Hello blog readers of the world! Hope you all had excellent respective holidays!
I'm writing today because I kind of just felt like it. Writing. And Reading (I need more books people. Please comment with suggestions. Only good ones allowed). Like, it's been a while. So I took a quiz-like thing on the internet to see what famous writer I write like for inspiration. My friend had taken it and she was lucky enough to write like Vonnegut. Jealous, and curious, I took the test and it told me I wrote like J.D. Salinger. At first I was actually upset. I mean, Catcher in the Rye is extremely controversial, and Salinger has a pretty big nose (wouldn't want to be associated with that). People say only crazies and axe murderers have Catcher in their homes, or like it, or whatever, but I for sure disagree. I loved that book and I'm probably one of the least crazy people in my family, at least I hope... Anyways, it got me thinking about what I wanted to do with my life.
I want to write. Like be all awesome and cool and famous for writing a story from a dream (even if the story sucked), or start writing on a napkin on a train and become richer than the Queen (That's what happened to J.K. right?). No, it's not about the money, I just like to write is all. And I'd like to do something that I genuinely enjoy if I have to do it for the next few decades. Well but so here is the problem. A writing major, or an English major, doesn't usually get you a job. And although I'm not basing all my life choices on the fact that I need to make bank and have some smokin' career, I still like having a place to live. And food. (My sister is reading this thinking, I was an Lit major! You can totally get a job! But get this, she is also a doctor. So that isn't exactly the general course for a Lit major. Lez be honest.)
Blog readers of the world! Help me out! What can I do where I can write and be as happy as a nerdfighter at Comi-con while still being able to live in a place with running water? This is actually important, seeing as I'll have to make grown-up decisions while I play pretend adult at college, and I've got time to really decide, but I also need some time to change my mind. We all know that usually happens in university anyways. Comment with ideas and suggestions for careers and majors that don't stink please, who knows, maybe I'll actually take them.
Also, Happy New Year! You know, if you follow the Gregorian Calendar and celebrate that and all. See you when the 21st century hits the teenage years. Hold on to your hats, that is bound to be a crazy time full of pimples and hormones for the planet.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
You Just Won The Award for Never Forgetting to be Awesome! Enjoy a Trip to Vidcon!
So blog readers of the world, I am incredibly sorry for abandoning you. That was unfair of me, and I truly didn't mean to be such a jerk. It's time to forgive and forget, so let's move past that. This leads me to the topic of my post for the day. YouTube.
The most recent vlog I became completely and utterly absorbed in, was the Lizzie Bennet Diaries. It was so extremely entertaining to watch this girl's life, and although I constantly thought, wow, this is kind of exactly like Pride and Prejudice (which I haven't even read), I didn't realize until just now that that was actually the goal, the point, the entire reason for creating that blog. Granted, I watched the first 53 episodes between the hours of 12am and 2am last night, but still, I was disappointed with my utter lack of ability to pick up on that. How am I supposed to be a famous YouTuber if I don't even realize what a famous YouTuber's point on YouTube is until the story is practically finished? What does that say about me?
Well, considering my impending fame on YouTube is slowly dwindling away, I'm thinking it means this: I will never be famous on YouTube, the only people that watch my class project are the people in my class... and my parents, and no, I will never win the award for never forgetting to be awesome. So no, I will not enjoy a trip to Vidcon. Maybe there is a "con" for average bloggers who barely blog? Probably not.
In case you care, here is the link to my final project: Shakespeare Final Project (English 140)
I recently had to create a video for a class project. Well I didn't have to create a video, but being me, I decided to be creative and ambitious and immediately hated myself after actually starting the video. It took me hours and hours to create, but I was strangely satisfied when I was finally, finally finished. I had a weird craving for more videos, and a new goal of becoming a famous YouTuber. I also fell in love with about a zillion vlogs, so this could have also been a contributor. Really, I just want to go to Vidcon for being awesome. Is that so bad?
The most recent vlog I became completely and utterly absorbed in, was the Lizzie Bennet Diaries. It was so extremely entertaining to watch this girl's life, and although I constantly thought, wow, this is kind of exactly like Pride and Prejudice (which I haven't even read), I didn't realize until just now that that was actually the goal, the point, the entire reason for creating that blog. Granted, I watched the first 53 episodes between the hours of 12am and 2am last night, but still, I was disappointed with my utter lack of ability to pick up on that. How am I supposed to be a famous YouTuber if I don't even realize what a famous YouTuber's point on YouTube is until the story is practically finished? What does that say about me?
Well, considering my impending fame on YouTube is slowly dwindling away, I'm thinking it means this: I will never be famous on YouTube, the only people that watch my class project are the people in my class... and my parents, and no, I will never win the award for never forgetting to be awesome. So no, I will not enjoy a trip to Vidcon. Maybe there is a "con" for average bloggers who barely blog? Probably not.
In case you care, here is the link to my final project: Shakespeare Final Project (English 140)
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Thanksgiving Day Comes But Once a Year
In my opinion, Thanksgiving Day is the best day of November.
Right off the bat, you don't have school, or work. So automatically you're thankful for something. You sleep in, wake up, and either head down to Detroit to run the Turkey Trot so you don't feel bad about pigging out tonight, or you act like a lazy person like myself and watch The Thanksgiving Day Parade in Detroit at the parade route or on television with cinnamon pumpkin waffles or pancakes and Santa to look forward to. Not gonna lie, I never understood why the mayor gives Santa the key to Detroit, but I kinda like it.
Then you spend the day cooking and setting up and feeling happy and thankful while the smell of turkey and pie fills the house. As your mouth waters, you count down the hours, minutes, seconds until you'll be able to take the first bite of succulent white or dark meat and mound of potatoes with volcanic gravy rushing to all of the peas and corn waiting in terror below. You finish helping upon helping of Thanksgiving yummy-ness and eagerly await the pumpkin pie and whipped cream you know will soon be on your plate. Some of you will sit and watch the Lions lose, or whoever your team is otherwise win, and you'll rub your belly until morning.
Then, some of you will go to sleep and set your alarms for some absurd time like three in the morning to go stand in long lines with cocoa and coffee. You'll run into packed stores and grab whatever you can reach because it has big yellow sign with "30% off" written on it. You'll stomp on feet and pull hair so you can reach the biggest discount. You'll have some fun, maybe, and be really happy with the $54 you saved. Congrats to you.
I'd now like to take a moment to say happy birthday to my uncle's younger wife. Happy birthday!
Now, I'd like to say that I am thankful for so much. Too much to list on a silly blog post, but don't worry, there's a lot.
I hope you have everything in the world to be thankful for! Have a happy Thanksgiving! Thanks for reading! Enjoy!
Right off the bat, you don't have school, or work. So automatically you're thankful for something. You sleep in, wake up, and either head down to Detroit to run the Turkey Trot so you don't feel bad about pigging out tonight, or you act like a lazy person like myself and watch The Thanksgiving Day Parade in Detroit at the parade route or on television with cinnamon pumpkin waffles or pancakes and Santa to look forward to. Not gonna lie, I never understood why the mayor gives Santa the key to Detroit, but I kinda like it.
Then you spend the day cooking and setting up and feeling happy and thankful while the smell of turkey and pie fills the house. As your mouth waters, you count down the hours, minutes, seconds until you'll be able to take the first bite of succulent white or dark meat and mound of potatoes with volcanic gravy rushing to all of the peas and corn waiting in terror below. You finish helping upon helping of Thanksgiving yummy-ness and eagerly await the pumpkin pie and whipped cream you know will soon be on your plate. Some of you will sit and watch the Lions lose, or whoever your team is otherwise win, and you'll rub your belly until morning.
Then, some of you will go to sleep and set your alarms for some absurd time like three in the morning to go stand in long lines with cocoa and coffee. You'll run into packed stores and grab whatever you can reach because it has big yellow sign with "30% off" written on it. You'll stomp on feet and pull hair so you can reach the biggest discount. You'll have some fun, maybe, and be really happy with the $54 you saved. Congrats to you.
I'd now like to take a moment to say happy birthday to my uncle's younger wife. Happy birthday!
Now, I'd like to say that I am thankful for so much. Too much to list on a silly blog post, but don't worry, there's a lot.
I hope you have everything in the world to be thankful for! Have a happy Thanksgiving! Thanks for reading! Enjoy!
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Where's that Silence in the Library?
Today, my day consisted of four things: Spanish, the library, homework, and crayons.
I woke up to my usual Here Comes the Sun 8:13 alarm clock and thought to myself, "It's cold and Spanish is dumb, so I should go back to bed". Of course, after having one of those in your head arguments, I realized this was an invalid case and got up for the typical morning routine of teeth brushing and cereal eating before the next two hours of Español. I was lucky, because I knew I didn't have to go to Spanish Lunch Tables for an hour after class with the amount of Othello work I had to do.
My luck soon ran out.
