The House With Colorful Lights All Year Long

"Geo! Heads up!"
"I got it!!!"

Hi, my name is Geoffrey Prius. I just entered high school and well, I'm living the life. This may sound weird, but well, I love art. I love music, painting, and photography. I don't know why it sounds weird, but I feel weird when people ask me what I like to do and I say 'I like to paint'. Sure, I'm still a guy and I love football and all, but the arts are my specialty.

Every once in a while, I'll walk around the neighborhood with my camera and canvas looking for a nice house to paint. Here in my neighborhood, every house has a story of its own--in my opinion. By just looking at the exterior, it becomes obvious about what type of people live in the house. Alot of the times, I'll sit across the street for hours just painting the house. I paint a little thumbnail and then move onto to a full-page portrait. When I'm done, I place the bigger one in the house's mailbox with a little note and go home with a picture and thumbnail of the house. I put these two things into a scrapbook I have of all the things I've painted. This scrapbook is my life. If my house was on fire, I would save my scrapbook first, then my canvas, and thirdly, my camera [all in order].

I do this because well, I honestly think that one's house really defines that person--just like how someone dresses defines them. I don't do this for attention or pride or anything--I do this cuz I feel like that a person should have the right to know that their house isn't just a block on the street. They should feel proud of having a nice house. In most countries, there's not enough room for nice houses like we have here. Some people don't even live in houses.

Some day, I hope to be an architect or an interior designer. Now, back to real life...

"Oof!"
"Dude, you alright man? That was some fall Geoffrey."
"Yeah, I'm fine Hunter. Thanks."
"The sun's setting...wanna come over? I so wanna own you in Halo 3."
"Psh...like you could beat my high score!"
"Wanna bet? The loser has to ring Ms. D's doorbell and tell her she's beautiful through the intercom!"
"Ms...D? Who's that?"
"Oh man I forgot that you moved to this neighborhood only a couple months ago. Well, her name's not really Ms. D., well...it's cuz she's a bit...ditzy."
"So I'm guessing that's why everyone calls her that."
"Yep. At block parties, she drinks...a lot. And then she starts muttering and screaming weird stuff about war or something. Also, she decorates her house every holiday. It's like all her life savings go to decorations and crap. We all think she's kinda weird."
"Really? Where's her house?"

--The next day--

My mom always said, "never judge a book by its cover." Hunter made Ms. D. sound like..like she was some sort of maniac. I asked my mom if she knew anything about Ms...D. My mom told me that neighbors had warned her about the woman and that it was best to stay away. She shook her head saying that she felt sorry for Ms. D. being understood so much. IT seemed like no one actually knew or tried to get to know Ms. D. at all.

I arrived at the house. 666 W Dearborn Street. Hm. This was probably the reason that everyone avoided her house altogether. Knowing that she was not like...most neighbors, I rang her doorbell to ask if I could paint her house. While I waited for an answer, I stepped back and looked up at the house. It was only mid-November and her house already looked like a Christmas tree. My guess was that Ms. D. was maybe a middle-aged woman. How else could she get all those decorations so high up?

The clicking of the door startled me. I was proven wrong. An old lady emerged from the house wearing a checkered blue apron. She smelled of sweet cinnamon.

"May I help you?"
"Oh, yes. My name is Geoffrey Prius. I was wondering if I could maybe paint a picture of your house?"
"For what purpose?"
"You see, painting houses around the neighborhood is my hobby, ma'am. I see that you take pride in your house. Your house is decorating all year long. How and why do you do it?"
"That is none of your business young man."

At that, she slammed the door in my face.

"Ugh, Mom I'm home."
"How'd it go, hon? You're home awfully early. Usually, you take an hour or two to paint a house."
"She slammed the door in my face. I don't what I said."
"Hmm. I know you really wanted to paint that house. She seems like a difficult woman--keep on trying."
"I'll try again tomorrow. What's for dinner, Mom?"
"You favorite--green bean casserole. Dinner will be ready soon."
"Alright Mom. I'll go shower then."

