tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23978150979261281762024-03-05T08:40:19.646-08:0030 is the new 13Read along as I revisit my days as a preteen authoress.Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.comBlogger85125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-43266391789409582752010-08-19T12:27:00.000-07:002010-08-19T12:28:05.324-07:00The Pencil in the RyeHello? Hello? Are any of you still here? I think I may be jeopardizing my standing in the Worst Blogger Ever contest by posting, but screw it! I've missed you all terribly! Sorry for dropping off the face of the Internet the last couple of months. But I'm back (for now; let's not get too crazy with the promises), and—even more exciting—I've brought pencils with me.But these aren't just any Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-87487780558129376922010-05-12T11:06:00.000-07:002010-08-19T12:35:34.359-07:00Anatomically IncorrectAs an elementary schooler, I loved to draw. Girls. I loved to draw girls. My magic markers and I had a pretty rigid "no boys allowed" policy. There were several reasons for this:Boys. Grody. (Okay, okay, so hating boys was just a front. Really I loooooooved the boys, but sometimes a girl has to save face in front of her USA co-Crushers.)Because I was so accustomed to drawing girls, on the rare Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-26151812481012786932010-04-26T23:21:00.000-07:002010-05-12T11:45:05.439-07:00Show Me the BunnyYou know how when you were a kid, having a favorite animal was a Really Big Deal? And every time you'd be at a carnival or a gift shop or Carlton Cards at the mall, you'd pester your mom into letting you buy a miniature version of that animal? And you'd keep the entire collection on your bedroom wall in a wooden curio shelf shaped like a house? Well, for me that animal was the rabbit.For full Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-950301244567114912010-04-08T22:02:00.000-07:002010-04-26T23:27:51.862-07:00No boy bands allowedDo we have to talk about how long I've been gone? I've been gone a long time. A long, looooong time. The past two months were unexpectedly busy, but now it looks like I will—just as unexpectedly—have a lot more time on my hands. This is probably bad news for my bank account, but hopefully good news for the blog. So... yay?This installment of Every Picture Tells a Story was probably drawn during Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-6344090191274205572010-02-05T00:06:00.000-08:002010-04-13T17:48:31.217-07:00Prostitution PeopleThis picture tells a story beloved by schlocky film execs everywhere: mousy introvert gets contact lenses, a miniskirt, and instant popularity! It's titled (what, you guys didn't title your fourth grade drawings?) PERSONALITY PEOPLE. No, really.[You can click to enlarge, but please rest assured that we are going to cover this in excruciating detail.]Personality plus!Our heroine/fashion victim/Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-44806651385454948532010-01-27T11:03:00.000-08:002010-02-05T00:20:42.068-08:00The Future Is Now!The following was definitely some sort of class assignment to, I don't know, come up with an ad? Because I had Don Draper for a teacher? Not too sure. What I do remember is thinking that if this product existed, it would be the COOLEST. THING. EVER. Fast-forward 20-some years, and... well, see for yourself.What exactly is a Watch-a-call, you ask? And is Pepsi going to sue me for trademark Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-70534805537392063822010-01-18T22:41:00.000-08:002010-01-27T11:28:39.424-08:00Welcome to Tademy Academy: Part 2LAST TIME: Our narrator, Frankie "Franks and Beans" Chapman (I am so waiting for someone to address her as "Franks and Beans") and her pals spent upwards of five hours picking out clothing for the first day of 7th grade, only to end up in Aeropostale jeans and Keds. WTF? Meanwhile, they were asked to pledge Tademy Academy's most exclusive "social society"—and unabashed drill team mafia—the DeltasSadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-48222794841748056192010-01-13T21:25:00.000-08:002010-01-18T22:50:19.316-08:00Welcome to Tademy Academy: Part 1Guest author Kylie wrote this doozy when she was in fourth grade, just a few short years ago. No, really, you guys. Kylie just turned 14. Fourteen! When I was 14, the Internet didn't even EXIST.