Thursday, 17 November 2011

Breaking Dawn

I'm dying to see the new Twilight movie. It's going to be awesome. I'm going to see the movie with my dad, sister, and Pat, my helper. We're out of school next Thursday for Thanksgiving, so my dad is going to take us then. Hopefully. My dad has taken me to see the first three movies. We saw the first movie three times. My sister wants to come because apparently, she knows all about it. I want to go because it is about vampires. Awesome. I really like to over think what the characters are doing while I watch the movie, and I like to compare the movie with the book. For example, in Eclipse, Bella is conflicted with the choice of immortality or love. She wants to be a vampire, but she also wants Edward to support her decision. She chooses love over immortality.  I also like to compare the movie with the book. New Moon - the book - was boring, dull and emotional torture. They portrayed that really well in the movie.

Hopefully, this movie will stick to the basis of the book: Edward and Bella get married, they go on a honey moon, then she is pregnant. Everyone wants her to get rid of the baby, except for the girls in the Cullen family.  I also hope the movie doesn't overplay the simplicity of the book. I hope they don't make the scenes too much. I hope in the fight scenes, they don't lose me.

I'm also going to be saying every word, because I have the book memorized.

Enjoy the trailer.

Friday, 4 November 2011

Make a Wish Picture

What do you think I'm thinking about? Post a speech bubble comment. (Have fun with it but please be nice.)


Today I want to write about choices. I’m starting to realize that my choices have more consequences when I make the wrong choice. For example, I spent most of my October break watching movies and watching TV. I also became more of a reading zombie. I was supposed to be doing my homework for math, RLA, Spanish and science. I became so caught up in the fact that it was a 5 day weekend, and saying to myself, “Oh, I have tomorrow” that on Sunday I had no more tomorrows and a lot of paperweight on my shoulders.

I was able to get most of it done but it was only average work. I could have done it better. (I guess I could have done worse too.) This week, those choices, of not getting my work done early and well, have come back to bite me. I’m exhausted because I have some catching up to do. I have a lot of homework, and I have other activities that I also have to do. I guess that I am learning that I have to use my time efficiently so this weekend, I already have a schedule as to how I will use my time. It’s not fun, but it has to be done.

WARNING: Leaving things to the last minute can only have a bad outcome. 

I have to go now. Yay, I have school work to do. (Said with a hint of sarcasm.)

Butterfly Fly

Here is a link to my latest painting video.

Friday, 7 October 2011

It's Wheely Art!

Every Wednesday, I paint. I paint with Ms. McFadzen, my fifth grade art teacher. She loves my mess. She says, "If it's not messy, it's not art." Ms. Mac is helping me express myself in another way where people can see what I can do and what I can create, without sympathy for me first. My stage is the canvass. She helps me tiptoe on my wheels and glide my way across my stage.

I paint using my wheels and with brushes attached to my wheelchair foot rest. With a symphony of colors and the lyrics to Glee, I'm in control of the the patterns, all gracefully lunging in and out with blue, red, purple, greens and golds.  When I'm in the art room, I'm just dancing to the music. Somehow I create a different piece of art work. Original.  No one has done it. I sing all of the words to every Glee song.

My painting, I titled "Poseidon". I painted with greens and blues to create the Greek god of the seas kingdom.

Keep Holding On, by Glee, played as I painted. Check out the link.

This is a picture of my  finished piece. 

My latest piece titled "Chaos and Frustration" uses four pieces of canvass and has a secret meaning to it. It was originally a star, and then we separated it to become four pieces. Ms. Mac, I'm creating titles as we write this blog. We can talk about it on Wednesday, but I'm not that good with directions. I'll change if you have a really really good idea though. 

I'm glad to be painting so I can express my more creative side. In the art room, Ms. Mac and I get in the groove. I love dancing with the paint. I don't really know what's going to come out on the canvass, but I let my wheels do the turns for me. 

Friday, 30 September 2011

What is a Wish?

This week in RLA we had visiting poets, and I was inspired to write a poem. Yay!
Inspired by Sara Holbrook and Michael Salinger

What is a Wish?

A wish is feeling like a rock star for a day,
instead of being reminded that I am sick.
It is cheeks up, teeth smiling with
an angelic presence.

It is being a celebrity at my school,
 while thunder and lightening come together with good lucks cheers.
It is a river of red T-shirts  
while my peers declare acceptance.
It is encouragement from my family.