Everyday for a week, I went to 666 W Dearborn St. and rung the doorbell. It's almost as if Ms. D. knew it was me. She never opened the door for me or anything. The following Monday, I set up my canvas across the street and started painting. I didn't care anymore if I had her permission. Every time I messed up just a little bit, I would start over. I don't know why I do this, but I have this gut feeling that Ms. D. isn't a bad or weird person at all. She's just...misunderstood.
The creaking of the door interrupted my thoughts and Ms. D. stepped out. She closed the door gently and crossed the street to where I was sitting. She slowly made her way to the canvas and observed the picture.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked with curiosity.
"I-i-i...don't know. I really think your house is beautiful. And well to me, I feel like every house has a reason for the way it looks...like there's a story behind it all. I don't want to be nosy or anything, but...why do you decorate your house so extravagantly...even for holidays aren't really decorating-worthy, Ms..."
"Dansky. It's Ms. Dansky."
"I'm sorry, Ms...Dansky."
"Are you done painting, Geoffrey?
"Yes, ma'am. But if you want me to leave, I'll start packing up my things."
"Nonsense. Would you like to come inside for some tea?"
"Uhh...that is if you don't mind, Ms. Dansky."
"Sonny, if you really wanna know why I do all this..." Ms. Dansky pointed at her house, "then you better come inside."

I sat on the vintage-looking couch in a room where the walls were a deep burgundy. I noticed an oriental-looking glass cabinet in the corner of the room. In it were war badges. That's when I took notice of a purple star medal.

"Those were earned by my great granddaddy, grandpa, father, and....my husband."
"This is quite a collection Ms. Dansky. Who earned the purple star?

Ms. Dansky trembled as she set down the tray of cookies and teacups.

She took a deep breath and replied, "My husband, Gerald."
"So, where is he now?"
"He-he-he passed away after World War II due to all the injuries he had."
"I'm so sorry Ms. Dansky. I shouldn't have asked that."
"It's alright, dear. His death is the main reason why I decorate the house like this."

I sat down once again on the couch and reached for a cookie filled with apple jelly.

Ms. Dansky sighed, "Before Gerald left for the war, he told me, "Baby, if I don't return home, it's cuz God decided to put me out of misery and invite me into His house. I'll be looking down from the heavens to gaze upon this beautiful house that I built for you..""

Ms. Dansky pushed the plate of cookies toward me beckoning me to eat them. I reached for another one to find that this one was filled with apricot jelly. I chewed as I waited for her to continue.

"I decorate the house in hopes that Gerald can see his house from heaven. All the lights and garnish is sure to make the house stand out. I wanna let him know that I'm doing well by having the decorations as a sign. Until we can meet again, I'm going to keep adorning this house."

With that said, tears started flowing from Ms. Dansky's eyes. I quickly handed her a tissue. I finally understood what Hunter said about her muttering things about war. She lost her spouse to World War II.

"Ms. Dansky, I don't know what to say. I've heard so many rumors about you being a psycho, but you're not that at all."
"Geoffrey, now that I've told you everything, I feel like a burden has been lifted. I always lived in the shadow of my husband's death."

Over the next couple months, Ms. Dansky and I got close. I told Hunter all about that special day when I really saw the real Ms. D. Hunter was surprised just like I was. He told all the neighborhood kids and the all the rumors cleared up. Every once in a while, I would take a walk with Ms. Dansky and she would talk about practically anything. I painted countless pictures of her, of her house, and of events that happened in her life. For her birthday, I put all the pictures together and created a graphic time line of her life. When she unwrapped it, tears started flowing. I couldn't help but smile.

Exactly one month from her birthday, Ms. Dansky passed away at the age of 92. In her will, she left me the keys to her house. She wanted me to decorate her house whenever I could so she could look down from the heavens and show Gerald what a great kid I was. Meeting Ms. Dansky really changed my life. I vowed to keep her tradition by hanging colorful lights on her house all year long. As my mom always said, "Never judge a book by its cover."

trick of writing......

I hate it when I can't put my thoughts into words. Writing is tricky when it comes to papers too. You have to organize all your thoughts and stuff and that gets annoying sometimes. Or when you wanna try to sound professional but you can't think of big enough words for that. Writing is a lot of fun, but like most things, you can't learn it overnight. You gotta practice it and be open to improvements.

