Less Welfare Applicants? Coincedental?

One of the large controversies taking place within our country is the amount of "unfair" and "unreasonable" policies of the welfare programs being offered to low income families. Some may argue that the majority of Americans are scapegoating the minorities who live on the incoming welfare checks. Ms. Kimberly Davis of Operation Breakthrough (New York Times) believes that "all this does is perpetuate the stereotype that low-income people are lazy, shiftless drug addicts," which she is mostly correct in believing. But, unfortunately, the results of Florida Legislators passing the mandatory drug testing bills stand against her.
In Florida, people receiving cash assistance through welfare have had to pay for their own drug tests since July. This has resulted in the lowest welfare applications since the start of the recession. Could this be because of the guilty people who do use drugs and know that they will fail the mandatory testing? Quite possibly. The fact of the matter is that many American tax payers feel cheated out of their own money when it goes to welfare recipients who don't even use the money for the correct purposes (i.e drugs and alcohol). A parent who uses drugs cannot properly provide for their children when the welfare money goes towards unnecessary things. Although the possibility of this new policy causes a lot of anger towards local legislation one must face the facts; urination samples are needed to participate in most jobs nowadays so this should be expected by welfare applicants, should it not?
All in all, I particularly agree with legislation's idea of testing for illegal drug use in welfare applicants. Not only will this lower the amount of taxes paid by your average American but it will also ensure correct use of the Welfare fees.

Millionaire Drop-Outs

It can be assumed that the United States of America is based off of the Big Business Boom. There are several creators of major social networking websites and companies that didn't even receive a high school diploma. These great success stories all trace back to these people that we call entrepraneurs. When it comes to the topic of a person creating their own business, supporters of this person could get a bit touchy. This could be because of the amount of loans given to that person, the lack of ambition it may demonstrate in the entrepreneur's life, and even the slight fact that this young man or woman is running the risk of failure, which no one wants to see.
With an economy in shambles, one can wonder how these high school and college dropouts (such as Mark Zuckerberg, Dustin Moskovitz, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Paul Allen, and even more) have succeeded and are also making millions of dollars each year. Does it make sense that these business CEOs are doing so well when your average Joe goes through high school, getting a 4.0 GPA, gets into an amazing college, earns a $150,000 degree and can't even find a job that pays for a good living, let alone paying back loans? The very word loans is associated with a far uglier plural noun: debts. Debts are most responsible for the lack of entrepraneurs with the same high success rate as the aforementioned computer geniuses. No one wants to take the chance of having a business that costs more to upkeep than the gain in profits.
As mentioned before, the people we least expect to have dropped out from either high school or college. And is it for the better or the worse? As Mark Ellsburg from the New York Times puts it, "America has a shortage of job creators. And the people who create jobs aren’t traditional professionals, but start-up entrepreneurs." So, in a sense, he is right. Why shape and mold these teenagers into someone who is jobless and living off of spaghettios a few weeks after graduation? Give these kids the option to be their own person. Don't teach them that they absolutely have to work for someone else. The United States and the world in general have this twisted view that if you don't graduate from high school and/or college, you're a lazy fart. Why is this? It is just the way we are brainwashed from the moment we step onto that bus in kindergarten. Don't fail. You'll never get into a good college.
In the Merriam Webster dictionary, failure is described as a lack of success. But in this twisted world, a lack of success could mean anything. Your parents may say that failure is bad grades on your report card. Others may say that not getting paycheck with the same amount on it every week is failure as well. Entrepreneurs get no fixed income. None. So what? Work a little harder, because entrepreneurs don't let everything get handed to them on a silver platter. Business CEOs have had to strive to make a difference, not just take things as they come. If you ask me, I'd rather be a hardworking citizen with awesome job security in my own business than to be another person complaining about their boss on a lousy day at work.

Come with me, and you'll see, a world of Pure Imagination...

