A blog is like an online journal. A blog is like an online, personal magazine. A blog is a super long twitter. A blog is a short short essay. A blog is an expanded laundry list, and a shortened review.
Blogs are different things to different people. My experience with blogs is one of joy, and dismay. I started out thinking that blogs are a really cool way to keep up with my thoughts, but as time grew long, it became evident that they are more just like a nuisance of a project that nobody my age really wants to post. Twitter is more from people my age. Short sweet and to the point. If I had a choice on the length of my blogs, they would be about 10 words a piece.
I did start out well though. When I first began the blogging process, I equated it with a tutor for typing. I wanted to get as much information down as possible in the ten minutes I was to blog. I would, at first, just type whatever came to mind, and a lot would get put down. Sometimes, I wrote what actually came to mind. Like, Squirrel!
I don't want to do this next semester though. At ten minutes a blog, and 70 blog posts, the time spent on this grade is around 11 and a half hours. I don't spend that much time on ANYTHING! Not to mention the stress that comes with the thought of having a project for that long.
Blogs may be great to some, but they sure do suck for myself. Adios Blogger.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
One is Waayy Enough
Second Life -To play or not to play. I will describe my experience playing the game, and only that. I will not try to explain the mental frontline of the players. I will not try to decipher the reason behind the game. Let's begin...
As I first started playing, I created a reasonable looking character. The appearance was chosen from a list of default looks. I tried walking and interacting with different objects, but to no avail. I couldn't grasp the controls, as they were very different from any other game I've encountered, so I gave up. I didn't really even look at the game again until tonight.
My lady's friend Sarah got on and tried it, but encountered the same dilemma that I had, and she gave up. Her failure sparked my interests. I gave it one more go, and got a small hold on the controls. I didn't care what others thought, and I wanted to incite a sort of frenzy, so I created the most horrifying character I could. When it was over, she resembled Fiona (ogre form) from Shrek.
I walked up to these two other players, which were sitting on something, and I stood. I only stood. I could hear them talk through the game, and soon they began talking about my character. The voices almost mirrored those of seventh graders. Their characters where dressed in, you guessed it, final fantasy clothes, and if I could have smelled them, it probably would have been bad. They laughed and talked about their friends that live/play in Second Life. I was saddened.
Second Life has brought the gaming world to a new low. No longer are WoW gamers the epitome of the virtual world.
As I first started playing, I created a reasonable looking character. The appearance was chosen from a list of default looks. I tried walking and interacting with different objects, but to no avail. I couldn't grasp the controls, as they were very different from any other game I've encountered, so I gave up. I didn't really even look at the game again until tonight.
My lady's friend Sarah got on and tried it, but encountered the same dilemma that I had, and she gave up. Her failure sparked my interests. I gave it one more go, and got a small hold on the controls. I didn't care what others thought, and I wanted to incite a sort of frenzy, so I created the most horrifying character I could. When it was over, she resembled Fiona (ogre form) from Shrek.
I walked up to these two other players, which were sitting on something, and I stood. I only stood. I could hear them talk through the game, and soon they began talking about my character. The voices almost mirrored those of seventh graders. Their characters where dressed in, you guessed it, final fantasy clothes, and if I could have smelled them, it probably would have been bad. They laughed and talked about their friends that live/play in Second Life. I was saddened.
Second Life has brought the gaming world to a new low. No longer are WoW gamers the epitome of the virtual world.
One is Enough
I just got my first taste of Second Life, and I am completely shocked. I have heard stories of Second Lives, tales of it, and I underestimated it to say the least. There is certain nerd level on all online video games. I'm going to describe three different ones, and then the whole new level brought by Second Life.
The first level of nerdom, is in First Person Shooter games, such as Halo or Call of Duty. Even though all types of people play them, the ones who play to compete have all attained the first rank of geek. They all take the video game seriously and make it much less fun for others. While they do not necessarily bring a stench to the human title, they do make being a casual video gamer less enjoyable, and discourage other players from pursuing in depth gameplay.
The second level of geek titles is given to the players of Final Fantasy. Most become completely obsessed and shy away from average society. They will replay Role Playing Games until they become a nuisance to hear from another room. The title of Final Fantasy nerd also comes with the visual appearance of a Japanese manga nerd. Scrawny, pale, and in black clothes. Now, not all look this way, but I'm speaking of the majority.
The third tier, often regarded as the highest ranks achievable, is the WoW nerd. They spend hours upon hours on the computer. Many times, missing school or family occasions to play WoW. World of Warcraft has many opportunities to become a higher ranking player, and most just cannot refuse those chances. They all look different, but they all smell bad, usually from a lack of showers.
I have discovered a new rank tonight. It is the rank of Second Lifers. The game and players will be described in the next blog.
The first level of nerdom, is in First Person Shooter games, such as Halo or Call of Duty. Even though all types of people play them, the ones who play to compete have all attained the first rank of geek. They all take the video game seriously and make it much less fun for others. While they do not necessarily bring a stench to the human title, they do make being a casual video gamer less enjoyable, and discourage other players from pursuing in depth gameplay.
The second level of geek titles is given to the players of Final Fantasy. Most become completely obsessed and shy away from average society. They will replay Role Playing Games until they become a nuisance to hear from another room. The title of Final Fantasy nerd also comes with the visual appearance of a Japanese manga nerd. Scrawny, pale, and in black clothes. Now, not all look this way, but I'm speaking of the majority.
The third tier, often regarded as the highest ranks achievable, is the WoW nerd. They spend hours upon hours on the computer. Many times, missing school or family occasions to play WoW. World of Warcraft has many opportunities to become a higher ranking player, and most just cannot refuse those chances. They all look different, but they all smell bad, usually from a lack of showers.
I have discovered a new rank tonight. It is the rank of Second Lifers. The game and players will be described in the next blog.
Semester One Part Four
Economics
This class was an easy one. I didn't reallylearn much form this class, but what I did learn was invaluable. Before college, in high school per say, I didn't even know what homework was. I just did things assigned before I left class. I wrote papers in class during lecture. I prepared posters during fourth block. My after school was MY after school, and no school work was going to stop that. In economics, we were assigned a huge chunk of homework for each section of the book that we worked on. At about eight pages of question per homework, this was actual work. The first one, I put off until the last minute, and I paid for it. I was so stressed out that I made myself sick. The second one, I worked a little ahead of time, and realized that it works. I never became stressed over such an easy class, and I went on my marry way.
Economics has taught me that no matter how easy the subject, or how hard, the homework, and other assignments for that matter, should be worked on in a timely manner in order to keep all at peace.
P.S. Dr. John Winters is an amazing teacher and deserves recommendation.
This class was an easy one. I didn't reallylearn much form this class, but what I did learn was invaluable. Before college, in high school per say, I didn't even know what homework was. I just did things assigned before I left class. I wrote papers in class during lecture. I prepared posters during fourth block. My after school was MY after school, and no school work was going to stop that. In economics, we were assigned a huge chunk of homework for each section of the book that we worked on. At about eight pages of question per homework, this was actual work. The first one, I put off until the last minute, and I paid for it. I was so stressed out that I made myself sick. The second one, I worked a little ahead of time, and realized that it works. I never became stressed over such an easy class, and I went on my marry way.
Economics has taught me that no matter how easy the subject, or how hard, the homework, and other assignments for that matter, should be worked on in a timely manner in order to keep all at peace.
P.S. Dr. John Winters is an amazing teacher and deserves recommendation.
The Labyrnith from the Point of David Bowie
David Bowie, the genius behind tons of hits, is also the designer backing a new clothing line at Target. Despite his great career success, Mr. Bowie has been known throughout said career for a few distinct features.
His orientation, and more notably his outfits.
His orientation is up for grabs, but his outfits are incredibly depicted in Jim Henson's movie, The Labyrinth. If they could be described in a couple of words. I would choose Glamorous, Horse, and Trainer. He had his notable hair and makeup and skin tight black spandex jeans. He wore a jacket comparable to that of a matador, and on his feet were hooker boots.
His outfit related to his character in a number of ways. He was the Goblin King, and needed to look as such. Not much you can do to his face, since David Bowie did his own makeup, so they went ahead and let him dress himself. It turned out pretty well, and Bowie played a convincing King of little goblins. His outfit spoke to the relationship that played out between the girl and him. The outfit allowed for quite a bit of skin viewing, so it said sexy.
Overall, David Bowie is a visual freak, and his outfit in The Labyrinth is a perfect example.
His orientation, and more notably his outfits.
His orientation is up for grabs, but his outfits are incredibly depicted in Jim Henson's movie, The Labyrinth. If they could be described in a couple of words. I would choose Glamorous, Horse, and Trainer. He had his notable hair and makeup and skin tight black spandex jeans. He wore a jacket comparable to that of a matador, and on his feet were hooker boots.
His outfit related to his character in a number of ways. He was the Goblin King, and needed to look as such. Not much you can do to his face, since David Bowie did his own makeup, so they went ahead and let him dress himself. It turned out pretty well, and Bowie played a convincing King of little goblins. His outfit spoke to the relationship that played out between the girl and him. The outfit allowed for quite a bit of skin viewing, so it said sexy.
Overall, David Bowie is a visual freak, and his outfit in The Labyrinth is a perfect example.
Cigarettes
Food, porn, crack, and cigarettes are the world's leading cases of addiction. Of course sex and masturbation belong, but they are as wide spread. Some people start smoking, because it has a cool factor. For the same reason, those same people start smoking crack. I'm not trying to say that cigarette smokers should go ahead and smoke crack, but there is a part of each model that speaks to the other.
Being addicted without showing signs of dependency looks cool.
It don't think its the smoke blowing out of your mouth. I don't think its the square worn spot on the butt pocket of your jeans. I think it is the idea that you've overcome an obstacle that the world can't. People die everyday, overcoming. No one, and that includes the smoker, wants to be addicted to anything. To be addicted means that you are no longer independent. Freedom is the best drug. Taking another restricts you from the first.
I digress.
I just wanted to say that I don't think that the taste of cigarettes, or even the thought of being a smoker is what is appealing to people. I believe that thinking you are accomplishing a rarely completed feat grabs your attention and reels you in. Smoking isn't cool. Who wants to rely on leaves and paper. even the lighter plays more of a role in your life than your underwear.
Being addicted without showing signs of dependency looks cool.
