Stopped

   Sweat was pouring into my eyes, stinging them.  I blinked in the scorching sun, and the air looked blurry.  
I was standing on third base, waiting for Carol to hit the baseball.  I needed one good hit to get to home base.
   Tom stretched back and pitched the baseball at Carol.  She shifted in place, and swung.  Strike!  The next ball flew towards her, and she swung.  Strike!  The last ball curved slowly to Carol, but she missed...again. Strike!  
   I fumed furiously.  How dare Carol miss all three balls!  She had stopped me from making a fantastic triumph.  The whole team glared at her angrily.  I could tell that everyone was thinking exactly like I was.  I felt a small amount of pity towards her, but not nearly enough to actually comfort her.   It was her own fault.
 
 

My Biggest Fan

   I'd have to say that my biggest fan is probably my little brother.  He seems to think that I can do non wrong, and he has a habit of copying what I do.  You may think that many younger siblings do that, but he takes it to a whole new level.
   For example, one day he stole some of my clothes.  I suppose he felt that to be like me he had to dress like me.  It was an odd, but hilarious thing to see my little (at the time) three year old brother drown in my clothes.  He didn't look like me, if you are wondering.
   It's kind of awkward to have a fan.  I could probably get him to what ever I want, which is creepy.  I'm not such a big fan of having power over my little brother.  He should develop his own unique personality, not one based off my ridiculously morbid and flawed one.  My brother has the potential to be better.

My Odd Illness

   It was one of those days when all should be happy, but believe me when I say I wasn't.  The sun was shining into my eyes, increasing the pain of my headache.  The birds' usually pleasant chirping was about to drive me insane.  I felt like I was about to die from my illness, but that wasn't the worst thing.
   Whenever I felt like I was about to sneeze, terrible Britney Spears music played out of my mouth.  I really despise the music of Britney Spears.  Her voice is a sickly bubblegum sweet that makes you gag.  My mother, despite the fact she understood I was ill, sent me to school.
   Everyone was staring at me as Oops! I Did It Again played through the classroom.  Oh God, it was so embarrassed!  No one would go near me, and the teacher threw me out of the classroom for distracting the class.  It wasn't my fault!
   When I went home my mother gave me medicine that stopped the music.  Couldn't she have given it to me before I was forced to go to school?  

My Name

   My middle name is Anne, which means grace.  I haven no grace at all, but I know why I was named that.   It is a tradition in my family that the eldest daughter from each household should have the middle name Anne.
   It all started out when my great grandmother was named Anne.  She named my grandmother Marlene An Strigelli. My grandmother married my grandfather, Zenek Cybak.  They had three daughters.  The eldest daughter, Dana Ann Cybak, is my mother, although she isn't a Cybak anymore.  
   When my mother had me, after she had my brother, it was obvious my middle name had to be Anne (spelled with an E like the original).  My aunt had two daughters.  The youngest died, but the eldest still had the middle name Ann.
   That is the rather complicated story of why my middle name is Anne.  Unfortunately, I'll also be obligated to give my eldest daughter the middle name Anne.  I'm not actually a fan of the name, so it's a bit irritating.

Multiple Personality Disorder

   I have been diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, also known as Multiple Personality Disorder. Because of this I have another personality, Helen.  Obviously I have never met this personality, as only one of us can be in control at one time, but I do have dreams where I think I meet her.
     Helen looks just like me because we share the same body, but her personality is completely different.  She has a love of pink (ugh!), frilly dresses (ew!), and hates bats (gasp!).  If she had her own body I'm sure we would have never felt anything but irritation for each other.
   All of my friends have had to get used to me suddenly being replaced by her.  I'm pretty sure some of them actually prefer Helen.  I can't see why they would.  She's just too...flamboyant.  I've always been more of a quiet, antisocial creature, while Helen loves the limelight.
   I suppose we've both learned to live with each other, mostly because we have no other choice.  It's just something normal now.  So, we're both fairly happy.