On the way back from class, I battled the winds of A-squared and headed for the Ugli. I made my way up the stairs like a popsicle, and headed to Askwith for the three and a half hour version of Othello I had to watch before writing my two page paper due tomorrow. You're thinking "woah that's a lot of Shakespeare", and I agree. But honestly, three and a half hours is one of the short ones. And I only had one video to watch this week. I'd say that's nice. Anyways, I go up to the guy working the media library and ask for the Ian McKellen version of Othello. I give him all the information I had on the film (year, actors, directors, anything I could find) and what class it was for, and waited for him to quickly grab the dvd and let me leave and watch. My teacher has this nasty habit of choosing the most obscure versions of each play, so they are hardly ever online. What a bummer. So the guy at the desk says, "uh, I'm not sure if we have that." I say "can you check?" "Oh yeah okay" (uh duh). Then he asks me to repeat the information again and decides that they have a version to watch in the library, but that it is being watched already by three people. I didn't care, I didn't want to have to sit there and watch anyways. So I awaited the time when he would realize that they must have another copy for me to take back to my dorm room and watch in my bed with animal crackers and snapple. After a lot of back-and-forths of me asking him to check and him realizing that, yeah, that's a thing, he comes back with a yellow case reading Othello Abridged. My heart sank. I knew this couldn't be it. It was only 62 minutes. There was no way. Then I had that other thought. "What if it was it?! What if I read the wrong one online?! He looked it up, he says its right!" So I grabbed the disk, said thank you, and headed out into the frozen tundra that was my campus. I got back to my room, put the disk in my computer, and saw that it was in fact the wrong version. I knew it, I just didn't want to believe it. So after waiting twenty minutes, hoping the dvd would miraculously appear in my room, I headed back to the Ugli. Back up the stairs like a popsicle, and into Askwith. The guy at the desk looked at me more confused than a pig in Alaska, and took the dvd back. He told me the one to watch there would be done in a few minutes, and I told him I'd wait.
Thirty minutes later, I was still waiting when someone from my class came in. He asked for Othello, and was told to join the club. One of the girls watching came out to say they were almost done, and I went back to waiting, this time with a partner. After five minutes, we decided to go back and see just how far they were in the film. They had just reached Act Five! He left, and I was all alone again. Then another girl came and we waited to watch together. Thank goodness. After another ten minutes, the three who had been watching came out shaking their heads. The film was long, and they didn't even bother finishing it. Guess who was excited? So we sit down to watch and are soon joined by another classmate. Clearly, we only sort of watched, sort of browsed the wonders of the internet, and really talked. A lot. We came up with our ideas for our paper, and finally finished. I'm not one to cut corners on an assignment, but I have to admit, I skipped to the good parts and got out of there as fast as possible and headed through the wind tunnel to my room to write my paper.
An hour and a half later I had finished the world's most awful paper. It was so full of singing in the shower that I felt ashamed to be writing it, but it had to be done. I finished just in time for ,y semi-mandatory Spanish tutoring. My brain was dead, but down the steps I went to hablo español.
After tutoring, I talked to my cousin. She's been asking me to go to the library with her since classes started, but it never worked out. I figured I'd spent most of my day in the library already, why not make it all of my day. So I headed out to the Ugli once again. I sat down, and realized how loud it was. I was caught in this awkward state of semi-attention to everything. My homework, other people's conversations. Everything. Of course I was surrounded by a calculus group (ah) and a group working on some Hamlet project (figures). At the mention of Horatio's name, my ears perked up like a puppy when the treat bag shakes. I was anything but productive. Oh, did I mention I forgot half of my homework in my room anyways? The sensory overload and lack of homework resulted in my leaving the library.
An hour later I finished my Spanish homework with just enough time to go to the crayon art event! I bundled back up, and headed across the howling courtyard to glue crayons on canvas and blow dry them to melt. It was so nice to be sitting on the floor surrounded by crayons, and not noisy library folk. My crayon art came out wonderisly as well. No that was not a typo. (I sort of copied another kids, but his was cool so I think it's okay.)
I know this story was kind of ridiculous and super long, but I don't care. I even had a request to write all about my library adventures. Hey, you're the one who decided to read it!
Oh and a little advice: next time you want to study or do any homework, the library (the Ugli at least) is not the place to go. Ever.
I woke up to my usual Here Comes the Sun 8:13 alarm clock and thought to myself, "It's cold and Spanish is dumb, so I should go back to bed". Of course, after having one of those in your head arguments, I realized this was an invalid case and got up for the typical morning routine of teeth brushing and cereal eating before the next two hours of Español. I was lucky, because I knew I didn't have to go to Spanish Lunch Tables for an hour after class with the amount of Othello work I had to do.
My luck soon ran out.
On the way back from class, I battled the winds of A-squared and headed for the Ugli. I made my way up the stairs like a popsicle, and headed to Askwith for the three and a half hour version of Othello I had to watch before writing my two page paper due tomorrow. You're thinking "woah that's a lot of Shakespeare", and I agree. But honestly, three and a half hours is one of the short ones. And I only had one video to watch this week. I'd say that's nice. Anyways, I go up to the guy working the media library and ask for the Ian McKellen version of Othello. I give him all the information I had on the film (year, actors, directors, anything I could find) and what class it was for, and waited for him to quickly grab the dvd and let me leave and watch. My teacher has this nasty habit of choosing the most obscure versions of each play, so they are hardly ever online. What a bummer. So the guy at the desk says, "uh, I'm not sure if we have that." I say "can you check?" "Oh yeah okay" (uh duh). Then he asks me to repeat the information again and decides that they have a version to watch in the library, but that it is being watched already by three people. I didn't care, I didn't want to have to sit there and watch anyways. So I awaited the time when he would realize that they must have another copy for me to take back to my dorm room and watch in my bed with animal crackers and snapple. After a lot of back-and-forths of me asking him to check and him realizing that, yeah, that's a thing, he comes back with a yellow case reading Othello Abridged. My heart sank. I knew this couldn't be it. It was only 62 minutes. There was no way. Then I had that other thought. "What if it was it?! What if I read the wrong one online?! He looked it up, he says its right!" So I grabbed the disk, said thank you, and headed out into the frozen tundra that was my campus. I got back to my room, put the disk in my computer, and saw that it was in fact the wrong version. I knew it, I just didn't want to believe it. So after waiting twenty minutes, hoping the dvd would miraculously appear in my room, I headed back to the Ugli. Back up the stairs like a popsicle, and into Askwith. The guy at the desk looked at me more confused than a pig in Alaska, and took the dvd back. He told me the one to watch there would be done in a few minutes, and I told him I'd wait.
Thirty minutes later, I was still waiting when someone from my class came in. He asked for Othello, and was told to join the club. One of the girls watching came out to say they were almost done, and I went back to waiting, this time with a partner. After five minutes, we decided to go back and see just how far they were in the film. They had just reached Act Five! He left, and I was all alone again. Then another girl came and we waited to watch together. Thank goodness. After another ten minutes, the three who had been watching came out shaking their heads. The film was long, and they didn't even bother finishing it. Guess who was excited? So we sit down to watch and are soon joined by another classmate. Clearly, we only sort of watched, sort of browsed the wonders of the internet, and really talked. A lot. We came up with our ideas for our paper, and finally finished. I'm not one to cut corners on an assignment, but I have to admit, I skipped to the good parts and got out of there as fast as possible and headed through the wind tunnel to my room to write my paper.
An hour and a half later I had finished the world's most awful paper. It was so full of singing in the shower that I felt ashamed to be writing it, but it had to be done. I finished just in time for ,y semi-mandatory Spanish tutoring. My brain was dead, but down the steps I went to hablo español.
After tutoring, I talked to my cousin. She's been asking me to go to the library with her since classes started, but it never worked out. I figured I'd spent most of my day in the library already, why not make it all of my day. So I headed out to the Ugli once again. I sat down, and realized how loud it was. I was caught in this awkward state of semi-attention to everything. My homework, other people's conversations. Everything. Of course I was surrounded by a calculus group (ah) and a group working on some Hamlet project (figures). At the mention of Horatio's name, my ears perked up like a puppy when the treat bag shakes. I was anything but productive. Oh, did I mention I forgot half of my homework in my room anyways? The sensory overload and lack of homework resulted in my leaving the library.
An hour later I finished my Spanish homework with just enough time to go to the crayon art event! I bundled back up, and headed across the howling courtyard to glue crayons on canvas and blow dry them to melt. It was so nice to be sitting on the floor surrounded by crayons, and not noisy library folk. My crayon art came out wonderisly as well. No that was not a typo. (I sort of copied another kids, but his was cool so I think it's okay.)
I know this story was kind of ridiculous and super long, but I don't care. I even had a request to write all about my library adventures. Hey, you're the one who decided to read it!
Oh and a little advice: next time you want to study or do any homework, the library (the Ugli at least) is not the place to go. Ever.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
I'm a Geek With a Pumpkin
It's that special time of year. The time when stores go from Halloween, to Thanksgiving, to Christmas (Hanukkah-ehh), to New Years sales in less than 30 days. The time when the radio plays the monster mash on one station and sleigh bells on another. The time when empty lots become pumpkin patches or forests of evergreens ready for tinsel. The time when that one store that never has anything in it suddenly is full of costumes for that candy filled haunted night in October, and then left hollowed out like the Jack-O-Lantern on the porch.
Jack-O-Lanterns-- This brings me to a very important part of this special time of year: carving pumpkins.
I've been carving pumpkins since before the days of daddy-daughter pumpkin carving. Every year, it is one of my favorite things to do in fall. I love going to the pumpkin patch, or that empty lot with the pumpkins on the tables and choosing the one with the most character. I am partial to the ones with a nice stem (in case I want to use it for a nose) and a very fat, plump round body or a tall and skinny thing. Usually some crooked face gets etched into my orange gourd, but this year, my cousin Z wouldn't allow just some silly face. She's a stencil user you see, and two triangular eyes and a three toothed smile just wouldn't cut it. As I stared at the taped picture of a cat glued to her globe, I realized that I had no idea what to carve into my pumpkin. If I was going to go all out and use a stencil, it was gonna mean something! Everyone was carving things that had to do with their costumes, spiders and cats, but somehow the Tardis didn't seem to work well on my pumpkin. So I searched the web... and found nothing acceptable. (How do you use ellipses guys?) Then I searched my brain. What was meaningful to me that would look good on a tall, skinny pumpkin? Then it came to me in a fit of geeky-ness! I was going to carve the most absurd thing I had ever carved into a pumpkin.