* But if it had, I certainly wouldn't have invited some 32-year-old woman to make fun of me on it. So, hats off to you, Kylie! And as usual, when I say "hats," I mean Claudia Kishi–style fedoras with, likeSadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-22947544780438588912009-12-30T23:02:00.000-08:002010-01-13T22:07:31.273-08:00You Like Me. You Really Like Me.Oh my gosh, you guys. Four of you nominated me for this award! Which makes me feel very, very special and pretty and popular (something I did NOT feel at 13)... as well as very, very undeserving considering most of you blog like 8,000% more than I do.Because I feel so guilty, I will try to follow the rules this time, even though it makes me feel kind of like I'm sending a warm-and-fuzzy blog Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-13148277953435949532009-12-06T23:22:00.000-08:002010-01-13T22:08:49.196-08:00Survey SaysBecause we were the epitome of cool, my sister and I had lots—and I mean LOTS—of pen pals in our teen and tweenage years. Writing letters was fun, but sometimes we liked to take it to the next level by creating insightful surveys on our word processor (sample query: "Did Paula Abdul get a boob job or is it trick photography?"). We would distribute lists of these pressing questions to our pen palsSadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-31400058928613096822009-11-23T20:22:00.000-08:002009-12-06T23:27:30.868-08:00Dear Sig: The Saga ContinuesWhen last we left the saga, Cleveland's lake effect snow had failed to providentially strand my fourth grade crush, Sig, at my house mid-blizzard. (Thanks for nothing, Lake Erie.) I was 99% sure that Sig was into me, because sometimes he would, like, look at me in class. The problem: He also tended to gaze at my friend Jessica. Another problem: Jessica liked him too. And also: Jessica was, oh, Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-32471816872172585002009-11-11T22:17:00.000-08:002009-11-24T09:03:15.402-08:00Fashion BackwardYou guys? Why do I have this blog format where I write novella chapter book–length entries? It's killing me. Not to get all Woe Is Me on you here, but the main reason for my spotty blog performance is that I have chronic forearm pain. (Starting a blog? Maaaaybe not the most brilliant idea I've ever had.) And I have two jobs! I don't want you guys to think I'm just lazy. Okay, SOMETIMES I'm lazy,Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-42920598330672253382009-10-15T23:04:00.000-07:002009-11-11T22:25:04.785-08:00The Strangest Thing Happened on HalloweenAccording to my fifth grade journal, my three favorite books that year were Just As Long As We're Together, The Search for Grissi, and Sister of the Quints. You see, I was into realistic fiction. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed a good yarn about dolls reenacting murders or a ghost who turned roses to mush while helping to uncover some hidden savings bonds as much as the next gal, but horror? Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-38957769118116183102009-10-08T22:49:00.000-07:002009-10-15T23:13:18.777-07:00The Babysitter: Now with 100% Less Babysitting!Hi. Remember me? Like a month ago I promised you babysitters being stalked by soul-sucking demons from hell? Well, the bad news is that my guest author (commenter extraordinaire Cory) couldn't wait and started posting this story on his own blog. (Really, I have no one to blame but myself.) The good news? We decided to post it here anyway! It's Halloween, people! And everyone loves a good Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-55481680641834301082009-09-07T23:19:00.000-07:002009-10-08T22:52:52.384-07:00Adventures in BabysittingAs you may have deduced from a glance at my blogroll, I was a huge Baby-sitters Club fan back in fifth grade. And since babysitting was obviously synonymous with Exciting Plotlines (we all know it's only a short leap from running a playgroup to discovering secret passages, flirting with sexxy lifeguards, and going on free cruises to Disney World), I thought I'd try my hand at a babysitting novel Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-56897313546463999392009-08-31T22:17:00.000-07:002009-09-07T23:29:32.432-07:00Leaving on a Jet PlaneI haven't had time to snark all of Lauren Lowsky, 100% babysitter, so I'm sneaking in a quickie first. This short story was an entry in my fifth grade school journal, and I thought it was totally eeeeeeerie and could definitely get me a gig writing for The Preteen Twilight Zone. (And yes, by that I mean Are You Afraid of the Dark? Or was that more like Tales from the Preteen Crypt? Discuss.)3/14/Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-3100924205287025492009-08-18T22:14:00.000-07:002009-08-31T22:17:38.570-07:00The Book ReportMy fifth grade Language Arts teacher decided to liven up book reporting... by making us write our reports on scoops of paper ice cream. She made a bulletin board featuring construction-paper ice cream cones