A wish sounds like a hallway full of teachers and friends saying my name after daydreaming of being popular.
It won't silence or make me feel alone.
A wish won't disappear,
like my mom's fresh out-of-the-oven vanilla cake.
It was a different experience in itself.

And I haven't stopped smiling all day! :=)

Monday, 12 September 2011

My Family: The Soldiers

My family and I are very close. We tell each other everything. But when it comes to showing emotion: never. Ever.  So this is my way of saying, "I love you all." Every person in my family is one of my real life heroes. And here is why.

My sister is my hero because she is compassionate about other peoples needs.

Francesca Fairclough is my happy, annoying little sister. She has had different experiences from most 10-year olds. When my mom, Francesca and I decided to make DC cupcakes, it was my sister who made sure that I was able to see the flour being sifted, the eggs being cracked and milk being poured. She let me taste the batter and she put my hand on the whisk while we stirred the the mixture.   She is the person I bug, when I have no one else to bug. My sister feels - a lot. A bar of chocolate or a piece of warm melted cake could bolt an hour long run of Francesca's "I'm so happy, are you happy?" This shines light on my day. An angel one minute, my sister can also make me want to drive my wheelchair into her and not stop. We can yell about at each other for hours. (It's a blog, it's honest.) I love you Francesca, seriously. I love that you felt while I was in the pool. You are so compassionate. I love that you were right next to me, holding my hand. 

My brother is my hero because he is a mini-version of my dad without the tattoo or the tan.

Zachary Fairclough is my big brother. Zach is the one who helps me with my math homework. When I am stuck on a problem, he will come into my room, like Superman, and say in perfect Singlish, "I heard you have a math problem-lah. Can I help you fix it?" I am grateful every day that he is my brother. Most of his friends are worried about homework, girls and when the next game or movie comes out, but not Zach. He is worried about grades, homework and me. I am grateful for my brother. I love you Zach. 

Daddy is my hero because of the strength and bravery that he shows me.

Stephen Fairclough is MY Daddy. After my stroke, it was hard for me to adjust, especially to the idea of going back to school in a wheelchair. But, my dad encouraged me to go for it, even though I was reluctant. Getting ready and going to school, he pushed me until I could stand on my own six wheels. (My wheelchair has six wheels.) He held my hand while I cried my way through my first nose suction. He is my pusher. He pushes me when he knows I can do something. He pushes me to do it right. When he comes home from a long day of work, he will help me in and out of my chair. He asks me, "Babes, how was your day? What did you do today? What was for lunch?" Once a week, during the summer, my dad would take me to see a movie and then we would eat McDonald's. It was our Tuesday daddy/daughter date. 

Mommy is my hero because of the emotional strength she shows me everyday.

Sandra Fairclough is MY Mommy. She is the person I look to when I want to talk about my fears and bad dreams at 3 O'clock in the morning. She might be sleeping but she will come anyway. When my fears turn to dying, my mom listens and assures me that she will always stay next to me. She is my rock. My constant. My mom fed me Ben and Jerry's Vanilla ice cream while I was in the hospital, read me People Magazine, watched The Devil Wears Prada with me over and over again, and she kissed me on the forehead and hand told me she would have gelato with me after my surgery. When I come home from school and I'm in a crappy mood, my mom is still a happy, chipper mom. Mom, you lift my spirits in every way humanly possible. I know I couldn't have made it through the hospital visits, the shots, the IVs, and anything else without your hand. I love you, Mom. Seriously though, we totally need Ben and Jerry's ice cream to watch the Vampire Diaries with.  

I am saying it proud and loud, I love you all. Thank you for your little quirks. Those quirks always help brighten my day. 

Monday, 5 September 2011

I wish I may, I wish I might...

I closed my eyes as five men lifted the red mat. I am on it. I'm thinking the three don't s: don't fall, don't trip, don't drop me. I'm on the red mat in a swim suit. My dad, my brother, Zach, my brother's best friend, Dave,  Dave's dad, Mr. Dee, and my Make a Wish coach, Danny: I know their names because I'm trusting them with my life. All of these people are helping me to achieve my wish.

I wished upon a star that one day I might swim again. September 3, 2011, my wish came true. I was like a fish returning to a fish bowl. When my body first touched the water, I felt that I was safe. I was safe because I felt the love from each person holding me.  I felt relaxed. It was the most relaxed I have ever felt. 

