High School Home Life


The dogs say it all



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Ambrosia and Autism

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My plans for the Victorian District excursion were postponed due to rain, along with the puppet show. There is always next week. It all worked out for the best. I was itching for some good vegetarian food and found this little place on the 6 th St called Amrosia Living Foods Cafe . It has wifi and I was in the mood to write and eat. Only one of those happened. The place was small and friendly. I asked to sit by an outlet and server told me a last minute presentation was about to happen and the outlet would be in use. I walked to the back of the restaurant and there I was talked into the getting the raw special: beet ravioli. Which was amazingly delicious and filling. Followed by raw baklava for desert. All the food served is gluten free. After finishing my meal I wasn't ready to leave so I asked what the presentation was about. Author Rhonda Spellman was discussing diet and nutrition in regards to treating autism . Also joining her was Dr. Lauren...
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Scars of Beauty

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I've been battling my breasts since age 11. They have always been my least favorite body part. At age 11 I made a deal with God. The deal was that I would have a nice booty in exchange for my breasts. I started blossoming at age 9 and wanted to prevent the growth of massive breasts like my mother had. I stood out enough by my height alone. To be 5'5 at age 10 was mortifying and awesome, but mostly mortifying. Over night my body grew so fast that when I woke up I had some how developed a woman's body. Due to the rapid growth, my body became scarred with stretch marks on my breasts, hips, inner thighs. This also caused a great deal of insecurity for me. Only pregnant women and fat people get stretch marks, and apparently growing mutant children. 5 th grade I had this little boyfriend named Steve Sansone (pretty sure he turned me off to all Italian/American men). Not sure how we got into a disagreement, but he took it to a level a cruelty. My mother was fighting cance...
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Ms. Jasinski

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Woke up with a taste of nostalgia. I haven't missed my mom in more than a while. It felt good to remember her. As I placed my amethyst earrings in their holes, I sighed a loud, "God I miss you Terri." To work at the Lizzadro Museum of Lapidary Art is to be in a constant state of nostalgia. Not only from the stone sculptures of Chinese Dynasties, but also my grandfathers essence that haunts the place with his original office and library still intact. When I sit up front greeting guests and doing research, I yearn to hear grandpa Joe's voice call me into his office and give me something to do. Never met the man. Only see him every week in a stone portrait custom made in Florence, Italy as a tribute to his passing. The afternoon lingered. A woman came in. As I watched her sign the guestbook I thought to myself: I know this woman. Yes, it has to be her.   She approached the front desk. "Hi, I use to have one of the grandaughters in my class a while ba...
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