In honor of my good friend William Shakespeare, and my professor who thinks Hamlet should be learned over five weeks even though Macbeth, Othello, King Lear, and every other play only gets one week, and the teacher who first taught me Hamlet, I carved (drum roll please!!) Act Five scene one! That's right. The gravedigger scene. You know, "Alas poor Yorick!" Because yeah, I am that much of a geek.
Im a geek with a pumpkin and I'm proud of it!
Happy carving! Happy candy eating! Happy Halloween!!!!
Sunday, October 14, 2012
I Think You Need a Doctor
I guess given my family history it would make a lot of sense that I fall in love with a doctor. Unfortunately, my doctor is not just any old doctor. He is The Doctor. It's more of a name than a title really. Someone I will never be able to be with. The age difference is too great, and the fact that I'm not British is a definite turn off for him. Who is he you may ask? If you don't know, I'm sorry that you have yet to be infected.
Don't worry, your time will come.
Right...
Now!
Take your mouse immediately and open a new tab. Go to Netflix. If you don't have a Netflix, buy one (or borrow someone else's. That's what real people do anyways). Go to the search box. Type in Doctor Who and play the first episode. It's called Rose, or something, and it is fantastic. Now enjoy the rest of your life. It will be about a bagillion times better.
This is all being said after five days of watching by the way. So you know this is legit. I'm already on Season 3. It's a problem I'm proud of. I was just recently cursed with the good television infection, but I am so very thankful that I was. In honor of that gratefulness, I would like to publicly announce my gratitude to the universe and all the different worlds inside it. Thank you AGS. You have enlightened me to the world of the Whovians. I am glad to be here.
Don't worry, your time will come.
Right...
Now!
Take your mouse immediately and open a new tab. Go to Netflix. If you don't have a Netflix, buy one (or borrow someone else's. That's what real people do anyways). Go to the search box. Type in Doctor Who and play the first episode. It's called Rose, or something, and it is fantastic. Now enjoy the rest of your life. It will be about a bagillion times better.
This is all being said after five days of watching by the way. So you know this is legit. I'm already on Season 3. It's a problem I'm proud of. I was just recently cursed with the good television infection, but I am so very thankful that I was. In honor of that gratefulness, I would like to publicly announce my gratitude to the universe and all the different worlds inside it. Thank you AGS. You have enlightened me to the world of the Whovians. I am glad to be here.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
The Art of Losing
What do you say to someone who has just lost a great friend, relative, acquaintance? Nothing sounds right. Nothing is right. Condolences are never enough. Thoughts. Prayers. They seem insignificant.
I've known too many people who have lost someone they cared about. I've seen too many people who have had to stand up and lend a shoulder when they are grieving just as equally. Each relationship, each connection, leads to sadness in the case of a loss.
This is a post for anyone who has felt helpless. Anyone who has felt sad. Anyone who needs a hug right now, or a shoulder to cry on. Anyone who doesn't even know what to do with themselves because they are far too upset to think straight. This is a post for anyone who has felt the grief associated with losing an amazing person. This is for you.
Know that the people who know you, those people care, and they are all here for you. Always.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
But How Big is Your Flag Pin?
So being 18 for a presidential election is a pretty big deal right? I can vote! I can have an opinion and make it count (sort of)! I can... be really, really confused.
Tonight was the first presidential candidate debate. I was fortunate enough to watch with two friends in my room while drinking a tall glass of milk with two double stuffed Oreos. Sounds perfect right? Not really.
Frankly, I do not understand politicians. The debate cleared up almost nothing. I don't understand who is really the "better" candidate. Don't they both have good aspects and bad? They both do what they think is the best for our country in their eyes? I know everyone has an opinion on this. My family is so polar-ly opposite they are freezing to death. So which is right? Who am I supposed to vote for and feel confident about my decision? It was all just talk? Or at least it seemed like it. And honestly, all I could think about the whole time was how someone out there was probably commenting on the color of Mitt's tie versus Obama's, and the size of their flag pins. I guess some people are just more patriotic than others *she said sarcastically*. Also, how do they remember all those numbers? 40% of this did that? I tried to check the facts on my computer, but why aren't they on the screen during the debate? That would certainly help a lot of people wouldn't it? Also, the amount of times the candidates strayed from the actual questions was astounding, and yet not at all surprising. How much of what they said is a campaign promise, and how much will actually change? Why do they have to interrupt each other to make a point. That seems rude? Also, what is with the smiling? No need to smile as the other candidate talks just to prove how silly you think what they are saying is.
The debate reminded me of visiting the Kennedy museum. Walking along the water, all the way to being inside the library, my dad couldn't stop talking about how, for the Nixon versus Kennedy debate, people watching on t.v. thought differently about the debate than people listening on the radio. Listeners felt that one person "won", while viewers thought the opposite. Was this debate the same? My friend continuously commented on how great Romney was coming off, even though she doesn't agree with his policies. Did he sound better? Or did he just look better? I tried to close my eyes, but that didn't really help.
Let's be honest. I think Michelle Obama should run for president. Maybe it would strip Barack of his masculinity, and maybe some people (ignorant idiots) would think a woman cannot be president, but she seems pretty good. She is smart and I like her ideas. What could be bad about that? Plus maybe that is just the amount of change this country needs to be better than it ever was.
We don't need to compete with every other country. We need to compete with what we think the best we can be is, and be better. I don't know which candidate will do that. Hopefully that will become clearer over the coming month. Hopefully.
Oh, my friend sent me this link to help clear some things up. He says it's not biased, but I'm pretty sure everything is. It may just be facts, but someone with an opinion wrote down those facts, and presented them in the way they wanted to. Everything has an influence on someone.
Here is the link if you want though.
http://www.sacbee.com/2012/05/01/4456551/obama-vs-romney-where-they-stand.html
My mom's idea: Reform the way we vote! Vote for a president and test him out for a year. If the people vote that they like him, he can have four more years. If they don't, the other candidate can have a trial year. If the people liked him, then he could get four more years. If we don't like him either, there would be an entirely new election with entirely new candidates. Or... Have each elected president be in office for six years with no reelection possibilities. Pretty good ideas if you ask me.
Basically, I think something needs to change. America can do better than this. There are more important things to worry about.
Tonight was the first presidential candidate debate. I was fortunate enough to watch with two friends in my room while drinking a tall glass of milk with two double stuffed Oreos. Sounds perfect right? Not really.
Frankly, I do not understand politicians. The debate cleared up almost nothing. I don't understand who is really the "better" candidate. Don't they both have good aspects and bad? They both do what they think is the best for our country in their eyes? I know everyone has an opinion on this. My family is so polar-ly opposite they are freezing to death. So which is right? Who am I supposed to vote for and feel confident about my decision? It was all just talk? Or at least it seemed like it. And honestly, all I could think about the whole time was how someone out there was probably commenting on the color of Mitt's tie versus Obama's, and the size of their flag pins. I guess some people are just more patriotic than others *she said sarcastically*. Also, how do they remember all those numbers? 40% of this did that? I tried to check the facts on my computer, but why aren't they on the screen during the debate? That would certainly help a lot of people wouldn't it? Also, the amount of times the candidates strayed from the actual questions was astounding, and yet not at all surprising. How much of what they said is a campaign promise, and how much will actually change? Why do they have to interrupt each other to make a point. That seems rude? Also, what is with the smiling? No need to smile as the other candidate talks just to prove how silly you think what they are saying is.
The debate reminded me of visiting the Kennedy museum. Walking along the water, all the way to being inside the library, my dad couldn't stop talking about how, for the Nixon versus Kennedy debate, people watching on t.v. thought differently about the debate than people listening on the radio. Listeners felt that one person "won", while viewers thought the opposite. Was this debate the same? My friend continuously commented on how great Romney was coming off, even though she doesn't agree with his policies. Did he sound better? Or did he just look better? I tried to close my eyes, but that didn't really help.
Let's be honest. I think Michelle Obama should run for president. Maybe it would strip Barack of his masculinity, and maybe some people (ignorant idiots) would think a woman cannot be president, but she seems pretty good. She is smart and I like her ideas. What could be bad about that? Plus maybe that is just the amount of change this country needs to be better than it ever was.
We don't need to compete with every other country. We need to compete with what we think the best we can be is, and be better. I don't know which candidate will do that. Hopefully that will become clearer over the coming month. Hopefully.
Oh, my friend sent me this link to help clear some things up. He says it's not biased, but I'm pretty sure everything is. It may just be facts, but someone with an opinion wrote down those facts, and presented them in the way they wanted to. Everything has an influence on someone.
Here is the link if you want though.
http://www.sacbee.com/2012/05/01/4456551/obama-vs-romney-where-they-stand.html
My mom's idea: Reform the way we vote! Vote for a president and test him out for a year. If the people vote that they like him, he can have four more years. If they don't, the other candidate can have a trial year. If the people liked him, then he could get four more years. If we don't like him either, there would be an entirely new election with entirely new candidates. Or... Have each elected president be in office for six years with no reelection possibilities. Pretty good ideas if you ask me.
Basically, I think something needs to change. America can do better than this. There are more important things to worry about.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
The Problem with Advice
Everyone wants to give you advice. No matter what you're doing, someone else will have an input that they MUST share. There is a problem with advice givers, though. Most people give advice the same way they give presents. They think about themselves.
