Choice #1
Day 1
Today my feet do not feel well. The swelling has increased a lot. I don’t know if my feet can stretch much father! What’s even more gross than the swelling is that under the skin it looks like someone put jello there. Every time I take a step the top of my foot jiggles. It is so nasty! I had to show Andrew this, so I pinged my foot a few times. It grossed him out so much that he turned a little green around the ears. I have to admit that was funny.
But for the over all look my feet look like normal feet, just very swollen. I currently don’t have ankles, and if the swelling gets any worse my stub toes will disappear. I hope it doesn’t get that bad.
Day 2
Boy was I wrong about my feet not being able to stretch much farther. My feet look double the size of yesterday! How can this be? Did I retain a lot of yesterday’s fluid instead of getting rid of it, and then add more today? I don’t fully understand. At least my little toes didn’t disappear like I thought they would.
What I do know though is that my feet hurt the most they have during my entire pregnancy. I don’t know if I can handle another day of jello feet. I could barely get my shoes on today and the ones I’m currently wearing are a size and a half to bigger than my usual shoes! I hope the swelling will go away permanently after Aidan is born so I don’t have to buy a new shoe size. I don’t want to be like some ladies who have to go out and buy all new shoes because their feet didn’t shrink. Oh, God I don’t want that to happen.
Day 3
My feet have hardly swollen at all today. YES! The jello look is gone too! I don’t know exactly what I did different today besides all the walking. I had read a while ago that walking will decrease fluid retention, but I hadn’t been doing it because it made my feet hurt. Go figure, huh? But walking today had the opposite affect. After all that walking my feet actually look normal! I haven’t been able to say that in months! Especially after yesterday. I didn’t think the swelling would go down. Especially not over night! Maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to worry about buying a new shoe collection. But, oh well. My feet feel great, and I can only hope they feel this good tomorrow.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
week 15, #2
Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired.
Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat.
Even the rich are hungry for love, for being cared for, for being wanted, for having someone to call their own.
Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.
Good works are links that form a chain of love.
I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.
(quotes from Mother Theresa)
Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat.
Even the rich are hungry for love, for being cared for, for being wanted, for having someone to call their own.
Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.
Good works are links that form a chain of love.
I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.
(quotes from Mother Theresa)
week 15, #1
Self-preservation is the first law of nature.
Samuel Butler
But…
When we quit thinking primarily about ourselves and our own self-preservation, we undergo a truly heroic transformation of consciousness.
Joseph Campbell
As a matter of self-preservation, a man needs good friends or ardent enemies, for the former instruct him and the latter take him to task.
Diogenes
He was gifted with the sly, sharp instinct for self-preservation that passes for wisdom among the rich.
Evelyn Waugh
An insatiable appetite for glory leads to sacrifice and death, but innate instinct leads to self-preservation and life.
Jose Marti
All generalizations are false, including this one.
Mark Twain
Samuel Butler
But…
When we quit thinking primarily about ourselves and our own self-preservation, we undergo a truly heroic transformation of consciousness.
Joseph Campbell
As a matter of self-preservation, a man needs good friends or ardent enemies, for the former instruct him and the latter take him to task.
Diogenes
He was gifted with the sly, sharp instinct for self-preservation that passes for wisdom among the rich.
Evelyn Waugh
An insatiable appetite for glory leads to sacrifice and death, but innate instinct leads to self-preservation and life.
Jose Marti
All generalizations are false, including this one.
Mark Twain
week 14
“I have set out some snacks and drinks. You can help yourselves to these. Also, the bathrooms are right across the hall if you need to use them,” Denise said to the class. Denise had just led us through the first half of our birthing class, our first one. The class was running smoothly for its size, eight pregnant woman and their helpers. Denise, our teacher, had just let us have break which was good because I was starving. The last time I had eaten was at 2:00 p.m., so with 8:30 p.m. rolling around I was ready to start chewing a whole in the metal tables.
When everybody got up there seemed to be a swarm for the snacks. I sat in my seat next to my husband Andrew as all the pregnant woman attacked the food tray of cheese and grapes. They all talked giddily about what they were craving while they prepared their plates. I could not get up out of my seat. I watched the woman attack that food tray like a pack of lioness attacking a defenseless gazelle who strayed away from the herd. That tray didn’t stand a chance.
“Are you going to get something to eat?” Andrew asked me. He knew I was starving. He had listened to my stomach chit-chat with us all through my Health, Safety and Nutrition class. But I couldn’t get my self to answer him. I just sat in my seat watching the woman work that tray. I wondered what would happen to a stray limb if the woman got a hold of it during their feeding frenzy. Andrew glanced over at the other woman, then back at me. “You don’t have to worry. If one of them tries to take your arm I’ll bite them.” I smiled at him; he had read my mind again.
I slowly got up from my seat, not from fear but from back pain. Can’t hardly move these days. One of the women moved away to her seat, and I closed in on the food tray. I was the poor lioness that didn’t belong to the pack. All I could hope for was that they wouldn’t notice me moving in on their kill while their back was turned. Andrew followed behind me silently with his hand on my back. I squeezed in between the wall and another lady. I slowly navigated the table to grab a plate, cheese, grapes, and a glass of water. The ladies were still talking around the table. I didn’t hear what they were talking about as I hurried away with my scraps.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Andrew said to me as soon as he sat down. “No one bite you.”
“I didn’t know if I was going to make it in there and out again. I thought I got hungry! I’m nothing compared to them.”
Andrew chuckled as he began to eat. After a few minutes Denise began talking more about active labor as we munched on our snacks. I had made it through snack. Just six more times to go!
When everybody got up there seemed to be a swarm for the snacks. I sat in my seat next to my husband Andrew as all the pregnant woman attacked the food tray of cheese and grapes. They all talked giddily about what they were craving while they prepared their plates. I could not get up out of my seat. I watched the woman attack that food tray like a pack of lioness attacking a defenseless gazelle who strayed away from the herd. That tray didn’t stand a chance.
“Are you going to get something to eat?” Andrew asked me. He knew I was starving. He had listened to my stomach chit-chat with us all through my Health, Safety and Nutrition class. But I couldn’t get my self to answer him. I just sat in my seat watching the woman work that tray. I wondered what would happen to a stray limb if the woman got a hold of it during their feeding frenzy. Andrew glanced over at the other woman, then back at me. “You don’t have to worry. If one of them tries to take your arm I’ll bite them.” I smiled at him; he had read my mind again.
I slowly got up from my seat, not from fear but from back pain. Can’t hardly move these days. One of the women moved away to her seat, and I closed in on the food tray. I was the poor lioness that didn’t belong to the pack. All I could hope for was that they wouldn’t notice me moving in on their kill while their back was turned. Andrew followed behind me silently with his hand on my back. I squeezed in between the wall and another lady. I slowly navigated the table to grab a plate, cheese, grapes, and a glass of water. The ladies were still talking around the table. I didn’t hear what they were talking about as I hurried away with my scraps.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Andrew said to me as soon as he sat down. “No one bite you.”
“I didn’t know if I was going to make it in there and out again. I thought I got hungry! I’m nothing compared to them.”
Andrew chuckled as he began to eat. After a few minutes Denise began talking more about active labor as we munched on our snacks. I had made it through snack. Just six more times to go!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Theme 13
Cooking, cleaning, laundry, sitting near the window, homework, bathroom, going to bed. These are some of the areas where the loss of our cat Salem will nock us to the floor with grief. Salem was suck an important aspect in Andrew and my daily lives, one which was under appreciated until he was gone.
During these past few weeks Andrew and I have gone through the grieving process mostly alone. The adaptations we each have had to make to our routine has given each of us something difficult to handle. Salem was always a part of our daily activities. Even though I know Salem won’t come a running when I open a door to see what I’m doing, I will automatically start thinking that I need to hurry so I won’t accidentally shut him in a closet. This breaks my heart a new almost every day.
