May 18

An Open Letter To Shrek

Dear Shrek,

Thank you so much for making me giggle as a five year old, and making me appreciate PG movies as a teen, and probably making me still indulge in your first movie as an adult. You, as well as Donkey, Fiona, The Muffin Man, and Lord Farquad have played a vital role in my childhood. However, I have some questions…

Why on Earth would you marry Fiona!?
Why did you have to interrupt Fiona’s wedding and proclaim your everlasting love to her? Sure she was meant to be with you, but she would’ve been fine with Lord Farquad! She would have lived her desired princess life with all three feet of him. She would have kept her royal reputation. But most importantly, she would have not disrupted your lonely ogre lifestyle! Besides you only knew her for a good 48 hours before you popped the question. In that five minute frame that you decided to propose did it ever come across your mind that you would have to leave behind mud baths, terrorizing humans, and your swamp?

Really, triplets?

Maybe, just maybe you could’ve made a marriage with Fiona work…but then you had TRIPLETS! Yes I’ll admit Farkle, Fergus and Felicia are the cutest ogre babies I’ve ever seen, but their babies. Being a father takes away the whole “I’m an ogre” vibe you had been sending out to the world. Not to mention it tied you down to Fiona’s royal roots. You should’ve known that her parents would want to be a part of their grandbabies upbringing. They were never on board for you to raise them in a swamp.
If I had it my way, you and Fiona would’ve rode of into the sunset and that would be the end of the franchise.

I guess what I’m trying to say is…

As much as I love your dynamic duo with Donkey, your couple goals relationship with Fiona, and your hate towards Lord Farquad, I miss the old Shrek. The Shrek that hated everyone, the Shrek that scared everyone, the Shrek that didn’t involve everyone. The five films with your face on them just aren’t the same as the first. Where has the onion eating, waffle hating, big, smelly ogre gone?


Pictures from,, and


April 20

Generation Z

The people born in the years 1995-2012 are known as Generation Z. This group of individuals has been governed by three presidents, scammed by six iPhones, and influenced by the 17 most ground breaking years in history.

From O.J. Simpson found innocent on October, 1995; to the 98th rose super bowl on January 2, 2012, this generation has lived through several events.

August 23, 1996–Osama bin Ladin issues message entitled “A declaration of war against the Americans occupying the land of the two holy places.”

July 15, 1997– Versace was murdered.

September 15, 1998– is registered as a domain name.

August 1999–Earthquake in turkey kills 13,000.

August 24, 2000– 82nd PGA Championship: Tiger Woods becomes the first golfer since Ben Hogan in 1953 to win 3 majors in a calendar year. He ties the to-par record for the PGA (-18) with Bob May, and wins in a playoff

September 11, 2001– Twin Towers collapse, and The Pentagon is breached.

2002– Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears break up.

February 15, 2003– An estimated 6-11 million people around the world take to the streets to protest against war with Iraq.

February 4, 2004– Facebook launches.

August, 2005– Hurricane Katrina devastates millions.

April 10, 2006– Immigration protests.

January 9, 2007– Steve Jobs announces the first iPhone.

November 4, 2008– Barack Obama is the first African American president elected.

April 1, 2009–Sweden becomes the fifth European country to legalize same-sex marriage. The other countries with the same rights are The Netherlands, Norway, Belgium and Spain.

2010– Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber are rumored to be together.

May 2, 2011– Ben Laden passes away.

These are all things that happened with in this amazing generation. Although our generation is no longer growing, we are still thriving. Long live Generation Z!

April 5

My Essay For English

Authors Note*

For the past three weeks we have been working on writing and editing a personal essay for english. The topic was “Write about why it’s important to never give up.” So naturally I wrote about something that inspires me. I tried to work on smooth transitions, details, and an outstanding conclusion that ties back to the begging. Hope you enjoy!


Life is like a sprint filled with hurdles— if you don’t keep forcing your leg up you’ll never make it to the finish line. You’ll win medals if you never give up.
From women fighting for the right to vote to little boys tackling their way through running backs, we’ve all had to jump a few hurdles life has thrown our way. An example of someone who has leaped over is Robert L. Hargett.
Since Rob was in the 9th grade, he knew he wanted to become a lawyer. By the time senior year rolled around, he had already mailed his application and financial aid request halfway across Texas. Three months later, he was telling everyone he knew that he was going to the University of Texas. Thus began the start of his race.
Next thing he knew, he was trading out Plano green for burnt orange and waving away the simple life he had known previously. With college came a financial tornadoe—tuition, utilities, even a bed to sleep in—it sucked, sucked every ounce of hope right from the ground beneath him. Receiving no financial support from his parents or the school, he sought out three jobs, one of them being a janitor, and became a R.A. for the football team. He made it past all of these hurdles by a hair and graduated from U.T. undergrad and U.T. law school.
Today, he’s a Plaintiff’s attorney with his own firm, manages three kids, and is happily married. If he would’ve given up he wouldn’t be an attorney; he wouldn’t have met his wife; and he wouldn’t be my father. As my father discovered, life is a sprint filled with hurdles. Hurdles that must be cleared, a race that must be won, and a life that must be pursued.


February 16

Shopping or Suicide?

If you ever want to go to the most chaotic place in the universe you should consider the grocery store on a Sunday afternoon. It’s practically suicide to even attempt getting a box of tissues. Between ear piercing screams from nearby toddlers, outrageously l-o-n-g-l-i-n-e-s, and cramped parking lots; you’re considered lucky if you make it out sane.