I was once told to give a person a gift you would like to receive. Although this works sometimes, it can really backfire on you. Same with advice. I'm sure you can imagine someone saying to themselves, "I'd love a gift card to this place! I bet they would too!" Then, in the excitement of your birthday or Hanukkah or graduation or something, you open up the envelope to find yet another gift card to a place you never shop at if you can avoid it. All I want is for someone to ask me what gift I want. I'll tell them this, "NOTHING. I don't NEED anything. If you have to ask, it won't be right. Your gift is nice, but is it thoughtful? Is it something I want? Or is it something you would want? I like Michaels, Barnes and Noble, music, H&M, American Apparel, Target. What about you? I don't like people to stare at me, or to touch me when I don't want to be touched. I'm not the same person as you." I don't want, or need the same presents, and I don't want, or need, the same advice.
I've gotten a lot of advice in just 18 years of existence. Some of it I've blown off, and others I have really taken to heart. A lot of the time, I wish I had taken some advice and not blown off others. How many times have you done something without asking for advice and regretted it? And how many times have you taken someones advice and wished you had never asked? For me, I feel like the amount of times are almost equal. So what am I supposed to do? Take shitty advice that gets me nowhere and makes me feel like no one, or not take anyones advice and end up the same way. Either way, I end up sitting in a semi-lit dorm room complaining to no one on a blog that four people read about absolutely nothing. Reading this is like watching a re-run of Seinfeld. I've figured it out, though; the advice was meant to be given to a younger, more vulnerable and foolish version of the person who gave me the advice in the first place. It wasn't meant for me. So then why do I take it? Is it human nature to need someone to tell you that what you are doing is right? Why should it matter so much? If I'm happy doing what I'm doing, why should I have to change just because someone told me some advice about it that I just had to take? What if I'm unhappy? Do I have to stick to what I'm doing because someone told me I should? That it would get better? I shouldn't. Not if I don't believe it.
So then the moral of the story is this: Don't give your old, idiotic self advice you wish you would have known fifteen, or even five years ago. Give the person who asked for the advice the advice that is just right for them. Think about their current situation, and about who they really are, not about your past personality that needed a push in the "right" direction. It might not be "right" for someone else. Don't give a person a present that was meant for you. Even if that present is just a few words that you think are helping them. They probably aren't. They are probably just making the person mad, or upset, or confused. Or they are reaffirming an idea that you didn't want them to, so your plan backfired anyway.
Yes, sometimes this isn't true. I've exaggerated quite a bit. But did I? Honestly? You knew exactly what I was talking about. Someone has given you advice like this before, and you just wanted to scream at the walls until someone told them how dumb they were. You were too polite to do it yourself. Or too scared. Don't get me wrong. I've followed a lot of really, really amazing advice. But on a day like today, when you hear something that just makes you want to kick someone, you gotta share your feelings. You have to let the entire four people who read this know the problem with advice so that maybe it won't be as much of a problem. I really do like to hear what people have to say a lot of the time. Just remember, the advice is for the advisee, not the advisor. Don't always give the gift you want to get.
I was once told to give a person a gift you would like to receive. Although this works sometimes, it can really backfire on you. Same with advice. I'm sure you can imagine someone saying to themselves, "I'd love a gift card to this place! I bet they would too!" Then, in the excitement of your birthday or Hanukkah or graduation or something, you open up the envelope to find yet another gift card to a place you never shop at if you can avoid it. All I want is for someone to ask me what gift I want. I'll tell them this, "NOTHING. I don't NEED anything. If you have to ask, it won't be right. Your gift is nice, but is it thoughtful? Is it something I want? Or is it something you would want? I like Michaels, Barnes and Noble, music, H&M, American Apparel, Target. What about you? I don't like people to stare at me, or to touch me when I don't want to be touched. I'm not the same person as you." I don't want, or need the same presents, and I don't want, or need, the same advice.
I've gotten a lot of advice in just 18 years of existence. Some of it I've blown off, and others I have really taken to heart. A lot of the time, I wish I had taken some advice and not blown off others. How many times have you done something without asking for advice and regretted it? And how many times have you taken someones advice and wished you had never asked? For me, I feel like the amount of times are almost equal. So what am I supposed to do? Take shitty advice that gets me nowhere and makes me feel like no one, or not take anyones advice and end up the same way. Either way, I end up sitting in a semi-lit dorm room complaining to no one on a blog that four people read about absolutely nothing. Reading this is like watching a re-run of Seinfeld. I've figured it out, though; the advice was meant to be given to a younger, more vulnerable and foolish version of the person who gave me the advice in the first place. It wasn't meant for me. So then why do I take it? Is it human nature to need someone to tell you that what you are doing is right? Why should it matter so much? If I'm happy doing what I'm doing, why should I have to change just because someone told me some advice about it that I just had to take? What if I'm unhappy? Do I have to stick to what I'm doing because someone told me I should? That it would get better? I shouldn't. Not if I don't believe it.
So then the moral of the story is this: Don't give your old, idiotic self advice you wish you would have known fifteen, or even five years ago. Give the person who asked for the advice the advice that is just right for them. Think about their current situation, and about who they really are, not about your past personality that needed a push in the "right" direction. It might not be "right" for someone else. Don't give a person a present that was meant for you. Even if that present is just a few words that you think are helping them. They probably aren't. They are probably just making the person mad, or upset, or confused. Or they are reaffirming an idea that you didn't want them to, so your plan backfired anyway.
Yes, sometimes this isn't true. I've exaggerated quite a bit. But did I? Honestly? You knew exactly what I was talking about. Someone has given you advice like this before, and you just wanted to scream at the walls until someone told them how dumb they were. You were too polite to do it yourself. Or too scared. Don't get me wrong. I've followed a lot of really, really amazing advice. But on a day like today, when you hear something that just makes you want to kick someone, you gotta share your feelings. You have to let the entire four people who read this know the problem with advice so that maybe it won't be as much of a problem. I really do like to hear what people have to say a lot of the time. Just remember, the advice is for the advisee, not the advisor. Don't always give the gift you want to get.
Friday, September 21, 2012
The College Plague
Dorm life. I like to call it Dooms life. It's a gigantic cesspool of germs with little arms waiting to grasp your hand-sanatized hands and infect you with... the plague. My friend so kindly pointed out to me that no, I do not have the actual plague, but ya know what? I have The College Plague. It is a real thing. After I post this it will even be on the internet. And honestly, everything you read on the internet is real isn't it?
So basically, I went home this past weekend to do the Jew thing and celebrate Rosh Hashanah with my family. I thought it was an extra perk to escape the residence halls and buses full of coughing, sneezing, and snot wiped sleeves, literally everyone I saw was getting sick, so I headed home eagerly. My roommate had even just mentioned that she thought she might be coming down with something. Little did I know, I had not escaped a single damn thing. Sure, I had a few nice days of health and wellness. I went to the cider mill, painted my nails, babysit my cousins, but then, it started.
The New Year started Sunday night. I helped my aunt prepare her house for a few hours, got myself all pretty with my flowy striped dress and 40s style shoes, and then headed to the beautiful feast my family had prepared. I listened to my uncle lead one of our family's not-so-traditional traditional prayers, and chowed down on meat, chicken, World Famous Benny's Salad, honey cake, and chocolate chip cloud cookies. I talked with all of my out of town family and all of my practical neighbors. I was having a pretty great night. Then I helped my aunt clean up, and headed home for bed.
Turns out, it was a bad night. I just laid there for hours thinking, "how on earth did I eat that much? I feel terrible! I'm gonna be sick!" I ended up catching a few z's, but I woke up feeling just as bad as in the night. I laid around like a lazy bum all day, slept on and off, and coughed myself to silence. I couldn't set up for the second night, nor would anyone want me to handle their food, so I just sat and thought about how miserable I was.
At dinner I felt better though! I was like, "yeah! I rock! I guess I really did eat too much!", but I was wrong. I had some fun teaching my family celebrity, but again, I felt like crap the second I laid down. The next day was worse than before. Only I had work to do now. Feeling terrible, I eventually got myself a workin', and then headed back to college. I walked in to find that my roommate had a pharmacy on her shelf. She is not a drug addict, so this was strange, but I didn't think much of it. She probably would've told me if she was sick right? Nope. She came back and informed me that she was diagnosed with Strep. You know, the infection of the throat that makes you just want to die it hurts so badly? That's the one. I panicked! I did not want strep! I was already sick! But my mom, being all calm and collected, well, mostly just being a doctor, helped me figure out what to do to make myself feel better, and not catch strep... unless I already had it.
Didn't help. I'm still feeling sickly and sore and disgusting and terrible. I've gone through so many cough drops my mouth is permanently bright red, and I drink so much water I feel like I swallowed a pool. I'm more tired than Dorothy in a field of poppies. The amount of miserableness I have has led me to diagnose myself with the College Plague.
Trouble identifying whether or not you have the Plague? Here are a few easy ways to tell:
1. The amount of pain you feel in your throat is is comparable to someone throwing darts in your mouth.
2.You are coughing more than the occasional throat clearing or wrong tube swallowing.
3. You can't walk up steps or outside because it's hard to breathe.
4. You can hardly breathe just laying there doing nothing like a real college student.
5. You're sore all over.
6. You feel like the delicious dorm food is gonna make you sick.
7. You just want to go to sleep.
If you have any of these symptoms, please go to your health service provider or doctor for help. You do not want to remain in this state too long because no one will want to be with you because you are gross.
Do not get the College Plague. Wash your hands and use sanitizer often. Drink lots of water. And if you're worried! Grab some Emergen-C. I hear that helps. Or a gas mask if you're one of those types.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the way, I was originally going to write a post about the Michigan tradition of going to cider mills and leave out the sick part, but I was feeling gross so that happened instead. I know this was way less interesting and way more disgusting, so here is a little snippet of what that could have been:
This weekend I went home for Rosh Hashanah. It was a pretty good holiday filled with great people and great food, but the best part of the weekend, was the trip to the cider mill. Every Michiganian can tell you that it's not really fall until you head to your favorite cider mill and drink delicious fresh apple cider with warm donuts, and the occasional carmel apple, so I just had to go.---- Yup, that's it. Would've been nice. Oh well.