The pain and agony has eased a little bit. I am now starting to regain my drive to get things done. During the past few weeks I have let everything go, except my physical health for the sake of my unborn son. Just in the past few days I have started managing my apartment and my social life. My homework has suffered greatly but I now feel motivated to do it so I can support Aidan in the near future. My life is slowly coming together as I prepare myself to climb out of my grief to face the world. A world that I don’t want to face yet, but will for the sake of my unborn son.
During these past few weeks Andrew and I have gone through the grieving process mostly alone. The adaptations we each have had to make to our routine has given each of us something difficult to handle. Salem was always a part of our daily activities. Even though I know Salem won’t come a running when I open a door to see what I’m doing, I will automatically start thinking that I need to hurry so I won’t accidentally shut him in a closet. This breaks my heart a new almost every day.
The pain and agony has eased a little bit. I am now starting to regain my drive to get things done. During the past few weeks I have let everything go, except my physical health for the sake of my unborn son. Just in the past few days I have started managing my apartment and my social life. My homework has suffered greatly but I now feel motivated to do it so I can support Aidan in the near future. My life is slowly coming together as I prepare myself to climb out of my grief to face the world. A world that I don’t want to face yet, but will for the sake of my unborn son.
Friday, November 14, 2008
week 12 (1)
List.
Dishes, laundry, prepare lunch, plan dinner, clean the church, take out trash, call mom, do homework. The continuing list echoing through her head. Clean bathroom, vacuum living room, change light bulb, wash windows.
Slowly the items on the list trickle way. Dishes done, trash in dumpster, tub scrubbed. The clock ticks faster. 10:00, 11:30. Time to prepare lunch and eat. 1:00, lunch dishes done. Scrub counter, vacuum living room, change light bulb, 2:00. Walk to church, clean two small section of church, 4:00. Where is the day going?
Get home, cook dinner, 6:00. Start homework, 8:00.
Oh, where has the day gone again? There is still stuff on the list to do, and some things are only half done. Have to complete the list tomorrow along with tomorrow's stuff. Another long day to look forward to.
Dishes, laundry, prepare lunch, plan dinner, clean the church, take out trash, call mom, do homework. The continuing list echoing through her head. Clean bathroom, vacuum living room, change light bulb, wash windows.
Slowly the items on the list trickle way. Dishes done, trash in dumpster, tub scrubbed. The clock ticks faster. 10:00, 11:30. Time to prepare lunch and eat. 1:00, lunch dishes done. Scrub counter, vacuum living room, change light bulb, 2:00. Walk to church, clean two small section of church, 4:00. Where is the day going?
Get home, cook dinner, 6:00. Start homework, 8:00.
Oh, where has the day gone again? There is still stuff on the list to do, and some things are only half done. Have to complete the list tomorrow along with tomorrow's stuff. Another long day to look forward to.
week 12 (2)
sick cat
Puking sounds erupt from behind the chair. Worry and dread permeates the household. Salem the cat is sick. He has been puking since the night before. His owners thought he may have worms so they gave him a dose of de-wormer medication. That hasn’t yielded any results yet.
His female owner has tried to get him to eat and drink something. To the owners knowledge Salem hasn’t eaten or drank in three days. The female came up with an idea to get him to eat. She dug through the freezer and found a box of vanilla ice cream. She grabbed a spoon and scooped out half a tea spoon of ice cream.
The male owner took the spoon and held it for Salem to eat. Salem ate the ice cream. Jubilation bounced off the walls. Fear and sadness followed an hour later as Salem threw up again.
The female tried again to get him to eat. She brought in a glass of water and a tea spoon. She patted Salem and managed to get three tea spoons of water down his throat. All that is left for the owners to do is to wait and see if he throws up again.
Puking sounds erupt from behind the chair. Worry and dread permeates the household. Salem the cat is sick. He has been puking since the night before. His owners thought he may have worms so they gave him a dose of de-wormer medication. That hasn’t yielded any results yet.
His female owner has tried to get him to eat and drink something. To the owners knowledge Salem hasn’t eaten or drank in three days. The female came up with an idea to get him to eat. She dug through the freezer and found a box of vanilla ice cream. She grabbed a spoon and scooped out half a tea spoon of ice cream.
The male owner took the spoon and held it for Salem to eat. Salem ate the ice cream. Jubilation bounced off the walls. Fear and sadness followed an hour later as Salem threw up again.
The female tried again to get him to eat. She brought in a glass of water and a tea spoon. She patted Salem and managed to get three tea spoons of water down his throat. All that is left for the owners to do is to wait and see if he throws up again.
week 12 (3)
Conversations with females.
1. The Sigh. Men, if a woman sighs during a conversation it is a high possibility that you just said something she doesn’t agree to. The sigh can be very obvious or barely audible. If the sigh has escaped her lips you are now if for the disagreement of your life.
2. Downcast Eyes. If a woman won’t look you in the eyes after a comment you probably just hit her insecurity button without realizing it. The comment could have been something trivial to you but devastating to her. This is a hard situation to back out of, and unless you know her pretty well don’t try to back track. If you don’t know her well and try to fix the comment you are only going to make the situation worse. But don’t ignore her. Try a different conversation topic.
3. Big Eye Inhalation. This is usually the worse thing that can happen during a conversation for men. If a woman’s eyes get big and she inhales a big breath of air you better be prepared to shut up and listen to what she has to say. Woman do not like to be interrupted during these moments and want to get everything said and out in the open. Just listen. It will save you from a huge argument.
If these small signs are watched for in a conversation, men can almost eliminate the uncomfortable moments with a woman. Good luck in future conversations!
1. The Sigh. Men, if a woman sighs during a conversation it is a high possibility that you just said something she doesn’t agree to. The sigh can be very obvious or barely audible. If the sigh has escaped her lips you are now if for the disagreement of your life.
2. Downcast Eyes. If a woman won’t look you in the eyes after a comment you probably just hit her insecurity button without realizing it. The comment could have been something trivial to you but devastating to her. This is a hard situation to back out of, and unless you know her pretty well don’t try to back track. If you don’t know her well and try to fix the comment you are only going to make the situation worse. But don’t ignore her. Try a different conversation topic.
3. Big Eye Inhalation. This is usually the worse thing that can happen during a conversation for men. If a woman’s eyes get big and she inhales a big breath of air you better be prepared to shut up and listen to what she has to say. Woman do not like to be interrupted during these moments and want to get everything said and out in the open. Just listen. It will save you from a huge argument.
If these small signs are watched for in a conversation, men can almost eliminate the uncomfortable moments with a woman. Good luck in future conversations!
Theme 11
“Andrew? Hunny?” I called out in the darkness. I stood in the door way with my pregnancy test in hand. “You awake?” Grumbling reached my ears from the direction of the bed. “It’s positive, Drew.”
One week previous…
“Andrew, please don’t get to excited yet,” I pleaded. “I’m not sure if I’m pregnant or not. I just got a good feeling about it. Please wait a few more days to see if my period starts. I don’t want to disappoint you again.”
“Alright, I won’t,” Andrew promised. His words and his face said two different things. His face said he was already imagining holding our sleeping baby while kissing its tiny fingers.
Four days later my period still hadn’t started. Andrew and I took the awaited trip to Save-a-Lot, located in Dover Foxcroft to buy a pregnancy test. The pregnancy test came to a whopping total of a $1.05, the cheapest test I have ever bought. Mom had reassured me for hours that even though it was cheap it would still provide the same results. Then the waiting began again.
According to the box, the best time to take the test was in the morning. Andrew and I went to bed that night with apprehension at what results we would get. It took me along time to fall asleep.
