Not to be outdone by all the redneck, hillbilly, & Texan jokes, You know you're in California when...

1. Your coworker has 8 body piercings and none are visible.

2. You make over $300,000 and still can't afford a house.

3. You take a bus and are shocked at two people carrying on a conversation in English.

4. Your child's 3rd grade teacher has purple hair, a nose ring, and is named Breeze.

5. You can't remember.... Is pot illegal?

6. You've been to a baby shower that has two mothers and a sperm donor.

7. You have a very strong opinion about where your coffee beans are grown, and you can taste the difference between Sumatran and Ethiopian.

8. You know which restaurant serves the freshest arugula.

9. You can't remember.... Is pot illegal?

10. A really great parking space can totally move you to tears.

11. A low speed police pursuit will interrupt ANY TV broadcast.

12. Gas costs $1.00 per gallon more than anywhere else in the US

13. A man gets on the bus in full leather regalia and crotchless chaps. You don't even notice.

14. Unlike back home, the guy at 8:30am at Starbucks wearing the baseball cap and sunglasses who looks like George Clooney really IS George Clooney.

15. Your car insurance costs as much as your house payment.

16. Your hairdresser is straight, your plumber is gay, the woman who delivers your mail is into S & M, and your Mary Kay rep is a guy in drag.

17. You can't remember.... Is pot illegal?

18. Its barely sprinkling rain and there's a report on every news station "STORM WATCH 2004."

19. You have to leave the big company meeting early because Billy Banks himself is teaching the 4:00pm Tae Bo class.

20. You pass an elementary school playground and the children are all busy with their cells or pagers.

21. It's barely sprinkling rain outside, so you leave for work an hour early to avoid all the weather-related accidents.

22. Hey!!!! Is Pot Illegal????

23. Both you AND your dog have therapists.

24. The Terminator is your new Governor.

and now, for the freaky dull annoying 2-minute version. *mutters darkly*
MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS
(Walks in; looks at audience. Smiles.)
MARY: Ah! I see the stage has been set, the props placed, and now high time to introduce the characters. May I present to you, (gives a small bow and fits the crown to her head) Mary Stuart: Queen of Scots.
My history? Let's see...I was born on December 8, 1542 in the palace of Linlithgow overlooking the loch. I was seperated from my mother much of the time, and raised in France. By the time I was able to go back home to Scots I had the cunning of the French and English courts and the common sense inherited by any born of Scottish blood. My country welcomed me with enthusiasm and happiness, overjoyed to have their queen on her throne. I ruled justly and fairly until I met a young man by the name of Henry Stewart, otherwise known as Lord Darnley. We fell in love, and, though my cousin, Queen Mary Elizabeth Tudor of England and the Prodestants rose violently against this proposal, I overcame them and we were married. Nought but months later, I found myself doubting the wisdom of such an arrangement as well. We had a son; James. While he was still an infant, I took him out of his father's care and only a few days later he was strangled to death and his house blown to bits by gunpowder. An extremely fast exit for THAT role!(grins)
One of my subjects by the name of Bothwell was accused of the murder, but somehow was proven innocent. Then he forced me off to be married to me and divorced his own wife to do it. Only a month later the same group who had risen against me in the marriage of Darnley met the two of us at Carnberry hill. Bothwell escaped free, but I surrendered under the condition that I was to be treated like a queen, and the exact opposite treatment was brought to me. This proved to be a blessing in disguise, as it brought sympathy to my cause. I was transported from prison to prison before my COUSIN the Queen of England(now commonly referred to as Bloody Mary) decided to kill a highly-placed queen in private. The axeman swung and MISSED, hitting the back of my head, and was still alive after that. He pulled it out and tried again, and his aim was true,missing only a sinew, and the axe was used as a saw to cut it off. I died a shameful death, with my lips still moving until an hour after my death, on Wednesday , February 8, 1587.
The curtains close, the makeup's off, and the playhouse has made quite a profit. Goodnight, everyone! (bows; leaves stage)

MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS
(Walks in; looks at audience. Smiles.)
MARY: Oh, hello there. You bein' executed as well? huh. wonder what ye did. mayhap ye did nothing, (puts on airs and doffs the rotten crown she has in her hand) and my dear Queen Mary Elizabeth Tudor of England(drops airs) decided to send you to your death because of rumors she heard in court.(takes off crown and examines it from a distance) Of course, who am I to talk? (cynical and bitter)I am just a simple dead queen, nothing more. (takes the crown in one hand and they both drop to her side; looks away) A hated and despised queen, at that. One of the only queens of her country, and for a while, her people loved her. May I present to you, (gives a small bow and fits the crown to her head) Mary Stuart: Queen of Scots.
My death they did mourn well, I see. an agent for my dear son James had sent a peice of hemp tied like a halter to England, with this little witty poem attached to it:
To Jezabel that English whore
Receive this Scottish chain
A presage of her great malheur
for murdering our Queen.
(chuckles softly) rather funny, in a dark kind of way. It makes one proud to see one's country's enthusiasm at one's coming and greif over one's going. They took such pride in me when I came to Scotland! I'd kept my childhood in France, however, although I AM Scot-bred. They welcomed me with such open arms and enthusiasm!
Sadly, that did not last very long. I fell in love with a certain man named Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley. Unlike the rest, he had no beard, and people wondered how I had become so smitten over him. My cousin, Queen Elizabeth of England, and the Prodestants all rose up against this marriage, seeing it as unwise, but I was victorious over them.(sighs regretfully) We were married, and I began to doubt this action as well. The country hated that I had seemingly forgotten about them during the life of my blind love for him, and they were right to be angry with me. huh.
We had a son; James. A few years after his birth, Darnely was strangled to death in his own house and the house itself blasted into a thousand peices by gunpowder.(smirks) ironic, in a twisted sort of way, don't you think?
Bothwell, a subject under my rule with a considerable bit of power, was blamed for the murder. He was proved innocent and forced me to marry him. (loudly and bitterly)My god! Was I really this weak? And he was married already! he divorced to marry me, and for what, power. It's always about power.
(sighs) Only a month later, the lords who had risen against me when I decided to marry Darnely met Bothwell and me at Carberry hill. Bothwell escaped, but I surrendered under the condition that I was to be treated as a queen. I was instead handled with violence and immured to Lochleven Castle. This horrible treatment actually was a blessing in disguise; it brought sympathy to my cause. I was judged unfairly for the death of Darnley, which, in fact, was Bothwell's doing. Accused of this, I was transported across Europe to several jailor's homes(cynical) by my dear cousin, Queen Mary Elizabeth. I've exchanged letters with her before this, and we were quite fond towards each other, but now for some reason she hates me.
The people saw it as unjust, but she IS the queen. Sometimes my captivity was more pleasant than other times. There were riots for my cause, and I am very proud to say that. Near one of my jailor's villages, I gave a nearly naked woman a dress. This sent me to be locked up in the castle with no communications to the outside. I told them, "You are afraid that my giving alms will gain the favor of the people. You should be afraid that keeping me from giving alms will rally them against you."(smiles) that surprised them a little. Every time the queen heard of my well-being, she sent angry news to the jailor and I was locked up once again.
(bitter)Elizabeth set a date for my execution, and I was, and still am, horrified to know that she intended to do it in secret. The death of a queen! I was to be killed by way of the axeman. They called me Mary Stuart, COMMONLY CALLED Queen of Scotland! (horrified and angry snort)
The axeman's aim was to be questioned, for sure. I repeated the words Jesus did before he died in front of the block three or four times: "Father, I give you my spirit." I set my neck down on the block, staring into the basket and the executioner's axe fell on the back of my head instead of my neck, right(points to the back of her head) here. Mind you, was still alive. He tried again and with the help of his assistant got the axe out and this time his aim was true, and there(points) lies my body. My head is in that basket, its eyes closed as mine were when it was dismembered from the rest of my body.
(looks another way and points) look there; the axeman comes now, his killing blade cleaned, and the apprentice moves to empty the basket. (nods towards audience) for you. (Turns and goes Down Stage, to Right; looks back and points) I'll see you soon.