It don't think its the smoke blowing out of your mouth. I don't think its the square worn spot on the butt pocket of your jeans. I think it is the idea that you've overcome an obstacle that the world can't. People die everyday, overcoming. No one, and that includes the smoker, wants to be addicted to anything. To be addicted means that you are no longer independent. Freedom is the best drug. Taking another restricts you from the first.
I digress.
I just wanted to say that I don't think that the taste of cigarettes, or even the thought of being a smoker is what is appealing to people. I believe that thinking you are accomplishing a rarely completed feat grabs your attention and reels you in. Smoking isn't cool. Who wants to rely on leaves and paper. even the lighter plays more of a role in your life than your underwear.
Why People Suck
As I have posted before, in great detail, actually, I work at Petsmart. Many people come in and out of the store daily. Many of them have loving, warm, healthy pets. Just as many have sick, nasty, and/or ugly pets with problems. I have thought about it realized that most of our customers with sick pets just suck. There are a couple of reasons I have calculated.
The first is that the pets are an eye and nose sore. Mangy animals do NOT excite me in any way. I don't even want to come near sick dogs. The other day, a family came in with a pit bull with some cuts on his face, which may say a whole lot, but that's for another day. The wounds had become infected and smelled of rotten fish to be as cliched as possible. The people just tromped around the store shopping for this smelly beast, completely disregarding that everyone else in the building had noses. Then, they had the nerve to ask me what to use for the dog's cuts, which leads me to my second point.
They suck, because they are cheap bastards who need to learn that vets are called vets for a reason. They aren't stockers or cashiers at your local pet store. People with sick animals in petsmart need to, one, take their dog home, and two quit asking the employees questions that a vet should answer. Even we consult a local vet for all of our sick animals. I'm sorry, but if you are too cheap to call a vet, you shouldn't have a dog. The pound should take it. They even use vets.
I hate Pet Parents that bring their problems to our doorstep. We sell food, clothes, and toys, not medical attention. Go to a PetSmart with a Banfield [in store veterinarian's office].
The first is that the pets are an eye and nose sore. Mangy animals do NOT excite me in any way. I don't even want to come near sick dogs. The other day, a family came in with a pit bull with some cuts on his face, which may say a whole lot, but that's for another day. The wounds had become infected and smelled of rotten fish to be as cliched as possible. The people just tromped around the store shopping for this smelly beast, completely disregarding that everyone else in the building had noses. Then, they had the nerve to ask me what to use for the dog's cuts, which leads me to my second point.
They suck, because they are cheap bastards who need to learn that vets are called vets for a reason. They aren't stockers or cashiers at your local pet store. People with sick animals in petsmart need to, one, take their dog home, and two quit asking the employees questions that a vet should answer. Even we consult a local vet for all of our sick animals. I'm sorry, but if you are too cheap to call a vet, you shouldn't have a dog. The pound should take it. They even use vets.
I hate Pet Parents that bring their problems to our doorstep. We sell food, clothes, and toys, not medical attention. Go to a PetSmart with a Banfield [in store veterinarian's office].
Up
The story of a elderly man and a young whipper-snapper trying to fulfill a late wife's dream of living Paradise Falls, a thought-to-be make-believe world lost in time. Their adventure starts when the old man is sentenced to live in a retirement home. He fastens thousands of balloons to his house and floats away. Once the initial commotion settles, the man hears a rap tap tapping at his door, to discover that the young boy was on his doorstep when he took off. They meet many different companions on their trip, and encounter many dangers and obstacles. Without ruining the movie, it does have a happy ending, which will warm even the hardest heart.
I give it a two thumbs up and a recommendation for the whole family, even grumpy dad.
I give it a two thumbs up and a recommendation for the whole family, even grumpy dad.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Commence to Quitting Part 3
In a world of unspeakable horror, twisted around a tiny pair of legs, the tightest jeans ever are brought to your college experience in GENERAL CHEMISTRY I starting MRS. SUNA! [Her last name's spelling is unknown, and it is too hard to phonetically spell. Sorry.]
Mrs. Suna is something else, which is why I enrolled in Chem II with her next semester! =]
Not only does she have tight jeans and long, billowy, curled locks of golden brown hair, she is foreign and a plain cool person. She always jokes and plays around, but she rarely strays from the topic at hand. Mrs. Suna grades just as fairly as Dr. Smith, but the tests are killer.
Just yesterday, I was made to think that everyone in the class thought they failed the third test. Granted, she has given a total now of about 115 possible extra points, it was hard. Even Brandon, Lisa, and I had much trouble with it.
Overall though, the intensity of the classroom setting isn't bad. It is pretty laid back, but straight forward, which makes time go by much quicker. (A nice shot of adrenaline at the end of a long day)
I'm looking forward to next semester with her.
Mrs. Suna is something else, which is why I enrolled in Chem II with her next semester! =]
Not only does she have tight jeans and long, billowy, curled locks of golden brown hair, she is foreign and a plain cool person. She always jokes and plays around, but she rarely strays from the topic at hand. Mrs. Suna grades just as fairly as Dr. Smith, but the tests are killer.
Just yesterday, I was made to think that everyone in the class thought they failed the third test. Granted, she has given a total now of about 115 possible extra points, it was hard. Even Brandon, Lisa, and I had much trouble with it.
Overall though, the intensity of the classroom setting isn't bad. It is pretty laid back, but straight forward, which makes time go by much quicker. (A nice shot of adrenaline at the end of a long day)
I'm looking forward to next semester with her.
Wrap it Up Part Two
The semester is still coming to a close, and I need to reflect on my experiences in Calculus.
Starting off with who taught the course, when and where it was held, and my expected workload, I was taught by the awesome, "I am very silly", Dr. Smith. It happened in room 222 in GH at 9:25 every Tuesday and Thursday. There was no lab, but a LOT of homework.
The Teach
Dr. Smith is, from what I hear, one of the best teachers at AUM. He may not be able to convey every thought of his into your mind, but he can make up for it by how real he is. On every quiz/test he gives partial credit for anything possible. He scales the point of each question so that hard questions don't hurt the grade as bad. He explains exactly what is going on in the class, grade-wise, so that you have an understanding of where you can place yourself. Dr. Smith is a very light-hearted individual with a neatly combed beard and a finely rounded bald spot. Jolly St. Furman he should be called.
At the start of the class, I believed that it would be a breeze, and of coarse, I made an error. The class was a lot of work in the beginning, due to the large amount of abstract thinking it took to understand the theories behind Calculus. Outside the box didn't even cut it for this class. I underestimated the homework, and I never did it. It didn't have to be turned it, so I didn't have to do it. Once I started looking at the homework, I started doing much better on the quizzes. I was like, DO IT. I forced myself to look at the homework, and it paid off. I have the highest average in the class, and its an A.
Gold Team Rules.
Starting off with who taught the course, when and where it was held, and my expected workload, I was taught by the awesome, "I am very silly", Dr. Smith. It happened in room 222 in GH at 9:25 every Tuesday and Thursday. There was no lab, but a LOT of homework.
The Teach
Dr. Smith is, from what I hear, one of the best teachers at AUM. He may not be able to convey every thought of his into your mind, but he can make up for it by how real he is. On every quiz/test he gives partial credit for anything possible. He scales the point of each question so that hard questions don't hurt the grade as bad. He explains exactly what is going on in the class, grade-wise, so that you have an understanding of where you can place yourself. Dr. Smith is a very light-hearted individual with a neatly combed beard and a finely rounded bald spot. Jolly St. Furman he should be called.
At the start of the class, I believed that it would be a breeze, and of coarse, I made an error. The class was a lot of work in the beginning, due to the large amount of abstract thinking it took to understand the theories behind Calculus. Outside the box didn't even cut it for this class. I underestimated the homework, and I never did it. It didn't have to be turned it, so I didn't have to do it. Once I started looking at the homework, I started doing much better on the quizzes. I was like, DO IT. I forced myself to look at the homework, and it paid off. I have the highest average in the class, and its an A.
Gold Team Rules.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Winding Down
The semester is winding down, and my blogs are coming to an end. Only 10 left. For this one, I want to talk about my experiences in English this semester. For the following three blogs, I'm going to talk about the other three classes, but for now, just English.
I started this semester with the mindset of a pompous valedictorian. That didn't get me very far. I would show up early to class and all that jazz, but I wouldn't pay attention or seek help with my papers. I turned in the first paper thinking it was a 100 style paper, but I got a slap in the face. I woke up from my "I'm the best at writing papers" dream to see a "B" on my paper. Shocked and stunned, I asked the teacher about it. First of all, I don't give out many "A"s. Wow, way to be a freshman teacher, I thought. Secondly, this was seriously a B paper. Thanks a million teach, insult me and destroy my psyche at the same time! Love you too!
I was hurt. Cussing and fussing all the way home. For the next few weeks, I hated Mrs. Simms, but i decided to take the reins on the next paper. I worked on it for about a total of 10 hours. I even spent an entire work day reviewing it with a colleague. I got an "A-". Much better. I did the same thing on my next paper. An "A"! I was in the mood. Mrs. Simms wasn't the devil, and I could do this. All I have now is to turn in my last paper. I just have a few adjustments, but it should be ready soon.
Overall, with regards to life, I've learned that if I don't get the outcome that I want, then I need to step up my game. Work harder. Life isn't sitting on a silver platter.
I started this semester with the mindset of a pompous valedictorian. That didn't get me very far. I would show up early to class and all that jazz, but I wouldn't pay attention or seek help with my papers. I turned in the first paper thinking it was a 100 style paper, but I got a slap in the face. I woke up from my "I'm the best at writing papers" dream to see a "B" on my paper. Shocked and stunned, I asked the teacher about it. First of all, I don't give out many "A"s. Wow, way to be a freshman teacher, I thought. Secondly, this was seriously a B paper. Thanks a million teach, insult me and destroy my psyche at the same time! Love you too!
I was hurt. Cussing and fussing all the way home. For the next few weeks, I hated Mrs. Simms, but i decided to take the reins on the next paper. I worked on it for about a total of 10 hours. I even spent an entire work day reviewing it with a colleague. I got an "A-". Much better. I did the same thing on my next paper. An "A"! I was in the mood. Mrs. Simms wasn't the devil, and I could do this. All I have now is to turn in my last paper. I just have a few adjustments, but it should be ready soon.
Overall, with regards to life, I've learned that if I don't get the outcome that I want, then I need to step up my game. Work harder. Life isn't sitting on a silver platter.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
This One Time Part 2
Continued from previous blog.