At four o’clock in the morning my bladder couldn’t take it anymore. I wrestled my way free of the blankets and made my way to the bathroom. I silently prayed that the test would yield accurate results even though it wasn’t technically morning yet. I didn’t know if the test was going to be prejudice because it wasn’t the accurate time.
I followed the other directions on the box, then stood over the test with my eyes glued to where the bars where to appear. The first line showed up instantly, like it usually does. The purple color spread across the results window slowly. Panic gripped me as fear set in for another negative result. Then, ever so faintly a second line began to appear. My heart began to jump into my throat at the realization that this was not another failed attempt.
“Andrew? Hunny?” I called out in the darkness. I stood in the door way with my pregnancy test in hand. “You awake?” Grumbling reached my ears from the direction of the bed. “It’s positive, Drew.”
“What did you say?” Andrew asked, fully awake now. Rustling came from the direction of the bed followed by the click of the lamp switch. Light flooded the dark room, temporarily blinding me.
“The test is positive.” I said again, excitement creeping into my voice. “We are going to have a baby.” Andrew flew out of bed and came to stand beside me. I held the test out for him to see. He stared at it for minutes without saying anything. Then he began to jump up and down with excitement.
“I’m gonna call your mom and tell her the good news!” Andrew exclaimed as he took off for the phone.
I sat on the bed to wait to hear my moms squeal clear in the other room over the phone. We were going to finally have a baby. Not another false call. Mom’s squeals erupted over the phone, and I went in to the other room to celebrate with them.
One week previous…
“Andrew, please don’t get to excited yet,” I pleaded. “I’m not sure if I’m pregnant or not. I just got a good feeling about it. Please wait a few more days to see if my period starts. I don’t want to disappoint you again.”
“Alright, I won’t,” Andrew promised. His words and his face said two different things. His face said he was already imagining holding our sleeping baby while kissing its tiny fingers.
Four days later my period still hadn’t started. Andrew and I took the awaited trip to Save-a-Lot, located in Dover Foxcroft to buy a pregnancy test. The pregnancy test came to a whopping total of a $1.05, the cheapest test I have ever bought. Mom had reassured me for hours that even though it was cheap it would still provide the same results. Then the waiting began again.
According to the box, the best time to take the test was in the morning. Andrew and I went to bed that night with apprehension at what results we would get. It took me along time to fall asleep.
At four o’clock in the morning my bladder couldn’t take it anymore. I wrestled my way free of the blankets and made my way to the bathroom. I silently prayed that the test would yield accurate results even though it wasn’t technically morning yet. I didn’t know if the test was going to be prejudice because it wasn’t the accurate time.
I followed the other directions on the box, then stood over the test with my eyes glued to where the bars where to appear. The first line showed up instantly, like it usually does. The purple color spread across the results window slowly. Panic gripped me as fear set in for another negative result. Then, ever so faintly a second line began to appear. My heart began to jump into my throat at the realization that this was not another failed attempt.
“Andrew? Hunny?” I called out in the darkness. I stood in the door way with my pregnancy test in hand. “You awake?” Grumbling reached my ears from the direction of the bed. “It’s positive, Drew.”
“What did you say?” Andrew asked, fully awake now. Rustling came from the direction of the bed followed by the click of the lamp switch. Light flooded the dark room, temporarily blinding me.
“The test is positive.” I said again, excitement creeping into my voice. “We are going to have a baby.” Andrew flew out of bed and came to stand beside me. I held the test out for him to see. He stared at it for minutes without saying anything. Then he began to jump up and down with excitement.
“I’m gonna call your mom and tell her the good news!” Andrew exclaimed as he took off for the phone.
I sat on the bed to wait to hear my moms squeal clear in the other room over the phone. We were going to finally have a baby. Not another false call. Mom’s squeals erupted over the phone, and I went in to the other room to celebrate with them.
Friday, November 7, 2008
week 10
Alright, I did it! I just got done with week 8. Hopefully John will stay on the same schedule so I can get week 9 done tonight before he posts week 10. That would be great. I am going to be caught up finally! Yeah!
I got up from the computer joyfully, and went to sit in my favorite brown chair to watch some T.V. Andrew was gone with his friends again so I had the whole apartment to myself. I plopped myself down, grabbed the gray remote, and pushed the red power button. With a two second delay the T.V. popped on. A hockey game. Wonderful. The only channel I have and hockey is on. I heaved my body out of the chair and crossed the room to my small movie selection.
What to watch, what to watch? I could watch Cinderella again. No, how about Harry Potter? No, the DVD played is sick of those. Not Another Teen Movie? No. Ah, I could watch The Fifth Element again. Alright, that sounds good.
I picked the DVD up, opened the case with a snap, took out the DVD, and put it in the player in the T.V. When I was reseated in my chair I pushed menu and then play on the remote. Salem curled up on the back of my chair and promptly fell asleep, his foot embedded in my neck.
After about an hour of watching the movie I decided I was ready to start again so I could get my work done. I plopped myself in front of the computer, scrolled down my bookmarked pages, and clicked on the link that would take me to my online class work. I waited impatiently for the page to load up while saying a silent prayer.
Oh please let him not post tonight. I want to be caught up again. Oh please, oh please.
As soon as the page loaded up my heart fell. Week 10 was there staring me in the face. All my determination to get caught up blown away. Another week of struggling to get to the computer to do two weeks work of school work loaming in my future.
I closed out of the internet in frustration, and went back to my brown chair to finish the movie.
I got up from the computer joyfully, and went to sit in my favorite brown chair to watch some T.V. Andrew was gone with his friends again so I had the whole apartment to myself. I plopped myself down, grabbed the gray remote, and pushed the red power button. With a two second delay the T.V. popped on. A hockey game. Wonderful. The only channel I have and hockey is on. I heaved my body out of the chair and crossed the room to my small movie selection.
What to watch, what to watch? I could watch Cinderella again. No, how about Harry Potter? No, the DVD played is sick of those. Not Another Teen Movie? No. Ah, I could watch The Fifth Element again. Alright, that sounds good.
I picked the DVD up, opened the case with a snap, took out the DVD, and put it in the player in the T.V. When I was reseated in my chair I pushed menu and then play on the remote. Salem curled up on the back of my chair and promptly fell asleep, his foot embedded in my neck.
After about an hour of watching the movie I decided I was ready to start again so I could get my work done. I plopped myself in front of the computer, scrolled down my bookmarked pages, and clicked on the link that would take me to my online class work. I waited impatiently for the page to load up while saying a silent prayer.
Oh please let him not post tonight. I want to be caught up again. Oh please, oh please.
As soon as the page loaded up my heart fell. Week 10 was there staring me in the face. All my determination to get caught up blown away. Another week of struggling to get to the computer to do two weeks work of school work loaming in my future.
I closed out of the internet in frustration, and went back to my brown chair to finish the movie.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Theme 9
“Will you pass me the cement?” Aunty asked, pointing at the small tin can. I grabbed the can and held it out to her so she could grab the brush. Brush in hand, she turned back to the complicated pipe mosaic that would provide water to her entire trailer. She rubbed the brush on the inside of the pipe joint and connected the pipes together. “There. How about that, huh?”
I smiled a tired smile and placed the cement brush cap back on the tin can. Aunty started handing me left over pipe pieces so I grabbed them and headed back towards the kitchen. We had been working on the plumbing inside the trailer since five in the morning. I looked at the kitchen clock and discovered it was ten thirty. We had been working for seventeen and a half hours with out a proper break. My belly grumbled its complaint for the lack of food. I placed the piping on the kitchen table and looked up at the mirror hanging behind it. My face was covered in pipe dust, with black circles under each eye. My lips had cracked in two places, and my face was a cherry red from the cold.