Out of the Rut

   Ms. Sniper was a secretary at some non-descript law-firmlike all the others across America.  Her boss was the famous Mr. Richard Wilson, a billionaire.  Each day was basically the same.  She woke up at 5:27, ate approximately 200 cheerios with skim milk, dressed in a bland suit, brushed her teeth, and left her flat. 

   At work Ms. Sniper sat in a blue swivel chair, turned to her computer, and typed up Mr.  Wilson's schedule.  She then proceeded to answer the phone, arrange appointments, and force herself to smile at visitors.  At 4:00 p.m. Sniper left the building and took the subway home.

   This was when something went wrong.  Usually, she would simply eat food, read, and then go to sleep, but this time when she arrived home she realized something.  Her life was boring!  Unremarkable!  Absolutely disappointing!  It had to change.

   Sniper went to bed early, and in the morning she ate Froot Loops,  dressed in a pretty yellow sundress, and even sprayed a little perfume on herself.  She felt better already!

   When she arrived at work, she smiled sunnily at Megan, an intern.

   "Good morning, Megan!  How are you on this beautiful morning?" she almost sang out.

   "Oh!  Good morning, Ms. Sniper." Megan squeaked, utterly surprised at this new development.  She wondered how such a dull woman had become so happy.

   "Please, call me Lily." And with that, Ms. Sniper-no!-Lily pranced to her desk.

   Lily hummed a sunny tune, and started on her work.  Every visitor who came thought to themselves. How lovely their secretary is!  This must be a great establishment.  Lily was oblivious to this, as she was absolutely absorbed in her work.  Then, Mr. Wilson came out of his office.

   "Ms. Sniper, I need you to fax this to Mrs. Blake, my lawyer." he grumbled, without looking up.

   "Yes, sir.  Do you need anything else?" she said, joy filling her voice.

   Mr. Wilson was rather surprised by this tone from his usually boring, if reliable, secretary.  Who he saw was not who he was looking for.  This woman resembled his dull little secretary as much as a swan resembled a mouse.  

   This woman had short, dark hair,  a pretty dress, and a sunny disposition.

   "Ms. Sniper, is that you?" he gasped.

   "Yes, but please call me Lily." she smiled.

   "I see.  Lily, would you care to go eat lunch with me?" Mr. Wilson asked. "And please call me Richard."

   "O-oh! Sure, I'd love to."  she beamed.

   So, they did.

A Vacation to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory

   I am planning to vacation in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.  It's a beautiful place, filled with mouth watering candies, cakes, and other sweet things.  I could camp out in the room in which everything is edible.  The Oompa Loompas would perform for me, and serve my every whim.
   Willy Wonka, himself, would teach me the secrets of candy making, provided that I wouldn't share them with anyone.  Charlie would play games and chat with me.  I'd eat dinner with the Buckets and Wonka.  I'd drink the soda that make you fly, have an everlasting gobstopper, and help Willy finally fix his one- meal gum.
   Maybe I'd visit Augustus to give him an all expense paid membership to Weight Watchers.  Good idea, right?  Violet could have some "help" dealing with her gum addiction.  I'm sure she'd do fine in rehab.  Veruca gets nothing but a slap across the face, and Mike will be receiving nothing.  Instead I will be destroying his television.  All in all, a very satisfying vacation plan.
 

Diary of a Germ

                                                                                                                                         2-20-11
Dear Diary,
           My name is Influenza Virus.  You can call me Flu.  Today is the day I finally split off from my parent to go see the world of my host, Luca.  Luca is around eight years old.  Gee, she's ancient!

                                                                                                                                      2-21-11
 Dear Diary,
          I met another virus today when I was relaxing in the stomach acids.  Its name is Swine.  I think we will get along quite well.  Perhaps one day people will remember us as one being.  Wouldn't it be funny to be called Swine Flu?
         Anyway, it seems that Luca is becoming ill.  Perhaps I should go have fun by getting her sicker with Swine.  We're both pretty bored.  Oh well, it doesn't matter.  Luca seems to be dying.  I guess I'll have find another host.  I'll leave you here in Luca, Diary.  I can always start a new one.  Bye.