HEB is a madhouse on the weekends. Unfortunately what other time is there to go and get more Topo Chico or Pop•tarts. Between eight hours of school, two hours of homework, and my parents work schedule I have no time to take a trip to the grocery store. Although, I’m not the only one who has no time. Every weekend the same type of people run up and down the aisles. Dodging their bodies is practically a sport. It uses eye, foot coordination as well as great maneuvering motions. I’m surprised it’s not in the olympics.

Have you ever been in the chip aisle -A.K.A. the most crowded aisles in the history of aisles- looking for the perfect bag of Tostitos Party Scoops? The bag is at the end of the aisle which might as well be at the other end of the Great Wall of China. All you have to do is to get from point A to point B. You’re 75% of they way there when-OHHH. Someone runs into you. You scramble to your feet avoiding to make direct eye contact. You’re about to make a recovery when once again your bodies meet. By now it’s just a battle of how many times both of you can muster up a “sorry.” Eventually somebody breaks the pattern and you regain focus. You get that bag of Tostitos and get the heck out of there. Praying you wont see the person you just plowed to the grocery store floor again.

Once safe inside your car you take a sigh of relief and a bow of pride for making it out alive. You arrive home and unpack those tissues, Pop•tarts, and Tostitos. Ripping into your bag chips you think to yourself; “shoot I forgot the Topo Chico!”

And that’s why grocery shopping is a suicide mission.

February 2

The Room to Which He Was Bound

It is here in this neglected cave that a man was chained; chained to the darkness, the rats, chained up by society. He was sent to rot with nothing but his mask and the memory of the words that drove him down here.

Now I am here. The presence of loneliness is overpowering- as if someone was pushing down on me with every newton of force they possessed -making it painful to move and breathe. Every step I take is matched with more darkness. The darkness is growing just as the Phantom’s taste for revenge did.

By the time I reach the organ I’m consumed by the shadows. As my eyes adjust to the ominous atmosphere I’m able to make out a candle. It is burned down to the very end of its existence. The wax is everywhere, making this the only thing in the room not blanketed by dust. The organ looks like it was once adored however now it is just another part of this room. By the organ I see the outline of a throne; covered by red and black velvet and accented with gold. However, this is not the only detail about the throne that is visible. Draped over the chair is a cream, silk dress. The dress is aged but still has a brand new feel about it; almost as if a mannequin was the only one who wore it.

As I maneuver around this dreadful home I feel a sharp, punctuating shard dig its way into my ankle. I assume it’s glass, due to the fact that there are pieces of reflective material scattered all over the floor. The feeling of blood trickles down my foot and in between my toes, but I keep going. Feeling around for more clues and more aspects of this creatures life. However nothing grazes my hand or my feet. The only thing around is a gap between me and the rest of the world.

This must have been how the Angel lived.

December 14

Our Christmas

It’s no secret that Christmas is my favorite holiday. Between the twinkling lights that engulf whole towns and the holiday carols about merry times; I adore Christmas. The reason that I could give Christmas a hug that lasts an eternity is not the reason you may think. Although the presents and break from school are a pleasant plus, that’s not what I look forward to 364 days out of the year.

What I look forward to is OUR Christmas. My family’s Christmas is definitely unconventional. Our traditions are anything but ordinary. Some would call it special…

The festivities start on Christmas Eve. First you have to wait A-L-L-D-A-Y for the excitement. Around six o’clock my grandparents, parents, brother and sister (and of course me) gather around in the dining room and sit down for dinner. The dinner isn’t filled with any particular foods just nothing resembling the food we will consume on the following night. After our meal, we all pile into a car and head to church. Church usually lasts about a hour and a half. We typically sing hymns and light candles and all that good holiday stuff. After church is one of my favorite parts…Presents!

Ever since I was little I have loved unwrapping presents. So much so that I used to ask if I could unwrap people’s presents for them! As well as receiving I find joy in watching what other people get. I think I like this because it’s exciting to see people’s reactions to different presents. After presents my grandparents head home, and everyone else falls into a sleep.

I usually wake up around noon. ITS CHRISTMAS! Is the only thought that runs through my head. I would like to say that I get up early and help my parents with getting things ready, however I would be lying. What really happens is I sleep in while my parents are the drudges.

Around three o’clock our very close friends, grandparents, and sometimes others join together. We meet at someone’s house and have Christmas linner  (lunch-dinner). It’s pretty hard to remember what we do exactly due to the fact that we’re all experiencing a food coma right after. Following dinner we play games, tell stories, and just all around have a good time.

At about twelve o’clock we hunt for a movie playing in theaters. It usually consists of the theme of Christmas (Anchor Man Two, Unbroken, etc…)A.K.A. very Christmas like.

Unfortunately at around two o’clock in the morning it all comes to an end. Everyone goes home content of the past few days. We fall into a deep sleep filled with our Christmas memories, and tuck them under the tree until next year…


December 7


Authors Note:
I chose to write about this topic because I want people to realize that there is always more to someone or something than meets the eye. I used an object that everyone on planet Earth is familiar with because it shows the most basic things have “other sides.” Not only is the moon a familiar subject, it’s also a very mysterious natural phenomenon. I was able to easily spin off the way the moon is portrayed by using its mysterious persona in this piece.

When I was in fifth grade I wrote a poem about “Luna” and remembered the piece as I was brainstorming for this one. I don’t have the poem nor do I remember the exact wording. All I remember is how much I liked it at the time. I think you’ll enjoy this new inspired piece! Here’s Luna…


Up in the night sky
When most are asleep
There is a woman.

A woman freckled with craters,
A woman whose wrinkles run 50 million years deep,
A woman with eight phases.

We see one side of her
The side stomped on by 12 pairs of feet,
The side marked by a singular flag.

If only
We would’ve
Walked a little more

We could have discovered

Her other side

My other side

Luna’s other side.