“I think we did good today,” Aunty called as she stomped into the kitchen. “We did that faster than I thought. Tomorrow we will be able to get up and wrap the pipes under the trailer so they don’t freeze this winter. I’ll turn the heat on so these pipes don’t freeze. That would blow if they froze after all that.”
I smiled a big smile at what my Aunt had to say, but as soon as she turned her back my face feel. Another whole day of hard work. The rumbling sound of the furnace starting up broke into my head, and I hurried over to a register to stand on. The first blast was ice cold, but warm air quickly followed, defrosting me from the toes up.
“If you are hungry there are t.v. dinners in the freezer you can eat.”
I graciously turned to the floor freezer, opened it, and dug through the food choices. I choose a chicken finger dinner to nourish my body for preparation for tomorrow. I inhaled the food once it was hot, and dragged my body to bed with silent tears congealing on my frozen cheeks.
I smiled a tired smile and placed the cement brush cap back on the tin can. Aunty started handing me left over pipe pieces so I grabbed them and headed back towards the kitchen. We had been working on the plumbing inside the trailer since five in the morning. I looked at the kitchen clock and discovered it was ten thirty. We had been working for seventeen and a half hours with out a proper break. My belly grumbled its complaint for the lack of food. I placed the piping on the kitchen table and looked up at the mirror hanging behind it. My face was covered in pipe dust, with black circles under each eye. My lips had cracked in two places, and my face was a cherry red from the cold.
“I think we did good today,” Aunty called as she stomped into the kitchen. “We did that faster than I thought. Tomorrow we will be able to get up and wrap the pipes under the trailer so they don’t freeze this winter. I’ll turn the heat on so these pipes don’t freeze. That would blow if they froze after all that.”
I smiled a big smile at what my Aunt had to say, but as soon as she turned her back my face feel. Another whole day of hard work. The rumbling sound of the furnace starting up broke into my head, and I hurried over to a register to stand on. The first blast was ice cold, but warm air quickly followed, defrosting me from the toes up.
“If you are hungry there are t.v. dinners in the freezer you can eat.”
I graciously turned to the floor freezer, opened it, and dug through the food choices. I choose a chicken finger dinner to nourish my body for preparation for tomorrow. I inhaled the food once it was hot, and dragged my body to bed with silent tears congealing on my frozen cheeks.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Theme 8
Structural design for houses has changed over the generations. In the beginning houses were made from rock formations which we call caves. In these earlier days that is all that those people knew how to work with, natural structures. Later years, house structures improved to mud bricks. Massive structures were built from these bricks, and some of them still stand today.
Newer human structures for a house include steel and wood. We have adapted to steel structures to allow our houses to be many floors high. For the typical home in this generation wood is used. Wood is a plentiful resource and is sturdy.
When humans started to build houses I do not believe that they had thought of their structures turning into play items. When I was a little girl I got a cardboard doll house for Christmas. This house was not designed to hold up to all elements of weather, but I loved it. The doll house was big enough that I was able to sit inside of the house in the open space provided and close the doll house around me. Inside of this house I was able to play with my dolls and furniture for hours all by myself. I had many hours of fun in this house for the course of two or maybe three weeks. Then my doll house was destroyed. The structural design was not able to hold up to a scared Pit Bull-English Bull Dog on a mad run. Needless to say my Mom was very mad when that dog landed on my doll house with me inside. My Aunt was not allowed in the house for weeks because she started the vacuum, and scared her own dog. That dog was petrified of a vacuum.
If my doll house had been made of wood it may have stood a better chance of surviving the scared dog. The cardboard house crumbled like it had been in the rain for a week when the dog landed on it. Probably the best material to stand up to the dog would have been mud bricks, as long as I didn’t spill a drink on it.
Newer human structures for a house include steel and wood. We have adapted to steel structures to allow our houses to be many floors high. For the typical home in this generation wood is used. Wood is a plentiful resource and is sturdy.
When humans started to build houses I do not believe that they had thought of their structures turning into play items. When I was a little girl I got a cardboard doll house for Christmas. This house was not designed to hold up to all elements of weather, but I loved it. The doll house was big enough that I was able to sit inside of the house in the open space provided and close the doll house around me. Inside of this house I was able to play with my dolls and furniture for hours all by myself. I had many hours of fun in this house for the course of two or maybe three weeks. Then my doll house was destroyed. The structural design was not able to hold up to a scared Pit Bull-English Bull Dog on a mad run. Needless to say my Mom was very mad when that dog landed on my doll house with me inside. My Aunt was not allowed in the house for weeks because she started the vacuum, and scared her own dog. That dog was petrified of a vacuum.
If my doll house had been made of wood it may have stood a better chance of surviving the scared dog. The cardboard house crumbled like it had been in the rain for a week when the dog landed on it. Probably the best material to stand up to the dog would have been mud bricks, as long as I didn’t spill a drink on it.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Theme 7
The first time I met Michele I was scared to death. I was still in my shy stage, and my mother was sending me out to go shopping with her. All I new about her was that she was married to my brothers case worker, and that she is a pastor for the Methodist Church. Needless to say when she pulled in the driveway I was shaking in my boots.
During my first encounter with her I learned that she is a very funny person. She is so full of life, and always has good advice to offer to any situation. Michele has a very unique laugh that I feel in love with the first time I heard it. It is sort of a cross between a twitter and a belly laugh which is very amusing to hear.
Michele is a short woman of maybe 5’3”. Well, I consider this height short. Her brown hair is always kept in a short hair style. She is pudgy, and she always moves her pointer finger on her right hand to half time measure to any music she listens to. Michele also has an inspiring personality. Michele is able to talk to just about anybody and make them feel great and empowered to accomplish any task. In fact, if it was not for Michele I would never had gone to college to be an elementary teacher.
Since this first encounter Michele and I have grown close. Her husband Don and her have dubbed me as their unofficially-adopted-daughter. They have done a lot for me. They make sure that I have enough food in the house, and that I am clothed. Michele is a wonderful and open hearted person that I am great to have in my life.
During my first encounter with her I learned that she is a very funny person. She is so full of life, and always has good advice to offer to any situation. Michele has a very unique laugh that I feel in love with the first time I heard it. It is sort of a cross between a twitter and a belly laugh which is very amusing to hear.
Michele is a short woman of maybe 5’3”. Well, I consider this height short. Her brown hair is always kept in a short hair style. She is pudgy, and she always moves her pointer finger on her right hand to half time measure to any music she listens to. Michele also has an inspiring personality. Michele is able to talk to just about anybody and make them feel great and empowered to accomplish any task. In fact, if it was not for Michele I would never had gone to college to be an elementary teacher.
Since this first encounter Michele and I have grown close. Her husband Don and her have dubbed me as their unofficially-adopted-daughter. They have done a lot for me. They make sure that I have enough food in the house, and that I am clothed. Michele is a wonderful and open hearted person that I am great to have in my life.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Theme 6
Blinding light flashes across the sky. Trees thrash around trying to fight off the pushy wind. Angry purple clouds barrel across the sky.
Rain down pours on the city of Rockland as a new family sits in the open doorway of their home. Wind tramples through the open door, blowing papers off the stands. The new Mom and Dad sit on the porch watching the storm with their children. The two year old girl has her head buried in her father's chest. A muffled scream can be heard during each boom of thunder. The almost one year old boy sits curled up in his mother's lap, screaming with his sister.
Lightening streaks faster and faster across the sky. The two children scream louder as the thunder rolls over their home. The parents words of comfort are lost in the wind.