Back when I was ten years old, I played with dolls, I read picture books sometimes, and cell phones for kids were almost unheard of. We had imaginations, we've known a world where technology isn't everything and where kids can be kids. Today, however, you can talk to any six, seven, or eight year old and they'll talk about how their mommy just bought them an iPhone or iPod and how they might be getting a laptop soon. Where are the baby dolls? The coloring books? When I was their age I played checkers. I may sound like an old geezer right about now, but I don't really care. Kids need to use their imagination. It's what makes them kids, not electronic applications that they can download to their iPods, iPhones, or iPads.
So parents, don't fall for the,"But mom, everyone has one!" Let your kids embrace their imaginative qualities. Let them play make believe, or go outside and play soccer, or basketball. Watch your kids make play-forts with branches. There's so many things that kids can do outside without needing iPhones and iPads, and other unnecessary technologies, that you won't have to worry about their wanting a Facebook.

Ground Me For Being Myself

Just recently, I was invited to join the National Honor Society. It was an amazing honor to receive that letter saying that I was eligible to join; my parents and the rest of my family thought so too. I carefully considered my options. I could set up my portfolio and letter of recommendation and become part of the NHS; but I figured in a few factors to my decision. A student knows the way they study; especially if that student acquires all As and Bs all the time. Now, in my particular case, I decided not to join NHS. This is because not only will I get egotistical about my work, I will also get lazy and comfortable and perhaps even more stressed once grade closing comes around. My mother almost disowned me, she was so furious.
Parents these days expect a lot from their children. Just because your son or daughter is a straight A student doesn't mean they can keep that grade up with every new stress inducer. Mothers and Fathers expect their children to get straight As all the time, to never get lower than a B, to get into a really good college on scholarship. We're JUST. Kids. Not functioning adults, as much as we would want to believe. So, parents, lay off and give us a chance to make mature decisions by ourselves. It's how we live and learn.

Paper Bag Princess in the Coach Purse

Hi-Ho, my dear friends! I'm Paper Bag. I was given to my owner this past week when no one else would claim me. I was the last loveable trinket to be swapped. I felt abandoned. BUT! I have found peace, for I have been placed in a Coach purse where my owner takes me everywhere. I said everywhere! For example, today we visited a Corn Mega Maze in Sterling, Massachusetts. Although it took us two hours to get out, (us being my owner and her friends), we had loads of fun! I was soon joined with different candies and wrappers that tended to cry out when another wrapper appeared. I'm not particularly sure why. They're just candy. But all in all, today was fun; we even went to McDonalds after. I miss some of my friends named Cash, but at least they're somewhere where they will make even more friends.

Little Bag O' Fun.

Today I received a quite peculiar trinket. It is brown, wrinkly, and perhaps the carrier of an old lunch. I guess we will find out when it starts to smell putrid. But until then, I must blog about it on this silly laptop and then take it back after a week or two has gone by. I guess I shall start by describing it.
It is a brown paper bag with the words, "BAG OF FUN" scribbled on the front side. There is a smiley face, an obvious attempt at trying to give this inanimate object a personality, a feeling of acceptance. But it is a paper bag; not something to get emotionally attached to. Sooner or later I guess I will have to listen to it's feelings and daily struggles; but not until tomorrow.

Absent on Tuesday

Therefore, I had no blog to write because we were supposed to get trinkets.

I Read in my Spare Time, So I Must Have No Life.

I like to read and write all the time instead of hanging out with friends, I'm quiet when first meeting people, I get confused when someone tries talking to me while I'm studying. I like school. I'm bisexual.
If I told anyone of you the information above, what would you get from it? You would probably think that:
I have no social life, I'm a loser, I'm an idiot for liking school, and I must be a skank. But anyone that takes the time to know me would tell you that you, my dear reader, are wrong. Stereotypes are something that America, in general, needs to just stop creating. As a people, we are judgmental and we don't give others a chance to prove themselves to us.
To us, people that look like they may come from the Middle East have to be terrorists. All African Americans are from the hood. All Mexicans must be illegal immigrants. That's just the way things are... right? Labeling and judging people before you get to know them is just something that needs to stop. It makes me so angry, not only because I have been labeled before, but because it isn't right. Anyone with eyes or a brain can see that. So, next time, if you see an African American or Hispanic guy walking down the street with baggie jeans and a backwards hat, don't just assume he's a gangster that dropped out of high school. He could be in college, have kids, and be attending Harvard or Yale.