I was about 10 miles out from the Florida/Alabama state line, and I started to crash. My vision got very blurry. My head and eyelids became heavy. I had to roll down the window in a subtle effort to stay awake. Well, the speed limit right outside of this little town on the border was 65 miles an hour. I was probably going about 70. Since I couldn't pay attention to the signs on the side of the road, because the road was hard enough to pay attention to, I didn't notice when the speed limit changed to 35.
Of coarse, there were 2 cops waiting to pull over some kid going 70 mph at 2 o'clock in the morning trying to go home from a show. Oh, I didn't mention that I was wearing very tight skinnies and a huge leather jacket. I looked like a heroine dealer.
I have no idea how long they were following me or even how long I was stopped, but essentially, they pulled me out of my car to search, because I pleaded for them to waive a ticket. They agreed that if they could search the car, then I could go free, unless they found anything. They pulled up my seats, which were removable, checked all compartments, even the ones I didn't know existed, and they patted me down. Underneath my seat was a poker set in a tin box, and the cop thought he had me.
"Oh, it's just a poker set. Haha. Let him go John."
I am a good kid. They let me go, and the rest of the trip home, about 150 miles, I battled drowsiness, and prevailed. I got home at about 4, fell asleep on the living room floor, and woke up at 2 that afternoon, late for school. I didn't go.
One of the best experiences of my life. Kinda boring life huh?
I was about 10 miles out from the Florida/Alabama state line, and I started to crash. My vision got very blurry. My head and eyelids became heavy. I had to roll down the window in a subtle effort to stay awake. Well, the speed limit right outside of this little town on the border was 65 miles an hour. I was probably going about 70. Since I couldn't pay attention to the signs on the side of the road, because the road was hard enough to pay attention to, I didn't notice when the speed limit changed to 35.
Of coarse, there were 2 cops waiting to pull over some kid going 70 mph at 2 o'clock in the morning trying to go home from a show. Oh, I didn't mention that I was wearing very tight skinnies and a huge leather jacket. I looked like a heroine dealer.
I have no idea how long they were following me or even how long I was stopped, but essentially, they pulled me out of my car to search, because I pleaded for them to waive a ticket. They agreed that if they could search the car, then I could go free, unless they found anything. They pulled up my seats, which were removable, checked all compartments, even the ones I didn't know existed, and they patted me down. Underneath my seat was a poker set in a tin box, and the cop thought he had me.
"Oh, it's just a poker set. Haha. Let him go John."
I am a good kid. They let me go, and the rest of the trip home, about 150 miles, I battled drowsiness, and prevailed. I got home at about 4, fell asleep on the living room floor, and woke up at 2 that afternoon, late for school. I didn't go.
One of the best experiences of my life. Kinda boring life huh?
This One Time
Have you ever in your life, almost gone to jail, die, and get grounded in the same night, but avoid all of it? I was a Senior in high school. I never had taken any real spontaneous trips, but this time, it was my turn to hit the road.
About the middle of my fall senior semester in high school, I decided to take a road trip 200 miles away to Pensacola. I was going to see a band, Cute is What We Aim For, and meet up with a girl, Sarah. Sarah was a small thing, even though she was really nice. She was just waaayy too far away for me, and I found someone waaayy better! ;]
Anyway, I checked myself out of school at around noon and headed south on 65. I drove until I got to Pensacola, stopping only once to pee, and I met Sarah. We went to her house, got ready, and then left for the show. It was only around the corner. Only about 100 people showed up, but it was a small place so the crowd seemed bigger. All the bands played, and it just so happened that the one I came for sucked. We stayed after the show and helped all the bands clean up, and even got Whataburger for them. After all was said and done, it was one o'clock and I had to go home.
I wrote down directions for the way home, scribbling because I was so tired. Entering my car, I realized that I had made a huge mistake. I couldn't stay awake the whole way home. For about half an hour, I was fine. Driving seemed to be a cake walk. Until I got about 10 miles from the Florida/Alabama state line.
Continued on the next blog, I have ran out of time.
About the middle of my fall senior semester in high school, I decided to take a road trip 200 miles away to Pensacola. I was going to see a band, Cute is What We Aim For, and meet up with a girl, Sarah. Sarah was a small thing, even though she was really nice. She was just waaayy too far away for me, and I found someone waaayy better! ;]
Anyway, I checked myself out of school at around noon and headed south on 65. I drove until I got to Pensacola, stopping only once to pee, and I met Sarah. We went to her house, got ready, and then left for the show. It was only around the corner. Only about 100 people showed up, but it was a small place so the crowd seemed bigger. All the bands played, and it just so happened that the one I came for sucked. We stayed after the show and helped all the bands clean up, and even got Whataburger for them. After all was said and done, it was one o'clock and I had to go home.
I wrote down directions for the way home, scribbling because I was so tired. Entering my car, I realized that I had made a huge mistake. I couldn't stay awake the whole way home. For about half an hour, I was fine. Driving seemed to be a cake walk. Until I got about 10 miles from the Florida/Alabama state line.
Continued on the next blog, I have ran out of time.
USPS
The United States Postal Service is a Company created and run by the MAN that sends packages and mail to your doorstep. You only pay if you send out mail, and it is only a few cents per pounds.
The Postal Service is a band form by the lead singer from Death Cab for Cutie, Ben Gibbard. They were created and run by Jimmy Tamborello from Dntel and Ben Gibbard.
The name of the band came from the way that songs were produced. Tamborello would compose tracks and send the DATs to Gibbard through the mail, the USPS. They have only been around since 2003, with the realease of the album Give Up, but they still remain one of my favorite bands ever, and have one of the most well known songs ever.
The song Such Great Heights was release on the album in 2003 and appear in numerous commercials, and even had 6 remixes done by other artists.
Postal Service is almost the opposite from Ben Gibbard's other project, Death Cab for Cutie. It's messages and song moods are very uplifting and cheerful, while Death Cab's are sad and point out the negative sides of life. Postal Service reveres love, and Death Cab pushes the ideology behind death.
Although the names sound alike, The USPS and The Postal Service are two completely different things. One is an indie pop techno band from across the US, and the other is a mailing service employed by everyone in America that is run across the US.
The Postal Service is a band form by the lead singer from Death Cab for Cutie, Ben Gibbard. They were created and run by Jimmy Tamborello from Dntel and Ben Gibbard.
The name of the band came from the way that songs were produced. Tamborello would compose tracks and send the DATs to Gibbard through the mail, the USPS. They have only been around since 2003, with the realease of the album Give Up, but they still remain one of my favorite bands ever, and have one of the most well known songs ever.
The song Such Great Heights was release on the album in 2003 and appear in numerous commercials, and even had 6 remixes done by other artists.
Postal Service is almost the opposite from Ben Gibbard's other project, Death Cab for Cutie. It's messages and song moods are very uplifting and cheerful, while Death Cab's are sad and point out the negative sides of life. Postal Service reveres love, and Death Cab pushes the ideology behind death.
Although the names sound alike, The USPS and The Postal Service are two completely different things. One is an indie pop techno band from across the US, and the other is a mailing service employed by everyone in America that is run across the US.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Kingdom of Loathing
Everybody knows that World of Warcraft, "WoW", is the massive online game where children pretend to be powerful monsters and work as a team to destroy evil things. Well there has been developed a pun to WoW.
Whereas WoW is a very visual and audio related game. Where if WoW video shut down, no one would play. Kingdom of Loathing is the anti-WoW to the world. It is a text based game where players read text and see small pictures and interact with other players around the world. It is a plain game and a journey of sorts all in the same bundle. Many players get online everyday to use their adventures to see new monsters and explore branching dungeons. The main picture/character for KoL is a simple stick man with a martini glass and a sword.
KoL is not only the parody to WoW, it is the parody and pun to every popular subject matter in the world. Every adventure has a witty quip that relates to some real world matter. It plays on anything from movies to politics.
The Anti-WoW has arrived, and it shall be called KoL.
Whereas WoW is a very visual and audio related game. Where if WoW video shut down, no one would play. Kingdom of Loathing is the anti-WoW to the world. It is a text based game where players read text and see small pictures and interact with other players around the world. It is a plain game and a journey of sorts all in the same bundle. Many players get online everyday to use their adventures to see new monsters and explore branching dungeons. The main picture/character for KoL is a simple stick man with a martini glass and a sword.
KoL is not only the parody to WoW, it is the parody and pun to every popular subject matter in the world. Every adventure has a witty quip that relates to some real world matter. It plays on anything from movies to politics.
The Anti-WoW has arrived, and it shall be called KoL.
With The Word
What does argue mean?
The definition of argue, according to some online dictionary is to put forth reasons for or against. One can argue through any type of media, since it is not restricted, by definition, to a single or small group. Audio, Visual, Touch, Taste, Smell. All of the senses can argue. A nasty smelling food that tastes good argue with itself. The smell puts forth reasons against eating. Most college classes will make one present arguments in paper form. That is, writing paper about arguing a point.
In English Composition 1020, students are to compose argumentative papers based on the broad topic of the class. Whether the class be about body/image or Harry Potter, the topics will be arguing points from the subject matter. I am currently enrolled in English 1020 Internet Life. The topics we could possibly discuss were covered in a previous blog, but I'd like to explore one more closely.
What is WoW doing to the world?
This is an extremely broad topic, and it could branch off in one of a hundred directions. I could speak of the alternate reality that children these days are attached to, or the multi-million dollar industry that it has created. I could talk about why kids play, or why not. WoW is such a huge global entity, I could teach a class about WoW.
My point of explaining the different items I could discuss shows the multitudes of information available for the class next semester. I can talk about anything, so long as it has two or more sides.
The definition of argue, according to some online dictionary is to put forth reasons for or against. One can argue through any type of media, since it is not restricted, by definition, to a single or small group. Audio, Visual, Touch, Taste, Smell. All of the senses can argue. A nasty smelling food that tastes good argue with itself. The smell puts forth reasons against eating. Most college classes will make one present arguments in paper form. That is, writing paper about arguing a point.
In English Composition 1020, students are to compose argumentative papers based on the broad topic of the class. Whether the class be about body/image or Harry Potter, the topics will be arguing points from the subject matter. I am currently enrolled in English 1020 Internet Life. The topics we could possibly discuss were covered in a previous blog, but I'd like to explore one more closely.
What is WoW doing to the world?