Who to thank...

This is a hard blog to write, but I'm gonna try. I'm not really thankful for anyone particularly, but I really like having Jenna and I guess Karol in class. Umm...I guess maybe working in groups with them is..fun? It's only fun working in groups when you're with smart people who know all the answers. I really have nothing to write cuz I never think about stuff like this. I mean maybe if they did a big favor for me or something, but I guess them just being there is pretty awesome. Happy Thanksgiving guys!

John Proctor...a smart idiot.

I always thought John Proctor to be the stupidest person ever since he was part of the cause of so many innocent people dying. He refused to admit that he had committed adultery until the very end when it was too late to save anyone and Abigail was the mastermind behind all of this. Proctor knew it, but as Abigail wanted, he remained silent about the affair. On the contrary, Proctor bettered himself at the end of the book. He refused to allow Danforth to present the document to the public because he knew that if he allowed it, then Rebecca Nurse and the others would have died all because of a lie. They would be looked down on upon because they refused to "confess". So in a way, Proctor was an idiot with wits.

Direction?

I don't think the class needs anything to be changed, but honestly, I don't like the whole idea of studying all this witchcraft stuff. It seems like back then people were pretty stupid and gullible. I would actually like to study maybe Asian literature. Okay, I know that sounds stereotypical since I AM in fact Asian, but I've never had the chance to study that stuff before. So yeah, that's the direction I would like the class to go.

House of...what?

House of seven gables...interesting name. You would think that it'd be called the Pyncheon House or -something, but I guess they thought the name was sooo cursed that they named it the House of Seven Gables. Maule's nephew was brilliant. The house itself is so unique. It's like there are seven mini houses morphed into one. I guess that's how castles are. Castles have so many rooms and corridors that it's easy for someone to just keep to themselves in a castle full of people. I bet the house would be a great place to play hide-and-seek!

Ms. Hepzibah probably gets extremely lonely. I wonder how long she has lived alone. Waking up everyday to loneliness would make me depressed. She's a strong person and I guess she's become even stronger with Phoebe around. Phoebe is like an angel of love showering her love dust on everyone. She totally upgrades the name 'Pyncheon'. This house holds alot of interesting people. Where each of them have completely different personalities. Overall, I think this house is cool.

Sinners in the Hands of God

Jonathan Edwards seemed to be a very powerful speaker--so powerful that he resigned over doctrinal differences in which many people were offended by his way of preaching and its content. I think that Edwards had a very startling way of making his points across in the sermon. He must have been very brave and shameless to be out of the ordinary especially since he was accusing everyone left and right. I also found it interesting how he used so many metaphors in which were very vivid. Since he resigned over doctrinal differences, I feel like those who outrageously disagreed with his preachings were very ignorant and close-minded people. They did not accept his originality maybe because they refused to admit their own sins.

Arrivals? There Goes the Neighborhood

I remember back in 6th grade, I transferred out of a private school to Ogden. I was pretty scared that I wouldn't know how to use my locker or buy school lunch since I was a newbie at all of this. I was entering into the pre-IB there for 6th-8th graders.

I actually didn't make it into the program just like that. I did pretty well on the test and was invited for the interview. I told the interviewer Ms. Dawn that I was a pretty independent person--which I am. I never ask my parents for help on homework or anything. I could tell that Ms. Dawn was pretty impressed since I was only a 6th grader and I didn't need any help from my parents. Then she questioned me if I was going to go straight to Lincoln Park for the actual IB program. I said I wasn't sure which threw everything off. My parents told me that I should've said that "I would consider". I received a letter saying that I didn't make it in which made me cry. I don't know why I cried. It wasn't a program that I was looking forward to, but I could tell that my mom was disappointed.

A couple weeks later, they sent another letter saying that I was accepted into the program. I was pretty excited going to a new school. On the first day, my mom dropped me off in front of the school. It was line up at the playground and I lined up with kids my age who were also new to the school. I felt kind of lonely since the girl in front of me had her mom with her.