Floating around the pool, I could feel the water touch my arms. The water was warm and the waves sang a song to my whole body,  "boom-ba, boom-ba, boom-ba".  It was as if the water was hugging me hello.  As I floated, my mind was watching a slide show of pictures from the last time I remember swimming with my brother and sister. I wore a vibrant multi-colored  two piece. It was my favourite. My siblings and I were playing splash, unfair advantage, two girls against the boy. It didn't stop him from beating us. Saturday, the water felt like home. The pool used to be my best friend and nothing had changed. 

I will see my old friend again soon. I'm going swimming again and this time, I am more excited than nervous.  

Friday, 2 September 2011

Wishing on a Star and IT COMING TRUE!

Ever since I was a little girl, I've loved being in water. I went in the pool almost every single day. The pool was one of my best friends. Six o'clock in the morning, my first thought was always the pool. The water would whisper my name. The water and the rush of cold would make me feel wide awake. After school, I would visit and play with my friend, the pool. 

Swimming was always a way to connect with my body. On land, I couldn't run as fast as the others, and I had terrible balance. In the water, I didn't have these limits. In the water, I could play gymnast. I could play cheerleader. I could even be a mermaid if I wanted to. On land, feeling like a penguin was a disadvantage, but in the water, it was an advantage. Being in the water, it didn't matter what if I waddled like a penguin. In the water, I could swim like a fish. The water on my skin brought me feelings hope. But then, I got sick; and, those feelings of being in the water had to stop. But they have never gone away.

One evening as I was whining through my algebra, studying for my final exam, Mom bounced in. She said, "I got a phone call today. It was the Make A Wish Foundation. I wished for George Clooney." "Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha," sarcastically, I laughed, "You're very funny mother." She told me they wanted to make MY wish come true and that they were coming to our house to find out what my George Clooney wish would be.  My first thought was that I wanted to see the premier of Glee, season 3, in person, because I am such a Gleek. I also thought about meeting someone famous, not George Clooney, but maybe Kelly Clarkson or Nina Dobrev, the star of the Vampire Diaries. I also changed my mind to a makeover. 

My brother suggested that I go swimming (he suggested this in his fake British accent). At first, I thought no way. I can't go through all of those happy memories followed by heartbreak because I won't be able to do it again. Then, I thought about floating. When I float, I daydream. I daydream about being able. I wanted to feel floating again. I want to feel able. I wanted to feel the water on my skin. I wanted it to be how it was before I got sick.

Tomorrow, I get to feel the water. Tomorrow, I get to feel able again. Tomorrow is the first time in five years that I get to feel normal. Tomorrow is the first time I will go in the pool. Tomorrow is my final practice with my family -  my heroes. Their effort, and patience, has made this happen. If this works, I will go in the water again for everyone else. After tomorrow, I will be surrounded by friends and more family. That day will feel like everyone coming to my party. That day everyone gets to see how lively I can be. That day, I WILL be the life of the party.

I am OVERPOWERED with nerves. I am hopeful. I am inspired. I am excited. I am terrified.

I am going swimming tomorrow!

I will post pictures soon.

Friday, 26 August 2011

A Shining New Perspective

I was born in Singapore.  I’ve never been anywhere outside of Asia. My parents are originally from England. They moved here because of my mom’s job and decided to stay because Singapore is a safe and happy place to raise two daughters and a son. In third grade, I transferred to Singapore American School from another international school in Singapore. The social and academic transition went perfectly. I was happy. I liked my teacher. I started making new friends.

When I was young, I always felt like I walked like a penguin: one foot slowly in front of the other. At SAS, I was treated fairly as if it was no big deal. Kids were nice and friendly. I was the girl who wore a splint on her leg and on her wrist, but I didn’t care, and neither did they.  Still, I was still. I was often the girl who sat near the back green door and didn’t talk to anyone. I would separate from others because I did not like them asking me questions. “Why do you limp?” “What’s your brace for?” 

However, I did have a best friend. Her name was Caroline. She had white blonde hair and could do effortless cartwheels on the playground. Caroline and I used to play freeze tag during morning break. We would also talk about how hard the fraction and multiplication was during math class. We would have play dates too on the weekend. During our play dates we would watch Cheaper by the Dozen, swim in the pool, dress-up as famous people. Once, we almost signed up to sing and dance in the talent show together. She was one of my real friends. She would do anything for me and vice versa. Unfortunately, we lost touch during the fourth grade when she moved to Kuwait.