The girl peaks around her father's right arm and looks up at the sky. Her face slowly lights up as she watches the lightening reach for the ground. She no longer screams during each boom; her face is in awe. The little boy looks at his sister, and then up towards the sky. His face also relaxes. The new family sits on their porch and watches the storm die out. Tiny giggles escape the children's lips as they realize their fear was for nothing. The lightening, thunder, and rain stop, and the children get up to play in the mud puddles. The parents stand up and watch their young ones play with a smile on their faces, and a laugh in their hearts.
Rain down pours on the city of Rockland as a new family sits in the open doorway of their home. Wind tramples through the open door, blowing papers off the stands. The new Mom and Dad sit on the porch watching the storm with their children. The two year old girl has her head buried in her father's chest. A muffled scream can be heard during each boom of thunder. The almost one year old boy sits curled up in his mother's lap, screaming with his sister.
Lightening streaks faster and faster across the sky. The two children scream louder as the thunder rolls over their home. The parents words of comfort are lost in the wind.
The girl peaks around her father's right arm and looks up at the sky. Her face slowly lights up as she watches the lightening reach for the ground. She no longer screams during each boom; her face is in awe. The little boy looks at his sister, and then up towards the sky. His face also relaxes. The new family sits on their porch and watches the storm die out. Tiny giggles escape the children's lips as they realize their fear was for nothing. The lightening, thunder, and rain stop, and the children get up to play in the mud puddles. The parents stand up and watch their young ones play with a smile on their faces, and a laugh in their hearts.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Theme 5
My brother Derek and I raced across the gravel entrance to the wooden park. Derek led the way in with me close on his but. We had decided that today we were going to find the mystery room, no matter what.
Derek and I had been coming to the park next to the Rockland Rec building for a few years. Our Dad would bring us here and set us lose so he could talk to any woman that happened to be near by. On one of these such outings, Derek (age 4) and me (age 5) found a room that we had never come across before. Many visits and countless searching since that one day had turned up nothing. Finally, Derek and I were at the end of our young minds rope trying to search for it individually. We decided to combat this together.
We raced across wooden bridges that bowed in the middle, swung hand over hand on the monkey bars, crawled through giant tires all in pursuit of this mystery room. Derek and I took our time as we searched. We looked in every nook and cranny that our small bodies could wiggle through.
"Hey, I found it!" Derek called. I wiggled my body out of a tight spot and hurried back to where I has assigned him to look. I found the opening and crawled through. Derek and I sat in a small open area that resembled a large box. One quick look around and we both new that Derek had called out before investigating throughly.
"This ain't it," I said. "It needs a bench along the side."
Derek and I set out on our pursuit again. We passed Dad talking to some lady on the wooden picnic tables, her kid jumping around on the stadium style sets leading up to the picnic area. I charged up the steps right in front of the picnic tables to race further in the structure. I climbed two sets of steps and stopped. I looked in a hole to my right and found a rectangular room with a bench on the left side. My eyes popped open as I took in the room, the mysterious elusive room.
"Bubby! I found it!" I yelled to Derek. Derek came charging back down the steps I had only gone half up. He stopped beside me and gazed in to. We climbed in the room together and investigated every nook and cranny.
Hours later our Dad called to us that it was time to go home. Derek and I left our discovery with determined minds to remember where the room was next time we came. To this day I believe I have a vauge idea where the room is, if the park is still standing.
Derek and I had been coming to the park next to the Rockland Rec building for a few years. Our Dad would bring us here and set us lose so he could talk to any woman that happened to be near by. On one of these such outings, Derek (age 4) and me (age 5) found a room that we had never come across before. Many visits and countless searching since that one day had turned up nothing. Finally, Derek and I were at the end of our young minds rope trying to search for it individually. We decided to combat this together.
We raced across wooden bridges that bowed in the middle, swung hand over hand on the monkey bars, crawled through giant tires all in pursuit of this mystery room. Derek and I took our time as we searched. We looked in every nook and cranny that our small bodies could wiggle through.
"Hey, I found it!" Derek called. I wiggled my body out of a tight spot and hurried back to where I has assigned him to look. I found the opening and crawled through. Derek and I sat in a small open area that resembled a large box. One quick look around and we both new that Derek had called out before investigating throughly.
"This ain't it," I said. "It needs a bench along the side."
Derek and I set out on our pursuit again. We passed Dad talking to some lady on the wooden picnic tables, her kid jumping around on the stadium style sets leading up to the picnic area. I charged up the steps right in front of the picnic tables to race further in the structure. I climbed two sets of steps and stopped. I looked in a hole to my right and found a rectangular room with a bench on the left side. My eyes popped open as I took in the room, the mysterious elusive room.
"Bubby! I found it!" I yelled to Derek. Derek came charging back down the steps I had only gone half up. He stopped beside me and gazed in to. We climbed in the room together and investigated every nook and cranny.
Hours later our Dad called to us that it was time to go home. Derek and I left our discovery with determined minds to remember where the room was next time we came. To this day I believe I have a vauge idea where the room is, if the park is still standing.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Theme 4 rewrite
1. Rene' curls up in her living room chair with one of her favorite book series, Harry Potter. She reads each page like she has never seen it before, soaking in each word. Salem, a black and white cat, slumbers by the door, his front two paws kneading air. Rene' turns the page and sinks further into oblivion.
2. As Rene' curls up in her favorite living room chair Salem saunters to the front door to lay down. Salem the cat likes to sleep in front of the door as a safety measure that no one leaves while he catches his afternoon z's. He flops down and curls up into a ball.
Meanwhile, Rene' wiggles into further comfort with her favorite book series and a glass of strawberry milk. She begins to read the familiar pages as if she is seeing them for the first time. Rene' losses herself in the depth of the character's conflicts, taking them as her own. Salem rolls over on his back, stretching his front feet up to knead the air.
3. Rene' embarks on Stephanie Meyer's love story as Twilight's main character Isabella Swan. Rene' travels the roads of Bella's home town, meets the devilishly handsome Edward Cullen, feel's Bella's love for him, meets the Cullen family, and feel's Bella's fear of losing Edward and everyone she loves.
Outside of Rene's mind the world in calm and peaceful. Rene's body is curled up in the brown living room chair with a glass of strawberry milk on the stand growing warm. Her husband sits two spaces away absorbed in a computer game he has been playing for the last year. Salem the black and white cat sleeps on his back in front of the door, his paws kneading the air. Sun shines through the open window, illuminating everything it touches.
Rene' pays no attention to her surrondings. In her mind she is batteling James, a blood crazed vampire with a passion for a good challenge. James throws her across the balleriana studio, then breaks her leg. Bella let's out a curtling scream inside Rene's head.
2. As Rene' curls up in her favorite living room chair Salem saunters to the front door to lay down. Salem the cat likes to sleep in front of the door as a safety measure that no one leaves while he catches his afternoon z's. He flops down and curls up into a ball.
Meanwhile, Rene' wiggles into further comfort with her favorite book series and a glass of strawberry milk. She begins to read the familiar pages as if she is seeing them for the first time. Rene' losses herself in the depth of the character's conflicts, taking them as her own. Salem rolls over on his back, stretching his front feet up to knead the air.
3. Rene' embarks on Stephanie Meyer's love story as Twilight's main character Isabella Swan. Rene' travels the roads of Bella's home town, meets the devilishly handsome Edward Cullen, feel's Bella's love for him, meets the Cullen family, and feel's Bella's fear of losing Edward and everyone she loves.
Outside of Rene's mind the world in calm and peaceful. Rene's body is curled up in the brown living room chair with a glass of strawberry milk on the stand growing warm. Her husband sits two spaces away absorbed in a computer game he has been playing for the last year. Salem the black and white cat sleeps on his back in front of the door, his paws kneading the air. Sun shines through the open window, illuminating everything it touches.