This is an extremely broad topic, and it could branch off in one of a hundred directions. I could speak of the alternate reality that children these days are attached to, or the multi-million dollar industry that it has created. I could talk about why kids play, or why not. WoW is such a huge global entity, I could teach a class about WoW.
My point of explaining the different items I could discuss shows the multitudes of information available for the class next semester. I can talk about anything, so long as it has two or more sides.
In a Manner of Speaking
Internet Life as we know it is coming to an end. Now I will provide you with four to five keys facts about such, which in turn have four to five keys facts of their own. I am to prove to you that either, one, you are wrong about what you think, or two, I am right no matter your opinion. I have to disprove your facts that internet life is blooming, and, at the same time, throw in some new junk. Internet is about the internet and life surrounding the internet.
English 1020, Internet Life, is about arguing facts around life on the internet. There is the possibility to talk about anything. Everything is on the internet, and everything is up for grabs. In 1020, I will argue points from either side of topics such as, the digital media copyright act and social networking. Mrs. Vicki Vitelli is teaching the course, and little known about her.
If English 1020 is anything like 1010, then I will be fine, with much work that is. Some of the topics will be topics like these topics.
Is sharing music for free ethical?
Is it healthy for people to live online in social networks?
What is WoW doing to our world?
What would happen if the www crashed?
English 1020, Internet Life, is about arguing facts around life on the internet. There is the possibility to talk about anything. Everything is on the internet, and everything is up for grabs. In 1020, I will argue points from either side of topics such as, the digital media copyright act and social networking. Mrs. Vicki Vitelli is teaching the course, and little known about her.
If English 1020 is anything like 1010, then I will be fine, with much work that is. Some of the topics will be topics like these topics.
Is sharing music for free ethical?
Is it healthy for people to live online in social networks?
What is WoW doing to our world?
What would happen if the www crashed?
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Christmas in General
What I do for Christmas is...
Every year for Christmas Eve my family and I gather around the tree of Christmas for our Christmas merriments. We open presents until the ground is covered in paper, and the air is filled with all the smells of Christmas present perfumes. We then play with our new toys while daddy cooks Christmas lunch. Then naps all around.
This year, it's all the same. Except for a few things.
My brother is married, and I and boyfriend to the best girl in the world.
I get two Christmases this year. My girlfriend's family and mine. Christmas day will be dedicated to her family, and Eve to mine.
I'm soooo excited. WOOT! Christmas.
Every year for Christmas Eve my family and I gather around the tree of Christmas for our Christmas merriments. We open presents until the ground is covered in paper, and the air is filled with all the smells of Christmas present perfumes. We then play with our new toys while daddy cooks Christmas lunch. Then naps all around.
This year, it's all the same. Except for a few things.
My brother is married, and I and boyfriend to the best girl in the world.
I get two Christmases this year. My girlfriend's family and mine. Christmas day will be dedicated to her family, and Eve to mine.
I'm soooo excited. WOOT! Christmas.
Intervention
There are a great number of individuals addicted to drugs. Their families, loved one(s), and sometimes, even their pets care and worry about them. Most of the people addicted to drugs/actions need help to stop performing the harmful act.
The show intervention showed a meth/ice addict today.
Tressa, the addict, was one of the best shot put throwers the world has ever seen. She grew up on a farm with a loving mom, dad, sister, family. Attending church every Sunday, she grasped religion, and believed in Christianity. All of that changed when in the third year of Olympic competition she was introduced to the gay community.
She soon discovered that she enjoyed the gay life more than any other, and it just so happened that the homosexual communities around where she lived and the drug community were one in the same. She tested positive for cocaine two days before competition, and it all spilled into her home life.
Her parents discovered that she was a drug-addicted lesbian, and pretty much disowned her. She can't get a job, but her family gives her money for performing odd jobs. Little do they know that they are enabling her.
The family called for an intervention.
After deciding that they were also in the wrong, Tressa agreed to treatment, while staying true to her orientation. Everyone is happy again.
The show intervention showed a meth/ice addict today.
Tressa, the addict, was one of the best shot put throwers the world has ever seen. She grew up on a farm with a loving mom, dad, sister, family. Attending church every Sunday, she grasped religion, and believed in Christianity. All of that changed when in the third year of Olympic competition she was introduced to the gay community.
She soon discovered that she enjoyed the gay life more than any other, and it just so happened that the homosexual communities around where she lived and the drug community were one in the same. She tested positive for cocaine two days before competition, and it all spilled into her home life.
Her parents discovered that she was a drug-addicted lesbian, and pretty much disowned her. She can't get a job, but her family gives her money for performing odd jobs. Little do they know that they are enabling her.
The family called for an intervention.
After deciding that they were also in the wrong, Tressa agreed to treatment, while staying true to her orientation. Everyone is happy again.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Poem
Ever changing
Always growing
I think about
Where I'm going
Sitting quietly
Softly wishing
I hope for peace
Dream of missing
The work ahead
A load awaits
Maybe there are
No tears ahead
Everyone says
Don't wish it away
Don't lose your life
Don't be afraid
They just don't know
How hard it is
With new crisis
And blunder kicks
I don't want to go
I don't want to die
I just want to skip the journey
And have peace inside
I'm tired of running
I'm in need of rest
Work is set aside
But I must be the best
I can't let myself
Get ahead of myself
There is a journey
With no shortcuts
I am on my way
To a better life
I just a have to work
To get there
One day
Always growing
I think about
Where I'm going
Sitting quietly
Softly wishing
I hope for peace
Dream of missing
The work ahead
A load awaits
Maybe there are
No tears ahead
Everyone says
Don't wish it away
Don't lose your life
Don't be afraid
They just don't know
How hard it is
With new crisis
And blunder kicks
I don't want to go
I don't want to die
I just want to skip the journey
And have peace inside
I'm tired of running
I'm in need of rest
Work is set aside
But I must be the best
I can't let myself
Get ahead of myself
There is a journey
With no shortcuts
I am on my way
To a better life
I just a have to work
To get there
One day
Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Dos
For the past two weeks, I have been jamming on Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. Its a modern-day styled, first person shooter. with online play. With the Xbox 360, the graphics are stunning, and the gameplay handles very nicely.
The audio seems realistic, and the reaction timing is perfect.
There are some problems with the game through.
It is extremely addicting. I have been playing from sun up to sun down, granted my play time probably maxes out at two hours a day. The online play ranks players, and pits them against players will similar skill level. Therefore, you can't just overpower new players, and you can't be overpowered by experienced players.
I'm so tired right now, but I have 20 more blog posts to post before Wednesday two weeks from now. If I do two a day it'll be easy, but I never keep up with those things. This is the third blog post talking about actually blogging. Okay, time for a real blog post.
The audio seems realistic, and the reaction timing is perfect.
There are some problems with the game through.
It is extremely addicting. I have been playing from sun up to sun down, granted my play time probably maxes out at two hours a day. The online play ranks players, and pits them against players will similar skill level. Therefore, you can't just overpower new players, and you can't be overpowered by experienced players.
I'm so tired right now, but I have 20 more blog posts to post before Wednesday two weeks from now. If I do two a day it'll be easy, but I never keep up with those things. This is the third blog post talking about actually blogging. Okay, time for a real blog post.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Mind Yourself Young One
There are many a person who LOVE to shoot off at the mouth. Verbal diahrrea and such pours from the head cavity. Usually, it's the harmless rants that procure feelings undesired. That certain many a person will begin speaking casually about a topic, move into a rant, then rampage, and before you know it, they are trying to murder someone else mentally.
Those feelings can't be healthy. No one ever said, "Say EVERYTHING that comes to mind." Unless that person was a psychiatrist. There is normally a general agreement between human being, consisting of being kind to one another face to face. We as a single specie, don't like to wage wars, personal or nation-wide [they're on your side]. When a rampaging mental lunatic come pillaging through your life with words of hatred and anger, they probably don't mean it. They are probably just blatantly spouting out any obscenity or vulgarity that comes to mind, because the MAN got them down.
So here's what you do about a situation with a nutcase.
Ask them if they are happy. Once in a blue moon will they say no, but most of the time, they will stop, say yes, and begin to think. After about ten minutes, they will either be crying or asking you the same question. No one likes that question when they are in a defensive state of mind, but it attacks every desire one has, and internally flips them over. Asking if one is happy is like asking if they will tell you their weakness, and of coarse no one wants to tell you that, so they say, "Yes."
Let them rampage and fiddle fart, but keep your mind cool, and you WILL prevail, whether you're happy or not.
Those feelings can't be healthy. No one ever said, "Say EVERYTHING that comes to mind." Unless that person was a psychiatrist. There is normally a general agreement between human being, consisting of being kind to one another face to face. We as a single specie, don't like to wage wars, personal or nation-wide [they're on your side]. When a rampaging mental lunatic come pillaging through your life with words of hatred and anger, they probably don't mean it. They are probably just blatantly spouting out any obscenity or vulgarity that comes to mind, because the MAN got them down.
So here's what you do about a situation with a nutcase.
Ask them if they are happy. Once in a blue moon will they say no, but most of the time, they will stop, say yes, and begin to think. After about ten minutes, they will either be crying or asking you the same question. No one likes that question when they are in a defensive state of mind, but it attacks every desire one has, and internally flips them over. Asking if one is happy is like asking if they will tell you their weakness, and of coarse no one wants to tell you that, so they say, "Yes."
Let them rampage and fiddle fart, but keep your mind cool, and you WILL prevail, whether you're happy or not.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Chapter 0
I'm going to attempt to compose a story in blog form. I'll only write for ten minutes each entry, but I may post 2 or 3 entries a day. I hope this works out, because, if so, the remainder of my post will flow.
He we go.
Thump. Thump. ... Thump. Thump. My heart rang through my cabbage. "OI! Why'd you go and do that you butter up winged dung beetle!"
"Sorry bout that mate. All in a bit of fun."
I had just been a victim of a sidewalk jumper. They are those pesky little kids who wait on the side of the road for a driver that's not paying attention. As soon as the car gets close, they smack the window and scare the noodle-pops out of ya. That little one just made me hang up on me mum. She'll not be none to happy. All right, shhhh. I'm calling her back.
"Hi mum! Sorry bout that, there was a bee in the car... Mum, I know... Yes ma'am... Yes ma'am... Well see I'm on my way to 'er work right now... Okay mum, love ya bye."
Oi, me mum's a nut job. Wanted to know if I was still with my wife. She thinks that I'm like her, like divorce an' all.