Don't. Judge.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T, Find Out What It Means to Me

Bullying is something that a vast majority of us have experienced. You have either been the victim, the bystander, or even the bully itself. If you happen to find yourself on the MSN Home Page, take a look at the news slideshow. You will see something absolutely shocking. About two months ago, a young homosexual teenager took his own life because he was bullied. In most cases such  as this, the family members are grieving and in need of love and nurturing at this time. But no, as of now, the bullying victim's family is in torment. The victim's sister is being taunted with jeers of, "Your brother is better off dead!" or, "He deserved to die."
What can make teenagers this cruel? Is it bad enough that they will have to live with the guilt that they caused a young man to take his own life? That they made him hate himself and want to leave this world? To me, this news story is just ridiculous. Kids these days have no respect for things as serious as suicide and bullying. In my opinion, if someone commits suicide after being completely victimized from bullies, the suicide should be counted in the Court of Law as a first degree murder case.
Respect is something that should be taken seriously. Whether the person is different from you or not.

Goodbye, Little Cappy.

It is my great regret to inform you that our reporter, Snappy Cap of the Snapple Observer made his final report Thursday morning and drowned later that day. We mourn this loss and wish for a new companion very soon. Rest in Peace, little Cappy. You were a great friend and find to all here at the Observer. We loved to hear your stories about that senile old cat and the life of your owner, Kelsey. We are sure she didn't mean to leave you.
Rest easy, buddy.

Today, It Rained.

It wasn't the fun down pouring rain with lightning that lights up the sky with huge forks of blue. And no, it wasn't the misting kind either. No, no, it seemed as if the sky was spitting; the clouds were gray, filling with condensation, and I was dropped outside in the driveway while Kelsey ran off to the bus stop. The air is sticky and humid. I nearly escaped death on multiple occasions, but that doesn't matter, because Kelsey would find me on the way back home, right? ...Right? 

...anyone?

Crikey!

Today I come to you from the vast jungle also known as Kelsey's room. Today she left me home while she went to Student Council and I, Snappy Cap, reporting for the Snapple Observer, promise you that this is by far the craziest sight I've seen yet. Crikey! It's the prowling senile cat, in his natural habitat. He stares at me knowingly, his yellow orb-looking eyes boring through my very aluminum being. He's a natural hunter; don't underestimate him. He knows a play-toy from a meal. And sometimes doesn't care which you are. This is Snappy Cap, Snapple Observer, signing off.

Stalkers.

One thing that has always got me questioning is why must Snapple Caps always have the fun facts underneath the lid? Do the mysterious creators know that we will look under the cap? Do they know that we will be playing with the push tab for ages and finally look underneath? Or better yet, do they understand that Mr. Freitas will be giving the craziest blog assignments in the world? And the biggest question of all? How would the Snapple Cap manufacturers know Mr. Freitas' assignments? Are there spies? Are they in our class?
Who knows, is all I have to say.

Snapple Observer

Snappy the Cap here, reporting for the Snapple Observer. I've been pip-pip-popping around the Smith House lately, and it's been a zoo! Not only are there toddlers, moody teenagers, and angry parents, but a huge, prowling, senile cat! The cat doesn't pay too much attention to me, being a quote, unquote, "Inanimate Object," but, you never want to see this cat in action whilst he tries finding that field mouse in the backyard. It's gross, the way he plays with his food, almost as if someone is popping our safety tab to the point it's unpoppable. Well, I will keep in touch with you guys back in the vending machine, but for now, this is Snappy the Cap, Snapple Observer, signing off.

Ignorance is Bliss.

