ARGH!!!!!
I know it's impolite to "yell" in CAPS. But frankly I get a little angry when people start talking about Rights, Freedom and such. It usually means someone wants to convince themselves and others to TAKE something from someone else (usually something they don't understand, don't want to understand, and or are afraid to understand).
I don't pretend to know a lot about freedom. My life, I have been told, has been easy. What do I know of pain, suffering, trial and loss.
I haven't been in jail, I haven't even had a driving ticket. I don't even have my own car.
I haven't killed anyone, I haven't seen someone murdered, I haven't had a family member killed.
I have never starved, I am not in need of food and I will probably never feel real hunger.
I don't do drugs; legal (beer, nicotine, proscription(when I can avoid the doc), or illegal (pot, pain meds, heroin, acid, etc..) I don't have any terribly disfiguring wounds, illnesses or problems. I've never had braces, or glasses and I haven't been more or less than average weight my whole life.
I'm not afraid of spiders, or small places, heights, water or so far anything but being a grownup.
But I do know compassion, how to listen. I give free hugs. I love with all my heart and have felt stricken when loved ones have died/ left/ or hurt me.
I have friends who have been in jail, gotten tickets and let me borrow their cars. I know people heartbroken from killing or losing someone (cops/ army/ car crash, etc). I've fasted, for medical and spiritual reasons. I've visited bad sections of cities and donate to those I can aid. I have scars, and soft teeth.
I respond very rarely to chat lines and even this blog is out of character for me. I'm not a very public speaking person. I have no problem speaking in front of people or too people. I just don't like imposing my tirades on others a high point of life.
I understand as well that by using generalized words like They, People and Someone I can further perpetuate the problem. I don't want to cause a debacle around "who said what and why it was wrong." I just would like to see better prepared arguments, Evidentiary support, and maybe even a little understanding.
There are WAY more than 2 sides to every story. But that doesn't mean the author knows what they're talking about. Or that they don't.
Take this little snippet I took from a chat board online.
~~~
CPB:
Every cult wants to rule the world.
USC:
its like saying the founding fathers, or the apostles were part of a cult.
MHG:
The root of Culture = Cult
Cult:
1.a particular system of religious worship, esp. with reference to its rites and ceremonies.
2.an instance of great veneration of a person, ideal, or thing, esp. as manifested by a body of admirers: the physical fitness cult.
3.the object of such devotion.
4.a group or sect bound together by veneration of the same thing, person, ideal, etc.
5.Sociology. a group having a sacred ideology and a set of rites centering around their sacred symbols.
Connotation aside sounds like they were a cult to me.
AVS:
Hahaha, Gotta love America, A big Bowl of mixed people/races that can't agree.
~~~
Freedom. Rights.
Why use words that you can't even agree to the meaning of?
Do you feel better as a bully, or the one bullied?
______
Later
After searching around more posts for a little clarity I remember the words from one of my favorite old guys, when he thought about why people spend so much time debating the subject of how many stars there were. He pronounced "It's because anyone could express his profound conviction on the subject without fear of being proven wrong, because it was impossible to know the answer."
Friday, August 20
Sunday, August 15
Wall posts
Without Love Breath is just a clock Ticking.
Without Breath Love is just Necrophilia.
Isn't life great :)
Without Breath Love is just Necrophilia.
Isn't life great :)
No, nothing I regret nothing.
I've told many beauxs and friends that "I don't regret anything I've done." I'm not a saint or a horrible sinner. I'm a little bit of a diva and I like the pleasure of a man's company.
In different languages I feel more open to the lyrics.
It started when I was very young.
My grandmother "Oma" would say a little prayer with me at night.The prayer goes like this :
Ich bin klein, mein Herz ist rein. Daß niemand drinnen wohnen kann, aber Jesus allein.
I am small. My heart is pure. That no one can live inside but Jesus alone.
It's a little less depressing than, "If I should die before I wake." And I believe my Oma lived to that prayer.
My mother learned it when she was little and she kept up the habit until I was old enough to doubt religion and didn't know my grandmother anymore.
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu'on M'a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M'est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
see'est Paye, Balaye, Oublie, Je Me Fous do Passe
My grandmother married my grandfather. A young soldier in the American Army during WWII. She grew-up in Geisfeld/Bamburg and he in Cleves Ohio.
He brought her back to the USA as was the way. She didn't speak German at home, Americans couldn't distinguish the Germans they didn't know from the Germans they didn't want to know. So, she raised five kids, grew a tasty garden of veggies and was the best woman I got to do dishes with.
I learned from her, to always keep mints in my purse. To sew, and most importantly; To love god and my fellow humans.
Avec Mes Souvenirs J'ai Allume Le Feu
Mes chagrins, Mes Plaisirs,
Je N'ai Plus Besoin D'eux
Balaye Les Amours Avec Leurs Tremolos
Balaye Pour Toujours
Je Repare A Zero
My mother left home before she even moved out. She couldn't wait to get away from her lost father and yet was crushed to leave her mother. As young kids, we visited twice a year, but then only once every two years. I don't think my mother forgave herself for being away during the last years of her mothers life.
Stille Nacht (Silent Night) was my Oma's favorite song -my mother remembers-
When I hear the words in any language, it's like a vocal hug from my grandmother.
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu'on M'a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M'est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Car Ma Vie, Car Mes Joies
Aujourd'hui Ca Commence Avec Toi
The song Edelweiß from the Sound of Music is also like my grandmother. It's written by Americans; my grandmother was made into an American. It's connection to Germany is faint and only known to the few who look for deeper meaning- ask an Austrian or German about the song and they will know it from the musical only; I only know of one trip back to Germany my grandmother has taken since she left with my grandfather. And both, when I think of them, bring a warm soft wetness to my eyes. A small white flower that lives on mountains is worn by the best of soldiers. A woman who learned how to live with a war survivor who never came home.
The English language is like most Americans. A bratty, rough, mutt that will change with a whim or fad. The English dictionary grows with each passing year. Who needs new words when the old ones are more suitable for the task. Don't start adding new things without knowing the old. I love the quote from "My Fair Lady" Dr Henry Higgins says: " In France every Frenchman knows his language from 'A' to 'Zed' -
The French don't care what they do, actually, as long as they pronounce it properly."
That's why I love schools teaching young kids more than one language. We teach more than one subject. It opens the mind. It allows a wider understanding. If you eat the same food every day, not only will your body lack certain nutrients but you will also starve your taste-buds and mind of the wonders of choice. A different lens can show a better view.
Listen to more than pop, watch movies that aren't just in BluRay. Read books that aren't only found on the Best Sellers rack. Walk down a street that doesn't have a bar or mall on it.
and you know what you'll find...
... Everything (tutto).
In different languages I feel more open to the lyrics.
It started when I was very young.
My grandmother "Oma" would say a little prayer with me at night.The prayer goes like this :
Ich bin klein, mein Herz ist rein. Daß niemand drinnen wohnen kann, aber Jesus allein.
I am small. My heart is pure. That no one can live inside but Jesus alone.
It's a little less depressing than, "If I should die before I wake." And I believe my Oma lived to that prayer.
My mother learned it when she was little and she kept up the habit until I was old enough to doubt religion and didn't know my grandmother anymore.
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu'on M'a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M'est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
see'est Paye, Balaye, Oublie, Je Me Fous do Passe
My grandmother married my grandfather. A young soldier in the American Army during WWII. She grew-up in Geisfeld/Bamburg and he in Cleves Ohio.
He brought her back to the USA as was the way. She didn't speak German at home, Americans couldn't distinguish the Germans they didn't know from the Germans they didn't want to know. So, she raised five kids, grew a tasty garden of veggies and was the best woman I got to do dishes with.
I learned from her, to always keep mints in my purse. To sew, and most importantly; To love god and my fellow humans.
Avec Mes Souvenirs J'ai Allume Le Feu
Mes chagrins, Mes Plaisirs,
Je N'ai Plus Besoin D'eux
Balaye Les Amours Avec Leurs Tremolos
Balaye Pour Toujours
Je Repare A Zero
My mother left home before she even moved out. She couldn't wait to get away from her lost father and yet was crushed to leave her mother. As young kids, we visited twice a year, but then only once every two years. I don't think my mother forgave herself for being away during the last years of her mothers life.
Stille Nacht (Silent Night) was my Oma's favorite song -my mother remembers-
When I hear the words in any language, it's like a vocal hug from my grandmother.
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu'on M'a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M'est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Car Ma Vie, Car Mes Joies
Aujourd'hui Ca Commence Avec Toi
The song Edelweiß from the Sound of Music is also like my grandmother. It's written by Americans; my grandmother was made into an American. It's connection to Germany is faint and only known to the few who look for deeper meaning- ask an Austrian or German about the song and they will know it from the musical only; I only know of one trip back to Germany my grandmother has taken since she left with my grandfather. And both, when I think of them, bring a warm soft wetness to my eyes. A small white flower that lives on mountains is worn by the best of soldiers. A woman who learned how to live with a war survivor who never came home.
The English language is like most Americans. A bratty, rough, mutt that will change with a whim or fad. The English dictionary grows with each passing year. Who needs new words when the old ones are more suitable for the task. Don't start adding new things without knowing the old. I love the quote from "My Fair Lady" Dr Henry Higgins says: " In France every Frenchman knows his language from 'A' to 'Zed' -
The French don't care what they do, actually, as long as they pronounce it properly."
That's why I love schools teaching young kids more than one language. We teach more than one subject. It opens the mind. It allows a wider understanding. If you eat the same food every day, not only will your body lack certain nutrients but you will also starve your taste-buds and mind of the wonders of choice. A different lens can show a better view.
Listen to more than pop, watch movies that aren't just in BluRay. Read books that aren't only found on the Best Sellers rack. Walk down a street that doesn't have a bar or mall on it.
and you know what you'll find...
... Everything (tutto).
Wednesday, August 11
zzzZZZZ
Why so elusive? The slumber I need in the bed that I have, it's fading from me like the patience I had.
I've read, I've written, I've taken a bath. Nothing it seems will quicken my repast.
Lights turned off, eyelids wide shut. Slowing my breathing will get me out of this rut.
I punch my pillow to iron out the creases and try to turn over, on my right no sleep either.
Too quiet the room to loud the basement. Without another spoon, this one can't make it.
In the dark, thoughts keep me up. The maybe's and mistakes; will I ever be enough?
Questions I ask of myself and others. only make my mind sharper and the shadows look longer.
No stars comfort, no melatonin will alter, this whitewashed mind that stays up way too often.
Encumbered by nightgowns, no mummy is made. Just myself in this chamber Sandman must be paid.
Stuffed animals and creatures are scattered on the floor, they hold no comfort for me anymore.
Day or night, it matters not. I'll light the lamp, or mimic the sloth.
Just let me sleep, oh let this mind try I'm restless, my thoughtlessness no longer denied.
Under the sheets, over the blankets, my leg curls until I wake up.
Bleary eyed, bushy haired my night rushed by without dream or mare.
Tomorrow and today are one and the same. now rise up. Get up. Don't just lay there.
I've read, I've written, I've taken a bath. Nothing it seems will quicken my repast.
Lights turned off, eyelids wide shut. Slowing my breathing will get me out of this rut.
I punch my pillow to iron out the creases and try to turn over, on my right no sleep either.
Too quiet the room to loud the basement. Without another spoon, this one can't make it.
In the dark, thoughts keep me up. The maybe's and mistakes; will I ever be enough?