[To be continued]
He we go.
Thump. Thump. ... Thump. Thump. My heart rang through my cabbage. "OI! Why'd you go and do that you butter up winged dung beetle!"
"Sorry bout that mate. All in a bit of fun."
I had just been a victim of a sidewalk jumper. They are those pesky little kids who wait on the side of the road for a driver that's not paying attention. As soon as the car gets close, they smack the window and scare the noodle-pops out of ya. That little one just made me hang up on me mum. She'll not be none to happy. All right, shhhh. I'm calling her back.
"Hi mum! Sorry bout that, there was a bee in the car... Mum, I know... Yes ma'am... Yes ma'am... Well see I'm on my way to 'er work right now... Okay mum, love ya bye."
Oi, me mum's a nut job. Wanted to know if I was still with my wife. She thinks that I'm like her, like divorce an' all.
[To be continued]
Registration
Boy howdy, do I wish I wouldn't have waited to get advised.
Well, I guess I didn't really know about what all I was supposed to do. It is the system's fault.
So I have all of my classes on two days, Monday/Wednesday. On Mondays, I'll be going to school from 9:25 to 6:15, and on Wednesdays it'll be until 8:25. I'm looking forward to a long semester. My classes include Chemistry II with lab, Biology I with lab, English Comp. II, and Elementary Statistics.
Chemistry II
I got Ms. Suna again!! She is an awesome teacher and a hilarious person. While she isn't a full time teach, she was my teach for Chem. I, and I believe she did very well. I really enjoyed her style of teaching, because it was very math based. She taught Chem. I by example, not by theory.
Biology I
My teacher is Crum. I don't know her, or her style. Maybe it'll be okay.
English Comp. II
I don't even remember my teacher's name, but I do remember that I'm taking English Comp. II on Internet Life. I'm not sure what all that entails, but it sounded better than sustainability.
Elementary Stats
I found out today that I don't have to take Calc. II, or anything past Calc.
I just have to take Elementary Stats, which has a prequisite of Pre-Cal.
Go me. The hardest math is out of the way.
Overall, I'm pleased with my schedule. I'll get to have Tuesdays and Thursdays off, and I get to work Wednesday morning at the store. Morning = 4 - 9. I am pumped for next semester. I hope Comp. II is better this go round.
Well, I guess I didn't really know about what all I was supposed to do. It is the system's fault.
So I have all of my classes on two days, Monday/Wednesday. On Mondays, I'll be going to school from 9:25 to 6:15, and on Wednesdays it'll be until 8:25. I'm looking forward to a long semester. My classes include Chemistry II with lab, Biology I with lab, English Comp. II, and Elementary Statistics.
Chemistry II
I got Ms. Suna again!! She is an awesome teacher and a hilarious person. While she isn't a full time teach, she was my teach for Chem. I, and I believe she did very well. I really enjoyed her style of teaching, because it was very math based. She taught Chem. I by example, not by theory.
Biology I
My teacher is Crum. I don't know her, or her style. Maybe it'll be okay.
English Comp. II
I don't even remember my teacher's name, but I do remember that I'm taking English Comp. II on Internet Life. I'm not sure what all that entails, but it sounded better than sustainability.
Elementary Stats
I found out today that I don't have to take Calc. II, or anything past Calc.
I just have to take Elementary Stats, which has a prequisite of Pre-Cal.
Go me. The hardest math is out of the way.
Overall, I'm pleased with my schedule. I'll get to have Tuesdays and Thursdays off, and I get to work Wednesday morning at the store. Morning = 4 - 9. I am pumped for next semester. I hope Comp. II is better this go round.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Regeneration?
Scientists have been studying zebra danios' ability to regrow lost fins, repair heart damage, and even generate new nerve cells. These are tiny little fish, up to 2 inches long, that are usually in home aquariums. Some scientists believe that if they find out how it works, then they can replicate it in larger scale for humans. In that case.....
....we have a few things to talk about.
Think of the possibilities.
Soldiers = Wolverine
Cancer = Eh.
Blindness/Deafness/Sense-challenged-ness = GONE
The health benefits from determining how a system that repairs damaged cells would be astronomical. Human would cease to exist on a human level. We would no longer try to live. We just would. Humans could actually focus on more important subjects. Forget rehabilitation. Just take a shot of Re-Grow, and you'll be back in your skin in no time.
Therefore.
It wouldn't ever happen.
The government is corrupt beyond all reason. They would never allow such a wonderful treatment to exist. There is probably a cure for cancer, and the government is covering it up to make money. Whatever government. I hate you, and I'm only 19. Good job.
....we have a few things to talk about.
Think of the possibilities.
Soldiers = Wolverine
Cancer = Eh.
Blindness/Deafness/Sense-challenged-ness = GONE
The health benefits from determining how a system that repairs damaged cells would be astronomical. Human would cease to exist on a human level. We would no longer try to live. We just would. Humans could actually focus on more important subjects. Forget rehabilitation. Just take a shot of Re-Grow, and you'll be back in your skin in no time.
Therefore.
It wouldn't ever happen.
The government is corrupt beyond all reason. They would never allow such a wonderful treatment to exist. There is probably a cure for cancer, and the government is covering it up to make money. Whatever government. I hate you, and I'm only 19. Good job.
What, ah, would you ssaaave?
In the year twenty twelve, on the eve of December twelfth, the world ended. Or moreso, it will end. Supposedly!!!
If the world begins to destroy itself, many things will happen. One, people will FREAK. Not just a little too. There will be mass hysteria, killings, rapings, shootings, looting, any type of sub-human action possible, will occur. Most humans will do the worst things possible and try to destroy others to survive. Two, the world itself will be in shambles. Buildings crumbled inward, great chasms in the Earth. The globe might as well split in two. Finally, a few select people will deem themselves worthy and take themselves, along with some artifacts with them, to a "better safer" place.
Now what "artifacts" might they take?
I don't know about them, but I think I know about myself.
I would start of with the computer, probably as many as would fit. Second, a knife, and not a baby knife for wimps, but a Commander Cool, Cut-U-Up knife. You can survive almost anything with a good knife. Then food, and the means to grow food, such as heritage seeds. I would bring along my family, and my girlfriend and her family. Her dad could have survived the Holocaust on water alone. He is a survivalist and a great person for this type of situation.
There aren't really any "important" items, like memorabilia, that I would take. They can wait. There will be more memories.
If the world begins to destroy itself, many things will happen. One, people will FREAK. Not just a little too. There will be mass hysteria, killings, rapings, shootings, looting, any type of sub-human action possible, will occur. Most humans will do the worst things possible and try to destroy others to survive. Two, the world itself will be in shambles. Buildings crumbled inward, great chasms in the Earth. The globe might as well split in two. Finally, a few select people will deem themselves worthy and take themselves, along with some artifacts with them, to a "better safer" place.
Now what "artifacts" might they take?
I don't know about them, but I think I know about myself.
I would start of with the computer, probably as many as would fit. Second, a knife, and not a baby knife for wimps, but a Commander Cool, Cut-U-Up knife. You can survive almost anything with a good knife. Then food, and the means to grow food, such as heritage seeds. I would bring along my family, and my girlfriend and her family. Her dad could have survived the Holocaust on water alone. He is a survivalist and a great person for this type of situation.
There aren't really any "important" items, like memorabilia, that I would take. They can wait. There will be more memories.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Its 3 AM
Have you ever played around with photo editing programs? W ell, I have, and I do, quite frequently actually. I love manipulating photos and such, but that has nothing to with what this blog is about. It kinda does though.I want to address the matter of stuff you do at 3 AM.
Usually, you are worn out, have been awake for about 24 hours, everyone else is asleep, and you have been eating all night. That's how it usually goes for me, but not tonight. I have not been eating all night. I am just AWAKE, and I wanted something to do, so I edited a picture and am writing a blog entry [post].
Here's the photo I edited.I really liked the fact that it was black and white, and that it has a sense of character, even thought the subject is not expressing emotion. Is she frowning or smiling? Tired or old? Or both? This picture gave me something to play around with.
The real difficulty was in smoothing the cheek, but I think I did a fine job.
Anyway, why do people stay up until the crack of dawn? Is it so that they won't "miss out"? Or to beat depression? What about insomnia? I think that there are MANY reasons to stay up late, and many more reasons for those reasons, but all in all I think it is pretty simple.
Here is the final picture.
People, if given the choice, would rather not sleep. I wouldn't sleep, except for the occasional dream.
I'll talk about dreams tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Abstract Poetry
Benevolent bovines dressed in black
Corporate kaisers in red
Snaggle-tooth Raggle-top
Bling-bling Ching-ching
Snooty mouths Tooty downs
Baggy clothes Showin toes
This is the face of the new America
Characterized by above
Stealing from the land
Go back, young ones
Corporate kaisers in red
Snaggle-tooth Raggle-top
Bling-bling Ching-ching
Snooty mouths Tooty downs
Baggy clothes Showin toes
This is the face of the new America
Characterized by above
Stealing from the land
Go back, young ones
Sniffy the Snarfing Snoogle
I'm going to try a story.
Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a quiet mouse who lived in the hay.
He'd scant from to and fro, left and right, high and low
Round and Round he'd look for food burying all he thought tastes good
All year long he stocked and piled
And he realized how crappy his poem was becoming.
The mouse was going to build up a bunch of food so that he could hibernate.
Then a rat was going to come dig it up and eat it.
Then the mouse and rat were to get into a huge fight and one would stand atop the bout victorious.
Too bad the food was already gone.
The winner must live a cardboard matchbox that rest of his life.
Oh yeah, the mouse won.
Way to go mouse.
Now you are depressed, living in a mouse shak, and have no food.
What about winter?
Going to stay awake the whole time?
Yeah right.
Good luck with that.
I hope a hawk gets you.
Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a quiet mouse who lived in the hay.
He'd scant from to and fro, left and right, high and low
Round and Round he'd look for food burying all he thought tastes good
All year long he stocked and piled
And he realized how crappy his poem was becoming.
The mouse was going to build up a bunch of food so that he could hibernate.
Then a rat was going to come dig it up and eat it.
Then the mouse and rat were to get into a huge fight and one would stand atop the bout victorious.
Too bad the food was already gone.
The winner must live a cardboard matchbox that rest of his life.
Oh yeah, the mouse won.
Way to go mouse.
Now you are depressed, living in a mouse shak, and have no food.