We entered the school and it turned out to be a pretty nice school. The library was stocked with all kinds of books and one half was dedicated to nice computers. My first class was homeroom with Ms. Slavens. She was woman only about 5 foot 5 with pinkish tannish skin. Her face had unusual wrinkles. I don't know her age so maybe she was pretty old to be having wrinkles. She had black sunglasses on her forehead that matched her raven hair and dark eyes. She seemed kind of strict at first, but I could tell that she loved to laugh.

My next class was with Ms. Hueberman. If any of you guys know Ms. Heesemann, I'll tell you that they're similiar. However, Hueberman was way more sympathetic. She was a nice lady who explained the pre-algebra to us pretty well. However, I don't consider her as a good of a teacher as Mr. Calderon. He was my social studies teacher at Ogden who up to this point, is my favorite teacher. Mr. Calderon always wore dress shirts tucked in with the kind of pointy shoes that stars in Mexican movies would wear. He was a very cool teacher.

There was another person who worked in the school that was...interesting. HEr name was Miss Hogan. She was by far the scariest security guard EVER. Yes, even scarier than Mr. Engstrom. Throughout the year, she would turn up at school with her hair every color from blonde to purple. She was nice to the good kids and mean to the troublemakers, but I was always afraid that one day she would suddenly yell at me for doing something. Like many of my teachers, she was strict, but she would smile occasionally. Let's just say she was a very respected woman.

Before Ogden, I went to a Christian private school. Back then, I was VERY innocent until I went to Ogden. I didn't know who Rihanna or Fergie or even Chris Brown was. All of my friends at Ogden exposed me to this kind of stuff. At Ogden, I also LOVED how we had off-campus lunch. State street was filled with places like Subway and everything. My absolute favorite place would be Go Roma. It had the best pizza and 'potato sticks'.

Overall, I enjoyed my year at Ogden. However, when I came to Whitney for the academic center, I kind of lost touch with my friends and now some of them are here. I rarely talk to them or even say hi to them because now they're preppy and showoffs, but I'm happy here at Whitney Young.

Intro of myself

Hi guys!

I'm Hannah and I'm a freshman. Truthfully, American Lit is my favorite class. I have a sister and a brother who also came here--Grace and Riley. My hobbies are biking, reading, volleyball, cooking, and some other stuff. I also play instruments: the piano and the cello. I'm ABC (American Born Chinese) and I love it. I actually learn all my Chinese from watching Chinese soap operas with my mom.

One thing that my family loves to do is travel. I've never had a regular boring summer ever since 4th grade. I've gone all over Europe. I went to France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, and so on. We even got a cuckoo clock from Germany (it always got really annoying so it's just a wall decoration now). I've been to Alaska--which has probably been my most favorite trip ever. We flew to Anchorage, Alaska and pretty much explored. We went to Denali National Park and saw all sorts of animals. I saw a couple bears and elk, but what I really liked about the park was that the plants and vegetation there were so colorful. There were red ferns and purple trees and such. One time my dad took us to a "Christmas in July" dinner sort of thing. We went to kind of a log cabin and ate a Christmas dinner with other people we had never met before (most of them were old people). The employees put on a show and I think I remember it was kind of weird.

I also went to the Bahamas, Jamaica, and the Grand Cayman Islands. On that trip, I kissed a string ray and a dolphin. Pretty cool, eh? (It's not that big of a deal.) When we went to Jamaica, we climbed a waterfall. It was the scariest thing ever! Everyone held hands and basically walked up the waterfall, but it was really hard going against the water. The Jamaicans there were like professionals. I saw some of them hop up the waterfall. I've also been around China. Hong Kong is my absolute favorite since my parents were born there, but I also loved going Guilum. There, we went to a cave in the mountainside with pretty cool stalagmites and stalactites. One group of stalactites resembled a lion and some stalagmites resembled the city of Shanghai. We also took a boat trip down the Yangtze River where the tour guide showed us some cracks on the side of the canyons. People were actually buried inside the rocks (a long, long time ago, it was normal for people to be buried there)!

I hope someday that I can go to Japan, South Korea, Australia, and maybe even Iceland. I'm a person who likes to experience things by actually going to the places rather than just looking at pictures which is why I love nature and science. My dream job is to work for National Geographic as a writer or a scientist. That's a little bit about me..hope you enjoyed my post!