Questions I ask of myself and others. only make my mind sharper and the shadows look longer.
No stars comfort, no melatonin will alter, this whitewashed mind that stays up way too often.
Encumbered by nightgowns, no mummy is made. Just myself in this chamber Sandman must be paid.
Stuffed animals and creatures are scattered on the floor, they hold no comfort for me anymore.
Day or night, it matters not. I'll light the lamp, or mimic the sloth.
Just let me sleep, oh let this mind try I'm restless, my thoughtlessness no longer denied.
Under the sheets, over the blankets, my leg curls until I wake up.
Bleary eyed, bushy haired my night rushed by without dream or mare.
Tomorrow and today are one and the same. now rise up. Get up. Don't just lay there.
Where do I want to be in 5 years
A blog at 2am.
I want to be in an abode of my own.
Have a car I enjoy driving.
And a man who won't mind writing.
A new hair style is due.
Throw away ALL but 6 pairs of shoes.
If you haven't looked at it in a year, you don't miss it.
Captain, at least.
No marks on your license.
Getting closer to marriage.
Facebook, don't get me started. (You remember Myspace)
Two more countries down and four states minimum.
Able to cook, meat, fish and poultry and one veggie dinner superbly.
Publish something, or present a creation of your very own.
Clean inbox, full mailbox.
No empty locket.
I want to be in an abode of my own.
Have a car I enjoy driving.
And a man who won't mind writing.
A new hair style is due.
Throw away ALL but 6 pairs of shoes.
If you haven't looked at it in a year, you don't miss it.
Captain, at least.
No marks on your license.
Getting closer to marriage.
Facebook, don't get me started. (You remember Myspace)
Two more countries down and four states minimum.
Able to cook, meat, fish and poultry and one veggie dinner superbly.
Publish something, or present a creation of your very own.
Clean inbox, full mailbox.
No empty locket.
Another world
I love getting lost in fiction.
The impossible feats accomplished by somewhat ordinary people. Major characters that always get their happy ending. I started to love the things an author could create within the world of words.
My favorite worlds include:
Xanth
Phase/Proton
Amber
Shannara
Aloria
Discworld
Middle Earth
Westland/ Midlands/ D'Hara and the Old World
Star Wars universe
Lyra's Oxford
Julie's tundra
and Earth, in more ways than one.
I could Travel these worlds with the lick of a fingertip, or a very dextrose thumb.
I've dropped lots of books in the tub, with or without the aid of a shelf. I've dropped crumbs and ink and drink and been mad at myself.Do you know what happens to gummy worms left in a hot car? They melt onto your favorite novel and redecorate the cover of somebody's memoir.
After watching Finding Forrester I don't 'dog-ear' books, and I have traded real bookmarks for gum wrappers, receipts and dollars. Whatever's laying around when I have to pause. It's half the fun to return to a story without a map and rekindle the journey and see what marker guides my path.
Thank you authors,
Thank you for stories.
Thank you for morals,
And mischief soon sorted.
Thank you for people I can oft relate to
Thank you for accents and names I cannot pronounce.
Thank you for centaurs, lovers, dwarves, heros and cats.
Thank you Terry's for all your wonderful detail.
Thank you Initials (A.C., P.J., C.S., J.R.R.) for talking.
I've left out some that I know I have loved,
Not out of spite, but a simple mind now done.
I've many talents I'm sure but my favorite is this one,
To forget enough detail and love repetition.
For this means I love your books, not once and then never,
But over and over, find new reasons to smell the leather.
In waking I dream of fiction,
In dreams I live with non.
With my words I live my life,
With printed words I see yours.
Thank you for giving me my heart back,
My imagination and humor some company and silence.
Anticipation, discovery, knowledge and meaning.
Thank you for leaving some things unspoken, and hidden.
My books may have broken spines and they have have writing in the margins. I've fallen asleep more nights with a book in my hand, under my pillow, or lost in the covers; that 20yrs of marriage will have to work hard to reach the same number.
I can travel in movies and some made from books are a wonder. Like books, movies have a certain 'author'. They tell a story and have a lot to offer. But they don't let you create. You see people reading in many a television program, but do you hear of an author describe a movie in his prose? Will you
Movies are grand, they tease the senses
But books...
((sigh))
The creation doesn't stop after production and distribution.
The door has merely opened for your mind to run through it.
That's why I cherish my books. The old and the young. From Julius the Baby of the World to the Iliad (which I still haven't read). They'll teach me something, every time I read them.
The impossible feats accomplished by somewhat ordinary people. Major characters that always get their happy ending. I started to love the things an author could create within the world of words.
My favorite worlds include:
Xanth
Phase/Proton
Amber
Shannara
Aloria
Discworld
Middle Earth
Westland/ Midlands/ D'Hara and the Old World
Star Wars universe
Lyra's Oxford
Julie's tundra
and Earth, in more ways than one.
I could Travel these worlds with the lick of a fingertip, or a very dextrose thumb.
I've dropped lots of books in the tub, with or without the aid of a shelf. I've dropped crumbs and ink and drink and been mad at myself.Do you know what happens to gummy worms left in a hot car? They melt onto your favorite novel and redecorate the cover of somebody's memoir.
After watching Finding Forrester I don't 'dog-ear' books, and I have traded real bookmarks for gum wrappers, receipts and dollars. Whatever's laying around when I have to pause. It's half the fun to return to a story without a map and rekindle the journey and see what marker guides my path.
Thank you authors,
Thank you for stories.
Thank you for morals,
And mischief soon sorted.
Thank you for people I can oft relate to
Thank you for accents and names I cannot pronounce.
Thank you for centaurs, lovers, dwarves, heros and cats.
Thank you Terry's for all your wonderful detail.
Thank you Initials (A.C., P.J., C.S., J.R.R.) for talking.
I've left out some that I know I have loved,
Not out of spite, but a simple mind now done.
I've many talents I'm sure but my favorite is this one,
To forget enough detail and love repetition.
For this means I love your books, not once and then never,
But over and over, find new reasons to smell the leather.
In waking I dream of fiction,
In dreams I live with non.
With my words I live my life,
With printed words I see yours.
Thank you for giving me my heart back,
My imagination and humor some company and silence.
Anticipation, discovery, knowledge and meaning.
Thank you for leaving some things unspoken, and hidden.
My books may have broken spines and they have have writing in the margins. I've fallen asleep more nights with a book in my hand, under my pillow, or lost in the covers; that 20yrs of marriage will have to work hard to reach the same number.
I can travel in movies and some made from books are a wonder. Like books, movies have a certain 'author'. They tell a story and have a lot to offer. But they don't let you create. You see people reading in many a television program, but do you hear of an author describe a movie in his prose? Will you
read
about some guy sitting, snacking on Dorito's while watching Seventh Heaven. NoMovies are grand, they tease the senses
But books...
((sigh))
The creation doesn't stop after production and distribution.
The door has merely opened for your mind to run through it.
That's why I cherish my books. The old and the young. From Julius the Baby of the World to the Iliad (which I still haven't read). They'll teach me something, every time I read them.
Because each time I return to the authors' words, I'm a new artist looking at the same paints in a drawer. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I hold the paintbrush once more.
Thursday, June 17
Mission: Transition
Graduated.
Wow.
My first little look into the world of college educated work.
One week after graduation I was working 10hr days and two weeks later I'm working 20hr days. Here's hoping I don't have to increase any further.
Keeping busy has been a good way for me to stay out of trouble. I guess it stems from my slight ADD, when my mind gets time to work "Hang on to your butts" the imagination drive kicks in faster than the hyper-drive on the Millennium Falcon.
Part of the transition is learning how to react to people (of all ages) as peers. From a young age my parents tried to instill a sense of hierarchy and respect due to those older than me. Teachers, family members and adults in general. I call most men Sir and most women Ma'am. Something that should not be done to NCO's in the military.
I'm learning about how to lead, through the mistakes of those who don't lead well.
I'm learning how to treat other people each time someone treats me in an inappropriate way.
And I'm learning about myself, when I try to council and develop those under my care.
I've found those who I can count on. On a day when smiling is difficult, they see it as their duty to make me smile.
For people who care about others, I say thank you.
For those who make the time, No Matter WHAT they are doing, to show kindness and love. You are truly the best of us all.
To end, my mission is not to transfer my routines into a new job, or life; but to grow and develop new patterns that will make me more successful in the next stage of my life.
Wow.
My first little look into the world of college educated work.
One week after graduation I was working 10hr days and two weeks later I'm working 20hr days. Here's hoping I don't have to increase any further.
Keeping busy has been a good way for me to stay out of trouble. I guess it stems from my slight ADD, when my mind gets time to work "Hang on to your butts" the imagination drive kicks in faster than the hyper-drive on the Millennium Falcon.
Part of the transition is learning how to react to people (of all ages) as peers. From a young age my parents tried to instill a sense of hierarchy and respect due to those older than me. Teachers, family members and adults in general. I call most men Sir and most women Ma'am. Something that should not be done to NCO's in the military.
I'm learning about how to lead, through the mistakes of those who don't lead well.
I'm learning how to treat other people each time someone treats me in an inappropriate way.
And I'm learning about myself, when I try to council and develop those under my care.
I've found those who I can count on. On a day when smiling is difficult, they see it as their duty to make me smile.
For people who care about others, I say thank you.
For those who make the time, No Matter WHAT they are doing, to show kindness and love. You are truly the best of us all.
To end, my mission is not to transfer my routines into a new job, or life; but to grow and develop new patterns that will make me more successful in the next stage of my life.
Wednesday, May 5
Heart wrenching
Bagpipes play Amazing Grace.
The pipers' steps punctuate the beat as they march forward
and leave a body behind.
They breathe and don't as the bag twinges and echoes,
This haunting tune of hope and loss.
A lone bugler stands erect and proud, hidden behind mourners,
sounding Taps aloud.
His call resonates that all is well,
There are others standing watch, where some have fell.
A flag that no longer waves will be tear stained forever.
Unwashed but cherished; forgotten never.
My service won’t be enough.
My efforts can never bring them back.
My life is their legacy.
God bless you, my grandfather, my uncle, cousin and friend,
My brothers, sisters in arms; the unnamed cannot rend.
May the wings of angels be your shield and the whisper of God be in your ear.
Watch over us now as we walk free. Be my guide, so that I cannot mislead.
I look to the ones who’ve suffered before,
They trudged all the paths across sea and shore.
Follow me, I'll yell as we march towards battle,
Not a hero, just a Louie who's knees and teeth still clatter.
My teachers are soldiers, subordinate not friend,
It is me, on whom they will eventually depend.
They've surrendered their time and hope it wasn’t wasted.
On something too many have dreamed but not tasted.
Dusk and dawn are nothing but colors.
Help me remain vigilant every moment ours.
Their bodies have failed them, their hearts stopped beating.
But in the wind and the silence I can just hear them screaming.
“Remember the patch that's on my right shoulder.
It's folded now, and my body may molder.
A soldier doesn't ask for much more than this,
To be known as a servant who volunteered for the risk.”
I’ll bring them home, and let them sleep through the night.
Their lives are more precious than mine, am I right?
God grant me… God give me… God, take care of my family,
The private, the specialist, the sergeant; I prithee.
Serenity, strength, and wisdom above all,
I’m ready to stand, I’ll answer the call.
The pipers' steps punctuate the beat as they march forward
and leave a body behind.
They breathe and don't as the bag twinges and echoes,
This haunting tune of hope and loss.