Ignorance. It comes in all shapes, sizes, and dimensions. It could be in a hypothetical situation, or something you see every day. For instance, I am not the most popular girl on the planet. I can admit that. But do you want to know why I am not viewed as someone with a higher social status? You guessed it: ignorance. I'd like to believe that people judge other people without even giving that person a chance. Half the people that talk bad about me behind my back have never even spoken to me before in my life; how could they know whether I'm weird or not? And what's the problem with being "weird" anyways? Nothing! Especially since I would much rather be an individual than one of those psychotic clones I see in the hallways everyday at school.
There's no reason to be mean to another person because of their size, looks, or nervous quirks. Heck, I'd rather being short and curvy than tall and freakishly thin. But hey, maybe that's just me. People are allowed to be individuals, who cares if they agree with what you do or don't say. They don't have to listen to the voice of the In Crowd. They don't have to listen to anyone... That is, except for their Mom.

Pregnant? Go Try Out for 16 and Pregnant!

About two years ago, right before Halloween, my sister told us that she was, indeed, pregnant. Seeing as she was only sixteen at the time, it was a huge shock to us here at home. My parents weren't excited for her, they were more so disappointed; I was mainly in shock. Unfortunately, some teens in this messed up era seem to think that having babies at sixteen years of age or even younger is perfectly acceptable and the fad of the decade. For example, some girls get pregnant and don't even care; even though this wasn't the case for my sister, the other naive girls of 2011 see it as their chance towards fame and fortune. Can you say gross?
As young adults, we still need to grow up ourselves before we can even think of raising a child ourselves. Face it, anyone that thinks they're ready for a baby and is under twenty years of age needs a reality check. They honestly don't know what they're in for.
I've watched my sister struggle for a year and a half being a teenage mother, and at eighteen years old, I couldn't be more proud of her. She graduated, even if it was a struggle, and she stepped up to the plate. The girls that exploit their personal lives on MTV all the time, however, make unwise choices and make their life public. Any choice they make is or will be at the public's discretion. So to all young sexually active teenagers, I would like to say one thing to you all. Think before you act. No child should have another child as a parent, it can be avoided.

Snappy Cappy Day 3

What makes a Snapple Cap unique from everything else? Is it the metallic look of it? The blue script written everywhere on it? No, I think that it's more than that. It gives one of the first impressions before you open up that delicious Snapple drink and it makes you feel at home. Do you ever open a Snapple and look at the inside of the cap to see the Fact that lays there? Just so you can think about something else than the delicious taste of the Snapple while you drink? I do. But there is always something unseen about our little Snapple Cap friends... They have feelings, too. They have a purpose; just like you and me. And whether that purpose is to keep the bottle of juice from spilling all over or to be a great friend, that Snapple Cap is always there for you, like a best friend.

Snappy Cappy Day 2

Dear Diary,
Today my owner seemed stressed, she almost left me at home. She stood out in the pouring rain for twenty minutes waiting for a roaring Twinkie-Twink looking motor vehicle. It was freezing even inside of her cozy back pocket. But again, I could say nothing. Kelsey would never understand me, even if I could speak her language. I can only understand her. It's almost as if I'm her guardian angel. I'm the only one that can sort of guide her in the right direction. Maybe I'm something more than just a cap with a Safety Button That Pops Up When the Original Seal is broken. Oh, Bottle Seal I miss you so much. We were meant to be, but then you were thrown away after doing your job.
We will forever be one, even as I watch inconspicuously from the back pocket of Kelsey's jeans.

Snappy Cappy

Dear Diary,
Today I moved in with my new owner. Her name is Kelsey and she is really quite nice, but her house is very crazy at times. It's loud, and as a Snapple Cap living in this world, she feels like I'm not safe being left out, especially because there is a little person running around, making everybody stand on edge. One wrong move and I could end up in the trash; my life would be over and so would Kelsey's grade. It would be a lose-lose situation for the both of us. Anyways, I don't genuinely care for her household. Everyone yells at each other over the littlest of things and it all somehow gets dumped on my new owner. I seriously feel sorry for her. But it's okay because she keeps me safe and that's all I could ever ask for. I wish that there was a way for her to understand me, she seems so lonely and quiet.
Sincerely, Snappy Cap the Snapple Cap.

