College Application

I am the most interesting girl in the world. I don't usually drink pop but when I do I prefer Vanilla Coke. I can kill 2 stones with one bird. In times of dire need it is not Batman they call, it is me. I can beat Chuck Norris. I once killed a wolverine, and then used CPR to bring him back to life.
Swag is for boys, class is for me. I don't walk away from explosions; explosions walk away from me. I speak fluent French in Russian and I have beaten Skyrim 3 times. The Leprechauns look for me. Often the Sun watches me rise in the morning. I am the last Jedi.

The Russians fear me. The East Indians trust me. And the Africans adore me.

I have created quite a few small websites that perhaps you have heard of: Goggle, Facebook and Twitter. I helped Martin Luther King Jr. right his speech and I single-handedly ended WW II.   

I have been on the cover’s of Seventeen, National Geographic, and People, all white eating a turkey sandwich.

Mondays I go for a light jog around the world finishing off with a hike up Mt. Everest. Tuesdays I raise the Titanic to go for a pleasure cruise across the Atlantic. Wednesdays are my relaxation day, I enjoy taking bubble baths and swimming with the sharks of Hawaii. Thursdays I end world hunger. Finally Fridays I travel to Egypt and aid Brendan Fraser in killing any awoken mummies.  A shark once bit off my right arm, but a sowed it back on. I have been shot at, but caught the bullet with my teeth.

When in Rome, they do as I do.
I once drew a picture on the back of a restaurant napkin when bored; it is now known as the Mona Lisa. I once sneezed on a canvas; it is now in the Louvre under my artist name Picasso.

I don't sleep with a nightlight, I sleep with a teddy bear. I haven’t read War and Peace, I wrote it. I don’t watch hockey, I invented it.

Pay Attention Class, Vital Information.

    "Pay attention class. You'll need this in life."
I'll need this? Since when? I don't see when I will ever need to be able to calculate the mass of a tree, or the length of the shadow it casts. But if you say so... I'm walking through the park and come across a statue; it appears to be about 1 ft. tall but just to be sure I'll pull out my measuring tape. Yep, 1 ft. exactly, perfect, now I can measure the shadow. Oh look, another 1 ft.! Awesome, this will be easy now. I pull out my scientific calculator that I carry everywhere with me and do the calculations, the angle appears to be 45 degrees. Good thing I learned that in school, it was definitely essential to my walk through the park. Oh Mr.Killick, good thing you taught me how to measure the cycle of a tidal wave and how long during two revolutions it is above 3 meters that is definitely essential to my day on the beach. As I walk through the grocery store I come across the produce section. This orange is nice and round, I think to myself, but just to be sure I'll pull out my protractor and measure the radius of the orange then divide it by 2 pi to find the circumference, then I'll see for sure if this little guy is really perfect, because that is definitely essential to my trip to the grocery store. All these situations make me see that math from grade 7 on is completely necessary for me to succeed in life. Recently on a trip to Manitoba I was driving and saw a train, I measured its speed and velocity then the length of the track it was on, from that information I was able to calculate that we would reach Manitoba approximately 2 hours before the train coming from the West and 3 hours before the train I just heard about on the radio heading from the East, because that is definitely essential to my drive to Manitoba. Thank god I was taught all of these necessary techniques in order to survive in life. Yes class, indeed you will need to know every single tiny piece of miscellaneous information you are fed throughout your highschool career. As you can see from my experiences, it is all important, all essential, all necessary, to survive the many years to follow after highschool.        

No Destination

A Saturday
      liquid with sunshine,
he meanders

he does not hurry, for he has no destination

yellow brick
    pockmarked
      chipped
no houses rendered unique
 by
   necessity
     and indifference
a suburban labyrinth

seedy-looking grocery stores
     children
       dart
         back and forth
      like startled fish

losing and finding himself endlessly

this act of faith
     locked in domestic grief

the last voluntary movement of his life
  he
   reaches
    his
     hand
      toward

the gun
  
   click
     bang
the last voluntary movement of his life

  his annoyance blossomed into self-hate

beyond the light,
 everything
  is
   obscured
    by
     darkness

Strawberry Sunrise

The blooming pink liquid was poured into the small Dixie cup. It gave the appearance of an early august sunrise with hues of pink, red and orange. All the colours of a crisp morning in the midsummer. I lifted the cup and took a whiff and was instantly hit with the sensation of my grandmothers' strawberry and raspberry patch. I could remember playing in the raspberry tunnel, sweltering in the heat of the August weather. The edge of the cup touched my lips and the taste enveloped every taste bud in my mouth. All the flavours you would imagine that come with a luminous daybreak. Sweet strawberry, tangy raspberry with a hint of juicy orange. The feel of twinkling smoothness as the juice ran down my throat was overwhelming; refreshing, rejuvenating and revitalizing. The memories of the all-nighter pulled at summer camp every year came back to me as I remembered watching the beaming dawn with all my friends. Still cool to the touch like the bite of early morning dew on the grass, all the sensations of watching a sunrise in the early morning. Absolutely unmistakable. The fusion of the three fruits hits at different intervals much like the colours of sunup. The first glow of pink strawberry hits the tip of your tongue followed by the sweet pigments of rosy red raspberries always accompanied by the undertone of flavorful orange. All the vibes of a true August morning sunrise wrapped up into one small Dixie cup. Simple perfection.     