A lone bugler stands erect and proud, hidden behind mourners,
sounding Taps aloud.
His call resonates that all is well,
There are others standing watch, where some have fell.
A flag that no longer waves will be tear stained forever.
Unwashed but cherished; forgotten never.
My service won’t be enough.
My efforts can never bring them back.
My life is their legacy.
God bless you, my grandfather, my uncle, cousin and friend,
My brothers, sisters in arms; the unnamed cannot rend.
May the wings of angels be your shield and the whisper of God be in your ear.
Watch over us now as we walk free. Be my guide, so that I cannot mislead.
I look to the ones who’ve suffered before,
They trudged all the paths across sea and shore.
Follow me, I'll yell as we march towards battle,
Not a hero, just a Louie who's knees and teeth still clatter.
My teachers are soldiers, subordinate not friend,
It is me, on whom they will eventually depend.
They've surrendered their time and hope it wasn’t wasted.
On something too many have dreamed but not tasted.
Dusk and dawn are nothing but colors.
Help me remain vigilant every moment ours.
Their bodies have failed them, their hearts stopped beating.
But in the wind and the silence I can just hear them screaming.
“Remember the patch that's on my right shoulder.
It's folded now, and my body may molder.
A soldier doesn't ask for much more than this,
To be known as a servant who volunteered for the risk.”
I’ll bring them home, and let them sleep through the night.
Their lives are more precious than mine, am I right?
God grant me… God give me… God, take care of my family,
The private, the specialist, the sergeant; I prithee.
Serenity, strength, and wisdom above all,
I’m ready to stand, I’ll answer the call.
Do you like Apples?
WELL I got her number. How do you like them apples?
Good Will Hunting is definantly on my top ten list of movies, and I'm pretty sure if I watch all the movies ever made it will still be in the top ten percent.
Ben Affleck and Matt Damon are a great team of pals in this story of life with a touch of surreality. Robin Williams, let me just say, is awesome. Comedy, tragedy, drama, irony, you name it this guy can embody it. I don't think I've seen a sub-par performance from him yet. He is one of the reasons I wanted to be on stage. To see if I could find the aspects of the character I was to become, and really make it believable. Maybe he got type-cast {{shakes head}} but that's not an excuse.
Matt Damon, now there's a poster boy. Stolid silence, fierce retorts and a killer smile to boot. I've read in articles that the smart aleck Will Hunting, is similar to the depths of Damon's true intelligence. I'd love to sit back and watch him talk through ideas with other strong minded people. I'd feel like a student watching Aristotle and Socrates discuss ...anything.
When Sean and Will have their second session I loved the inscription Sean gives about intimacy and ...Well if you haven't seen it I don't want to spoil it. And if you have seen it... you know.
Anywho, I very much recommend this movie. I learn something new about myself every time I watch this movie.
Good Will Hunting is definantly on my top ten list of movies, and I'm pretty sure if I watch all the movies ever made it will still be in the top ten percent.
Ben Affleck and Matt Damon are a great team of pals in this story of life with a touch of surreality. Robin Williams, let me just say, is awesome. Comedy, tragedy, drama, irony, you name it this guy can embody it. I don't think I've seen a sub-par performance from him yet. He is one of the reasons I wanted to be on stage. To see if I could find the aspects of the character I was to become, and really make it believable. Maybe he got type-cast {{shakes head}} but that's not an excuse.
Matt Damon, now there's a poster boy. Stolid silence, fierce retorts and a killer smile to boot. I've read in articles that the smart aleck Will Hunting, is similar to the depths of Damon's true intelligence. I'd love to sit back and watch him talk through ideas with other strong minded people. I'd feel like a student watching Aristotle and Socrates discuss ...anything.When Sean and Will have their second session I loved the inscription Sean gives about intimacy and ...Well if you haven't seen it I don't want to spoil it. And if you have seen it... you know.
Anywho, I very much recommend this movie. I learn something new about myself every time I watch this movie.
Tuesday, May 4
Do you remember?
I ment to re write this and post it EONS ago, so instead i'll just add to the end.
I wrote previously under the title "Where were you?" about people defining days through others experiences.
What I don't think I conveyed was my frustration with the appropriation of others emotions onto your own life. (I'll explain what I mean by that in a minute) I was saying that it frustrates me when people live their lives in the backseat of society. Some prefer to remember days only in relation to what is on their TV guide or favorite facebook page.
"appropriation"- the taking of something that belongs to or is associated with somebody else, especially without permission.
I lived outside of the USA in high-school. When the World Trade Center was hit by a plane on September 11th 2001, I was not in America to experience the confusion, terror, and other emotions that ran wild because of a massive terrorist attack. (no matter who you think did it or didn't do it, the reaction of the populace was mass terror, therefor it was an act of terrorism)
That didn't stop my class mates from asking me questions like: "Did you know anyone in the towers?" "Are you okay?"
Yes I was shocked. At first I thought it must be a prank like "War of the Worlds" in 1938. Everyone knew that Nothing attacks America. Even though most Hollywood apocalyptic movies are set in America, nothing happens on an epic scale.
I felt numb. I wanted to empathize for the people. I tried to imagine what i would do if i had known someone. But I have never experienced the gut-wrenching feeling of having someones life snuffed out without a warning.
I understand that people's emotions are valid and I empathize. But that doesn't mean that I take a day off work because "baby Diego dies" (Children of Men).
Remember Me.
I watched this movie with my sister, cousin, and a girl friend. We were having a girls movie night and were semi fans of the male lead.
It was a movie I'll watch again. Twice.
It's about loss and love and most important to me, family.
I got a hint of retrospection and insight while discussing the actors acting skills and lack of fashion sense in different scenes and "real life"
I recommend watching it. Netflik it if you can, Redbox it (while it's still out there). Don't watch previews about it, don't anticipate.
Watch it like you would watch something you want to enjoy but are slightly undereducated about. Think about how you can relate to the characters (not the actors). And then suspend your disbelief about the little world that is being created.
Plus the little girl is adorable! Reminds me of a young young young Jena Malone. (Stepmom). Or as my friend said, the twin sister of young Haley Joel Osment (circa A.I.).
I wrote previously under the title "Where were you?" about people defining days through others experiences.
What I don't think I conveyed was my frustration with the appropriation of others emotions onto your own life. (I'll explain what I mean by that in a minute) I was saying that it frustrates me when people live their lives in the backseat of society. Some prefer to remember days only in relation to what is on their TV guide or favorite facebook page.
"appropriation"- the taking of something that belongs to or is associated with somebody else, especially without permission.
I lived outside of the USA in high-school. When the World Trade Center was hit by a plane on September 11th 2001, I was not in America to experience the confusion, terror, and other emotions that ran wild because of a massive terrorist attack. (no matter who you think did it or didn't do it, the reaction of the populace was mass terror, therefor it was an act of terrorism)
That didn't stop my class mates from asking me questions like: "Did you know anyone in the towers?" "Are you okay?"
Yes I was shocked. At first I thought it must be a prank like "War of the Worlds" in 1938. Everyone knew that Nothing attacks America. Even though most Hollywood apocalyptic movies are set in America, nothing happens on an epic scale.
I felt numb. I wanted to empathize for the people. I tried to imagine what i would do if i had known someone. But I have never experienced the gut-wrenching feeling of having someones life snuffed out without a warning.
I understand that people's emotions are valid and I empathize. But that doesn't mean that I take a day off work because "baby Diego dies" (Children of Men).
Remember Me.
I watched this movie with my sister, cousin, and a girl friend. We were having a girls movie night and were semi fans of the male lead.
It was a movie I'll watch again. Twice.
It's about loss and love and most important to me, family.
I got a hint of retrospection and insight while discussing the actors acting skills and lack of fashion sense in different scenes and "real life"
I recommend watching it. Netflik it if you can, Redbox it (while it's still out there). Don't watch previews about it, don't anticipate.
Watch it like you would watch something you want to enjoy but are slightly undereducated about. Think about how you can relate to the characters (not the actors). And then suspend your disbelief about the little world that is being created.
Plus the little girl is adorable! Reminds me of a young young young Jena Malone. (Stepmom). Or as my friend said, the twin sister of young Haley Joel Osment (circa A.I.).
Monday, May 3
Means to an end
For my graduation, that might not be occurring, I invited the President. Not of my university, but of the United States of America.
If that won't give me the kick in the butt to actually do my work what could?
My father, god love him for putting up with me, says that these next few days are a "means to an end". The last time I heard that term it was people arguing over just war principles.
A means to an end. What end?
Not getting a degree. From this little college in the middle of nowhere. Ha!
Not for the right to walk across the stage. Although I will be beating my older brother at something academically for the first time since 7th grade. That end isn't a fulfillment of my goals, I didn't want to come to college in the first place. I've learned so few things from the books or classes I've had to sit through. I'd bet that of all my friends, I attended more classes in my four years than they might in their extended years.
Means to an end.
What do I get when I graduate?
I walk across the stage in-front of hundreds of people and join a small percentage of society that have degrees. The president of the university might actually remember me as one of the first two cadets to perform their officers oath at graduation (considering that we've been introduced more than 4 times in the last year, he should know my face at least).
I'll have my parents pride. I haven't heard the three words in a long time "You disappointed me".
I won't have to go back to classes. But I'm trading one routine for another, with my Army job waiting for me. One year from now I'll have a place of my own, most likely a car, a 30-50k salary, and more independence a 22year old probably should have.
And what do I have to do to get this?
What could possibly be keeping me from the new American Dream???
Homework; 5 papers, 3 exams, one presentation and the good favor of four professors, and assistant professors. Work that could have been done during the semester.
It's all my own doing.
I've been given the chance to succeed. If I fail, I can only blame myself.
Self depreciation and blame shifting won't change the fact that I'm scared out of my wits to have these "dreams come true". Why should I get what I want? Do I deserve it? Others have worked harder. Some of my peers do so much more, and with less help. Why do they get marginalized while I get center stage?
In my letter to the President, I told him that I welcome the chance and pray for the abilities necessary to be a leader in the Armed Forces. Don't I sound confident!?
That's not how I feel, sitting on my couch in my yoga outfit at 1am.
And flipping though my computer files I realize that:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” Marianne Williamson
If that won't give me the kick in the butt to actually do my work what could?
My father, god love him for putting up with me, says that these next few days are a "means to an end". The last time I heard that term it was people arguing over just war principles.
A means to an end. What end?
Not getting a degree. From this little college in the middle of nowhere. Ha!
Not for the right to walk across the stage. Although I will be beating my older brother at something academically for the first time since 7th grade. That end isn't a fulfillment of my goals, I didn't want to come to college in the first place. I've learned so few things from the books or classes I've had to sit through. I'd bet that of all my friends, I attended more classes in my four years than they might in their extended years.
Means to an end.
What do I get when I graduate?
I walk across the stage in-front of hundreds of people and join a small percentage of society that have degrees. The president of the university might actually remember me as one of the first two cadets to perform their officers oath at graduation (considering that we've been introduced more than 4 times in the last year, he should know my face at least).
I'll have my parents pride. I haven't heard the three words in a long time "You disappointed me".
I won't have to go back to classes. But I'm trading one routine for another, with my Army job waiting for me. One year from now I'll have a place of my own, most likely a car, a 30-50k salary, and more independence a 22year old probably should have.
And what do I have to do to get this?
What could possibly be keeping me from the new American Dream???