So basically, I went home this past weekend to do the Jew thing and celebrate Rosh Hashanah with my family. I thought it was an extra perk to escape the residence halls and buses full of coughing, sneezing, and snot wiped sleeves, literally everyone I saw was getting sick, so I headed home eagerly. My roommate had even just mentioned that she thought she might be coming down with something. Little did I know, I had not escaped a single damn thing. Sure, I had a few nice days of health and wellness. I went to the cider mill, painted my nails, babysit my cousins, but then, it started.
The New Year started Sunday night. I helped my aunt prepare her house for a few hours, got myself all pretty with my flowy striped dress and 40s style shoes, and then headed to the beautiful feast my family had prepared. I listened to my uncle lead one of our family's not-so-traditional traditional prayers, and chowed down on meat, chicken, World Famous Benny's Salad, honey cake, and chocolate chip cloud cookies. I talked with all of my out of town family and all of my practical neighbors. I was having a pretty great night. Then I helped my aunt clean up, and headed home for bed.
Turns out, it was a bad night. I just laid there for hours thinking, "how on earth did I eat that much? I feel terrible! I'm gonna be sick!" I ended up catching a few z's, but I woke up feeling just as bad as in the night. I laid around like a lazy bum all day, slept on and off, and coughed myself to silence. I couldn't set up for the second night, nor would anyone want me to handle their food, so I just sat and thought about how miserable I was.
At dinner I felt better though! I was like, "yeah! I rock! I guess I really did eat too much!", but I was wrong. I had some fun teaching my family celebrity, but again, I felt like crap the second I laid down. The next day was worse than before. Only I had work to do now. Feeling terrible, I eventually got myself a workin', and then headed back to college. I walked in to find that my roommate had a pharmacy on her shelf. She is not a drug addict, so this was strange, but I didn't think much of it. She probably would've told me if she was sick right? Nope. She came back and informed me that she was diagnosed with Strep. You know, the infection of the throat that makes you just want to die it hurts so badly? That's the one. I panicked! I did not want strep! I was already sick! But my mom, being all calm and collected, well, mostly just being a doctor, helped me figure out what to do to make myself feel better, and not catch strep... unless I already had it.
Didn't help. I'm still feeling sickly and sore and disgusting and terrible. I've gone through so many cough drops my mouth is permanently bright red, and I drink so much water I feel like I swallowed a pool. I'm more tired than Dorothy in a field of poppies. The amount of miserableness I have has led me to diagnose myself with the College Plague.
Trouble identifying whether or not you have the Plague? Here are a few easy ways to tell:
1. The amount of pain you feel in your throat is is comparable to someone throwing darts in your mouth.
2.You are coughing more than the occasional throat clearing or wrong tube swallowing.
3. You can't walk up steps or outside because it's hard to breathe.
4. You can hardly breathe just laying there doing nothing like a real college student.
5. You're sore all over.
6. You feel like the delicious dorm food is gonna make you sick.
7. You just want to go to sleep.
If you have any of these symptoms, please go to your health service provider or doctor for help. You do not want to remain in this state too long because no one will want to be with you because you are gross.
Do not get the College Plague. Wash your hands and use sanitizer often. Drink lots of water. And if you're worried! Grab some Emergen-C. I hear that helps. Or a gas mask if you're one of those types.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the way, I was originally going to write a post about the Michigan tradition of going to cider mills and leave out the sick part, but I was feeling gross so that happened instead. I know this was way less interesting and way more disgusting, so here is a little snippet of what that could have been:
This weekend I went home for Rosh Hashanah. It was a pretty good holiday filled with great people and great food, but the best part of the weekend, was the trip to the cider mill. Every Michiganian can tell you that it's not really fall until you head to your favorite cider mill and drink delicious fresh apple cider with warm donuts, and the occasional carmel apple, so I just had to go.---- Yup, that's it. Would've been nice. Oh well.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Lo Siento
So, feeling creative and all, I decided to redesign my blog. Let's be honest though, I am avoiding homework and sleep.
So basically this is an apology post. I thought the blue looked cool, but I did not apparently scroll as much as I should have. Why is there a picture of a bus on a desert road? I have been asking myself the same question, and here is my answer: I have absolutely no idea.
I'm going to change it back tomorrow when I'm not so sleepy, though, don't worry. I know you were all very concerned, but just know, I am sorry for the confusion. This is probably very strange to come from the girl without the niche, who can't really write, and who really has nothing to say. Enjoy the bus for a while though.
Sometimes change is good. But then again, sometimes it's not.
Night all.
So basically this is an apology post. I thought the blue looked cool, but I did not apparently scroll as much as I should have. Why is there a picture of a bus on a desert road? I have been asking myself the same question, and here is my answer: I have absolutely no idea.
I'm going to change it back tomorrow when I'm not so sleepy, though, don't worry. I know you were all very concerned, but just know, I am sorry for the confusion. This is probably very strange to come from the girl without the niche, who can't really write, and who really has nothing to say. Enjoy the bus for a while though.
Sometimes change is good. But then again, sometimes it's not.
Night all.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Norty the Nordster
Those of you in 2011-2012 APLit probably got very excited by this posts title, however, I have a new Norty to love and to hold. I bring him with me every week to class and many other places as well. He's very large and extremely old fashioned in his ways. His name, you might ask, is the Riverside Shakespeare Second Edition. So far he is in every way a lesser human being and book than Norton, but I am trying to work with what I've got.
Riverside isn't the only huge change in my life though.
Professor EB (I've been told that the letters are confusing, but it's too late to change now. Sorry.) is in no way similar to Mrs. T. First off, I'd like to describe him as looking like a mix between a rather large toad and the Sicilian from the Princess Bride. I know! Inconceivable! He even talks like him, as he is from Italy (I think). Although he did say something about chutzpah, so who really knows. He also spits when he speaks, especially when he dramatically exclaims lines from some of Hamlet's best soliloquies. Honestly though, he is great. I think he knows every line from every work of William Shakespeare. He likes to reread sections aloud, but only very, very dramatically. I'm saying this all after one class, so I don't know how accurate this will be later, but I think I'll really like him.
Also, I expect that after this class I will feel very close to Mr. William Shakespeare, so I plan to switch to calling him Will. I'm extremely excited for that day. I know that is sort of weird, but hey! A girl's got to look forward to something, doesn't she?
Oh! Please post ideas for good songs to sing at an a cappella audition! I've never sung for other people before and I'm extremely nervous. Everyone cross your fingers and toes that I get in!
Riverside isn't the only huge change in my life though.
Professor EB (I've been told that the letters are confusing, but it's too late to change now. Sorry.) is in no way similar to Mrs. T. First off, I'd like to describe him as looking like a mix between a rather large toad and the Sicilian from the Princess Bride. I know! Inconceivable! He even talks like him, as he is from Italy (I think). Although he did say something about chutzpah, so who really knows. He also spits when he speaks, especially when he dramatically exclaims lines from some of Hamlet's best soliloquies. Honestly though, he is great. I think he knows every line from every work of William Shakespeare. He likes to reread sections aloud, but only very, very dramatically. I'm saying this all after one class, so I don't know how accurate this will be later, but I think I'll really like him.
Also, I expect that after this class I will feel very close to Mr. William Shakespeare, so I plan to switch to calling him Will. I'm extremely excited for that day. I know that is sort of weird, but hey! A girl's got to look forward to something, doesn't she?
Oh! Please post ideas for good songs to sing at an a cappella audition! I've never sung for other people before and I'm extremely nervous. Everyone cross your fingers and toes that I get in!
Monday, September 10, 2012
Teach Me How to Boogie
I made some new friends!!! Hooray for me! I was beginning to think that would never happen, but I guess that's the perks of being forced into three Spanish Lunch Tables a week. Though I can't reveal their names, I will tell you that three four out of five begin with the letter J, and one C.
They are great guys though. Somehow, with my brilliant expertise and coaxing, I convinced them to go swing dancing with my friends N, R, K, A, and me. I felt very proud of my mad convincing skills, until I realized how little fun our new friends were having. I guess learning swing in a boiling hot dance room with sweat flying in the air just isn't for everyone. Go figure?
So my new friends decided to take a break and walk outside in the rain to cool off. Seeing as I had ten random people's sweat on me in addition to my own, I had to join them. We found this really cool book store with this old door with those classic gold/brass doorknobs. Opening the great big door was like opening an old book itself. All the novels inside were rare or used, so they had that old-new-book feel to them. The coolest thing, though, was the old man that worked there. He looked like Mr. Rogers, or that old guy from Up, and knew everything about the store. I think I'll spend hours in that tiny place.
So after we went swinging, we went back to my room and planned the next morning's waffle party before the big game! I hate football, but oh well. I guess it's an experience to go? Section 26 isn't bad! But row 94 definitely isn't great... Plus I was with my friends! After half time I rushed back from the game, grabbed my stuff and headed home with my cousin F for her sister's sweet 16. What a hectic day that was. Unfortunately, I had to leave early though, but the reason was good I believe. I had tickets with my parents to Billy Elliot with my parents! That is one of my favorite shows, so of course I had to go. After that, I just wanted to tap dance. Maybe that'll be my next sweaty dance class.