Rene' pays no attention to her surrondings. In her mind she is batteling James, a blood crazed vampire with a passion for a good challenge. James throws her across the balleriana studio, then breaks her leg. Bella let's out a curtling scream inside Rene's head.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Theme 4
1. I read one to two books a week. The genre I usually read is fantasy, but I'm not overall picky. The story has to catch my interest and drag me away. If a book doesn't interest me then I discard it and try again.
2. I have a love of reading that usually averages one to two book a week to keep it in hand. A usual book choice for me is in the fantasy genre like Wheel of Time or Pendragon. I have been known to dip into other genres though. If a romance, mystery, horror, etc. has a good story, I'll read it. I'm not to hard to please.
3. I sit curled up in my brown living room chair with a book propped open on my knees. The sun shines on the pages of my second book this week. I'm rereading Breaking Dawn from the Twilight Saga again; my latest addiction.
The previous book I had devoured with my eyes was When the Stars Collid, a murder suspense novel. It was a fair read, kept my attention, but not well enough to keep me away from Twilight. A book has to have a good story to keep me away from the fantasy genre. But once I find I like the book a lot I tend to reread them often.
I turn the page, and slowly read. The light from outside casts shapes of clouds across the pages. I read the last phrase this book contains. A sense of accomplishment and dread fills me as I shut the book with gentle hands. My thirst for a good story flares, and I am off to the library to find another book.
2. I have a love of reading that usually averages one to two book a week to keep it in hand. A usual book choice for me is in the fantasy genre like Wheel of Time or Pendragon. I have been known to dip into other genres though. If a romance, mystery, horror, etc. has a good story, I'll read it. I'm not to hard to please.
3. I sit curled up in my brown living room chair with a book propped open on my knees. The sun shines on the pages of my second book this week. I'm rereading Breaking Dawn from the Twilight Saga again; my latest addiction.
The previous book I had devoured with my eyes was When the Stars Collid, a murder suspense novel. It was a fair read, kept my attention, but not well enough to keep me away from Twilight. A book has to have a good story to keep me away from the fantasy genre. But once I find I like the book a lot I tend to reread them often.
I turn the page, and slowly read. The light from outside casts shapes of clouds across the pages. I read the last phrase this book contains. A sense of accomplishment and dread fills me as I shut the book with gentle hands. My thirst for a good story flares, and I am off to the library to find another book.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Theme 3
Every Christmas Eve my mom's half of the family holds a get together. We all travel the decrepit back roads into the woods to find my Grandmother's house in the tiny town of Medford. Grams house is set out in a blanket of trees at the end of a dead end road. Her little house use to be a fishing cabin back in the 70's for its easy access to the river. She has not done much with the house since she bought it in the early 80's so it's falling down around the edges. Also it is very small!
My mom, my brother Derek, and I are almost always the first to arrive with our gifts and food to pass around. We always bring a cheese and cracker plate with summer sausage. We pile into Grammy's house with her usuall greeting, "Hi! Don't let the cats out!" Derek immediantly vacates to the darkest corner out of the way behind the yellow table. It's usually safer behing the table once eveyone else gets there. While he does that, Mom and I enter our usuall christmas-present-stacking-jig. Mom grabbs a bag of presents to place somewhere near the sparse christmas tree with me right behind her. We usually get trapped between the coffee table, T.V., and couch on our retreat from the tree which makes us lose our balance and step on each others toes. This jig is repeated everytime someone new shows up, but the pace gets faster as the floor space decresses.
I always join my brother in the corner behind Grammy's kitchen table. It's a tight squeeze between the wall and the table, but it is better than sitting on the other end in the middle of traffic. Gram's house is so small that there is only a two foot wide path in between all the furniture. Tht makes it hard to move around, but what makes it even worse is that all the rooms are extra small. Derek and I always get the best seats to save our toes, or knee caps.
The next person to arrive at our christmas eve party is always a toss up between my Aunt Dawn and her gang, and my Aunt Carol and her husband. Both my aunts like to take their own sweet time about showing up. The usuall wait time for either one of them is as short as an hour. "When can we eat?" my brother always complains. "We have to wait for Dawn and Carol," is my Mom's response.
When my Aunt's decide to grace us with their presences is when the party starts. Everyone gathers around the kitchen table with their trays of food. Aunt Dawn, her boyfriend Randy, and Randy's son Cody always bring left overs from their other christmas party. The usual contents are sandwhiches and left over pie wrapped in aluminum foil. Aunt Carol and Uncle Johnny usually bring nothing for food and eat everyone elses, but last year she decided to bring baked scallops wrapped in bacon with bar-b-q sauce. It would have been nice is she hadn't brought anything because she gave us all food poisoning from under cooked seafood. Grammy always makes a small container of dip to pass around with chips.
The food never lasts long, and the talk of the old days begin. Derek and I sit in our little corner chewing the left overs while we listen to the same stories about our Mom, aunts, and uncle Ty's childhood.
"I can remember that time I went snowmobiling with Debbie, and lost her off the back," my Aunt Dawn roars across the room. "I got that snowmobile off that ice and headed down the path, went through this small space between the trees, and heard a 'poof'. I looked back and there was Debbie sitting in the snow between the trees!"
"Yeah, and she didn't come back and get me!" my Mom roared back with a smile on her face.
"Of course I wasn't! I knew you were going to hit me!" Aunt Dawn laughed back.
"Daddy had to take the snowmobile to come get me, and then beat me bloddy black and blue for it!" Mom retorted.
Story such as these are shot back and forth between the living room and kitchen for atleast an hour. Then comes Derek and mine favorite part, gifts! Passing out presents takes a while in my family because as soon as one person has a gift we all must stop what we are doing to see what that person gets. This process builds the excitment for our own presents.
Once everyone has their gifts open and have evaluated everything, the trading begins. Yeah, I said trading. My family is cheap this way. If they see something they like that someone else has they get the oppurtunity to trade.
"Hey," Aunt Dawns says to my mother, "you want to trade this orange ginger body lotion set for your lavendar set?"
"Sure," Mom replies, "I'm allergic to lavendar."
"Dawn?" Carol calls, "Do you want to trade this rooster towel set for that chickadee set?"
"Yep, the rooster towels go better with my kitchen."
Once all is settled, we pack up our stuff to head home. We usually leave in the order we came in in reverse. Aunt Carol and Aunt Dawn leave first and second, then my Mom, brother, and me. Uncle Ty lives with Grammy so he doesn't leave. We all tell each other to have a good night, to drive safe, and to not get to drunk later that evening. Then we all go back to hateing each other in a few days.
My mom, my brother Derek, and I are almost always the first to arrive with our gifts and food to pass around. We always bring a cheese and cracker plate with summer sausage. We pile into Grammy's house with her usuall greeting, "Hi! Don't let the cats out!" Derek immediantly vacates to the darkest corner out of the way behind the yellow table. It's usually safer behing the table once eveyone else gets there. While he does that, Mom and I enter our usuall christmas-present-stacking-jig. Mom grabbs a bag of presents to place somewhere near the sparse christmas tree with me right behind her. We usually get trapped between the coffee table, T.V., and couch on our retreat from the tree which makes us lose our balance and step on each others toes. This jig is repeated everytime someone new shows up, but the pace gets faster as the floor space decresses.
I always join my brother in the corner behind Grammy's kitchen table. It's a tight squeeze between the wall and the table, but it is better than sitting on the other end in the middle of traffic. Gram's house is so small that there is only a two foot wide path in between all the furniture. Tht makes it hard to move around, but what makes it even worse is that all the rooms are extra small. Derek and I always get the best seats to save our toes, or knee caps.
The next person to arrive at our christmas eve party is always a toss up between my Aunt Dawn and her gang, and my Aunt Carol and her husband. Both my aunts like to take their own sweet time about showing up. The usuall wait time for either one of them is as short as an hour. "When can we eat?" my brother always complains. "We have to wait for Dawn and Carol," is my Mom's response.