THE WORLD IS ENDING

Some might say us New Englanders have a twisted sense of disaster. We never quite get earthquakes or tornadoes; heck, we rarely get disasters period. The thing is, when we actually do have these rare occurrences, it seems as if the world is ending. However, if you compare the quote, unquote "natural disasters" to those of Tornado Alley or even California, we New Englanders have it easy.
For instance, there was a small earthquake in Virginia that perhaps only knocked over a few drinks on a kitchen table. However, most East Coast citizens reacted as if the world was ending and that they were lucky to survive. What else can I say besides that the majority of us over exaggerate to the max? Seriously? We don't realize how lucky we have it. Hurricane Irene was only a small fraction of the worst to come.
Massachusetts and Rhode Island citizens alike were complaining about no power and downed trees interfering with their every day lives. What about the victims of Hurricane Katrina back in 2005? The tsunami that wiped out Indonesia? Or, perhaps, the more recent earthquake in Haiti? Those people lost all of their possessions and livelihood and we have the nerve to complain about a simple lack of television usage. Most people on the east coast don't understand how easy they have it, they really don't. Sometimes, I really wish I didn't live among a bunch of hyperbolic drama queens. The teenagers are the worst. Even if I am a teenager I am ashamed to be classified as an attitude-filled girl who takes everything for granted. Sometimes I just wish people in general would just grow up.

I'd Like to Have One Large Order of Skinny, Please.

One night, while school shopping for new clothes, I pulled on a pair of size 16 skinny jeans and nearly fainted. It was a tight fit; I had gained weight and a lot of it. I looked at myself in the mirror and almost refused to go outside and show my mother how they looked on me. Unfortunately, she still believed I was a size 16 in pants. I opened the door and tried to ignore the other shoppers, especially the girl directly across from me who looked disgusted. My mom looked at the pants that were causing my stomach and behind to stick out terribly and just said, "Oh no, I'll go get a size up for you."
While my mother flip-flopped away from the changing rooms, I pried the too-tight pants off of my body and folded them up again. Then, while I waited patiently for my mother to bring me more pants I heard the girl across from me talk to her mother from inside her changing room say, "Fat girls shouldn't wear skinny jeans. I mean, unless they lose weight. They look terrible, like seriously? Eat less."
Not only did this ignorant statement hurt me, it angered me enough to remember it now, three weeks later. Society today needs to realize that being skinny or overweight is never a choice. Sometimes it is because of heredity, and other times it could just be from legitimate health issues. People classified under "Obesity" on the  Body Mass Index might not have a choice on how they are. For instance, when I was born, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, meaning that all of my growth hormones were out of whack. This could of been because I was born without a thyroid or it was just not working. Because of this and the fact I grew up with an Italian background, I gain weight five times faster than people who have a working thyroid.
Society has been showing naivety towards the subject of obesity for years, decades even. Yes, I'm over weight, but look at all the overweight successful people that didn't let the cruelty of the modern world get to them: Rosie O'Donnell, Kathy Bates, and even more popular, Oprah Winfrey.
Who's to say that just because I'm fat I can't enjoy life? I try to succeed and that is all that matters to me. Why should it matter to people that I don't even know? Besides, being skinny isn't something you can just buy at a store or McDonalds. I'm not sorry to say that as a girl that has been classified as "obese", I like to eat and be who I am.

Day 6

From what I see,
There is no where,
I would like to be.
It is not fair.

That I must click and click,
Causing pain and death
It makes me sick,
The lack of breath.

The fate of the world,
Is in my hands
A terror unfurls
The air is bland.

Who would have thought
Had my making been clearer
If only I'd been taught,
My luck was only sheer.

Too bad it is that
I am almost gone,
The button clacks,
I'll be done at dawn.

It is my fate
It is untimely
This gruesome date the
Hands of death, slimey.

Day 5

Doomed in a world with no hope, no directions.
I am lost; lost from all that I thought I knew. How could one I believed to be so kind be so much of the opposite?
Humans don't understand me.
I am but a lost soul in a lost plastic body. Plastic in every form possible. Morphed by the poisonous world that I live in. At this point in my useless life, I have no hope. I wish there was a way to end it all, to stop my annoying chatter.
Every time that I get used to a routine it clicks to a stop. All I do is lose what I can't even seem to find. I am a pointless object in a cruel world.