What about winter?
Going to stay awake the whole time?
Yeah right.
Good luck with that.
I hope a hawk gets you.
And Now for the TOP 25!
Thanksgiving...
A Time to Give Thanks
When most people hoard food and eat until they pass out.
Thanks Thanksgiving for making America fat!
Haha. Anyway, this is a list of stuff I'm thankful for and possibly a few things I'm thankful to not have. In the spirit of November, I would like to make this post for my Irish friends.
Let's get it started in HA!
1. Me bruhthers
2. Me mum and dod
3. Me luvin guhrlfriend
4. Me home
5. Me cah
6. I luv me brain
7. This laptop is noice too
8. I eat food everydeh
9. I wear clean clothes everydeh
10. I especially loike me socks
Okay, enough with the accent, it's clouding me brain!
11. I'm thankful for God
12. and Jesus
13. and Church
14. and the air
15. and the Bible
16. and that Jesus dies for me
17. and that God sent Jesus to die for me
18. and that Jesus died for me because God sent Jesus to die for me
11. I'm thankful for my college scholarship. Woot! Woot!
12. I have an okay job.
13. I work with mostly awesome people.
14. I'm setting up a fish tank!
15. I don't have any broken bones.
16. I don't smell bad. [I hope]
17. I have good vision.
18. I can taste stuff.
19. I can feel. Oh how I can feel. [Sicko]
20. I love food and how it tastes!
21. I can hear music without the aid of hearing aids.
22. I am thankful for the rain. My Farmville needed it.
23. I can remember things that I don't even focus on.
24. I don't have ANY problems with my girlfriend, which rocks.
25. Last, but most of all, I have great friends, and I love and miss them.
Pleased?
A Time to Give Thanks
When most people hoard food and eat until they pass out.
Thanks Thanksgiving for making America fat!
Haha. Anyway, this is a list of stuff I'm thankful for and possibly a few things I'm thankful to not have. In the spirit of November, I would like to make this post for my Irish friends.
Let's get it started in HA!
1. Me bruhthers
2. Me mum and dod
3. Me luvin guhrlfriend
4. Me home
5. Me cah
6. I luv me brain
7. This laptop is noice too
8. I eat food everydeh
9. I wear clean clothes everydeh
10. I especially loike me socks
Okay, enough with the accent, it's clouding me brain!
11. I'm thankful for God
12. and Jesus
13. and Church
14. and the air
15. and the Bible
16. and that Jesus dies for me
17. and that God sent Jesus to die for me
18. and that Jesus died for me because God sent Jesus to die for me
11. I'm thankful for my college scholarship. Woot! Woot!
12. I have an okay job.
13. I work with mostly awesome people.
14. I'm setting up a fish tank!
15. I don't have any broken bones.
16. I don't smell bad. [I hope]
17. I have good vision.
18. I can taste stuff.
19. I can feel. Oh how I can feel. [Sicko]
20. I love food and how it tastes!
21. I can hear music without the aid of hearing aids.
22. I am thankful for the rain. My Farmville needed it.
23. I can remember things that I don't even focus on.
24. I don't have ANY problems with my girlfriend, which rocks.
25. Last, but most of all, I have great friends, and I love and miss them.
Pleased?
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
A Spec in a Sea of Loathing
Importance can be described as a trait of many parts of one's life. Tagging it to an event is easy, but explaining why is a different story. My being born was important. "Why?" I don't know. My graduating high school was important. "Why?" A couple of reasons.
My coming to AUM is important. "Why?"
Well, I'll tell ya Chip.
I have come to AUM first and foremost to get an education. Duh, right? It's so cliched that it's a cliche to say it's cliched, but I mean it. I may want to flew through college, but I really want to learn. If knowledge is power, and power is knowledge, then why do so many nimrods graduate from colleges? I don't want to be a simple-minded waste-of-skin. The obvious is for an education.
Why AUM, as apposed to ANYwhere else?
It wasn't always AUM. I used to really long for Sanford University in Birmingham. It was the most prestine college in Alabama. Its campus stood on a pedestal above all else, and the education was supposed to be outstanding. Its tuition also lies in the range of about $40,000 a year, and they wouldn't grant me a scholarship, so I got over it. I began looking for smaller schools, maybe Auburn or Alabama, but my guidance counselor ranked. She couldn't put together an interesting speech, much less coordinate the entire senior classes college applications. She said that she would send stuff in, but to no avail. I just settled for AUM, because they let me get a scholarship after the deadline. I figured that I was placed in the boat.
It isn't that bad though. I like AUM, and the student/teacher population. It is still "Hometown-ish." Everyone here grew up around here, so its nice to have a certain sense of similarity to everyone I don't know. My brother also lives about 6 miles away, off of Ann St, and he is letting me live with him. It was probably in the cards to let me live here.
My coming to AUM is important. "Why?"
Well, I'll tell ya Chip.
I have come to AUM first and foremost to get an education. Duh, right? It's so cliched that it's a cliche to say it's cliched, but I mean it. I may want to flew through college, but I really want to learn. If knowledge is power, and power is knowledge, then why do so many nimrods graduate from colleges? I don't want to be a simple-minded waste-of-skin. The obvious is for an education.
Why AUM, as apposed to ANYwhere else?
It wasn't always AUM. I used to really long for Sanford University in Birmingham. It was the most prestine college in Alabama. Its campus stood on a pedestal above all else, and the education was supposed to be outstanding. Its tuition also lies in the range of about $40,000 a year, and they wouldn't grant me a scholarship, so I got over it. I began looking for smaller schools, maybe Auburn or Alabama, but my guidance counselor ranked. She couldn't put together an interesting speech, much less coordinate the entire senior classes college applications. She said that she would send stuff in, but to no avail. I just settled for AUM, because they let me get a scholarship after the deadline. I figured that I was placed in the boat.
It isn't that bad though. I like AUM, and the student/teacher population. It is still "Hometown-ish." Everyone here grew up around here, so its nice to have a certain sense of similarity to everyone I don't know. My brother also lives about 6 miles away, off of Ann St, and he is letting me live with him. It was probably in the cards to let me live here.
Semester Closestart
This semester is coming to a close, and all the little adults are chattering their mouths about what to take next semester.
"I wanna take all math."
"I don't ever want to see English again."
I know what I want. I just don't know how to get it.
I want to get into Chem. 2 with Ms. Suna, Calc. 2 with whomever, any Bio 1, and English 1020.
I have to take a LOT of Chemistry and Biology, because I'm a pre-pharm student, but the Calculus and English I just want out of the way. I pretty much loath writing papers, so the sooner it's gone, the better. Calculus is a pretty fun class, but it is one of those that if I stop, it is really hard to continue. Biology needs to get started on, and next semester is the time to do it. Chemistry with Ms. Suna is a trip, and she's teaching it next semester.
The schedule though, I want all on one day. [Two days actually, but you know what I mean.] I want to take all my classes on Tuesday and Thursday, and if possible, I want to take as many microterms as possible. I'm pretty sure that I can breeze through those four cores easy. It's this semester that I'm not sure about. English is the only class giving me fits. I'm ready to be done.
"I wanna take all math."
"I don't ever want to see English again."
I know what I want. I just don't know how to get it.
I want to get into Chem. 2 with Ms. Suna, Calc. 2 with whomever, any Bio 1, and English 1020.
I have to take a LOT of Chemistry and Biology, because I'm a pre-pharm student, but the Calculus and English I just want out of the way. I pretty much loath writing papers, so the sooner it's gone, the better. Calculus is a pretty fun class, but it is one of those that if I stop, it is really hard to continue. Biology needs to get started on, and next semester is the time to do it. Chemistry with Ms. Suna is a trip, and she's teaching it next semester.
The schedule though, I want all on one day. [Two days actually, but you know what I mean.] I want to take all my classes on Tuesday and Thursday, and if possible, I want to take as many microterms as possible. I'm pretty sure that I can breeze through those four cores easy. It's this semester that I'm not sure about. English is the only class giving me fits. I'm ready to be done.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Food for Life
Haha. The title usually refers to Jesus, but I'm talking about food food.
On the subject of Mexican food in the Prattville area, there are quite a few places one can go. Starting from downtown and spreading out, you could eat at Jose's Cantina on McQueen Smith or at Pablano's [part of the Jalapeno's chain] next to Wal-Mart and Micheals. Further down the road, there is a little Las Casitas, and way out in Pine Level, Jose built a Grill, Jose's Grill.
On the subject of comparing/contrasting the food to each other, I'm going to use Jose's Cantina in the light of Las Casitas. I work next to Las Casitas, so I get lunch there every other minute, but "Jose's", down the road, blows the rest out of the water. Las Casitas, from about 10AM - 3PM is a barren wasteland. Except for a few straggling customers, cautiously entering what seems to be a closed store, and the 3 or 4 waiters almost drooling for tips, there is nobody around. With a high vaulted ceiling, and towering windows, Las Casitas feels like a lonely castle, ever knowing that its owner deserted it decades ago.
Jose's during daylight, on the other hand, is a warm and cozy lounge. It is usually filled to the brim with business, and waiters that care for the waitee. With deep, melodic, Spanish music roaming through the air, and one of the last smoking areas in the state, Jose's, shows visitors what Alabama Mexican is like.
Now for the food.
Las Casitas has a decent variety of food. The average burrito/enchilada/taco/quesadilla mix. The burritos are runny, the enchiladas are burnt, the taco don't have enough meat, and the quesadillas are to die for. They might actually kill you. The only good eat at Las Casitas is the refried beans, spanish rice, cheese dip, salsa, and chip combo. For $5 you can fill your stomach twice with Mexican Ambrosia. I get it every time I venture into Little Houses.
Jose's has the same food, just like all Mexican joints, but Jose's is goooooood. The burritos are covered with thick and creamy cheese and are crispy, the enchiladas are cooked to perfection, the tacos are blended so every bite has the right consistancy, and the quesadillas are packed with cheese and meat. Oh! It is good. I recommend any person passing through or near Prattville should stop and have a bite at Jose's.
Did I mention Jose is known throughout Prattville too?
He's kinda like a local celebrity.
On the subject of Mexican food in the Prattville area, there are quite a few places one can go. Starting from downtown and spreading out, you could eat at Jose's Cantina on McQueen Smith or at Pablano's [part of the Jalapeno's chain] next to Wal-Mart and Micheals. Further down the road, there is a little Las Casitas, and way out in Pine Level, Jose built a Grill, Jose's Grill.