Performed this in English. Didn't get no applause, either. Bloody....

Anyway, we were sposed to do a 2-minute report, and this one ran for about five....my teacher let me do a minute over, but it didn't fit it all at ALL.

Just as we see, half rosy and half white
Dawn and the morning star dispel the night
in beauty thus beyond compare impearled
the queen of scotland rises on the world

A strange poem that kinda wormed its way out. Very queer thing. I was having a good day, too.


Search my soul
Let me go
As I fall into oblivion

Sweet ignorance
Envelopes my mind
And shows me things beyond imagination

Do not die
For I am me
Let me be
In my sweet indecision


I like my death
It's sweetly familiar
Don't take him away
I love my death

Boom, cargo
Insanity reigns
Don't step behind the rainbow


For you'll fall
Too


Do not die
For I am me
Let me be
In my sweet indicision

I like my death
It's sweetly familiar
Don't take him away
Lest he come to you willingly

Killed.

Knocked out into the burning sun
By my own brother
my remains bearing a message
of cruelty and dishonor
as I was slain by the sun
killed by my brother
in cold blood as he whispered in my ear:
Death..
And my mother did nothing but watch.


(an ode to those Booby's(calm down, guys, they're birds) on the Galapagos Islands that are killed every day by their own fellow offspring--siblicide--while their parents watch on.)

RANCOR


Tick, tock
Rancor's clock
tick, tock, click, clock
nick, nock, pick-pock,
shick, shock, Sith's clock,
nick, niggen, get diggen,
tisk-missin, John Lennon,
mock, chock
click, clock
tick, tock.

You enter and see a malfunctioning toaster oven holding a butcher knife. No, I’m just kidding, no, don’t go away! Okay, so this is a summary of my life. In other words, an essay about me. Are you sure you want to read this? Alright, but be warned—I am about as weird as they come. My world revolves chiefly around art and God, so do not be surprised to see these two everywhere there is space. Alright, let us begin the torture!



My life? You want to know about MY life? It isn’t nearly as interesting as my character history—very well, we shall begin. Well, I was born in Raleigh, North Carolina. At age one, my family moved to California. My brother was three. I grew up in a duplex next to a family of Latinos. They moved out when I was about four, and then my father met another writer named Jane Landis. She lived in Ohio; when I was seven she moved into the empty duplex beside us. She got her first hamster when I was six or so, and the number of hamsters she has owned, whether at the moment they are dead or alive, is well over 50. I went to school at age six (naturally, it being the law) and moved from Nora Sterry to Richland to Braddock until I went to a middle school called Palms. At age 7, I began to write. Not as in write an essay, as I am doing now; but actually write a story. The story I began with morphed into a novel, which has not been finished after five years. The main character is derived from a picture I did of a Jabberwocky in….3rd grade? I don’t remember…anyway, it has gone through a lot of changes and I have finally thought up a title for it: The Fall of the Tirians. My life is not at all interesting so I will speak of my arts in all ways.. one of my nicknames is Rosinbreaker…I shall tell you that I was in beginning strings last year and I played the cello…and a friend slapped that name on me….for obvious reasons, I think….* I had classes for sculpting with clay when I was six or seven at Stoner park. It lasted for a very short period of time, the class being free and, naturally, not getting any profits from it. So now they have these messed-up classes that are at least forty dollars apiece! Not even worth it… When I went to the “Equine Affaire”, I saw this huge life-sized figure of a horse running next to a foal, nostrils wide but not exhausted, proportions perfect---and all sculpted straight from wire. I met the artist there. Her name was Esther Benedict, and she has a small ranch in Texas that she works on her art. She is a wonderful artist and one of my heroes—she knows and remembers me and I have sent her letters on how to do this and when to do that… Anyway, I had her card in a little suitcase on my key chains, but that got stolen, I guess. Oh. The key chains. I assume you want to know more about what is up with that miscellaneous jumble of assortments at my side every day. What can I say? Someone gave me some key chains and I went from there.