When my Aunt's decide to grace us with their presences is when the party starts. Everyone gathers around the kitchen table with their trays of food. Aunt Dawn, her boyfriend Randy, and Randy's son Cody always bring left overs from their other christmas party. The usual contents are sandwhiches and left over pie wrapped in aluminum foil. Aunt Carol and Uncle Johnny usually bring nothing for food and eat everyone elses, but last year she decided to bring baked scallops wrapped in bacon with bar-b-q sauce. It would have been nice is she hadn't brought anything because she gave us all food poisoning from under cooked seafood. Grammy always makes a small container of dip to pass around with chips.
The food never lasts long, and the talk of the old days begin. Derek and I sit in our little corner chewing the left overs while we listen to the same stories about our Mom, aunts, and uncle Ty's childhood.
"I can remember that time I went snowmobiling with Debbie, and lost her off the back," my Aunt Dawn roars across the room. "I got that snowmobile off that ice and headed down the path, went through this small space between the trees, and heard a 'poof'. I looked back and there was Debbie sitting in the snow between the trees!"
"Yeah, and she didn't come back and get me!" my Mom roared back with a smile on her face.
"Of course I wasn't! I knew you were going to hit me!" Aunt Dawn laughed back.
"Daddy had to take the snowmobile to come get me, and then beat me bloddy black and blue for it!" Mom retorted.
Story such as these are shot back and forth between the living room and kitchen for atleast an hour. Then comes Derek and mine favorite part, gifts! Passing out presents takes a while in my family because as soon as one person has a gift we all must stop what we are doing to see what that person gets. This process builds the excitment for our own presents.
Once everyone has their gifts open and have evaluated everything, the trading begins. Yeah, I said trading. My family is cheap this way. If they see something they like that someone else has they get the oppurtunity to trade.
"Hey," Aunt Dawns says to my mother, "you want to trade this orange ginger body lotion set for your lavendar set?"
"Sure," Mom replies, "I'm allergic to lavendar."
"Dawn?" Carol calls, "Do you want to trade this rooster towel set for that chickadee set?"
"Yep, the rooster towels go better with my kitchen."
Once all is settled, we pack up our stuff to head home. We usually leave in the order we came in in reverse. Aunt Carol and Aunt Dawn leave first and second, then my Mom, brother, and me. Uncle Ty lives with Grammy so he doesn't leave. We all tell each other to have a good night, to drive safe, and to not get to drunk later that evening. Then we all go back to hateing each other in a few days.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Theme 2, History
Since I reached the age of 14 I have tried to avoid watching the news. I don't know if it has always been my luck to tune into the T.V at the wrong time, but I always seem to watch depressing news. To me, depressing news is: rising gas prices, war, economy, robbery's, murder, and most every thing else on the news. Once in a while I'll catch a good piece like, so and so is celebrating their 100th birthday.
For me, ignoring the news is a way for me to tune out the rest of the world. I don't like being bogged down with everyone else's woes. I am very easily upset by other people's emotions, and if I watch that someone lost their child in this pointless war, then I am depressed for the rest of the day. I am affected very easily. Because I'm affected easily by others emotions I was on anti-depressant drugs to help with handling the news and teenage issues for a few years.
There are some things from the news I can't ignore though. Like food prices or gas prices. Paying for gas is my hardest out of the two. Living on $216 a month makes buying this one necessity very difficult. Well, a necessity if you actually want to go somewhere. I'm dealing with the food prices, but that does where on me.
The biggest thing I avoid from the news is the death and hardships that people are going through. I know I am not the only person that is affected by listening to such broadcastings and probably not the only person who chooses to stay ignorant about what is going on. I have come across more than one person who thinks I'm an idiot for not watching the news, but I this is how I feel about it; watch the news, know whats going on, and be on anti-depressants, or not watch the news, stay ignorant, and not take anti-depressants. Hum, such a hard decision.
For me, ignoring the news is a way for me to tune out the rest of the world. I don't like being bogged down with everyone else's woes. I am very easily upset by other people's emotions, and if I watch that someone lost their child in this pointless war, then I am depressed for the rest of the day. I am affected very easily. Because I'm affected easily by others emotions I was on anti-depressant drugs to help with handling the news and teenage issues for a few years.
There are some things from the news I can't ignore though. Like food prices or gas prices. Paying for gas is my hardest out of the two. Living on $216 a month makes buying this one necessity very difficult. Well, a necessity if you actually want to go somewhere. I'm dealing with the food prices, but that does where on me.
The biggest thing I avoid from the news is the death and hardships that people are going through. I know I am not the only person that is affected by listening to such broadcastings and probably not the only person who chooses to stay ignorant about what is going on. I have come across more than one person who thinks I'm an idiot for not watching the news, but I this is how I feel about it; watch the news, know whats going on, and be on anti-depressants, or not watch the news, stay ignorant, and not take anti-depressants. Hum, such a hard decision.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
You in three persons...third person
After her Sophomore Year in High School, Rene' injected herself into Poetry Readings, Science Fiction and Fantasy writing class, and a creative writing class. She dropped out of the creative writing class from intimidation of the other students ability, and from the stupid writing prompts. One such prompt that drove Rene' nuts was the one where Mr. Phelps had the class write about something gross and turn it into something beautiful. Just the memory of this prompt is enough to put a grimace on her face and turn her stomach.
Rene' succeeded in the science fiction and fantasy writing class from the presence of Ms. McMillian. Ms. McMillian taught this class and guided Rene' to write a 100 page book on a topic of her choice. Rene' throughly enjoyed writing in this classroom. The only thing that bothered her was her fellow peers inconsiderate behavior towards peers that couldn't form a sentences quickly in their head. She left that class room more than once harboring resentment for James and Erin's criticism.
Attending the poetry reading meetings let Rene' to express herself in a carefree environment with others with the same interest. Reading her work in front of a group, seeing them nodd, talk to their neighbors, applading, made her feel like she belonged. She attended these meeting in the Dover public library.
After a gap of three years from writing about things that she actually enjoys, Rene' decided that sometime this summer she was going to get back to her creative side. Little did she know that this goal would be met by taking another creative writing class. To her undeniable joy she has found that this creative writing class has attracted her attention instead of repelling her with gross prompts.
Rene' succeeded in the science fiction and fantasy writing class from the presence of Ms. McMillian. Ms. McMillian taught this class and guided Rene' to write a 100 page book on a topic of her choice. Rene' throughly enjoyed writing in this classroom. The only thing that bothered her was her fellow peers inconsiderate behavior towards peers that couldn't form a sentences quickly in their head. She left that class room more than once harboring resentment for James and Erin's criticism.
Attending the poetry reading meetings let Rene' to express herself in a carefree environment with others with the same interest. Reading her work in front of a group, seeing them nodd, talk to their neighbors, applading, made her feel like she belonged. She attended these meeting in the Dover public library.
After a gap of three years from writing about things that she actually enjoys, Rene' decided that sometime this summer she was going to get back to her creative side. Little did she know that this goal would be met by taking another creative writing class. To her undeniable joy she has found that this creative writing class has attracted her attention instead of repelling her with gross prompts.
You in three persons...second person
You marvel at how quick your opinion on writing has changed in just a few short days. Ever since you were old enough to compile sentences to express thought, you have been finding excuses not to write. Your not going to learn. What the sense? You'll just get beaten further down the hole of failure and disgrace. But that opinion changed on day in your Sophomore year of High School.
You just compiled a 20 line poem for your English class. You unfavorably choose the poem over a ten page story thinking the poem would be shorter. Oh, how wrong you were. You passed the poem in with a slight feeling of accomplishment, but wasn't about to get your hopes up for a wonderful grade. Things you were sure of in the past never worked out, why should this assignment be any different?