I spent the next day with my mom and two students who went to Ecuador with us in March. I love seeing them so I was ecstatic when I walked in my family room and saw them sitting on the floor. I'm not sure they knew how happy I was, but it pretty much made my day.
After returning to school with my brother M, I found myself on the floor surrounded by a heaping pile of homework that I somehow convinced myself I could put off until Sunday night. There I go being an excellent convincer again!
Today I went to my first day of history. The intimidation I felt as I stood outside room 2011 was crazy. After sitting down to find myself in a class full of juniors, seniors, and super seniors, I began questioning whether or not I should be there. As the only freshman, I found myself not really speaking and basically burrowing myself into unnecessary notes. The discussion was cool, but the longer I sat there, the more I wondered if the class was for me. Honestly, I'm still unsure. Comment with thoughts that may help me decide!
Tomorrow I have my first day of Shakespeare class! I'm extremely excited, but the version of Hamlet I was directed to watch made me actually dislike my favorite story. Hopefully the discussion, and my notes from last year, will rekindle the fire that slowly went out as I watched four hours of Derek Jacobi whine his life away.
Sorry this post is anything but exciting. I promise I'm trying.
As I told my favorite mentor E, I hope you all had a good Monday! Have a good week everyone!
They are great guys though. Somehow, with my brilliant expertise and coaxing, I convinced them to go swing dancing with my friends N, R, K, A, and me. I felt very proud of my mad convincing skills, until I realized how little fun our new friends were having. I guess learning swing in a boiling hot dance room with sweat flying in the air just isn't for everyone. Go figure?
So my new friends decided to take a break and walk outside in the rain to cool off. Seeing as I had ten random people's sweat on me in addition to my own, I had to join them. We found this really cool book store with this old door with those classic gold/brass doorknobs. Opening the great big door was like opening an old book itself. All the novels inside were rare or used, so they had that old-new-book feel to them. The coolest thing, though, was the old man that worked there. He looked like Mr. Rogers, or that old guy from Up, and knew everything about the store. I think I'll spend hours in that tiny place.
So after we went swinging, we went back to my room and planned the next morning's waffle party before the big game! I hate football, but oh well. I guess it's an experience to go? Section 26 isn't bad! But row 94 definitely isn't great... Plus I was with my friends! After half time I rushed back from the game, grabbed my stuff and headed home with my cousin F for her sister's sweet 16. What a hectic day that was. Unfortunately, I had to leave early though, but the reason was good I believe. I had tickets with my parents to Billy Elliot with my parents! That is one of my favorite shows, so of course I had to go. After that, I just wanted to tap dance. Maybe that'll be my next sweaty dance class.
I spent the next day with my mom and two students who went to Ecuador with us in March. I love seeing them so I was ecstatic when I walked in my family room and saw them sitting on the floor. I'm not sure they knew how happy I was, but it pretty much made my day.
After returning to school with my brother M, I found myself on the floor surrounded by a heaping pile of homework that I somehow convinced myself I could put off until Sunday night. There I go being an excellent convincer again!
Today I went to my first day of history. The intimidation I felt as I stood outside room 2011 was crazy. After sitting down to find myself in a class full of juniors, seniors, and super seniors, I began questioning whether or not I should be there. As the only freshman, I found myself not really speaking and basically burrowing myself into unnecessary notes. The discussion was cool, but the longer I sat there, the more I wondered if the class was for me. Honestly, I'm still unsure. Comment with thoughts that may help me decide!
Tomorrow I have my first day of Shakespeare class! I'm extremely excited, but the version of Hamlet I was directed to watch made me actually dislike my favorite story. Hopefully the discussion, and my notes from last year, will rekindle the fire that slowly went out as I watched four hours of Derek Jacobi whine his life away.
Sorry this post is anything but exciting. I promise I'm trying.
As I told my favorite mentor E, I hope you all had a good Monday! Have a good week everyone!
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Sometimes a Birds Just Got to Leave the Nest
To my very few followers who need a little inspiration.
This is what true friendship really is. I love this girl more than worms loves apples and more than zombies love flesh. More than the doctor loves time travel and more than shampoo loves hair. Thanks for the shout-out AGS!!!! You're absolutely amazing. I love, love, love the blog.
140 Characters or More: The Heroic Tale of Hildalgo:
This is what true friendship really is. I love this girl more than worms loves apples and more than zombies love flesh. More than the doctor loves time travel and more than shampoo loves hair. Thanks for the shout-out AGS!!!! You're absolutely amazing. I love, love, love the blog.
140 Characters or More: The Heroic Tale of Hildalgo:
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
It's Official
It's official. I'm a college student.
I had my first college class today, which was crazy intense. I think I might actually die in my Intensive Spanish 1 Lecture. It's crazy! I did buy Harry Potter in Spanish hoping it would help me learn with something I like to read. Maybe it'll work. However, I think I'll probably learn the material, which is good. I do, however, like my Spanish Discussion right after. It should be a lot of fun. But hearing "make a circle!" in Dennison 216 rather than Berkley 121 is a sad, sad thing. It made me feel very homesick for BHS, which was something I never thought I'd say. No offense to Berkley. After hearing my course load for just one class, though, no matter how any times you hear Mr. P say "welcome to Berkley University!", high school will never be college. Oy to the vey.
After class I walked down the drizzly streets of A^2 with my friend N from home, and two new friends A and J. We went and got our green books (environmentally friendly blue books) and course packs for Español. [If I'm writing in a green book, which is like a blue book, for class, does that mean I can step on that blasted M everyone keeps pulling me away from?] Then we went to lunch and I got french toast instead of french fries by accident. Who puts french toast next to chicken anyways? After, I went back to my room to read some Hamlet and start my Spanish, but instead I fell asleep. Figures. I couldn't sleep last night; I must've had to catch up. Nerves? Heat? Who knows? Oh! Then I found my way to UHS! All on my own! It was great! I turned in the form I was supposed to submit 30 days before class started (oops), and then I headed back to my room. Eventually I went and met some friends at Mo-jo with my roommate L. The food there was pretty good so that's good to know for future hungry excursions. I also had a hall meeting tonight which took me 15 minutes to get to (I got lost in my own dorm.). In case you didn't know, if guys go into the girls bathroom they could be put onto the sex offenders list. So don't do that. Also, it is dangerous to have snowball fights between dorms. So don't do that either. I was unaware of these facts, so of course I am thankful for our little suare. When our RAs asked us what we expected from each other and our dorm, we only had one glaring expectation. As a hall, all of us girls expect toilet paper in the many bathrooms we have access to. So far, starting last night and continuing on today, that expectation has not been met. Gross. At a certain point, you can't even spare a square.
Oh! I also was priveleged enough to skype with the beautiful and amazing AGS tonight! A long overdue chat that was absolutely perfect!
What is the main idea of this post? I don't really know, but it was kinda interesting to read right? At least I'm somewhat entertaining. Better than checking your facebook newsfeed and twitter timeline a million times with no change.
Oh! And always remember: "Hit the ground running!"
I had my first college class today, which was crazy intense. I think I might actually die in my Intensive Spanish 1 Lecture. It's crazy! I did buy Harry Potter in Spanish hoping it would help me learn with something I like to read. Maybe it'll work. However, I think I'll probably learn the material, which is good. I do, however, like my Spanish Discussion right after. It should be a lot of fun. But hearing "make a circle!" in Dennison 216 rather than Berkley 121 is a sad, sad thing. It made me feel very homesick for BHS, which was something I never thought I'd say. No offense to Berkley. After hearing my course load for just one class, though, no matter how any times you hear Mr. P say "welcome to Berkley University!", high school will never be college. Oy to the vey.
After class I walked down the drizzly streets of A^2 with my friend N from home, and two new friends A and J. We went and got our green books (environmentally friendly blue books) and course packs for Español. [If I'm writing in a green book, which is like a blue book, for class, does that mean I can step on that blasted M everyone keeps pulling me away from?] Then we went to lunch and I got french toast instead of french fries by accident. Who puts french toast next to chicken anyways? After, I went back to my room to read some Hamlet and start my Spanish, but instead I fell asleep. Figures. I couldn't sleep last night; I must've had to catch up. Nerves? Heat? Who knows? Oh! Then I found my way to UHS! All on my own! It was great! I turned in the form I was supposed to submit 30 days before class started (oops), and then I headed back to my room. Eventually I went and met some friends at Mo-jo with my roommate L. The food there was pretty good so that's good to know for future hungry excursions. I also had a hall meeting tonight which took me 15 minutes to get to (I got lost in my own dorm.). In case you didn't know, if guys go into the girls bathroom they could be put onto the sex offenders list. So don't do that. Also, it is dangerous to have snowball fights between dorms. So don't do that either. I was unaware of these facts, so of course I am thankful for our little suare. When our RAs asked us what we expected from each other and our dorm, we only had one glaring expectation. As a hall, all of us girls expect toilet paper in the many bathrooms we have access to. So far, starting last night and continuing on today, that expectation has not been met. Gross. At a certain point, you can't even spare a square.
Oh! I also was priveleged enough to skype with the beautiful and amazing AGS tonight! A long overdue chat that was absolutely perfect!
What is the main idea of this post? I don't really know, but it was kinda interesting to read right? At least I'm somewhat entertaining. Better than checking your facebook newsfeed and twitter timeline a million times with no change.
Oh! And always remember: "Hit the ground running!"
Monday, September 3, 2012
93 Million Miles... Or Maybe Just 33
So last night my amazing friend M came up (it's really down, but who says "came down"?) with her family to visit her sister L. They so graciously offered to take me to the Olive Garden, and I, being a college student, had to accept any offers for good food.