Homework; 5 papers, 3 exams, one presentation and the good favor of four professors, and assistant professors. Work that could have been done during the semester.
It's all my own doing.
I've been given the chance to succeed. If I fail, I can only blame myself.
Self depreciation and blame shifting won't change the fact that I'm scared out of my wits to have these "dreams come true". Why should I get what I want? Do I deserve it? Others have worked harder. Some of my peers do so much more, and with less help. Why do they get marginalized while I get center stage?
In my letter to the President, I told him that I welcome the chance and pray for the abilities necessary to be a leader in the Armed Forces. Don't I sound confident!?
That's not how I feel, sitting on my couch in my yoga outfit at 1am.
And flipping though my computer files I realize that:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” Marianne Williamson
Sunday, May 2
First movie
In theaters "The Lion King"
In Imax:
In 3D: Last Airbender
First "R": Lake Placid or the Matrix
First movie alone in Theater: Lilo & Stitch
First movie in subtitles I didn't realize i was reading the subtitles: The Passion of the Christ.
First movie I loved as much as the book: Narina, Lion Witch and the Wardrobe
First movie I made-out through and didn't watch the movie (it was crap anyway): Ghost Rider
hereHs a sampling of some movies you might have seen and a few you may not have heard of.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3hth9_rvfg&feature=related
In Imax:
In 3D: Last Airbender
First "R": Lake Placid or the Matrix
First movie alone in Theater: Lilo & Stitch
First movie in subtitles I didn't realize i was reading the subtitles: The Passion of the Christ.
First movie I loved as much as the book: Narina, Lion Witch and the Wardrobe
First movie I made-out through and didn't watch the movie (it was crap anyway): Ghost Rider
hereHs a sampling of some movies you might have seen and a few you may not have heard of.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3hth9_rvfg&feature=related
damion walters 2010
He's just awesome.
gotta love an athlete that knows how to use their body.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNvJy0zoXOY&feature=topvideos
gotta love an athlete that knows how to use their body.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNvJy0zoXOY&feature=topvideos
Tuesday, April 27
DPS Disney Princess Syndrome
"Just because they wear the tulle doesn’t mean they’ve drunk the Kool-Aid."
http://www.swancher.com/word/mcphee/
according to Jo Paoletti, an associate professor of American studies at the University of Maryland, it ain’t so. When colors were first introduced to the nursery in the early part of the 20th century, pink was considered the more masculine hue, a pastel version of red. Blue, with its intimations of the Virgin Mary, constancy and faithfulness, was thought to be dainty. Why or when that switched is not clear, but as late as the 1930s a significant percentage of adults in one national survey held to that split. Perhaps that’s why so many early Disney heroines — Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Wendy, Alice-in-Wonderland — are swathed in varying shades of azure. (Purple, incidentally, may be the next color to swap teams: once the realm of kings and N.F.L. players, it is fast becoming the bolder girl’s version of pink.)
Singer/ songwriter P!nk introduces a song "Stupid Girls" with a video that expresses the same worry, that females would be trapped in their minds and psyche of damsel in distress.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BR4yQFZK9YM
And yet, little girls all over the world, play with Barbie* and dress-up in mom's clothes and look at their worries parents. Smile happily. “But, Mommy?” they add. “When I grow up, I’m still going to be a fireman.”
http://www.swancher.com/word/mcphee/
according to Jo Paoletti, an associate professor of American studies at the University of Maryland, it ain’t so. When colors were first introduced to the nursery in the early part of the 20th century, pink was considered the more masculine hue, a pastel version of red. Blue, with its intimations of the Virgin Mary, constancy and faithfulness, was thought to be dainty. Why or when that switched is not clear, but as late as the 1930s a significant percentage of adults in one national survey held to that split. Perhaps that’s why so many early Disney heroines — Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Wendy, Alice-in-Wonderland — are swathed in varying shades of azure. (Purple, incidentally, may be the next color to swap teams: once the realm of kings and N.F.L. players, it is fast becoming the bolder girl’s version of pink.)
Singer/ songwriter P!nk introduces a song "Stupid Girls" with a video that expresses the same worry, that females would be trapped in their minds and psyche of damsel in distress.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BR4yQFZK9YM
And yet, little girls all over the world, play with Barbie* and dress-up in mom's clothes and look at their worries parents. Smile happily. “But, Mommy?” they add. “When I grow up, I’m still going to be a fireman.”
Wednesday, April 21
Ok Go
Watch this
This is the WONDERFULLY intuitive group OK GO.
I remember watching their first video (Treadmill) and just wanting to try it.
It's an example of Rube Goldberg; adjective defined as accomplishing something simple through complex means. Rube Goldberg was an American cartoonist born in 1883. In 1931 the Webster Dictionary added his namesake to their prestigious pages.
Wallace, the human from the clay made duo of Wallace and Gromit is an inventor o
f Rube Goldberg proportions.
Another example include the inventor and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang's protagonist, Caractacus Potts. some of his inventions include the Toot Sweet, the egg cooker, and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. A complicated machine for a car, but it does much more.
Interesting fact, I used to date a guy who's father bought the plans and made the only exact replica of the car Chitty.
This is the WONDERFULLY intuitive group OK GO.
I remember watching their first video (Treadmill) and just wanting to try it.
It's an example of Rube Goldberg; adjective defined as accomplishing something simple through complex means. Rube Goldberg was an American cartoonist born in 1883. In 1931 the Webster Dictionary added his namesake to their prestigious pages.
Wallace, the human from the clay made duo of Wallace and Gromit is an inventor o
f Rube Goldberg proportions.Another example include the inventor and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang's protagonist, Caractacus Potts. some of his inventions include the Toot Sweet, the egg cooker, and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. A complicated machine for a car, but it does much more.
Interesting fact, I used to date a guy who's father bought the plans and made the only exact replica of the car Chitty.
Sunday, April 18
Remember
When I get bogged down in homework or find that I should work all weekend to stay on track, I usually find myself watching movies from when I was younger.
Favorites include Hercules , and other animated classics.
I love sharing these memories with my sister, in fact we've got a trans continental movie date tomorrow to celebrate our youth gone away.
I watched Rikki-Tikki-Tavi and Rock-a-doodle last week.
Some of the memories I'm reliving this week include Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, Robin Hood , and my highschool fav Shakespeare in Love .
I hope you enjoyed my skip down memory lane.
Favorites include Hercules , and other animated classics.
I love sharing these memories with my sister, in fact we've got a trans continental movie date tomorrow to celebrate our youth gone away.
I watched Rikki-Tikki-Tavi and Rock-a-doodle last week.
Some of the memories I'm reliving this week include Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, Robin Hood , and my highschool fav Shakespeare in Love .
I hope you enjoyed my skip down memory lane.
Wednesday, April 7
Chaos and joy
I love riding the subway in a big city. I to read the signs and wait for the right train to pull up. Wait for swarms of people stream out of the cars. I'd either move to an area not occupied with sweaty armpitto balance as if on a surfboard, or calmly park myself in an open area and sit down. I'd cross my legs into a more comfortable position without kicking the shins of the people next to me. Everyone knows that eye contact is expressively forbidden in such a cramped environment. The next move would be a bag adjustment, move my purse from one 
shoulder to the next, take out my current novel and start reading through the dull subway ride.People walk by me, on and off the car and I notice colors; black ,navy blue a couple of greens and reds, browns, blue jeans and khakis, skirts and tights. The colors don't really inspire joy, especially in the winter. But the fashion is fun and sometimes I get a hint of creativity out of the drab garb.
Some girls just love to wear their short skirts and for a minute I think one is parked right behind my novel. A skirt so short it looks like she's got no pants.
A quick glance and I notice, Darling you should have shaved your legs...
A second glance... a guy in a skirt... ok, not too weird, gay rights and all. This is a big city.
I lift my eyes to see just what kind of skirt he's wearing, I am a girl after all, and then I realize... he's not wearing a skirt or pants... He's only in his underwear!
I look up from my book Mr Pantless is acting normal. Not smiling down at me in a suggestive way. He doesn't even look gay. I grab faces from the crowd looking for accomplices and notice the other naked legs in the subway car.
~~What did I get myself into?~~
Men, in boxers, briefs, banana-hammocks and thankfully
no thongs. Women in frilly knickers, boys boxers, girls boxers, again thankfully no thongs.Blues, Greens, Reds, Pinks, Yellow, Orange, White. Characters like Spiderman, Cookie Monster and sayings like Cabin Fever, make me laugh out loud. This is my kind of joke.The only question is...
Should I take my pants off?
This is a fictional story based on real events. For more information see Improv Everywhere
☺For a little more joy, check out (RAOK) Random Acts of Kindness with Danny Wallace and Join Me or Free Hugs
Tuesday, April 6
Dreams
There are a few words thrown around when talking about the future.
Dreams, wishes, goals, hopes, vision, ambition. Of these words there are a multitude of denotations and connotations within them.
I try to lean towards three words; dream, vision, and hope. I dream in ideals. My ideal house, husband, me, kids etc. I dream of a happy family in a safe place living next to kind neighbors and kids biking in the streets having fun.
My vision is the values I see important to my dreams. The way I can get my dream. Having money enough to give my kids a life that allows them to experience multiple aspects of life. (Travel, Study, Missions, Experience) I visualize myself on a visit to the Taj Mahal, a place of renowned beauty and elegance. My visualization is a mixture of hopes and ambition. My vision is of my on a porch swing with my husband, older and content with our selves.
My hopes include feelings and instinct. I hope that I will not break my leg walking to classes. I hope that I will live long enough to visit every continent. I hope that I will not loose my sight. I hope that aliens will not destroy the Taj Mahal in some freak hostile takeover bid, at least not until I've seen it first.
All in all I guess what I'm trying to say is, without a touch of realism, dreams will be nothing more than a damper on life. Who wants to go through life, checking off the To Do list every day, just waiting to fall asleep at night, to get to your dreams? Not me.
"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible."
- Thomas Edward Lawrence ("Lawrence of Arabia")
Dreams, wishes, goals, hopes, vision, ambition. Of these words there are a multitude of denotations and connotations within them.
I try to lean towards three words; dream, vision, and hope. I dream in ideals. My ideal house, husband, me, kids etc. I dream of a happy family in a safe place living next to kind neighbors and kids biking in the streets having fun.
My vision is the values I see important to my dreams. The way I can get my dream. Having money enough to give my kids a life that allows them to experience multiple aspects of life. (Travel, Study, Missions, Experience) I visualize myself on a visit to the Taj Mahal, a place of renowned beauty and elegance. My visualization is a mixture of hopes and ambition. My vision is of my on a porch swing with my husband, older and content with our selves.
My hopes include feelings and instinct. I hope that I will not break my leg walking to classes. I hope that I will live long enough to visit every continent. I hope that I will not loose my sight. I hope that aliens will not destroy the Taj Mahal in some freak hostile takeover bid, at least not until I've seen it first.
All in all I guess what I'm trying to say is, without a touch of realism, dreams will be nothing more than a damper on life. Who wants to go through life, checking off the To Do list every day, just waiting to fall asleep at night, to get to your dreams? Not me.
"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible."
- Thomas Edward Lawrence ("Lawrence of Arabia")
Tuesday, March 30
Pride
In the military.
their actions (a)
what are we fighting for(b)
America's Marines
nation, honor, courage, proud, defend, protect, marines
patriotism, discipline,
apple pie, girl next door
ideographs, words, definitions, meanings, thoughts.