Clickity-Clicker Day 4

The hand felt more rough than I remembered, and I instantly felt unsafe. It was all I could do not to jump from his hand onto the floor; because, you see, all "inanimate objects" must never reveal their true, alive selves to humans. It was a rule. I cannot present myself to anyone. Just you, my little friend. You must see my innermost thoughts as they come across my mind. What mind, might you ask? I wish I could answer. I'm so confused as to what my point is on this here Earth, it depresses me.

It pulls me into a dark madness that nothing can pull me out of. I am a lost soul, but only just. I have no soul, am I right? It's impossible. What a cruel world we live in, Blog. What a cruel world indeed. Never did I expect Dr. Valdenstein to do what he did next. He took me to a lab in a deserted area of the world. I have no clue where, it must have been underground; it was so silent except for the whirring of machines and beeping of his computers. 

The most gruesome experiments followed. I was taken apart, poked and prodded. It was, perhaps, the most humiliating experience in my life. Still, he talked to me as if we were old friends, as if my pain was nonexistent. That night, while I was left alone in the lab room on that cold metal table, I escaped onto the streets of New York City.

Clickity-Clicker Day 3

What about a little clicker is so important in this world? It is a useless object; at least, that's what you think. Who is the man or woman that created this? Why did they create it? How was it created? These are all excellent questions that I think would make a great interrogation. But sadly, I, Click, cannot tell you that. Instead I can tell you the stories of my miserable life. When I was but a week old, I was thrown through a portal made by a scientist called Dr. Valdenstein. Before he threw me, he pressed his lips to my plastic casing and told me that I would soon find my destiny. Whatever the heck that means. He then told me never to try and travel back to the year 2, 732. The future of the world depended on it.
Now, I find myself wondering each and every day what this "destiny" was supposed to be. I was still to be used as a destructive device? Was that the destiny that Dr. Valdenstein had in store for me? I found out one Thursday afternoon when Valdenstein himself sprang from the middle of no where into my life after a five year long stay in the twenty-first century. I heard a bang and then a very familiar voice calling out, "I-Click! I-Click!"
I did not answer, I just merely waited for the voice to get closer as, once again, I was picked up by a massive thing with five appendages. I later learned it was called a hand.

Clickity-Clicker Day 2

Today was, perhaps, the most horrendous day of my nonexistent life. Why, you might ask? Well, let's just say that some random thing with five appendages picked me up and started hitting my nose-button repeatedly. Not only did this cause millions of little voices to scream in protest in my little plastic body, but it also triggered a loud booming and panting sound coming from behind me. Did I mention I have no eyes? I think I did. Did I also mention my presumption of destroying a whole other alternate universe with every click that befalls itself upon me? Oh, I did? Hm. I understand now.

Anyways, not only was I terrified for my well being, I was also scared for the trillions upon trillions of human beings and other such creatures that depended upon me. It was my duty not to click, not to be myself, and to become one with my terrible affinity. 

I was like a leper in a much different sense than the literal term. It was not some fatal disease that slaughtered me; no, it was much worse. It was a fatal click that slaughtered millions of innocent people. 

Why me? Why should I be the one falsely inanimate object that determines who lives and who dies? 

Clickity-Clicker Day 1

Hey, my name is Click. Click the Clickity Clicker. I know, it must be obvious what I do. And even if you're not too swift, I'll say it to you. I click. That's all I appear to do. Click. Click. Click. I am about two inches long with a giant, yellow button covering the majority of my face. I guess it is sort of like what you would call a nose. I cannot see due to the fact that I have no eyes. But, I do have a mouth right underneath the button. However, what you don't know is that I'm actually a device from the future. I come from the year 2,732 and my exact purpose is yet a mystery to me. However, sometimes, when I'm clicked, I hear little screams from all around me. I feel like the reason I was invented was to create some sort of terror. Maybe the year I came from is in some sort of war, and every time I am clicked a town explodes; maybe even a whole city! A whole country! What have I started?!