A day in the life of me

 We saw cool new house.

Got bored, now distracted in videogames.














finishing piano lessons, until next time.

Sister so hungry, eating her fingers.

Sister annoyed. I'm in trouble. Again.

Doing humanities homework, go figure.

Evil sister attacks, that'll leave marks.














In new house, Skye plays old videogame.

Calgary Memories

My life can be complicated. But everybody's life is complicated, right?
Moving. A gigantic part of life that isn’t always the most glorious experience. I can still remember the frosty morning I always used to wake up to in Calgary. The first day of school, new country, new people, and I was still 7 years old.
Suddenly I jumped up, as panic crept up my throat. I sat up in my bed. School!
“Mum!?” I yelled, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “Mum!?” I rushed across the room and started rummaging through my closet to find my new school uniform. After much yelling from me, my mother managed to lumber across the hall to get to my newly furnished room.
“What on earth is wrong with you?” My mum mumbled. She was slouching, which was unusual for her, and her eyes had no motivation to stay open any more. Her hair was a lions mane; bushy and tangled.  
“What’s wrong with me?” I said in dismay, battling to put my school tie on.”What’s wrong with you!”
“It’s 5 o’ clock in the morning!” My mum yelled, “school starts in 3 hours!” she rushed out, slamming my door shut behind her.
I stood there for a while, staring at the place where my mother had been moments ago. Humiliation and frustration took over me, as I fell into my bed, allowing it to consume me, as my trusty double-mattress swallowed me, caressing my half unconscious body.
Yes, that morning was the nerve-racking first day of school we all dread. What a great way to start school!
But life got better. It always does. I hope. After years filled of countless memories, I had naturalized to Canada. The icy cold weather, the dry air, black ice on the roads, my teachers and friends. All good things come to an end. I was told that we are moving again. But this time, I was moving to the other end of the earth. Not only would I miss my friends, but I’ll terribly miss my sister. She lives in New York, and just graduated. Since I’m going to be so far away, she would have to pay whole years salary to visit us.
I remember now, slowly opening my eyelids, as the warm autumn sun greeted me. My legs slid of my bed, touching the heated, carpeted ground. Slowly, I made my way towards the bathroom, my Pluto slippers dragging against the ground as I walked. I stared at the mirror. My hair was standing up. As always, I thought to myself.
A couple minutes later, I managed to creep down the stairs. When I got to the bottom, a wonderful scent wandered into my nose, filling my insides with warmth. I followed the smell, refusing to let anything come between it and me. I found myself in the kitchen; the usual scene. My mum was cooking egg omelet; with onions and chili’s, as my senses presumed. The music was blaring, as always. My little sister had found the strength to dance; how can she dance at 9 o’ clock in the morning? Who knows. My dad was already in the basement, burrowing himself into his work.
“ Ashleigh, set the table and ask your father to come out of hiding and eat breakfast.” My mum ranted.
“Ahhhh” I sighed, feeling joyful. A typical Saturday. What could go wrong?
Listening to the music now that we used to play at top volume in the morning, makes me somewhat depressed. We aren’t as joyous as we used to be. Or at least I’m not. The worst thing about it is that I actually know I’m shutting people out of my world.
My favourite place in our old house wasn't my room. It was the basement. I know what your thinking; I longed for the dark, damp, cold basement? Our basement wasn’t like that. It had my Playstation 3, Playstation 2, and Wii. Not to mention, It had surround sound, and a 52” wide screen 3-D TV. What a place.
I cautiously tiptoed across the floor, peeking around each corner, making sure my mum wasn’t there. She always finds a chore for me to do, once she figures out I’m playing video games(What a coincidence). I darted down the basement steps. The familiar basement smell greeted me, encouraging me to come in. I stepped in to the AV room. The lights dimmed. Across the room I could see the library, complete with a comforting fireplace. Perfect.
Writing about the basement makes the time I moved even worse. Even now I can remember that very day I left Calgary.
As we boarded the plane, I stared out the window. I was leaving. This was reality. As the plane took off, I counted how many seconds we were on the ground.
It was painstaking. My emotions flooded my mind, overwhelming me. A tear trickled down the side of my cheek. But I wasn't about to leave Calgary like this. Overcoming the sadness and fear, I choked down my tears, and forced a smile.
Calgary wasn't a city. It was a friend. It overflowed with welcome. Calgary was music. So many different possibility’s and ways to see things. Calgary was home. Something you could always come back to. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.

Creation Myth Paragraph

Throughout history, man has always gazed out to the stars, and pondered about life's natural phenomenon. In fact, all over the world, everybody had their own explanation. However, it is amazing how much these explanations are similar to each other.
I think themes of creation, cosmic eggs, and voids are at the centre of many creation myths, which is unusual because their ways of life are so different.
The Chinese creation myth and the Egyptian creation myth are both similar in the way that both of them have an ultimate creator. With that, Phan Ku emerged out of a cosmic egg whereas Atom, rose out of Nu, a void. In the Phan-ku myth, humans were created out of fleas, and Phan ku not only made the land; he was part of it. On the other hand, the Egyptian myth states that people were formed on purpose, but both myths have rulers that became part of the creation process themselves. In Egyptian myths, there are lots of different gods; in Phan ku, there are only two. Both myths include a void; Phan ku emerged out of no thing, and Atom rose out of Nu.
Finding out how people thought our world was made is important, because it could open up the mind's thinking process. Some Myths can be similar to each other, which shows that people, even from distant parts of the world, have somewhat close thoughts; if you believe that, you feel like the whole world is united.