Mulan
In my country
president, democracy, nation, states, buildings, jobs, produce, buy American
security (National Security)
In my beliefs
People want to be better, give what you can-when you can
Christianity, live like Christ
In myself
strength from within,
their actions (a)
what are we fighting for(b)
America's Marines
nation, honor, courage, proud, defend, protect, marines
patriotism, discipline,
apple pie, girl next door
ideographs, words, definitions, meanings, thoughts.
Mulan
In my country
president, democracy, nation, states, buildings, jobs, produce, buy American
security (National Security)
In my beliefs
People want to be better, give what you can-when you can
Christianity, live like Christ
In myself
strength from within,
Monday, March 22
OREO
Dear OREO (R),
As a long time customer I have an idea to present you from my tastebuds.
Lets give up on trying to market the Original OREO to the growing masses (yes double meaning). I propose a name change, switching Double Stuf OREO into "OREO" and turn the original OREO into "OREO Lite" (or something diet es).
First reason: The results from my polling show that 100% of customers polled, prefer Double Stuf to regular Oreo. Some will NOT BUY OREO's unless the store provides Double Stuf.
A second reason for this name change is, international markets. With international stores only selling the original flat Oreo's many foreign fans are left wishing for more. Change the name and the Lite will be the hard to find cookie not the other way around. Lets get'em hooked and coming back for more. Milk sales will also sky rocket, but who cares about them.
My third reason, shoppers may buy the OREO lite is for the health conscious eater. Some may buy just because it says LITE. Dieting shoppers may be drawn to a sweet treat with less ...whatever. The 100 Calorie Packs were a good idea, but what about a snack you can buy in bulk (but is also a good cookie) to market to bulk buyers, or party makers, as well as previous customers who love the habit of twist lick and dip.
Thank you for your attention to this suggestion "out side of the box".
:)
My only Con comment comes from neurosciencemarketing.com
Does the market really need 16 flavors of Goldfish crackers, including “Blazin’ Buffalo Wing Flavor Blasted Goldfish... 46 Kinds of Oreos – Including Purple?"
Wednesday, March 17
Learning something new
If I could learn one language, it would be Latin.
If only to sing songs like THIS.
If only to sing songs like THIS.
| Carl Orff's | O Fortune, |
| like the moon you are changeable | ever waxing and waning |
| since Fate strikes down the strong man | everybody weep with me. |
Monday, March 8
Drunk Driving
Here is an example of a PSA.
and here is my advertising groups idea:
Setting: A bar.
Characters: Two friends , a girl, background people.
Actions: Two guys talking hanging out, notice the girl across the bar.
Marcus: I'm gonna go buy her a drink.
Allen: Go for it.
Marcus talks to Sarah. He buys her a drink. They hangout, keep drinking and dancing. Allen leaves with a wave.
At the end of the night, Marcus and Sarah get into Marcus' car. They drive off smoothly.
Close up of Marcus face.
"Allen, remember the girl last night at the bar. We stayed out after the bars closed and stopped at that pizza place. Turns out she's a Sigma. I told her I'd give her a ride home.
[Slow pan out, see him sitting in a chair]
I wasn't that buzzed, I've driven with more.
Her name was Sarah.
[show newspaper cutout: Obituary, Sarah- 23 died passenger in car crash.]
{pan out wrecked car behind him, his leg in a small brace.]
[Black out]
Bottom run script:: YOU DON'T NEED A STATISTIC TO KNOW IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU.
For more information go to MADD.ORG.
and here is my advertising groups idea:
Setting: A bar.
Characters: Two friends , a girl, background people.
Actions: Two guys talking hanging out, notice the girl across the bar.
Marcus: I'm gonna go buy her a drink.
Allen: Go for it.
Marcus talks to Sarah. He buys her a drink. They hangout, keep drinking and dancing. Allen leaves with a wave.
At the end of the night, Marcus and Sarah get into Marcus' car. They drive off smoothly.
Close up of Marcus face.
"Allen, remember the girl last night at the bar. We stayed out after the bars closed and stopped at that pizza place. Turns out she's a Sigma. I told her I'd give her a ride home.
[Slow pan out, see him sitting in a chair]
I wasn't that buzzed, I've driven with more.
Her name was Sarah.
[show newspaper cutout: Obituary, Sarah- 23 died passenger in car crash.]
{pan out wrecked car behind him, his leg in a small brace.]
[Black out]
Bottom run script:: YOU DON'T NEED A STATISTIC TO KNOW IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU.
For more information go to MADD.ORG.
Relationships
My first boyfriend was Peter. He was the first boy to ask me out and my first kiss.
We broke up over text.
It was a fun two weeks.
I've had a few beaux since Peter. But this little video I found ( i did not create it) helps explain how I feel about dating.
The emotions, the actions, the hype. When all that's needed is two people to "Come together" as the Beatles say.
These are my past love songs:
1: The way I am - Ingrid Michaelson
2: Amazing Love (You are my King) 3: The Call - Regina Spektor
4: Come Together- Beatles
5: Here in your Arms - Hello Goodbye
6: Hands down - Dashboard Confessional
7: Infatuation - Christina Aguilera
8: Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton
9: Hot n Cold - Katy Perry
10: Something There - Beauty and the Beast
And here is a wonderful little philosophy provided by Indexed
We broke up over text.
It was a fun two weeks.
I've had a few beaux since Peter. But this little video I found ( i did not create it) helps explain how I feel about dating.
The emotions, the actions, the hype. When all that's needed is two people to "Come together" as the Beatles say.
These are my past love songs:
1: The way I am - Ingrid Michaelson
2: Amazing Love (You are my King) 3: The Call - Regina Spektor
4: Come Together- Beatles
5: Here in your Arms - Hello Goodbye
6: Hands down - Dashboard Confessional
7: Infatuation - Christina Aguilera
8: Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton
9: Hot n Cold - Katy Perry
10: Something There - Beauty and the Beast
And here is a wonderful little philosophy provided by Indexed
Wednesday, March 3
Ah Technology
I used to have to worry about writing appointments and assignments down. What notebook, or Calendar I'd jotted the brief memorandum. I've sat on , washed and forgotten many PDA's in the last 7 years.
But now i get to attempt not only which Computer I placed my reminder, but also what Name I saved it under. Folders, flashdrive/ USB, and program.
Where oh where could my little assignment be?
Did I email it to my work account, my personal account, or my junk email account?
Is it posted on the internet?
Forget simplifying with better technology. If you don't know how to use it. It's just a very expensive paperweight.
But now i get to attempt not only which Computer I placed my reminder, but also what Name I saved it under. Folders, flashdrive/ USB, and program.
Where oh where could my little assignment be?
Did I email it to my work account, my personal account, or my junk email account?
Is it posted on the internet?
Forget simplifying with better technology. If you don't know how to use it. It's just a very expensive paperweight.
Tuesday, February 16
Holidays
This Valentine's day I got a sweet half made half bought card from a friend of mine. It said:
and then on the inside there was this picture and the words:
He also found me some of my favorite chocolate. MARS bars!! Yum.
But my second gift I received on Sunday, was delivered to me while I slept. Someone busted out my window in my living room. Normally this would be an easy fix, but with 3 inches of snow and a sick landlord, It's covered in plastic and sleeping under every blanket I own. Some joyful day.
I remember Valentines Days when in grade school we'd spend the better part of a week creating shoebox mailboxes for our individual desks. Each person in the class would decorate their box in whatever festive motif they desired as long as there was a slit on the top to place valentines through. We'd each give a valentine to everyone else in the class, or at least everyone who wasn't a glue-sniffing-booger-eater with cooties.That style of expected giving, threw me off Valentines Day for a while. Until my senior year of highschool.
My First time I bought someone flowers.
I decided to use the extra money I had saved up from January and buy my friends and others Roses for Valentines Day. I gave up my lunch hour to go into town and peruse the flower shops for my roses. I bought 3 long-long stem deep red roses, (one for each of my "loves"). I bought a dozen red roses, a dozen yellow roses, a dozen pink roses and two dozen white roses. These I passed out to my friends who I love, people I like and some times those who just looked like they needed the comfort of a beautiful flower from someone who cared. I got a HUGE HIGH from this giving. Not only did I get to break a few traditions about guys only giving girls flowers, but I'd like to think that I may have changed a few people's mind about Valentines Day.
I believe that while showing love through spending money can lead the motivation behind giving gifts. (the bigger/ more expensive the gift the more Love) I think that Valentines Day is a day where people can show, unashamedly kindness to those around them. It's a day when it's okay for mean and women alike to say... I love you.
And I've often taken to buying flowers for people. Sometimes on whim (I'll drive past a florist) maybe it's because they need to be cheered up from something (death, a bad breakup). I even buy them for myself. To brighten up my home, or because it's such a shame that on a shelf in a shop, they will only be thrown out, and not sniffed, and watered and treasured for being a wonderful creation of beauty.
I believe that many things, TRADITIONS, Holidays, Words, Actions...have lost their value and meaning. Here's a little parody of what Valentines Day could mean. After all, it was so long ago...Who really knows. And more to the point. If something has meaning for you (giving a gift) why worry about the meaning it could have had 200 years ago, when you and she/he knows what it means for the two of you.
Who's Awesome
ashley?
You Are
and then on the inside there was this picture and the words:
To the most beautiful, caring, courageous, wonderful woman I know. Happy Valentines day.
He also found me some of my favorite chocolate. MARS bars!! Yum.
But my second gift I received on Sunday, was delivered to me while I slept. Someone busted out my window in my living room. Normally this would be an easy fix, but with 3 inches of snow and a sick landlord, It's covered in plastic and sleeping under every blanket I own. Some joyful day.
I remember Valentines Days when in grade school we'd spend the better part of a week creating shoebox mailboxes for our individual desks. Each person in the class would decorate their box in whatever festive motif they desired as long as there was a slit on the top to place valentines through. We'd each give a valentine to everyone else in the class, or at least everyone who wasn't a glue-sniffing-booger-eater with cooties.That style of expected giving, threw me off Valentines Day for a while. Until my senior year of highschool.
My First time I bought someone flowers.
I decided to use the extra money I had saved up from January and buy my friends and others Roses for Valentines Day. I gave up my lunch hour to go into town and peruse the flower shops for my roses. I bought 3 long-long stem deep red roses, (one for each of my "loves"). I bought a dozen red roses, a dozen yellow roses, a dozen pink roses and two dozen white roses. These I passed out to my friends who I love, people I like and some times those who just looked like they needed the comfort of a beautiful flower from someone who cared. I got a HUGE HIGH from this giving. Not only did I get to break a few traditions about guys only giving girls flowers, but I'd like to think that I may have changed a few people's mind about Valentines Day.
I believe that while showing love through spending money can lead the motivation behind giving gifts. (the bigger/ more expensive the gift the more Love) I think that Valentines Day is a day where people can show, unashamedly kindness to those around them. It's a day when it's okay for mean and women alike to say... I love you.
And I've often taken to buying flowers for people. Sometimes on whim (I'll drive past a florist) maybe it's because they need to be cheered up from something (death, a bad breakup). I even buy them for myself. To brighten up my home, or because it's such a shame that on a shelf in a shop, they will only be thrown out, and not sniffed, and watered and treasured for being a wonderful creation of beauty.
I believe that many things, TRADITIONS, Holidays, Words, Actions...have lost their value and meaning. Here's a little parody of what Valentines Day could mean. After all, it was so long ago...Who really knows. And more to the point. If something has meaning for you (giving a gift) why worry about the meaning it could have had 200 years ago, when you and she/he knows what it means for the two of you.