Then I fought back and forth about whether or not I should stop home for the night and stay until today. I decided to, then not to, then last second to again. If anything I wanted to see my friend L who was back from college for Labor Day, and I wanted to experience Arts Beats and Eats! I only ended up seeing my friend, who cares if my old Klezmer band was playing? She is more important.
But of course, anytime you do something in college, someone has an opinion about it. I cannot tell you how many text messages, phone calls, and advice conversations I found myself in. "I can't believe you went home the first weekend!" "You have to stay and get acclimated!" "Do you even know where your classes are?" Anytime someone said something I just wanted to smack them. I know they are just trying to be helpful, but come on, all I wanted to do was come home! Is that such a crime?
After getting home I went to talked with my mommy and daddy for a while, had the little amount of laundry I had to bring home washed, and watched the Great Escape at my cousin Z's house with her friend A/Z. Interesting show I must say. After returning home, I went to bed and began reading my first college assignment ever: Hamlet!
I was extremely excited because I read Hamlet my Senior year of High School in my Norty with one of my favorite teachers of all time! Mrs. T definitely taught about the poor questioning boy very well, so I feel very prepared. Hell yeah! I'm ahead of the game!
Today I woke up and went next door to my aunt and uncles house. The greeting from my little cousin S was perfect! She ran up and gave me the biggest hug ever and about a 50 kisses on the cheek. My other cousins apparently didn't know I had left. Then I went back home, chilled with L, went to Rite Aid with my mom, and back to my aunt and uncles. They had a bunch of people over so it was a lot of fun. Then I drove back here, to college! Ahh! I'm still in shock that I'm here.
After moving some more clothes and other crap in, I went to a free showing of Casablanca, which was great, and had a cheese and cracker party in my friend C's dorm room. Very classy if I do say so myself. Now I'm in bed thinking about starting classes tomorrow. It is crazy weird to think that I am going to college classes at 9 in the morning TOMORROW!? How on Earth did that happen? I guess I should go to sleep so that I can be all fresh for the morning.
Good night all! Good luck to anyone starting classes tomorrow!
P.S. The title of this post refers to my traveling the 33 miles home and the lyrics in Jason Mraz's song 93 Million Miles, "you can always come back home". If you haven't heard it, listen because it's great.
Then I fought back and forth about whether or not I should stop home for the night and stay until today. I decided to, then not to, then last second to again. If anything I wanted to see my friend L who was back from college for Labor Day, and I wanted to experience Arts Beats and Eats! I only ended up seeing my friend, who cares if my old Klezmer band was playing? She is more important.
But of course, anytime you do something in college, someone has an opinion about it. I cannot tell you how many text messages, phone calls, and advice conversations I found myself in. "I can't believe you went home the first weekend!" "You have to stay and get acclimated!" "Do you even know where your classes are?" Anytime someone said something I just wanted to smack them. I know they are just trying to be helpful, but come on, all I wanted to do was come home! Is that such a crime?
After getting home I went to talked with my mommy and daddy for a while, had the little amount of laundry I had to bring home washed, and watched the Great Escape at my cousin Z's house with her friend A/Z. Interesting show I must say. After returning home, I went to bed and began reading my first college assignment ever: Hamlet!
I was extremely excited because I read Hamlet my Senior year of High School in my Norty with one of my favorite teachers of all time! Mrs. T definitely taught about the poor questioning boy very well, so I feel very prepared. Hell yeah! I'm ahead of the game!
Today I woke up and went next door to my aunt and uncles house. The greeting from my little cousin S was perfect! She ran up and gave me the biggest hug ever and about a 50 kisses on the cheek. My other cousins apparently didn't know I had left. Then I went back home, chilled with L, went to Rite Aid with my mom, and back to my aunt and uncles. They had a bunch of people over so it was a lot of fun. Then I drove back here, to college! Ahh! I'm still in shock that I'm here.
After moving some more clothes and other crap in, I went to a free showing of Casablanca, which was great, and had a cheese and cracker party in my friend C's dorm room. Very classy if I do say so myself. Now I'm in bed thinking about starting classes tomorrow. It is crazy weird to think that I am going to college classes at 9 in the morning TOMORROW!? How on Earth did that happen? I guess I should go to sleep so that I can be all fresh for the morning.
Good night all! Good luck to anyone starting classes tomorrow!
P.S. The title of this post refers to my traveling the 33 miles home and the lyrics in Jason Mraz's song 93 Million Miles, "you can always come back home". If you haven't heard it, listen because it's great.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
I'm a True Blue
So apparently I'm supposed to bleed maize and blue at this place? At least that's what they tell me I'm supposed to do.
Also, I've discovered that when someone randomly, or not so randomly, shouts "GO!!!!", I am expected to shout back "BLUE!!!!!!!". Now I understand that this is a tradition like any other, but walking to a stadium and having a stranger yell "GO!" at you is very concerning. I thought I had to leave or something?
Another thing I have learned: people stand at football games... even football games that are happening in Texas. Why would we need to stand while we watch Michigan lose to Alabama on a big screen TV in the Big House? The team isn't even there? The coaches aren't even there. The band isn't even there? Why??
Semi-funny story about the band today, though. My friend K's boyfriend N plays trumpet in the marching band. That means he has to practice nine hours a day, every day, in order to play at games. He was also honored today with the position of leading the trumpet section. This is huge because, like me, he is just a Freshman and Freshman do not usually lead their sections. K wanted to support the musical master, so she texted him and asked what time we should go to the stadium to see him. He told her 50 minutes before the game, during the halftime show, and after we lost and that we should go see slash hear him play. So we went. Turns out, the band was in Texas. We would've never been able to hear him play because that stuff is never on television! We sat at a crowded welcome week event for way longer than necessary, all because my friend thought the random "on a plane" text message she got wasn't real. The kid sends a lot of obscure messages that don't mean anything, but this wasn't one. We ended up getting a free shirt (plus side), leaving, and eating at Pizza Bob's instead. Then we went back to my dorm and listened to oldies fairly loudly while dancing and cutting yellow T-shirts. However, I did finally meet some people in my hall! Music really does draw them in, even Marvin Gaye and Jackson Five.
FYI, the title has to do with the free shirt. I'm supposed to stay in the blue, and therefore be a "true blue" like Dory. I bet the people handing out the shirts were anything but alcohol free, but hey, it was a free shirt. How could I resist?
Also, I've discovered that when someone randomly, or not so randomly, shouts "GO!!!!", I am expected to shout back "BLUE!!!!!!!". Now I understand that this is a tradition like any other, but walking to a stadium and having a stranger yell "GO!" at you is very concerning. I thought I had to leave or something?
Another thing I have learned: people stand at football games... even football games that are happening in Texas. Why would we need to stand while we watch Michigan lose to Alabama on a big screen TV in the Big House? The team isn't even there? The coaches aren't even there. The band isn't even there? Why??
Semi-funny story about the band today, though. My friend K's boyfriend N plays trumpet in the marching band. That means he has to practice nine hours a day, every day, in order to play at games. He was also honored today with the position of leading the trumpet section. This is huge because, like me, he is just a Freshman and Freshman do not usually lead their sections. K wanted to support the musical master, so she texted him and asked what time we should go to the stadium to see him. He told her 50 minutes before the game, during the halftime show, and after we lost and that we should go see slash hear him play. So we went. Turns out, the band was in Texas. We would've never been able to hear him play because that stuff is never on television! We sat at a crowded welcome week event for way longer than necessary, all because my friend thought the random "on a plane" text message she got wasn't real. The kid sends a lot of obscure messages that don't mean anything, but this wasn't one. We ended up getting a free shirt (plus side), leaving, and eating at Pizza Bob's instead. Then we went back to my dorm and listened to oldies fairly loudly while dancing and cutting yellow T-shirts. However, I did finally meet some people in my hall! Music really does draw them in, even Marvin Gaye and Jackson Five.
FYI, the title has to do with the free shirt. I'm supposed to stay in the blue, and therefore be a "true blue" like Dory. I bet the people handing out the shirts were anything but alcohol free, but hey, it was a free shirt. How could I resist?
Friday, August 31, 2012
She's Got Spirit
So now I'm at college playing pretend adult and it is freakin' weird.
I spent my first full day in this big little community and now I'll spend my second night. Tonight will be the first time my roommate stays here (it's her third night) so we are still working out all those things that roommates often have to work out. It's going to be a very interesting year.
Today, I flipped my bed upside down with all my friends (thank you!), I went to Pizza House (tried the feta bread, don't worry), watched tv (awkward.) in my friends's dorm mansion, ate spaghetti, and went to Meijer Mania. That was my most hectic and crowded trip to Meijer(s), but at least I got to see my one friend J from orientation for a little! He asked me to join his band then, but I guess the offers off the table now. We entered Meijer(s) to the happy claps and cheers of peppy people from the University.
This brings me to the real topic of this post today. Get ready! It's going to be everything you imagine and maybe a little more: random nothingness that didn't need to be written about, and wasn't written well. Oops. Well anyways...
One thing I have noticed while I am here is that everyone has big smiles on their faces, nice maize and blue clothing, and are very much "party people". I only know a few people who aren't so spirited, and who don't like to party, and I've known half of them since middle school. They never really had spirit. However, now it is shoved in front of us and I guess it's time to act like we care. VCR, C, and I don't really know how to go about doing this, since we really don't care that much (the big blue M staring me in the face when I arrived made me very uncomfortable) (I even brought my state yoga pants) but I guess we'll take a few pointers. My friends at other schools are very into the sequin and jazz hands that go along with being spirited, but it's just not our thing.
Oh well. Comment with any tips on how to be school spirited without having to really do anything or pay for anything.