*You use rosin when you play the cello. It goes on the bowstring to make it sound less scratchy. I broke the cello rosin, thus, the name.

Alexandra Reneau\Period 5\8-04-03

And you wish to see me now, as well. Here I am: An occupant of a duplex, living with her brother and mother, with her father and soon-to-be step-mom living with 37 small rodents next-door to her. She is a gamer of all sorts, a fan of Role-Playing Games (R.P.G.S) and R.T.S.’s (real time strategy). She is an artist, of sorts—not a very good one, mind you, but getting there. She is still writing those books and still not done with any of them. She is a student of Palms Middle School, a horrible writer (in all matters), and a MAJOR doodler in ALL WAYS. Hardly a week goes by without someone asking, “Are you a girl or a boy?”, but I am shocked and surprised to report that no one—I repeat, NO ONE—has asked this whole week! Wow…that deserves pizza! If Star Wars were real (and all of the characters still alive) I would be the Sith* apprentice of Darth Vader. I have memorized the last part of the fifth Star Wars episode and will recite it upon questioning…yes, I know, it is absolutely pathetic, but that is me. I am very silly. Do not expect less. I am an adequate musician at the cello, but now that I am in Orchestra there are so many people who are far better than I. I have only practiced twice last summer, therefore I stink at playing the cello now. I have started playing the harp, which has been my lifelong dream, and now own a small Celtic Folk harp that is gathering dust in the corner. I have an overactive imagination, and one of my favorite hobbies is staring absently into space. Have I missed anything? Oh. And I love emoticons. ^.^ *_* T_T J L :’-( ;-) ;-( ;-9 :-p ~:-) >:-( >:-) :-D O.O >.< x.x @.@ A.A $.$ X) XD XP <(-.-<)KIRBY!

*Sith: Dark Side version of Jedi



Oh, so now you want to know about my FUTURE? Noisy little person, aren’t you? Nah, I kid. Okay, let’s take a look into the future….let me go get my crystal ball…

ZAP!!

Okay, we’re here! Looks like I will go to an art-based high school and take a course in graphics designing over the summer…oh, this is interesting, look, I’ll get into an art college and take…two years graphics design and two years art? I guess so. What else is here? Ah. As soon as I leave college I’ll take yet another course in graphics design, and, if I’m good enough, oh, look, I’ll either get a job at Blizzard* or Ghost Town Games**, if it’s up by then. Oh, and I’ll be living with friends until I move out into…an apartment for probably the rest of my life. I see that I will have an art shop online and anywhere it will sell, it seems. I can’t see the name of it, though. I guess that’s okay. Something foggy around the marriage idea though…I can’t see if I find the right guy or not. That’s okay, I’m just as happy single. That’s about all I can see right now.


POOF!!


*Blizzard is a really high-class graphics company for games. It is the best graphics designing company for games in the business. Take a look at Halflife 2 coming out—it’s fantastic, the people smile at you during the game, and it looks real enough to touch. It’s creepy. ^.^
**Ghost Town Games is the company name that my brother figured out. He says he’ll have it up and running someday….^.-

So this is it. You have read me. How depressing. I am something to be read, nothing more than a few pages of insignificant information. I am an ‘it’, a furnishing, a chair or a table you step on and disregard of any importance. Something man-made, perhaps molded to believe in a fake reality that my looks are all that matter, that immorality is the only way to live life. What is reality? Certainly not this insignificant lie we call daily life, the things we hold dear, surely those cannot have any meaning when it comes to eternity! Man is a wildflower in the rain; easily wiped out, quickly disregarded in the records of time. But, in the end, is that really as bad as it sounds? I for one would not want to be known as a girl who had disregarded the miracles so obviously placed before her and instead strived for a less-valued thing far out of sight. If that is me, I would prefer not to have a place in history at all! But then I forget that eternity not only reaches into the depths of the future, but into the past as well. It is a hard concept to grasp, an eternity behind us. And I wonder, what would I have done with that time? Perhaps use it to study life, to watch it evolve, then vanish as another takes its place as easily as the first came about! Yes, I believe in evolution—provided it is guided evolution. The theory by itself does not hold water but for a small contained area, as Charles Darwin’s studies are based on.
If I have shown you nothing in this, leave with the knowledge that life is short. Live it to the utmost.