We're All In This Together

123 Main Street
Penticton, British Columbia
V2A 3W1

March 8, 2012

Mr.Kleats
Central High School
123 Main Street
Sportstown, British Columbia
V2A 1W3

Hello Mr.Kleats,
My name is Marrissa, my daughter Jessica plays on your senior co-ed baseball team, The Wildcats. To begin I would like to congratulate you and your team on your 2nd place finish at provincials, it was a very well played final game. However, it has come to my attention that some of the parents of students on your team are concerned with the fact that you often arrive late, your practise's are somewhat disorganised, and I know personally that my daughter often becomes distraught when you yell at her. I find you may focus on winning too often and bench many students who deserve to play. I understand that you may have concrete reasons as to why these issues have occurred but i have some suggestions that may interest you.

I am aware that being a family man you may be late now and then, however, if it could be possible to arrange with one of the assistant coach's that practise be started on time without you, or even if you could teach the kids a few simple drills that they can do before you arrive it would be much appreciated. By doing so it would also create the opportunity to perhaps organise a set practise routine that the kids can follow in order to help organise the practise.

Also, I know that my daughter feels this way and I'm sure some of the other kids do as well that when you raise your voice at them it stresses the kids out. Perhaps a method of motivation rather than just yelling would get the kids' spirits up and they would be able to play better as a team. I understand that with our 2nd place finish you may think this method is fool proof, however, raising your voice to the kids may not be the healthiest choice for the happy atmosphere that a team should have.

My daughter, being one of your star players, does not suffer from this problem but she is concerned that you focus a bit too much on winning and often bench many of her other friends on the team. She has asked me to speak with you about this matter as she feels uncomfortable pitching almost every game while certain kids sit on the bench constantly. I see the need for competition and I fully understand the aspect of needing to win however, perhaps if you put some of the other kids in when we are ahead or begin practise with them they will improve their game and become better assets to the team.

Thank you for your concern.


Marrissa Swetlikoe


   

Leave The Past Behind

Marrissa Swetlikoe
123 Green Ave,
Penticton, B.C.
V2A 3W1

February 10, 2011

John Smith
Mayor
City Hall 568 Main Street
Small Village, B.C.

Dear Mr. Smith,
Although I am not excusing Mr.Grass' actions, I do believe that by exposing his past to the town it may result in a disruption of the peace due to his numerous contributions to the wellness of the community.

His past acts are clearly inexcusable but I have no doubt in my mind that Mr.Grass lives with the guilt and grizzly images of those trying times in the concentration camp everyday. I'm sure one could say that the contributions he has made to the community stem from his haunting guilt however, without those contributions many families would become very distraught. By putting  Mr.Grass in jail you would indirectly be taking the food out of mouths of those in poverty. His monthly contributions to families struggling to make ends meat makes all the difference in the world to them, they rely on his generosity.

Also, exposure of his past may result in an uprising of the factory he himself built. Workers would have a moral dilemma of their own in whether it is right to work under a man who was once responsible for the deaths of 1,000s of innocent people, and who's blood money no doubt contributed to the building of the factory. You may in fact have a uprising or boycott of the factory putting almost your entire town out of a job.

And lastly, his past is his past. Everyone has at least one black mark on their record and I understand his is a major one but either way, it is clear he has changed. A criminal is put in jail in order to change and then set free; Mr.Grass has been in his own personal jail and has evidently changed so he as well must be set free. Leave the past in the past and simply focus on the future. Mr.Grass' grandchildren do not need the guilt of their grandfather on their shoulders. Leave it be and keep the peace.

Thank you
Marrissa Swetlikoe

Same old song and dance

George looked up from shoeing the horse to see the outline of Curley's wife in the doorway of the barn. They were alone. She looked like a cool drink of water thought George.
     "All dressed up and nowhere to go?"  he enquired. She giggled and mumbled "Come hell or high  water, I'm gonna' look good". With a smile George replied "Well you're a chatty Cathy now aren't ya". She glared at him cold as ice "Just tryna' make conversation is all".
     "Cool your jets" George grumbled calmly, "Just pokin' fun".
     "Well you crossed the line". Curley's wife didn't like to be teased, she was sick to death of it. All her life she was made fun of at school for thinking that one day she'd get out of the small town and move on to bigger things, George's comment brought all those memories flooding back and she couldn't handle it. But she swallowed her pride and got her composure back for she was very lonely and it wasn't very often she got to talk to someone. George saw that it had upset her and bit his tongue. trying to make up for it he smiled softly.
     "Look don't cry over spilt milk" exclaimed George. Curley's wife turned up her nose and looked away. This angered George and he became defensive. "Why are you here anyways, just cut to the chase" he spat. Alarmed, Curley's wife drew a blank. She didn't know how to answer the question; she really had no reason for being in the barn so she stuck to her constant excuse and whispered "I'm lookin' for Curley" and she ran out.