I spent my first full day in this big little community and now I'll spend my second night. Tonight will be the first time my roommate stays here (it's her third night) so we are still working out all those things that roommates often have to work out. It's going to be a very interesting year.
Today, I flipped my bed upside down with all my friends (thank you!), I went to Pizza House (tried the feta bread, don't worry), watched tv (awkward.) in my friends's dorm mansion, ate spaghetti, and went to Meijer Mania. That was my most hectic and crowded trip to Meijer(s), but at least I got to see my one friend J from orientation for a little! He asked me to join his band then, but I guess the offers off the table now. We entered Meijer(s) to the happy claps and cheers of peppy people from the University.
This brings me to the real topic of this post today. Get ready! It's going to be everything you imagine and maybe a little more: random nothingness that didn't need to be written about, and wasn't written well. Oops. Well anyways...
One thing I have noticed while I am here is that everyone has big smiles on their faces, nice maize and blue clothing, and are very much "party people". I only know a few people who aren't so spirited, and who don't like to party, and I've known half of them since middle school. They never really had spirit. However, now it is shoved in front of us and I guess it's time to act like we care. VCR, C, and I don't really know how to go about doing this, since we really don't care that much (the big blue M staring me in the face when I arrived made me very uncomfortable) (I even brought my state yoga pants) but I guess we'll take a few pointers. My friends at other schools are very into the sequin and jazz hands that go along with being spirited, but it's just not our thing.
Oh well. Comment with any tips on how to be school spirited without having to really do anything or pay for anything.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Firsts
Tonight is my first night in my dorm room.
I moved in yesterday but was lucky enough to come home for Jason Mraz's concert with my brother, his friend, and my friend. Row D! a,b,c,D!! It was amazing in case you were wondering. Christina Perri opened and she was great too, just by the way.
However now I'm back to my dorm room laying on top of my bed. Being under the covers, or even just the sheets, would cause any creature, cold or warm blooded, to die of heat. I came back with some things I forgot at home, but obviously, I still forgot some. The worst part is though, I forgot the most important thing of all at home. No, not my phone or my computer or chargers. Not my bike or batteries or funk night clothes. Actually, that stuff was forgotten, but is in no way important. I forgot my nunnies. In other words, I forgot my safety blankets. (I really hate that term: "safety blanket". I find it appalling. It's not like I don't feel safe without them, but they are mine and they should be here for my first night at college! It's just wrong without them! Almost everyone has one, and if they don't they have a safety blanket equivalent, so why is "safety blanket" the accepted term if it is just a blanket to everyone else?)
So tonight is a night of firsts. It is my first night at college, in my dorm room, on my dorm bed, across from two bathrooms-- college. It is also my first night for as long as I can remember without my nunnies, which is the worst.
Oh and it is my first night at college without Sugar. I miss sleeping with my puppy. She is like the living nunnie!
My advice to you: Double check your suitcase, duffel bag, or back pack. Otherwise, you may forget something you really don't want to, and you may really regret it. Oh and make accurate lists. Nunnies were not included in mine (I thought it went without saying to bring them).
That's all for my dorm adventures of the night. Maybe it'll get more interesting, maybe I'll like it more. For now, it's really just college, and I really just want my nunnies.
I moved in yesterday but was lucky enough to come home for Jason Mraz's concert with my brother, his friend, and my friend. Row D! a,b,c,D!! It was amazing in case you were wondering. Christina Perri opened and she was great too, just by the way.
However now I'm back to my dorm room laying on top of my bed. Being under the covers, or even just the sheets, would cause any creature, cold or warm blooded, to die of heat. I came back with some things I forgot at home, but obviously, I still forgot some. The worst part is though, I forgot the most important thing of all at home. No, not my phone or my computer or chargers. Not my bike or batteries or funk night clothes. Actually, that stuff was forgotten, but is in no way important. I forgot my nunnies. In other words, I forgot my safety blankets. (I really hate that term: "safety blanket". I find it appalling. It's not like I don't feel safe without them, but they are mine and they should be here for my first night at college! It's just wrong without them! Almost everyone has one, and if they don't they have a safety blanket equivalent, so why is "safety blanket" the accepted term if it is just a blanket to everyone else?)
So tonight is a night of firsts. It is my first night at college, in my dorm room, on my dorm bed, across from two bathrooms-- college. It is also my first night for as long as I can remember without my nunnies, which is the worst.
Oh and it is my first night at college without Sugar. I miss sleeping with my puppy. She is like the living nunnie!
My advice to you: Double check your suitcase, duffel bag, or back pack. Otherwise, you may forget something you really don't want to, and you may really regret it. Oh and make accurate lists. Nunnies were not included in mine (I thought it went without saying to bring them).
That's all for my dorm adventures of the night. Maybe it'll get more interesting, maybe I'll like it more. For now, it's really just college, and I really just want my nunnies.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Crying
As I prepare for my life after High School I realize I've been doing a lot of crying.
Some of those tears fall because I know how great my life has been and I am so unconditionally grateful. Other tears come from that pit in my stomach filled with fear at what's still to come. Learning about myself sounds scarier than meeting a ghost, or even a spider. And others still come from saying good bye to all the people I am used to seeing everyday, like my teachers, babysit-ees, best friends, ridiculous family, oh and my puppy, Sugar. I guess good bye isn't right, it's never good bye. It's just see you soon, or you'll be in my heart. Cheesy right? Hey, I'm an emotional wreck, give me a break!
So High School was great.
I had a few amazing teachers and a bunch of spectacular friends. I could sit in class for 90 minutes, or 61, and it would feel like five. I had the privilege of having excellent teachers multiple years in a row. It rocked! How else would I know when to use a comma, or how to use my TI? The only time during the Senior Walk that I cried was when I left them.
As for my friends: we could do absolutely nothing and still have fun. We could laugh at ourselves, take endless photo-booth pictures, dye our hair every color under the sea (Except green. No one liked green.), watch Shang sing, and porch sit every night. Hugging them good bye was like an explosion of Old Faithful, there was that much water.
A lot of the tears of fright that come with starting a new journey, and saying good bye to the path I just traveled for so long, sting a lot more than the ones that come along with happy memories from High School and before. I realize that I'm not the first one in the world to go to college. Not hardly. I'm not even the first one in my family, and I'm not even going that far (now those people are the real brave ones). I'm just Hannah. The nervous kid who hates change and is afraid of the unknown. I admitted it so that means I'm moving forward right? Whatever. I AM moving forward. I always will be. Maybe now I'll start getting excited. Everyone else is. Not that I'm trying to conform or anything, but it would be nice to trade a little of this fear for some happiness and excitement.
Everyone says it's going to be great. Part of me knows that's true. It doesn't really matter though. The tears keep on falling, and until I move Wednesday, I don't think they are going to stop. Ain't nothing wrong with a little crying.
Some of those tears fall because I know how great my life has been and I am so unconditionally grateful. Other tears come from that pit in my stomach filled with fear at what's still to come. Learning about myself sounds scarier than meeting a ghost, or even a spider. And others still come from saying good bye to all the people I am used to seeing everyday, like my teachers, babysit-ees, best friends, ridiculous family, oh and my puppy, Sugar. I guess good bye isn't right, it's never good bye. It's just see you soon, or you'll be in my heart. Cheesy right? Hey, I'm an emotional wreck, give me a break!
So High School was great.
I had a few amazing teachers and a bunch of spectacular friends. I could sit in class for 90 minutes, or 61, and it would feel like five. I had the privilege of having excellent teachers multiple years in a row. It rocked! How else would I know when to use a comma, or how to use my TI? The only time during the Senior Walk that I cried was when I left them.
As for my friends: we could do absolutely nothing and still have fun. We could laugh at ourselves, take endless photo-booth pictures, dye our hair every color under the sea (Except green. No one liked green.), watch Shang sing, and porch sit every night. Hugging them good bye was like an explosion of Old Faithful, there was that much water.
A lot of the tears of fright that come with starting a new journey, and saying good bye to the path I just traveled for so long, sting a lot more than the ones that come along with happy memories from High School and before. I realize that I'm not the first one in the world to go to college. Not hardly. I'm not even the first one in my family, and I'm not even going that far (now those people are the real brave ones). I'm just Hannah. The nervous kid who hates change and is afraid of the unknown. I admitted it so that means I'm moving forward right? Whatever. I AM moving forward. I always will be. Maybe now I'll start getting excited. Everyone else is. Not that I'm trying to conform or anything, but it would be nice to trade a little of this fear for some happiness and excitement.
Everyone says it's going to be great. Part of me knows that's true. It doesn't really matter though. The tears keep on falling, and until I move Wednesday, I don't think they are going to stop. Ain't nothing wrong with a little crying.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Little Trees
You know how when you were younger you would come home from school hungrier than Chris McCandless, just begging to be fed by your mom, dad, bubby, zadie, sister, brother, babysitter, whoever? I know none of us were actually hungrier than McCandless, but when you're seven you really felt like it didn't you? Well, we all had our favorite snacks, but sometimes, day after day of the yummy deliciousness, we got tired of it. That's what happened to me. Broccoli was my killer food. I really did like it at one point, even the cooked kind. I remember feeling like a giant chowing down on my own little forest. However, after my mommy cooked it for me as my healthy snack, or green side-dish, enough, I really stopped enjoying the tiny trees. I just lost the taste for broccoli and ended up finding it practically inedible. I know this post isn't exactly the most interesting thing in the world, but I figured I'd get the ball rolling, dip my feet in the water if you will. Comment with any foods you stopped liking after overuse. I know I'm not alone with this. Also, I'd like to thank one of my favorite people, D, for the idea to write about this crazy food... and pogo sticks, which are a fantastically fun children's toy by the way.
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