My Bag

My Bag

My bag. This is no ordinary bag;(In fact it's not a bag at all.) it possesses everything that represents and/or is special to me.

The Holland flag. I've lived in many different countries, but the country I spent most of my life in was Holland. Everything from feeding the ducks in our pond, to scraping my knee rollerskating on the bumpy road, This item reminds me of all the mishaps and memories I got from living in Holland.

The Canada notebook. My teacher, from the school I used to go to in Calgary, gave this to me. Inside that notebook, is a special note she wrote me. The Canadian flag is on the front of this book. it signifies that I lived in Canada for 4 years. I hope to see her and visit my friends soon.

The wristband. This wristband was given to me by my friend in Calgary. I haven't taken it off since I left.(hence it's still on my hand in the photo) It not only reminds me of my friends, but it also has all the prospects of life on it.

The Ireland soccer ball. No, it doesn't mean that I'm a fan of Ireland or anything like that. I actually have a collection of balls; my cousins helped me to earn or win them. We usually go on holiday to Florida in December with them every year, but we haven't been able to visit as much any more. They live in South Africa, therefore we live far away from them.

The various ribbons. I didn't win ALL of them, but the reason I have so many is because I helped out in for sports day while I was injured with my broken leg. The ones that look different from the others are the ones I got from helping out.

The moose. I got this from Banff, which is close to Calgary. My family goes skiing and snowboarding, and we always go up the gondola to the store. I got this at the store, and it was the first thing I got that was special to me in Canada. I was only seven years old, so this moose was extremely exciting to my young, curious brain. It's not that I didn't know what a moose was, It was because the little toy was the first thing I got that represented Canada.

The white Guess jacket. I wore this jacket to my older sisters graduation. This jacket reminds me of the sacrifice I made to be at her graduation. At the time I broke my leg, she was graduating in the states. Just my luck. I traveled in a airplane, and attended the graduation with a cast that covered my whole leg. I even had to use a wheelchair. That experience of being in a wheelchair, gave me a whole new attitude towards some people who have to live in a wheelchair for their whole life.

The Ash only! notebook. Actually, this notebook isn't only for my eyes. Me and my friend from Calgary used to make stick figure comics in this book. He had his own book, and I had mine, but we both worked on the comics together, no matter which book we're using. When you look at my book and his, they form one big story.

The kinder egg car. When I was little, I loved to collect kinder egg toys. Not only did I love the chocolate, but the surprise toy inside was the reason I pestered my parents night and day to get me another one. My obsession for these toys was somewhat contagious. Therefore my little sister is always asking me to get her one.

The photo. This photo was taken not so long ago. It was my 12th birthday, and even though we were in the middle of moving, my family made the effort to book a restaurant. They really outdid themselves; balloons, special dessert, birthday cake, it was a big effort on their part. When I look at this photo I remember what a loving family I am blessed to have.

Writing about these items opened my eyes even more to how special they are. Even the ones I could barely remember I had are even more special now. I hope I will gain even more "my bag" memories throughout the rest of my life, and I definitely won't forget these ones!

What could a name possibly mean?

What could a name possibly mean? Let me answer that question for you. A name is a shoe. Something that fits, or really isn't comfortable. Either way, if it fits or not, they are with you everywhere. Names can cause happiness, sadness, and of course, envy. Sometimes I catch myself thinking; why on earth would my parents call me something like this? But truly, the name that seems strange to me, has a lot of thought put into it. To sum it all up, a name is an identity that is given to you from someone who cares.
My name is Ashleigh Moonsamy. Such a simple first name, yet such a horribly lost last name. The first name "Ashleigh" is so commonly used; which is a problem when you have it spelt like I do. My first name is a fish out of water.
My little sister; named after the island of Skye. Me? Named after nothing. My parents just "liked" the name and that was that. I must admit, my older sister has a hard name to deal with too; Philicia. She's studying to be a doctor, which backfired for her; a lot of people (including me) make fun of her name, and call her Dr. Phil. It's mean, but teasing her makes me feel better. My little sister on the other hand, is totally full of herself. Not only with her name, but in general.
We have a tradition; depending on which month we're born in, our name has a specific letter in it. S for Skye, P for Philicia, and L for Leigh. Yes, my name was meant to be Leigh. However, my Dad declared he would put an extra feature into it; Ash. Which then made my name Ashleigh. I wouldn't mind having the name Leigh, because I think it suits me, but Ashleigh, is even better.
The name "Ashleigh" originated in England, but at the time of my birth, it was popular in South Africa. Ashleigh means "Ash wood". Am I disappointed? A little. "Ashleigh" is a variant spelling from "Ashley", but I like the fact that not many people can spell my name.
As much as my first name might be popular, my last name is a different story.
Moonsamy. A ship lost at sea, a puzzle piece that doesn't quite fit, a wasp inside of a bumble bee's hive; a strange last name, although I wouldn't have it any other way. Nobody knows where my last name came from; not even Google. However, my Dad believes that it originated in south India, from an ancient surname; Moonuswami, and it has been westernized into Moonsamy. Moonuswami refers to the priests who take care of Hindu temple's in the south of India. My forefathers were Indian, and so is the surname Moonsamy. In the year 1820, the British brought the Indians, from India, to South Africa. During this this immigration processes, the British administrators literally registered the names of the Indian settlers as it was pronounced. In this way, many names were anglicized.

I like this picture; it shows a little bit of greek myth, but it's more modern.

It is such a pity that there are no records of our family tree. However, as much as my first name is popular, and as much as my last name has changed, my identity is mine, and I'm proud of it. I truly think my name fits me.