Saturday, February 6
Good Morning
Wak'ie Wak'ie Eggs and Bac'ie!
Wake up wake up there is eggs and bacon for breakfast.
Wake up wake up there is eggs and bacon for breakfast.
Wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up to a plate full of delicious food every morning, without having to spend 20-45 minutes heating up the stove, mixing the ingredients and scraping off the fat to consume it? Not to mention the dishes left over.
I've heard this saying more than a few times, Wake-y Wake-y, Eggs and Bac-y. But with my spelling this version has a new meaning and a similar one. Waki waki eggs n baci...New meaning: Baci means (Italian) kiss. A treasured thought of mine, is to wake up to being kissed by someone who loves me.
Damn Disney if you must, but my thoughts of being awakened this way also stem from more than childhood fantasy. Forget the more than realistic fact that his breath will be morning rich with last nights meal and the evening's drool. I'd still prefer to open my eyes for the FIRST time each day, with him in my field of view.
Even with my love of food, breakfast would be a second thought. And thus the second meaning: similar to the first image of food right in front of you. There would be a feast. Our eyes on each other. This hunger for love diminishes others.
Friday, February 5
Just when I think I'm out...
They pull me back in.
I've sat down to many a task. Papers, proposals, speeches and then some. I'll divest hours of time into projects I want to succeed. My final project here is to graduate. After four years, three advisers, switching majors, a Division I sport, sketch comedy group, a semi-professional musical, Army ROTC and no social life, I felt that the last spring of my degree would be a breeze. (haha pun!)
I was hopeful, the first few weeks I was greeted in each of my classes by interesting teachers who wanted to have as much fun in the class with the students as the information they were to teach. I sat back and started to enjoy my last first day of school.
Now, three weeks after the last day to add a class, I receive a call from my major department. The conversation goes something like this...them:"You are three credits short on your graduation requirements, and will not be graduating on time. Please come to our office or fill out the necessary forms online to switch your graduation to the Fall." Me: "But I followed the instructions from my adviser and I've been taking 15 credit hours minimum each semester." Them: "Keep us informed of your plan, you can walk in the spring but you won't graduate without the requirement. It cannot be waived."
WHAT!!!!!!!!
You are a language requirement short. But that can't be I took French and German in high school.
We don't have your transcripts on file here. Maybe we have them on paper somewhere, but instead of looking for them, we'll just pull your file and tell you that you can't graduate yet. Pay us more money first and then maybe we'll consider it.
Oh and by the way the 20 hrs of Theater classes you took don't count for a Arts and Humanities GenEd credits. So you owe us another class.
And you didn't have enough credits taking right now to graduate with 120, so if you CLEP out of the language you will still have to take 3 hrs to have 120 total.
But I'm taking 18 right now? and the last day to add classes was last week.
Keep us updated with your plan to graduate.
Skrew you.
Hey Adviser, can I see the file you've had for four years. Do you think that you have my transcripts in there?
OOh look there they are, notified and sent from my high school. Oh look there's my two years of German with a minimum grade of a C. Weird. Lets walk that over to the Records office. dee-de-dee
Here you go Ms lady-in-an-office who is controlling my future vicariously through paperwork that someone is trying to default. Yes I know that the papers are in my hand now and so it would suggest that it could be changed. However, for four years it has been in my advisers folder in a locked cabinet and here is a note she wrote (please call to verify) that it is authentic. If you wont accept it than at least copy it and put in on record so that I don't have to inform my school that a University has lost information that a high school can keep track of.
Oh and by the way, thank you for calling me my last semester here and asking me if I had a plan when for FOUR years I've been paying you over $3,000 a semester to do one thing. Give me a bachelors degree.
But I'll forgive you. When I'm walking across that stage, with my blank folder. And I receive my diploma in the mail. I'll make a copy and send it to you, that way we'll both have it on record.
I've sat down to many a task. Papers, proposals, speeches and then some. I'll divest hours of time into projects I want to succeed. My final project here is to graduate. After four years, three advisers, switching majors, a Division I sport, sketch comedy group, a semi-professional musical, Army ROTC and no social life, I felt that the last spring of my degree would be a breeze. (haha pun!)
I was hopeful, the first few weeks I was greeted in each of my classes by interesting teachers who wanted to have as much fun in the class with the students as the information they were to teach. I sat back and started to enjoy my last first day of school.
Now, three weeks after the last day to add a class, I receive a call from my major department. The conversation goes something like this...them:"You are three credits short on your graduation requirements, and will not be graduating on time. Please come to our office or fill out the necessary forms online to switch your graduation to the Fall." Me: "But I followed the instructions from my adviser and I've been taking 15 credit hours minimum each semester." Them: "Keep us informed of your plan, you can walk in the spring but you won't graduate without the requirement. It cannot be waived."
WHAT!!!!!!!!
You are a language requirement short. But that can't be I took French and German in high school.
We don't have your transcripts on file here. Maybe we have them on paper somewhere, but instead of looking for them, we'll just pull your file and tell you that you can't graduate yet. Pay us more money first and then maybe we'll consider it.
Oh and by the way the 20 hrs of Theater classes you took don't count for a Arts and Humanities GenEd credits. So you owe us another class.
And you didn't have enough credits taking right now to graduate with 120, so if you CLEP out of the language you will still have to take 3 hrs to have 120 total.
But I'm taking 18 right now? and the last day to add classes was last week.
Keep us updated with your plan to graduate.
Skrew you.
Hey Adviser, can I see the file you've had for four years. Do you think that you have my transcripts in there?
OOh look there they are, notified and sent from my high school. Oh look there's my two years of German with a minimum grade of a C. Weird. Lets walk that over to the Records office. dee-de-dee
Here you go Ms lady-in-an-office who is controlling my future vicariously through paperwork that someone is trying to default. Yes I know that the papers are in my hand now and so it would suggest that it could be changed. However, for four years it has been in my advisers folder in a locked cabinet and here is a note she wrote (please call to verify) that it is authentic. If you wont accept it than at least copy it and put in on record so that I don't have to inform my school that a University has lost information that a high school can keep track of.
Oh and by the way, thank you for calling me my last semester here and asking me if I had a plan when for FOUR years I've been paying you over $3,000 a semester to do one thing. Give me a bachelors degree.
But I'll forgive you. When I'm walking across that stage, with my blank folder. And I receive my diploma in the mail. I'll make a copy and send it to you, that way we'll both have it on record.
Thursday, February 4
Share the love not the Grade
Share your cookies at recess.
Play nice with the other kids.
If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.
This attitude has morphed the development of my generation. Extra credit and bell curves have also added more space between action and responsibility.
If you think this is only a product of lower education schooling, check that idea at the door. Extra credit and group projects, with one grade for all individuals involved are a staple of higher learning classes.
While it's true that not all Universities use them, my particular one does.
Why should someone who doesn't do work get a better grade than the effort they produce. Why should a excellent worker suffer for the joint work another has failed to produce?
I'll tell you why, because that's how it works in the real work place. If you are a part of a board or committee that head a project. No matter the part you play, if your name is on the cover of the business plan, you are responsible for every part of that plan. If one part is messed up, and you still signed your name to it than WELCOME to the responsibility of your actions.
The problem I'm suggesting is not the group projects in idea, but the lack of motivation people in the groups give them.
Play nice with the other kids.
If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.
This attitude has morphed the development of my generation. Extra credit and bell curves have also added more space between action and responsibility.
If you think this is only a product of lower education schooling, check that idea at the door. Extra credit and group projects, with one grade for all individuals involved are a staple of higher learning classes.
While it's true that not all Universities use them, my particular one does.
Why should someone who doesn't do work get a better grade than the effort they produce. Why should a excellent worker suffer for the joint work another has failed to produce?
I'll tell you why, because that's how it works in the real work place. If you are a part of a board or committee that head a project. No matter the part you play, if your name is on the cover of the business plan, you are responsible for every part of that plan. If one part is messed up, and you still signed your name to it than WELCOME to the responsibility of your actions.
The problem I'm suggesting is not the group projects in idea, but the lack of motivation people in the groups give them.
Tuesday, February 2
Where were you?
These questions plague me.
Where were you when you heard the news... about the Oklahoma City Bombing ?
Where were you when Cassie Burnall was shot for saying she believed in God?
Where were you when the World Trade Center was hit?
One is just a paper I have to write for class.
Two, a song i sang in school for a talent show.
Last, I was being picked up from school by my friends' mom. I thought she must be joking.
Where were you?
Our lives are defined but what we do, but WHEN is decided by society. I don't remember these days because of something that someone else did, something else happened to someone else. I was just living my life. Or was I?
I honestly can't remember the FIRST time I realized that life should be treasured and lived REALLY LIVED each and every day to the fullest. But i remember the last.
I watched the movie Seven Pounds. I can't describe the way i felt because it was too personal to express. It had emotions and thoughts, memories both good and bad wrapped up in moral obligations, social expectations and unexpected events.
I just know that i don't want to have to wait for something to happen to me, I don't want to be another Where were you when...
I'm not going to let my best memories rely in what, when and who society says I must care.
My FIRST memory to treasure this year will not be " Did you see when ...." But instead will be "I did something"
Where were you when you heard the news... about the Oklahoma City Bombing ?
Where were you when Cassie Burnall was shot for saying she believed in God?
Where were you when the World Trade Center was hit?
One is just a paper I have to write for class.
Two, a song i sang in school for a talent show.
Last, I was being picked up from school by my friends' mom. I thought she must be joking.
Where were you?
Our lives are defined but what we do, but WHEN is decided by society. I don't remember these days because of something that someone else did, something else happened to someone else. I was just living my life. Or was I?
I honestly can't remember the FIRST time I realized that life should be treasured and lived REALLY LIVED each and every day to the fullest. But i remember the last.
I watched the movie Seven Pounds. I can't describe the way i felt because it was too personal to express. It had emotions and thoughts, memories both good and bad wrapped up in moral obligations, social expectations and unexpected events.
I just know that i don't want to have to wait for something to happen to me, I don't want to be another Where were you when...
I'm not going to let my best memories rely in what, when and who society says I must care.
My FIRST memory to treasure this year will not be " Did you see when ...." But instead will be "I did something"
Sunday, January 31
a"R"ithmatic
Lets take a walk away from the FUN firsts and into some serious ones.
The first time I moved out of my parents house. FREEDOM, Freedom, freedom! As a college freshman I was excited to be over 5 hours away from home, and without a direct line of transportation back home, my father couldn't jump into my socializing. The problems with my dorm room soon became apparent.
My first roommate that wasn't my sister, was a single child from a rich family. The best way to describe our relationship would have to be through Galinda and Elphaba's song What is this feeling?
While in my home away from home I learned how to do dishes in the bathroom sink, and another college staple coin laundry. For a scholarship student I didn't have to budget much towards tuition and fees.
That began the budgeting trend of my college era. First I'd have to save approximately $5 for laundry each week and then I moved up to food bills when I transferred out off of a food plan.
My next first was an Apartment. I still had a roommate but this time I made the mistake of choosing a friend. We had great time hanging out the only problem was where could we go to get away from eachother?
Filing taxes,
keeping budget,
paying bills,
Quicken...not fun
I left the fun world of calculus and algebra for a new kind of math. I leave simple problems where 2+2=4 and now find myself in a world where $500 a month has to stretch to $800 of bills.