inscribed with every student's name. Each time we read a book, we'd write a short description on a scoop of ice cream and staple it atop our cone.Nothing motivates children to read like paper Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-30372191406846564952009-08-05T22:28:00.000-07:002009-08-19T10:06:23.793-07:00P.S. Longer Letter LaterIn fifth grade, my friends and I had many activities we enjoyed doing together: rating the boys in our class on various predetermined qualities; singing along to Paula Abdul; eating Cool Ranch Doritos; choreographing elaborate dance routines to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack; and, of course, creating fictional characters who would then engage in epistolary feuds. The former is what we'll be Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-23128158543662343852009-07-29T23:01:00.000-07:002009-08-05T22:47:59.626-07:00I Want CandyLast time you read my entry into the fifth grade Advanced Reading Class's playwriting competition. This time? You get to read one of the winners! Because not only did I save my own abominably written plays, I also saved my classmate's. I'm a minimalist's worst nightmare. Melisa's Problem was penned by one of my fellow advanced readers—who will remain anonymous here, as I haven't seen her since Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-54454131368278397062009-07-14T22:56:00.000-07:002009-07-29T23:36:33.478-07:00Secrets, secrets are no funOur elementary school's Gifted & Talented program had a red-headed stepchild called Mrs. Donnelly's Advanced Reading Class. Actually, in Mrs. Donnelly's case, it was more of a dyed-blond-and-set-at-the-beauty-parlor-every-week stepchild, and it reeked of perfume. Oh man, did it ever reek of perfume. This was especially unfortunate because the Advanced Reading Class was held in a windowless Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-45222300558789592242009-06-29T11:15:00.000-07:002009-10-22T19:33:27.526-07:00That's Me!In fifth grade, we had a class assignment to write our autobiography. This should have been a piece of cake for me. I mean, I wrote at home all the time... FOR FUN. But? Those were stories about punk rock Valley girls! Runaway cult members! Girls who dressed up like hookers for Halloween and wired the insides of trees in their spare time! In other words, people with much more interesting lives Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-27900190622546235012009-05-19T20:16:00.000-07:002009-06-30T09:47:13.260-07:00The Ghost and the Cowgirl (Oh! Oww! Oww!)You guys? I know. I am the mayor of Slackerville. The CEO of Slack, LLC. The... um... head of something else that involves slacking. But I'm back! Again! And I've brought with me Shorlock Homes the Cowgirl and Jenany and Jonhhy, the Children of Terrible Spellers. Do you forgive me? Maybe a little?Guest author Michelle wrote these all-too-brief goodies when she was in second grade (circa 1998–1999Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-57240908532869344072009-04-22T12:39:00.000-07:002009-05-19T20:22:45.803-07:00Who Needs Another Mother?This one was inspired by two great tastes that probably DON'T taste great together: the no-nonsense prose style of Paula Danziger... aaaaand kidnapping. For those of you who don't remember, kidnapping was HUGE in the '80s! It was like the Snuggie of 20 years ago. (Speaking of Snuggies, you could probably use one to lure unsuspecting children into your windowless van. "Want to try on my blanky? ItSadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-22618230985350359242009-04-07T21:54:00.000-07:002009-04-22T12:49:06.231-07:00Ivy TwistsI'M BACK! I didn't mean to be gone so long, but extracurricular activities topped with an arm pain flare-up kind of effed me up for a while. You don't even want to KNOW how many unread items I have in Google Reader. But enough of the excuses! Let's hit the proverbial road and learn more about the 5th grade residents of Friendship, NY.If Friendship were a TV show, this one might qualify as a Very Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2397815097926128176.post-83338168629287285272009-03-14T17:43:00.000-07:002009-04-07T22:03:14.403-07:00My Life as a Pre-TeenThis week's Book That Never Was™ takes us back to the rural outskirts of Friendship, NY, where Samantha Rhodes and her two younger siblings have moved in with their Gram and Gramps... for reasons that are never quite explained. The story unfolds (or, more accurately, doesn't unfold) through a series of letters exchanged between Sam and Anita, her BFF back home—a series of letters that quickly Sadahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11794091589222172196noreply@blogger.com10