The fated day arrived when you were to receive your assignment back with the dreaded grade. You internal prepared yourself for the c- you were so positive you were going to receive for your hours of hard work. You watched Ms. McMillian walk around the room handing back work; you listened to the other students sighs of agony or pleasure. You watched Ms. McMillian as she walked through the line of desks to yours, turning your head to face your desk before she placed your paper on your desk. You heard her walk away. You slowly lifted your head to look at your poem entitled 'Championship'. There is no red marks on the first page, so you flip to the last page. There, right at the bottom, in Ms. McMillian's hasty scribbles is your grade and, oh no! She left a comment! You forget about the grade and immediately start reading the comment.
The comment said, "This was really good Rene'. You showed a knowledge of understanding for this style poem and followed through with your topic. Great job! I also liked the drawing of the cardinal. So cute." You glance quickly at your grade, a 96. That is the best grade you have received for writing. A sense of wonderful accomplishment washed over you as you decide that you can write, and that you are going to try even harder.
Since that blissful day, you tried very hard to reach new heights in writing. Also, you decided to not wait until 9 o'clock the night before the paper was due to write it. Your encounter with Ms. McMillian in Sophomore year of High School was the stepping stone to your writing interest.
You just compiled a 20 line poem for your English class. You unfavorably choose the poem over a ten page story thinking the poem would be shorter. Oh, how wrong you were. You passed the poem in with a slight feeling of accomplishment, but wasn't about to get your hopes up for a wonderful grade. Things you were sure of in the past never worked out, why should this assignment be any different?
The fated day arrived when you were to receive your assignment back with the dreaded grade. You internal prepared yourself for the c- you were so positive you were going to receive for your hours of hard work. You watched Ms. McMillian walk around the room handing back work; you listened to the other students sighs of agony or pleasure. You watched Ms. McMillian as she walked through the line of desks to yours, turning your head to face your desk before she placed your paper on your desk. You heard her walk away. You slowly lifted your head to look at your poem entitled 'Championship'. There is no red marks on the first page, so you flip to the last page. There, right at the bottom, in Ms. McMillian's hasty scribbles is your grade and, oh no! She left a comment! You forget about the grade and immediately start reading the comment.
The comment said, "This was really good Rene'. You showed a knowledge of understanding for this style poem and followed through with your topic. Great job! I also liked the drawing of the cardinal. So cute." You glance quickly at your grade, a 96. That is the best grade you have received for writing. A sense of wonderful accomplishment washed over you as you decide that you can write, and that you are going to try even harder.
Since that blissful day, you tried very hard to reach new heights in writing. Also, you decided to not wait until 9 o'clock the night before the paper was due to write it. Your encounter with Ms. McMillian in Sophomore year of High School was the stepping stone to your writing interest.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Week One, Journal
- Day 1
My husband and I went to visit his mother this afternoon. She had surgery a month ago and just came home from the hospital last week. While we were visiting Suzette (his mom) I got my first unwanted pregnancy comment. After reading a magazine article a few weeks ago about receiving unwanted opinions and advice I thought I was prepared for it. I was wrong.
A lady stopped in to see how Suzette was doing and to drop off her pay check. Suzette and her (can't remember her name) started chit chatting about whatever, and I went to the other room to answer a call from my mom. As I hung up the phone the lady was headed out the door but stopped when she saw me. She turned around and said, "You must be carrying twins. You are so much bigger than my niece. And she is due in December!"
After the lady said this I froze for a second. During this second I was thinking, "What the heck? Do I look like a whale to you or something? By the time I'm due are people going to be running away from me yelling 'Run! It's Rene! She's going to crush you!' or something?"
After the second of harsh comments in my head I smiled a the lady and laughed like she had just said the best joke ever. Oh well. What else can a pregnant lady do?
- Day 2
The repair men, six of them, showed up yesterday and started working immediately at various activities. They even bunked down in a spare apartment that happens to be located almost next to me. I had the wonderful joy of listening to them talk and joke until midnight last night. They are even louder than my actual neighbors! Thank God they are quiet tonight.
But anyways, my mom told me that one of the men would be coming around today to take out our disposals (she lives in the complex too). He did in fact take hers and five other disposals out today that I noticed. I watched the repair man in question all day as he went about his work, wishing that he would just get mine so I could get my groceries. The guy could have got in with the master key, but who wants a stranger in their home tearing things apart? Besides, I don't think my cat would have gave him a warm welcome if he did come in while I was gone. Salem is very protective of his humans.
But, I guess my waiting to switch over to tomorrow. Hopefully he gets here early, not to early, so I can go to my doctors appointment and to my first Wednesday night class.
- Day 3
- Day 4
Tiny is a chocolate tea cup poodle, about the size of two 1 month old kittens. She is very hyper, and is six years old. Every time Andrew and I go out to visit she jumps up and down frantically, and wags her tail so hard her whole body shakes. She is such an amazing sight.
All I did out at my gram's today was lay on her couch with Tiny on my chest. We laid there, took a nap, and watched some T.V. Over all the visit was like a normal day at home. My gram didn't mind. She got to play yahtzee with my mom for a few hours.
- Day 5
- Day 6
You in three persons...first person
It's one thirty in the afternoon. Outside the sun is beating down on my fifth grade classroom, turning the room into a suffocating death trap. A breeze lightly brushes against the open window, stirring the shades only. I listen to Mrs. Whitney announce that it is time to write our stories for this week. I grown in my head. My lest favorite subject. English.
I turn my attention to the top of my desk, the wood patterns swirling from left to right. I stare fixedly at the indent along the top of the desk that holds my chewed pencil; my teeth marks showing my displeasure for the past weekly writing assignments. I glance up at Mrs. Whitney while she finishes up her lecture on how to improve our writing. I didn't listen, again. I'll never get good at writing so what was the since in paying attention? Mrs. Whitney's two chins jiggle as she laughs at a joke she made, the class following suit. I smile weakly in the teacher's direction, faking that I payed attention. "You may start now," Mrs. Whitney tells us in her alto voice.
I lean to the left to look inside my desk to find my black and white media book. It is were I left it, on top of a pile of old crumpled math work sheets. I grab it with my left hand while I think about what boring topic I can choose this time to scribble about. I rustle through my shortening list of topics in my head, shoving each idea aside as it materializes.
Slouching over my desk, head in hands, I begin to pull my sweaty hair. Tears exploding in my eyes as frustration and defeat wrapped around my shaking body. Images of bad grades, my mother's upset face, my brother's chiding comments began whirling in my head. I throw my torso onto my desk in my final act of frustration.
I turn my attention to the top of my desk, the wood patterns swirling from left to right. I stare fixedly at the indent along the top of the desk that holds my chewed pencil; my teeth marks showing my displeasure for the past weekly writing assignments. I glance up at Mrs. Whitney while she finishes up her lecture on how to improve our writing. I didn't listen, again. I'll never get good at writing so what was the since in paying attention? Mrs. Whitney's two chins jiggle as she laughs at a joke she made, the class following suit. I smile weakly in the teacher's direction, faking that I payed attention. "You may start now," Mrs. Whitney tells us in her alto voice.
I lean to the left to look inside my desk to find my black and white media book. It is were I left it, on top of a pile of old crumpled math work sheets. I grab it with my left hand while I think about what boring topic I can choose this time to scribble about. I rustle through my shortening list of topics in my head, shoving each idea aside as it materializes.
Slouching over my desk, head in hands, I begin to pull my sweaty hair. Tears exploding in my eyes as frustration and defeat wrapped around my shaking body. Images of bad grades, my mother's upset face, my brother's chiding comments began whirling in my head. I throw my torso onto my desk in my final act of frustration.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