I've gathered many budgeting tips from numerous sources including Quicken (I despise Quicken) to a book entitled "Budgeting made easy".
I've planned budget after budget, allotting money for savings too. But what do i get? a bigger paycheck and an empty bank account.
The first time I moved out of my parents house. FREEDOM, Freedom, freedom! As a college freshman I was excited to be over 5 hours away from home, and without a direct line of transportation back home, my father couldn't jump into my socializing. The problems with my dorm room soon became apparent.
My first roommate that wasn't my sister, was a single child from a rich family. The best way to describe our relationship would have to be through Galinda and Elphaba's song What is this feeling?
While in my home away from home I learned how to do dishes in the bathroom sink, and another college staple coin laundry. For a scholarship student I didn't have to budget much towards tuition and fees.
That began the budgeting trend of my college era. First I'd have to save approximately $5 for laundry each week and then I moved up to food bills when I transferred out off of a food plan.
My next first was an Apartment. I still had a roommate but this time I made the mistake of choosing a friend. We had great time hanging out the only problem was where could we go to get away from eachother?
Filing taxes,
keeping budget,
paying bills,
Quicken...not fun
I left the fun world of calculus and algebra for a new kind of math. I leave simple problems where 2+2=4 and now find myself in a world where $500 a month has to stretch to $800 of bills.
I've gathered many budgeting tips from numerous sources including Quicken (I despise Quicken) to a book entitled "Budgeting made easy".
I've planned budget after budget, allotting money for savings too. But what do i get? a bigger paycheck and an empty bank account.
Writing
1st time I completed my New Years Resolutions.
2009 was a good year for me. And it began with a journal and a resolution.
I’ve kept journals for many years. I believe my first was when I was 13. I had just moved and wanted to keep a chronicle of my adventures, like Harriet the Spy. I had seen that movie and adored her solitary lifestyle, apart and above the notice of “normal humans” so much so that she had a novel AND a movie made about her.
I knew that Harriet wasn’t a real person. My mother had me watching documentaries when I was younger. I knew that real life was not as exciting as my books.
But I thought that since the move, my life had graduated from normal to “exciting”. And so I decided to write down EVERYTHING. Otherwise I wouldn’t know what was special. Plus who knows what some one reading it in a few years would think.
My first diary was a pink booklet with a cheap lock any pin could open. And my second was a composition book just like Harriet’s.
The school I attended provided notebooks for each of our lessons. They had the school emblem and a space for our name and class and teacher. I loved these books. I collected stole(borrow long term), extra notebooks each semester even if I didn’t need them, for I could have them after I left the school. This love of notebooks, blended with the realization that my first diary lock was not suitable, led to my almost kleptomaniac behavior.
My first collection probably stems from the notebook hording I did in my earlier education. (but that's a different story for a different post).
I kept a small composition notebook (about 3"x3"). I'd write anything that happened or anything that I thought or felt. As my teachers had told me, the best way to write something is just to sit and write. I's write little quizzes that I'd make up. "What is your favorite color? What would be your dream job? What size shoe do you wear?" I'd quiz the guys and girls and compare the answers. Sometimes I'd poll people for someone else who was too shy to ask. All this information would go in my Little Black Book.
After writing in it for a semester or so, one of the guys in my homeroom, got a hold of it. Needless to say "true" thoughts aren't the balm people think truth may be. I don't like writing things that aren't true. If can't believe in it myself, (misguided emotional though it may be) than I can't write it.
And so for the words of my mock-up web design i went to Fillertext.com. A wonderful little website with made up words ripe for the taking.
My small secret i'd like to share is this, write a little, note, or letter to yourself. Give it to someone organized or that you trust, and have them mail it to you in one year from the day you wrote it.
Write in it, your hopes, dreams and expectations for yourself. Write your sorrows and joys. Fill it with confetti of memories and a small spray of your favorite scent. So that when you open it, you can remember.
2009 was a good year for me. And it began with a journal and a resolution.
I’ve kept journals for many years. I believe my first was when I was 13. I had just moved and wanted to keep a chronicle of my adventures, like Harriet the Spy. I had seen that movie and adored her solitary lifestyle, apart and above the notice of “normal humans” so much so that she had a novel AND a movie made about her.
I knew that Harriet wasn’t a real person. My mother had me watching documentaries when I was younger. I knew that real life was not as exciting as my books.
But I thought that since the move, my life had graduated from normal to “exciting”. And so I decided to write down EVERYTHING. Otherwise I wouldn’t know what was special. Plus who knows what some one reading it in a few years would think.
My first diary was a pink booklet with a cheap lock any pin could open. And my second was a composition book just like Harriet’s.
The school I attended provided notebooks for each of our lessons. They had the school emblem and a space for our name and class and teacher. I loved these books. I collected stole(borrow long term), extra notebooks each semester even if I didn’t need them, for I could have them after I left the school. This love of notebooks, blended with the realization that my first diary lock was not suitable, led to my almost kleptomaniac behavior.
My first collection probably stems from the notebook hording I did in my earlier education. (but that's a different story for a different post).
I kept a small composition notebook (about 3"x3"). I'd write anything that happened or anything that I thought or felt. As my teachers had told me, the best way to write something is just to sit and write. I's write little quizzes that I'd make up. "What is your favorite color? What would be your dream job? What size shoe do you wear?" I'd quiz the guys and girls and compare the answers. Sometimes I'd poll people for someone else who was too shy to ask. All this information would go in my Little Black Book.
After writing in it for a semester or so, one of the guys in my homeroom, got a hold of it. Needless to say "true" thoughts aren't the balm people think truth may be. I don't like writing things that aren't true. If can't believe in it myself, (misguided emotional though it may be) than I can't write it.
And so for the words of my mock-up web design i went to Fillertext.com. A wonderful little website with made up words ripe for the taking.
My small secret i'd like to share is this, write a little, note, or letter to yourself. Give it to someone organized or that you trust, and have them mail it to you in one year from the day you wrote it.
Write in it, your hopes, dreams and expectations for yourself. Write your sorrows and joys. Fill it with confetti of memories and a small spray of your favorite scent. So that when you open it, you can remember.
Reading
This semester I've learned to read my books for class. And before class too. Usually I cannot be pried away from one novel or another. My favorite genres have evolved from Fantasy (Piers Anthony, Murder Mystery (PJ Tracy, Jeffery Deaver) Sci-Fi (Orson Scott Card, Star Wars) and even military biographies (H. Norman Schwarzkopf). I can easily read three books a weeks. But it wasn't always this way.
A trilling whine resonated through the house. I HATE READING
My parents must have heard this from my mouth a thousand times. Learning to read and Phonics (c) were not my friend. I must have been a Sophist in a past life. I love to argue that words written down could not possibly be correct or as important as words spoken. Frustrated parents, as they are wont, skipped over the long and difficult road of "TEACH ME TO READ" with beginners’ books and started looking for books that would interest me. They finally succeeded with Maniac Magee. The story of a young boy who runs ON train tracks and sleeps with Yaks (the furry four legged kind) and can untie any knot, but is allergic to pizza. I didn’t have very much in common in a traditional sense, with a boy who lives on his own and is allergic to pizza. But emotionally and in my fantasies I had no trouble viewing myself as the protagonist.
Johnny Hangtime was the next book I remember, and still treasure. This story is based on the exciting life of a young stunt double. What kid wouldn't want to get paid to jump off things and roll down stairs!! Concrete stairs are more pay than carpeted stairs.
These characters spoke to me in ways that boring Reading List books couldn't. They were about boys {I'm obviously a girl now, but my father raised me to be active in a way not specific to a gender} who tried to live outside limits. Always pushing themselves. With Magee, he pushed cultural and social limits of the neighborhood he discovered, and he has a friend with the same nickname as my favorite candy bar. Johnny lives the double life, a normal bullied kid, but secretly he has a perfect secret. I could relate to living differently than the kids down the block.
Once I got an interest it was easy to keep me hooked when my parents took me to an awesome book store. Books-a-Million was wonderful. They had a train built of wood with a small TV and it ran kids movies like Veggietales or Loony Tunes. I remember the day I found out that I could pries the cubbyhole open and change the VHS inside. But there were also rows of seats where you could take a book off the shelves and read them. It was great! Not as boring as a library or as strict and I could take a break and play with the toy sets or try to find a book about lions with my sister. The books are arranged in easy to find sections. All the kids books are in one place. And the best part is... after an hour you can read another one.
If you want to get a kid interested in reading, find something they like in a toy or a characteristic they portray, and then a book with about it. That is what my GrandPa did, he made a book (fill-in-name) story. My brothers’ was about sports and mine was about Beckey's Ark (not Noah).
Around puberty I must have realized that as a girl I was different than the boys I enjoyed reading about. This change also coincided with a move overseas. So I tried a new genre. Royal Diaries. My first was about Nzinga the Warrior Queen of Matamba in 1624. A young woman who wants her father to notice her.
My favorites include Mary Queen of Scots, Eleanor of France, Cleopatra VII, Anastasia of Russia, and Marie Antoinette.
Though based on real events, I realized that these were fiction. I enjoyed the sense of realism in the voice of these young girls growing into power and dealing with their trials, it gave me a hope for my own life. I believed that if Marie Antoinette can survive being married at 14 to a man she doesn’t know I could survive HighSchool.
Once I outgrew the age group 13-16 it was easy to find my next step in imaginative fiction. Piers Anthony, Philip Pullman, and I capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. Now that I understand the different layers in reality exist I could learn things using fictional settings and information in novels. Books are no longer burdens to live through. They are a doorway, a highway to possibilities and opinions that I cannot experience myself. I’ll never be a 15 year old boy living on my own. But I can empathize a bit more with my younger cousins. I can even get them hooked on one or two of my favorites.
After a few years I now read 700 page novels quite easily, in a day or two. I'm reading autobiographies, war stories, historical documents, and non-fiction stories for fun. I’m even enjoying reading my books for university classes. Who knows what I may learn next. My favorite books will be from my childhood.
And I still cannot pronounce words correctly.
A trilling whine resonated through the house. I HATE READING
My parents must have heard this from my mouth a thousand times. Learning to read and Phonics (c) were not my friend. I must have been a Sophist in a past life. I love to argue that words written down could not possibly be correct or as important as words spoken. Frustrated parents, as they are wont, skipped over the long and difficult road of "TEACH ME TO READ" with beginners’ books and started looking for books that would interest me. They finally succeeded with Maniac Magee. The story of a young boy who runs ON train tracks and sleeps with Yaks (the furry four legged kind) and can untie any knot, but is allergic to pizza. I didn’t have very much in common in a traditional sense, with a boy who lives on his own and is allergic to pizza. But emotionally and in my fantasies I had no trouble viewing myself as the protagonist.
Johnny Hangtime was the next book I remember, and still treasure. This story is based on the exciting life of a young stunt double. What kid wouldn't want to get paid to jump off things and roll down stairs!! Concrete stairs are more pay than carpeted stairs.
These characters spoke to me in ways that boring Reading List books couldn't. They were about boys {I'm obviously a girl now, but my father raised me to be active in a way not specific to a gender} who tried to live outside limits. Always pushing themselves. With Magee, he pushed cultural and social limits of the neighborhood he discovered, and he has a friend with the same nickname as my favorite candy bar. Johnny lives the double life, a normal bullied kid, but secretly he has a perfect secret. I could relate to living differently than the kids down the block.