Alexandra Reneau
Period 5
9/10/03


My essay...enjoy!^^

::falls over laughing, tears streaming::

oh..oh...I forgot how much I love this movie...oh...GO AND RENT THE COURT JESTER NOWWW!!!

::gasps for air::

whew.....oh, man, that's hilarious, man....oh...

::looks at the tv playing Star Trek suspiciously::

I dunno about this, Mom....looks pretty bad ta me....

Have all of my dedicated fans noticed that I DON'T LIKE STAR TREK...okay, so maybe this will change my mind but I DOUBT THAT HIGHLY...::looks at tv suspiciously again:: I don't like this...

okay, so SO FAR, this movie has NOT done anything to change my opinion on this...

Okay, so i don't know about you, but i think that america's lifeblood of its society is entertainment.at least, cali is...
If you took away everything dealing with entertainment, the society would not be crippled, it would be destroyed. I am totaly serious here. It's getting on my nerves. Every five minutes a new movie comes out. the bilboards are never empty, but if they are, they are being prepred to put up a movie ad.Yes, I know, movies and shows and tv are fun, but come on, now!and every five seconds there's a new sitcom on tv!WILL IT NEVER CEASE???
no, I'm serious, this is making me sick! I mean, if someone asks you at skool did you see that show last night and you say no, I don't watch tv you are automatically signed up as a candidate for class freak.
sigh....
Okay, I think I'm done lecturing...sorry....okay, gbye!

a-doo, doooo.....a-doo, doooo...

The Sun was shining on the sea
shining with all his might
he did his very best to make
the billows smooth and bright;
and this was odd because it was
the middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
because she thought the Sun
had got no business being there
after the day was done;
"Tis Rude of him,"she thought,
"to come and spoil the fun."

The walrus and the carpenter
were walking close at hand;
they wept like anything to see
such quantities of sand;
"If this was all swept away,"They said,
"it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
swept for half a year"---

arg, can't remember it all, dammit!!I wonder if anyone actually reads these. I doubt it. if they read the poems--even LESS likely---and *gasp* comment on them(they must be related to me)that would be so shocking I doubt my heart would take it and fail and I would be dead right there on the spot. but hey, I died in 3rd grade, so I don't think I have to worry too much bout that...ARGARGARGMATEY!i'm a pirate who can't type!!lol!!!

Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

I like that movie and I also like the book....

did you know that the toaster has to be plugged in to work?

And as the skies to shine with blue
the silver sheen will never fade
simplicity in words will give you a clue
to where the kinsman bade....
And yet still the dawn may fade
in the rising of the sun
and great is the blood that flows
under the moonlit glade....
But still believe that though the words
be simple in structure and meaning;
and thought the wyvern in the curds
that such are most misleading;
(feel free to join in verse)
Confusion, so the wyvern thought,
is such a normal state of mind
for those who never drink the drought
of wisdom men do find;
And so the wondered day may end
with wonder still implied;
with wyvern thought in river bend
in worldly, too, he sighed.
(that's okay so do I you can join anyway it makes it interesting)
The moon did rise upon a ship
sailing amidst a sea of stars
as distraught wyvern did water sip
under the gaze of planet Mars...

And though the wyvern did not think of it,
Salek was certainly not meant to be a poet.

Thank you, the wyvern said,
to one who's messages are not unread.

And as the wyvern stood in thought
to wonder who the wonderer willed;
that sends him such simple thoughts
and what these thoughts distilled--

And then a cry out of darkness came
a plea of explanation nigh
that seemingly would be question named
but not but named question why???


oh, how horrid are three periods in a row
if you think of female troubles, you'll know

How poetry doth wreck my soul
and plant within it springs of thyme
and tear my mind to a gaping hole
whilst trying to find a suitable rhyme

It is so boring so far here....no-one that I know and nothing to do....why am I here? because I am bored out of my mind. Simple enough......