On the subject of comparing/contrasting the food to each other, I'm going to use Jose's Cantina in the light of Las Casitas. I work next to Las Casitas, so I get lunch there every other minute, but "Jose's", down the road, blows the rest out of the water. Las Casitas, from about 10AM - 3PM is a barren wasteland. Except for a few straggling customers, cautiously entering what seems to be a closed store, and the 3 or 4 waiters almost drooling for tips, there is nobody around. With a high vaulted ceiling, and towering windows, Las Casitas feels like a lonely castle, ever knowing that its owner deserted it decades ago.
Jose's during daylight, on the other hand, is a warm and cozy lounge. It is usually filled to the brim with business, and waiters that care for the waitee. With deep, melodic, Spanish music roaming through the air, and one of the last smoking areas in the state, Jose's, shows visitors what Alabama Mexican is like.
Now for the food.
Las Casitas has a decent variety of food. The average burrito/enchilada/taco/quesadilla mix. The burritos are runny, the enchiladas are burnt, the taco don't have enough meat, and the quesadillas are to die for. They might actually kill you. The only good eat at Las Casitas is the refried beans, spanish rice, cheese dip, salsa, and chip combo. For $5 you can fill your stomach twice with Mexican Ambrosia. I get it every time I venture into Little Houses.
Jose's has the same food, just like all Mexican joints, but Jose's is goooooood. The burritos are covered with thick and creamy cheese and are crispy, the enchiladas are cooked to perfection, the tacos are blended so every bite has the right consistancy, and the quesadillas are packed with cheese and meat. Oh! It is good. I recommend any person passing through or near Prattville should stop and have a bite at Jose's.
Did I mention Jose is known throughout Prattville too?
He's kinda like a local celebrity.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Whitest Kids You Know...
...is a show that used to air on iFC. It is an independently produced and filmed show.
It started out as a small skit show between some friends. As another comedy skit show, most critics thought it would pass under the radar, and not get much viewerdom, but they were mistaken. During the first season, the team created many politically incorrect scenarios and proved tasteful to almost all teenagers.
One such act.
The scene began with a producer sitting behind a table that has multitudes of clutter upon it. He has a chart behind him with some small red markings, and he gets a knock on the door. After giving permission to enter, a young man, well dressed, walks through the door, pulling along a TV on a stand. The producer asks what he has to offer, and the young man turns on the TV. A quick song is played about a man riding a bike and being struck by lightning. He can then read very fast, and he becomes a doctor.
It was racist.
The producer knocks it down along with "Jew Town", "Too many lesbos", and "He looks a little too Mexican".
That sort of off beat humor appeals to a lot of people. Dave Chappel proved that 3 years ago. Whitest Kids may have flown under the radar, but everyone was looking there.
It started out as a small skit show between some friends. As another comedy skit show, most critics thought it would pass under the radar, and not get much viewerdom, but they were mistaken. During the first season, the team created many politically incorrect scenarios and proved tasteful to almost all teenagers.
One such act.
The scene began with a producer sitting behind a table that has multitudes of clutter upon it. He has a chart behind him with some small red markings, and he gets a knock on the door. After giving permission to enter, a young man, well dressed, walks through the door, pulling along a TV on a stand. The producer asks what he has to offer, and the young man turns on the TV. A quick song is played about a man riding a bike and being struck by lightning. He can then read very fast, and he becomes a doctor.
It was racist.
The producer knocks it down along with "Jew Town", "Too many lesbos", and "He looks a little too Mexican".
That sort of off beat humor appeals to a lot of people. Dave Chappel proved that 3 years ago. Whitest Kids may have flown under the radar, but everyone was looking there.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Let Them Grow
On TED
Gever Tulley's Five Dangerous Things You Should Let Your Kid Do
Tulley talks on letting kids be curious and a wee bit dangerous. In order to live, one must explore. How can our children grow and actually care about the world around them if all we do is protect them from it. He talks about how child protection laws have become so stringent that kids can't even have fun anymore. He talks about letting your children play with fire, own a knife, even drive a car. When kids are kids, their minds are like sponges and they can learn faster than an adult, so why not let them play. Yes, they might get bruised and cut, but so long as you lay down simple safety rules, they will won't be horribly disfigured.
Such as with knifes. Cut away. Never force. Or fires. It's hot. Don't jump in. Keep your face away.
Kids need to explore their surroundings in order to get a grasp on the world. If you don't understand the small things, how is it even possible to start to understand the larger parts of life. He talks about letting the kids take apart old appliances just to see what's inside. You never know what they can learn from looking at the guts of a dilapidated computer. If you let your child be a free children, and give them some of the "dangerous" toys of the world, they will become stronger people. They will further push the boundaries of what we know. Creativity is the life force of a scientific world.
Let your kids experiment. Let your kids taste life.
Tulley's five topics were:
Play with Fire
Own a knife
Throw a Spear
Dismantle Appliances
Break the DMCA / Drive a Car
Gever Tulley's Five Dangerous Things You Should Let Your Kid Do
Tulley talks on letting kids be curious and a wee bit dangerous. In order to live, one must explore. How can our children grow and actually care about the world around them if all we do is protect them from it. He talks about how child protection laws have become so stringent that kids can't even have fun anymore. He talks about letting your children play with fire, own a knife, even drive a car. When kids are kids, their minds are like sponges and they can learn faster than an adult, so why not let them play. Yes, they might get bruised and cut, but so long as you lay down simple safety rules, they will won't be horribly disfigured.
Such as with knifes. Cut away. Never force. Or fires. It's hot. Don't jump in. Keep your face away.
Kids need to explore their surroundings in order to get a grasp on the world. If you don't understand the small things, how is it even possible to start to understand the larger parts of life. He talks about letting the kids take apart old appliances just to see what's inside. You never know what they can learn from looking at the guts of a dilapidated computer. If you let your child be a free children, and give them some of the "dangerous" toys of the world, they will become stronger people. They will further push the boundaries of what we know. Creativity is the life force of a scientific world.
Let your kids experiment. Let your kids taste life.
Tulley's five topics were:
Play with Fire
Own a knife
Throw a Spear
Dismantle Appliances
Break the DMCA / Drive a Car
Hang in There Kitty
This semester has been exhausting. All thought has turned to mush, and all desires have become sleep. I never really knew why people took electives. Not until I started college.
At the beginning of this semester I decided that I didn't want any elective type classes, such as art or music. I wanted to zoom through AUM, so that I could hurry and start and finish my collegiate career. "I just want to start working in a real job" I can remember thinking. So I took on English Comp 1, Chem 1, ECON 1, and Calculus 1. Four real classes, with real work. ECON is really easy, and has barely any homework. Chem has no homework, but it has a lab to keep up on your toes. English has sort of homework, but its the kind that really takes effort for a good grade. And then there's Calculus.
Today I half-way skipped Calculus. I went in and got my test results, and asked the teacher what sections he was going over. He gave my test back and let me know, and I was on my way. I had a Chem lab report to type and a Test this afternoon. But back on Calc. As I looked over the test results sheet, I realized that I did it. I made a 100 on my test. It was an awesome feeling.
I remember just a month or so ago complaining about how hard Calculus was, and how it was going to kill me. I think that I need more sleep and less work, but overall I'm doing alright. Next semester, I want to take four more core classes, and move even closer to my goal.
At the beginning of this semester I decided that I didn't want any elective type classes, such as art or music. I wanted to zoom through AUM, so that I could hurry and start and finish my collegiate career. "I just want to start working in a real job" I can remember thinking. So I took on English Comp 1, Chem 1, ECON 1, and Calculus 1. Four real classes, with real work. ECON is really easy, and has barely any homework. Chem has no homework, but it has a lab to keep up on your toes. English has sort of homework, but its the kind that really takes effort for a good grade. And then there's Calculus.
Today I half-way skipped Calculus. I went in and got my test results, and asked the teacher what sections he was going over. He gave my test back and let me know, and I was on my way. I had a Chem lab report to type and a Test this afternoon. But back on Calc. As I looked over the test results sheet, I realized that I did it. I made a 100 on my test. It was an awesome feeling.
I remember just a month or so ago complaining about how hard Calculus was, and how it was going to kill me. I think that I need more sleep and less work, but overall I'm doing alright. Next semester, I want to take four more core classes, and move even closer to my goal.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Ten Years Gone
Where do I seeist myself in ten years?
Where does anyone see themselves in ten years?
Why do we bother the future?
Doesn't the present present enough to sustain us?
Well, for the sake of blogging.
I wish to see myself as a pharmacist in ten years. I would really like to be an owner of a local drug store, running all the business. I want to have two kids, but in ten years, one will be enough. I want to own a large house, with nice stuff, but not just to have nice stuff. I want most of the "nice stuff" to be yard-sale fix-me-ups. I want to refurnish a home with hand-me-downs and fixer-uppers. I want to be married. If my current girlfriend is my future wife, I'm absolutely perfect with that. I want to live in Prattville, NOT Montgomery. I want to own a Jeep. I want my parents debts paid off completely. I want my older brother happy, and my younger brother in school, and I want my grandparents living easy.
Now let's get for real.
In ten years. I'll probably be a pharmacist. I'll probably live in Prattville. I'll probably have a Jeep. I cannot control the future. I can only dream. I really want my family to be debt free and happy. I would LOVE to marry someone and have a child or two. I would like to be able to live out some hobbies. I want to be alive.
2012 people. Not really. But maybe. Maybe things will change. Maybe I'll live to see 3012.
Where does anyone see themselves in ten years?
Why do we bother the future?
Doesn't the present present enough to sustain us?
Well, for the sake of blogging.
I wish to see myself as a pharmacist in ten years. I would really like to be an owner of a local drug store, running all the business. I want to have two kids, but in ten years, one will be enough. I want to own a large house, with nice stuff, but not just to have nice stuff. I want most of the "nice stuff" to be yard-sale fix-me-ups. I want to refurnish a home with hand-me-downs and fixer-uppers. I want to be married. If my current girlfriend is my future wife, I'm absolutely perfect with that. I want to live in Prattville, NOT Montgomery. I want to own a Jeep. I want my parents debts paid off completely. I want my older brother happy, and my younger brother in school, and I want my grandparents living easy.
Now let's get for real.