Once I got an interest it was easy to keep me hooked when my parents took me to an awesome book store. Books-a-Million was wonderful. They had a train built of wood with a small TV and it ran kids movies like Veggietales or Loony Tunes. I remember the day I found out that I could pries the cubbyhole open and change the VHS inside. But there were also rows of seats where you could take a book off the shelves and read them. It was great! Not as boring as a library or as strict and I could take a break and play with the toy sets or try to find a book about lions with my sister. The books are arranged in easy to find sections. All the kids books are in one place. And the best part is... after an hour you can read another one.
If you want to get a kid interested in reading, find something they like in a toy or a characteristic they portray, and then a book with about it. That is what my GrandPa did, he made a book (fill-in-name) story. My brothers’ was about sports and mine was about Beckey's Ark (not Noah).
Around puberty I must have realized that as a girl I was different than the boys I enjoyed reading about. This change also coincided with a move overseas. So I tried a new genre. Royal Diaries. My first was about Nzinga the Warrior Queen of Matamba in 1624. A young woman who wants her father to notice her.
My favorites include Mary Queen of Scots, Eleanor of France, Cleopatra VII, Anastasia of Russia, and Marie Antoinette.
Though based on real events, I realized that these were fiction. I enjoyed the sense of realism in the voice of these young girls growing into power and dealing with their trials, it gave me a hope for my own life. I believed that if Marie Antoinette can survive being married at 14 to a man she doesn’t know I could survive HighSchool.
Once I outgrew the age group 13-16 it was easy to find my next step in imaginative fiction. Piers Anthony, Philip Pullman, and I capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. Now that I understand the different layers in reality exist I could learn things using fictional settings and information in novels. Books are no longer burdens to live through. They are a doorway, a highway to possibilities and opinions that I cannot experience myself. I’ll never be a 15 year old boy living on my own. But I can empathize a bit more with my younger cousins. I can even get them hooked on one or two of my favorites.
After a few years I now read 700 page novels quite easily, in a day or two. I'm reading autobiographies, war stories, historical documents, and non-fiction stories for fun. I’m even enjoying reading my books for university classes. Who knows what I may learn next. My favorite books will be from my childhood.
And I still cannot pronounce words correctly.
Wednesday, January 27
Creatures Large and Small
I've always had pets.
There are very few years that aren't filled with scratches, bite marks,or shed hair.
My First pet I can actually remember (petting, feeding and generally loving) would be Kitten Little. She was found on the side of the road when I was two. My father was always a nature nerd and so we scooped her up, and took her home. She was so tiny she could fit entirely into my fathers' palm. Because she was so small we had to feed her from an eye dropper. As she grew, we taught her to be litter trained and how to live outside when my mother's allergies got too bad.
I remember her because we were together for nearly 16 years. In that time she was more my friend than any person. She slept on my bed. Either curled up on my toes or in the scoop of my bent legs. She sat on my lap, when the sunlight no longer lazed across her favorite spot by the window. And she played. Out of all the cat's I've known, SHE was the best mixture of temperament and energy.
My next cat and the first pet I adopted from a shelter was Oscar; the fat, shedding, old cat.
Oscar was one of a pair of two aged cats who had been discarded when their owner grew too old to take care of them. At 11 and 12years old they couldn't be separated, and had to be adopted together. In my infinite wisdom I decided that two old cats would be better than on kitten ANY DAY. They'd already be house broken and already act well around people. I was right. Except for the fact that I personally had to empty their litter box everyday like clockwork. One thing that will give anyone a sense of work is to follow an old cat that has diarrhea and clean it up. I can now say that I will be ready when I have children; I know all the best surface cleaners!
I must have based my love of animals from my first nature walk with my dad. He taught me to love all kinds of creatures, by showing me their habitats in person. He explained to me early in life that they are created for a reason. Each animal has it's own environment and within that sphere they have their own jobs. Spiders for instance are not scary. Not unless you find a wolf-spider on you in the shower like I did at 16. Spiders are great, they keep bugs from
Trying to take over the world
If you've seen Pinky and the Brain you'll recognize this reference. If you haven't Go Here.
There are very few years that aren't filled with scratches, bite marks,or shed hair.
My First pet I can actually remember (petting, feeding and generally loving) would be Kitten Little. She was found on the side of the road when I was two. My father was always a nature nerd and so we scooped her up, and took her home. She was so tiny she could fit entirely into my fathers' palm. Because she was so small we had to feed her from an eye dropper. As she grew, we taught her to be litter trained and how to live outside when my mother's allergies got too bad.
I remember her because we were together for nearly 16 years. In that time she was more my friend than any person. She slept on my bed. Either curled up on my toes or in the scoop of my bent legs. She sat on my lap, when the sunlight no longer lazed across her favorite spot by the window. And she played. Out of all the cat's I've known, SHE was the best mixture of temperament and energy.
My next cat and the first pet I adopted from a shelter was Oscar; the fat, shedding, old cat.
Oscar was one of a pair of two aged cats who had been discarded when their owner grew too old to take care of them. At 11 and 12years old they couldn't be separated, and had to be adopted together. In my infinite wisdom I decided that two old cats would be better than on kitten ANY DAY. They'd already be house broken and already act well around people. I was right. Except for the fact that I personally had to empty their litter box everyday like clockwork. One thing that will give anyone a sense of work is to follow an old cat that has diarrhea and clean it up. I can now say that I will be ready when I have children; I know all the best surface cleaners!I must have based my love of animals from my first nature walk with my dad. He taught me to love all kinds of creatures, by showing me their habitats in person. He explained to me early in life that they are created for a reason. Each animal has it's own environment and within that sphere they have their own jobs. Spiders for instance are not scary. Not unless you find a wolf-spider on you in the shower like I did at 16. Spiders are great, they keep bugs from
Trying to take over the world
If you've seen Pinky and the Brain you'll recognize this reference. If you haven't Go Here.
MY next fuzzy feline quite literally chose me. Two years after being in a new house I noticed the lack of feline companionship.
I often took nature walks in the grove of trees behind my house. One day while I was walking I heard a mewling sound. And out of the bushes walked a small ginger cat. He was very thin and eyed me from a few feet away. I pet him and got him to follow me up to the house he wouldn't come up to the porch. So I yelled inside and had my roommate keep an eye on him while i cranked open a can of tuna a can of chicken and a handful of dog food and a dish of water.
Two vaccinations later, two collars, two vets, and the name Fred, we are still Cat and Owner.
If you haven't owned a pet I'd suggest you find time to visit a shelter and at least play with the lonely animals there... The most rewarding pets are Cats and Dogs. They teach you more about relationships than any psychology class can everyday.
Monday, January 25
Blindness cures ED
Designing my first ad in class I choose to highlight the adverse effects of Viagra, or perhaps the hopeful effects of taking the drug... blindness.
My ad runs something like this:
-Narrator: "Is your signifigant other just too ugly for you to 'get it up'?
-Guy: "Yeah! But I love her. Or at least I'm stuck with her."
-Narrator: "NO Worries! With Viagra's special concentrated doses, that cause temporary blindness you'll never have trouble "facing" her limp again."
-Guy: "Golly!"
-Narrator: "Order now and get a 2nd rush delivery FREE!"
WARNING: This ad has nothing to do with real viagra, it's just a joke even though it's funny.
Haha! The fun you can have with gullible people. The interesting thing is that ED has more to do with the guy than the girl. Ironic that after all the work girls put into being "perfect" guys still get inferior complexes too. (that and diabetes) Hey guys eat better now and take care of yourself or you won't be getting any at 60.
My ad runs something like this:
-Narrator: "Is your signifigant other just too ugly for you to 'get it up'?-Guy: "Yeah! But I love her. Or at least I'm stuck with her."
-Narrator: "NO Worries! With Viagra's special concentrated doses, that cause temporary blindness you'll never have trouble "facing" her limp again."
-Guy: "Golly!"
-Narrator: "Order now and get a 2nd rush delivery FREE!"
WARNING: This ad has nothing to do with real viagra, it's just a joke even though it's funny.
Haha! The fun you can have with gullible people. The interesting thing is that ED has more to do with the guy than the girl. Ironic that after all the work girls put into being "perfect" guys still get inferior complexes too. (that and diabetes) Hey guys eat better now and take care of yourself or you won't be getting any at 60.
Friday, January 22
Make it look good!
First thing I do in the morning:
Turn off my phone (alarm on vibrate under my pillow.)
Walk to the bathroom and look at the night's damage to my hair.
I used to hear that females spend a lot of time preening, grooming and generally standing in front of the mirror. Are we vain? Are we just looking after our investment into the gene pool?
In Funny Girl the musical.
Many women over the age know that, "If a girl isn't pretty, like a Miss Atlantic City, all she gets from life is pity and a pat."
Who whats to be Miss Atlantic City? I prefer the Miss Outdoors in Maryland.
Why are girls seen as JUST pretty? Are they? Does it matter?
The definition of beauty: the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest).
Turn off my phone (alarm on vibrate under my pillow.)
Walk to the bathroom and look at the night's damage to my hair.
I used to hear that females spend a lot of time preening, grooming and generally standing in front of the mirror. Are we vain? Are we just looking after our investment into the gene pool?
In Funny Girl the musical.
Many women over the age know that, "If a girl isn't pretty, like a Miss Atlantic City, all she gets from life is pity and a pat."
Who whats to be Miss Atlantic City? I prefer the Miss Outdoors in Maryland.
Why are girls seen as JUST pretty? Are they? Does it matter?
The definition of beauty: the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest).
I noticed that beauty for most is on the outside (their FIRST, part of the definition.) I was in 7th grade and I didn't have the clothes or body or the hair style to be as pretty as the rest. A poor tomboy with a crew cut doesn't quite fit in most public schools.
Years later I realized I've always had an advantage inherent in my features; my smile. Born with a huge mouth that blessed my parents with hours of screams and songs, I can fit all these 32 (sorry not 42) wonderful teeth into it. I've never needed braces or a retainer to move my mouth into near perfection. And that's when I realized my First is when that my beauty isn't in the alignment of my teeth, my cup size or my height. it's in the scar on my lip, and the kink in my hair.
MY beauty isn't in perfection, I'll take the second part of the definition "Qualities Manifested".
Here are a few of my Beautiful Women: Nike Ad , Tracy Lewis , Dara Torres , NG
Wednesday, January 20
Html ?
I learned how to search the web for HTML codes and for the best web sites to copy and paste from.
Shh... Don't Tell.
- One of the nifty things I found out was how to flip back and forth between 'windows'. It's quite simple, you just hit the 'tab' and 'alt' keys simultaneously. Or as I do... Hold alt and tap tab until you reach the window that you want. ♥
- The second thing I learned was how to read code.
It must have been developed by an English professor or such because it's vaguely similar to Grammar.
There are beginnings and ends to each phrase.
In English these would be Capital Letters and Periods.
In HTML they are Carrots. Not the food you ignoramus. They are these things < >. I won't give away too much because this isn't a How To blog. Ah the palpable disappointment. - Third on my list of things I have learned was; how to add a link. And open it in a new window too!) My Example is here ↓
Here is one of the good sites I found to yoink from.
SITE!!
Fun things i found on my searchings...
- How to change the bullet points into ♦ and Roman Numerals. It's all about the type.
- I ran into a few color code charts. Some with ALL the COLORS you can think of and others with fewer choices but oh so wonderfully arranged.
Ciao Bella! -Ciao Bello!
Tuesday, January 19
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