During the summer between third and fourth grade, I got sick. I was so tired I couldn’t sit up straight. All I wanted to do was lie in bed and watch dog movies with my mommy. Then, it was time to start fourth grade. I had to start in a wheelchair because I was too tired to walk.  At that moment, when I was starting school in a wheelchair, I wished that I was the girl again in third grade who wore a splint on her leg and wrist. On the first day of school, I did not want to be the girl in the wheelchair. But, then I met Bill. He had broken his leg, and he needed a chair too. I was happy to not be the only kid in a wheelchair. I had a few fun and happy moments those first few days. Bill and I raced our wheelchairs on the bridge to the cafeteria. We only had one race, then unfortunately, we got caught. Ms. Redlin a bit unhappy with us.

 I also made some new friends that first day of fourth grade. I met a girl named Audrey. We were close friends at school, not as close as I was with Caroline, but still we were friends. I had a few good months, then my year was cut short by an annoying little stroke. It was in September and all I remember is that I woke up and wasn’t at home anymore. I was now living in the ICU. It felt like being in an observation dome, very annoying but yet exciting too. Every three hours a nurse would come in to poke me, prod me, or take something from me; but, it was also like real life Gray’s Anatomy: exciting, nurses, cute doctors.  I had been in the hospital 25 times, but this time, I would leave ... different. The doctor said I needed a trache. It would let me breathe easier, but I would not have a voice. I showed him. Within two hours, I was asking for gelato from Ms. Taylor, my school counselor.

I was in the hospital until about March and was ready to return to school soon after. My first day back, the London taxi dropped us off in the intermediate school car park because we had to take the elevator up.  I remember getting out of the elevator on the first floor. I wanted to see my third grade teacher, Ms. Dodge, but my mom wouldn’t let me.  We had to go to the IS office. Ms. Graham, my principal, bizarrely pointed me in the direction of the car park. When I peeked around the corner, I saw bright colored “Welcome Back” and “Chelsea” signs. I saw Ms. Dodge, Ms. Redlin, my fourth grade teacher, Ms. O and Mr. L’Hureaux. I saw Nurses Chan and Ms. Lynnette.  I saw the art teachers Mr. Ed and Ms. Mac. I remember seeing my sister, Fran, my friends Kathleen and Aline, another friend from third grade.

Throughout the next three grades I have learned how to embrace who I am now. I have learned how to whisper and make my words understood. I have learned how to irritate my family with funny noises. I’ve learned how to study and how to be ready for quizzes and tests in every subject. I have learned how read every romance vampire book known to SAS. I’m now in 8th grade which is so much more fun because I am embracing more of what happens around me. 

Friday, 19 August 2011

What I Feel

I'm Chelsea. I'm 13-years old. I am the life of the party when I'm not doing homework, or being a student, or being a sister. I am myself. I trust no one until they prove themselves worthy of my trust. Everybody is an enemy until I see good intentions, then, they're my ally. I live my life in the fast lane and never slow down. I do not believe in miracles, but I believe in wishes coming true. I do not believe in destiny, but I believe I am special. I know everyone has a philosophy on life. Mine is that everyone has a purpose and through that journey to greatness, their purpose will be revealed. My family is important. They have been through war and back. And yet, we still wake up at 6am, bake a cake, and decorate it to celebrate a family birthday. I am a teenager, but I have the mind of an adult. I take everything and nothing from no one.  A "Hey, hello, how are you?" or a blank stare in a mall, I don't mind. I won't answer a stare, but I will greet you back. I whisper, but my whisper is strong. When I speak, I might be frank. My whisper has courage through the words I say.

Though my whisper has courage, I find my inner courage by writing. This is why I am writing a blog. It is not only to make me stronger, but to make my story be known.Everyone in my school knows my story. Now, it's time, for the rest of the world to hear it. Like I said, my name is Chelsea. I'm a 13-year old girl. I am the life of the party.

Now you understand why I am doing this. Please leave a comment and share who you are and why you are reading this. If you have a blog, send me the link.

This is me, my brother Zach, and my little sister Francesca in our garden the day of my first communion. 

This is my dad, me and my little sister outside the airport. 

This is me and my family the Christmas after my stroke.