In ten years. I'll probably be a pharmacist. I'll probably live in Prattville. I'll probably have a Jeep. I cannot control the future. I can only dream. I really want my family to be debt free and happy. I would LOVE to marry someone and have a child or two. I would like to be able to live out some hobbies. I want to be alive.
2012 people. Not really. But maybe. Maybe things will change. Maybe I'll live to see 3012.
Apologies
The human psyche is a wonderfully scary abstract. At the drop of a pin, one can move from extreme euphoria to rage. When the mind is under the effects of drugs, the changes are swifter and more pronounced. In a state of physical unawareness and drug abuse one can lose control of his/her emotions and cease to be humane. They become sub-human.
When one neglects to sleep, eat, or do any of the necessary functions, they can enter a state of moodiness and uncontrolled mindsets. They become sub-human. The lack of sleep one can enact on his/hes own body does as much damage as the same person abusing medications or narcotics.
Last night, I was up until 1 o'clock finishing my paper. I had refused my body sleep. I had entered the state of unbeing. I was sub-human. I could not control my emotions, and I had become ill with the idea of writing another paper. I blogged about how I hate English.
Okay, English. I apologize. There was no call for an outlash upon the scholarly principle of being able to communicate through intricate stories and twisted dialouge. I don't really hate English, although I am a science guy. Not Bill Nye. But I more so just refute having to write another paper. I wish this would be over, and I would have my degree. Oh that would be the day.
When one neglects to sleep, eat, or do any of the necessary functions, they can enter a state of moodiness and uncontrolled mindsets. They become sub-human. The lack of sleep one can enact on his/hes own body does as much damage as the same person abusing medications or narcotics.
Last night, I was up until 1 o'clock finishing my paper. I had refused my body sleep. I had entered the state of unbeing. I was sub-human. I could not control my emotions, and I had become ill with the idea of writing another paper. I blogged about how I hate English.
Okay, English. I apologize. There was no call for an outlash upon the scholarly principle of being able to communicate through intricate stories and twisted dialouge. I don't really hate English, although I am a science guy. Not Bill Nye. But I more so just refute having to write another paper. I wish this would be over, and I would have my degree. Oh that would be the day.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Profiles Suck
Everyone in my English Comp 1010 class was assigned to compose a Profile of someone in our field of study. I've already blogged about the interview and how it was alright. It was the only part that was alright. I hate writing. I hate composing. I have decided that I will never write for a living thanks to this profile. Even the kind lady I interviewed for the Profile said that she barely writes at all. She only has to communicate in writing. I can communicate in notes. I don't have to draft a thesis and brainstorm a perfect paper. I can just note it out. Unfortunately I have 6 years of school left, and I have to write a lot.
The reason I realized that I hate this paper lies in the process of review. I can't see past my own writing, and that is a serious problem. I look at what I write, and I understand it. I don't see a reason to rewrite or even change what I have written. I really need another to look at what I've done, and tell me what's wrong. Science is not the same at all. There is no need to rewrite, if I understand, then you understand, and there is no need for opinion in science. If opinion is needed to understand the science, then it is a psuedo-science, but that's for another day.
I needed a review, and I couldn't get one back until tonight at 10:30, and that's late even for me. I really need an "A" too, so I had to do it. Now I'm really tired, but I'm blogging, because I need an "A". I'm a science guy, and I don't like English. This profile assignment concluded that. Thank you Mrs. Simms. Now I hate Comp.
The reason I realized that I hate this paper lies in the process of review. I can't see past my own writing, and that is a serious problem. I look at what I write, and I understand it. I don't see a reason to rewrite or even change what I have written. I really need another to look at what I've done, and tell me what's wrong. Science is not the same at all. There is no need to rewrite, if I understand, then you understand, and there is no need for opinion in science. If opinion is needed to understand the science, then it is a psuedo-science, but that's for another day.
I needed a review, and I couldn't get one back until tonight at 10:30, and that's late even for me. I really need an "A" too, so I had to do it. Now I'm really tired, but I'm blogging, because I need an "A". I'm a science guy, and I don't like English. This profile assignment concluded that. Thank you Mrs. Simms. Now I hate Comp.
Monday, October 26, 2009
On The Interview
In English Comp. we are writing a profile paper on an individual in our field of study. We must decide who is to be our subject, interview them about their life/work/study/stuff, and write a paper about them with an angle. I'm a pre-pharmacy student, and my mom is a pharmacy tech, so I got her to set me up an interview with one of her bosses, Mrs. Cathy Cowart.
On the Friday morning before the draft was due, I met Mrs. Cowart for lunch at Moe's. I showed up about 15 minutes early, so I went ahead and ordered my lunch. Chicken and cheese burrito and sweet tea. When she came in, it was pretty awkward. I hadn't seen her in forever, and I didn't know what to say. So, I walked up, shook her hand, introduced myself, and tried not to throw up. I was so nervous. After she got her food and sat down, I just started as flat out as I could. I said that my paper was about someone in my field, and that it was awesome that she could come. I remember I kept agreeing with what she said, but I didn't have a clue some times.
Well the interview went alright. I copied down some things, but most stuff, I kept via memory. We talked about college, about jobs, and about life. After the interview stuff was over, I just asked her some questions about what I should do with my college stuff. We stood up, shook hands, said our goodbyes, and went on our way. It ended up being a very nice experience. Mrs. Cathy was an awesome lady, and I hope to see her again soon.
On the Friday morning before the draft was due, I met Mrs. Cowart for lunch at Moe's. I showed up about 15 minutes early, so I went ahead and ordered my lunch. Chicken and cheese burrito and sweet tea. When she came in, it was pretty awkward. I hadn't seen her in forever, and I didn't know what to say. So, I walked up, shook her hand, introduced myself, and tried not to throw up. I was so nervous. After she got her food and sat down, I just started as flat out as I could. I said that my paper was about someone in my field, and that it was awesome that she could come. I remember I kept agreeing with what she said, but I didn't have a clue some times.
Well the interview went alright. I copied down some things, but most stuff, I kept via memory. We talked about college, about jobs, and about life. After the interview stuff was over, I just asked her some questions about what I should do with my college stuff. We stood up, shook hands, said our goodbyes, and went on our way. It ended up being a very nice experience. Mrs. Cathy was an awesome lady, and I hope to see her again soon.
Trick or Treating.....or Not
Waaayyyy back when I was little, I kept very few of my Halloween memories, or maybe I just didn't participate. I only remember one particular Halloween from my childhood.
I lived in Back Woods Alabama, farther out than any suburb, or regular rural area. My graduating class was a whopping 63 if that helps. Walking door-to-door saying "Trick-or-Treat" wasn't really an option, so our parents resorted to something a little different. We went car trick or treating. My friends Matt, Jason, Chris, and I piled in Jason's mom's van, and sped way into the night. We stopped at any house that was a reasonable distance from the road, with its lights on, and "Trick or Treat"ed them. I'm pretty sure I was a devil/demon/thingy, kinda like death. I had a black draping robe, with a black mask, and long flowy black sleeves. And a sickle. The sickle that represents Halloween so well. Long, black plastic tube topped with a plastic, cheaper than dirt, "blade". Great loot.
Halloween never meant much to me until a couple of years ago. I re-started trick or treating when I was about 15, and it changes every year. That year, 2006, my friends Kate, Kayleigh, and Winston, and I went Trick or Treating in Prattville neighborhoods and we scored more candy than any year previous. I was a goth kid, Kate was a bumblebee, I'm not sure what Kayleigh was, and Winston was a KKK ghost. We probably tricked and treated for about 4 hours, each getting at least two pillow cases of candy, and we watch scary movies until we all passed out.
Then, I decided that I will at least participate in all Halloweens, so, this year, I'm going to be Ron Jeremy and cream the competition. ;D
I lived in Back Woods Alabama, farther out than any suburb, or regular rural area. My graduating class was a whopping 63 if that helps. Walking door-to-door saying "Trick-or-Treat" wasn't really an option, so our parents resorted to something a little different. We went car trick or treating. My friends Matt, Jason, Chris, and I piled in Jason's mom's van, and sped way into the night. We stopped at any house that was a reasonable distance from the road, with its lights on, and "Trick or Treat"ed them. I'm pretty sure I was a devil/demon/thingy, kinda like death. I had a black draping robe, with a black mask, and long flowy black sleeves. And a sickle. The sickle that represents Halloween so well. Long, black plastic tube topped with a plastic, cheaper than dirt, "blade". Great loot.
Halloween never meant much to me until a couple of years ago. I re-started trick or treating when I was about 15, and it changes every year. That year, 2006, my friends Kate, Kayleigh, and Winston, and I went Trick or Treating in Prattville neighborhoods and we scored more candy than any year previous. I was a goth kid, Kate was a bumblebee, I'm not sure what Kayleigh was, and Winston was a KKK ghost. We probably tricked and treated for about 4 hours, each getting at least two pillow cases of candy, and we watch scary movies until we all passed out.
Then, I decided that I will at least participate in all Halloweens, so, this year, I'm going to be Ron Jeremy and cream the competition. ;D
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Farmville....Friend or Foe?
Have you ever wondered why people play games?
Does it make any sense?
I can only derive a small bit of logic out of it, but I'm sure someone else has already found the answer. I think people play video games to escape their surroundings at first, then further play, because it is as if their second world needs them. The subordinate world does not move on without them, and such is the wasy of the video game. People must play or the other realm will become stagnant and useless, proving to be a waist of time.
Well, there is a game titled "Farmville" on Facebook, and damn the makers of such an atrocity. It started out as a way to cure my curiousity and quiet the cats. You just ploy land, plant crops, wait for them to grow, harvest/sell them, and repeat. Sounds simple enough. You can let them wither away if you wait too long, which makes you start over, having lost all the money put in to planting it. There are also animals, buildings, trees, and decorations, but those are for another post.
I'm not quite addicted, but I can see myself being. It's rough out there in Farmville world, especially when your friends/neighbors want you to send gifts every day, and you have sent out too many already. I really need to stop, but even my teacher plays. I think everyone is addicted, and if they aren't, they should be.
Does the time video games take up really affect our world?
Yes.
In a negative light?
That's up to you, the reader to decide, but my views are as follows.
No, video games do not affect the real world in a negative sense. They teach morals, which no one is getting in church nowadays. They improve hand eye coordination. They even make grouups of people, who would never have a common aspect about them, come together to rejoice in addiction and world changing. Video games [and Farmville] achieve what Christians and cultists work to achieve.
Let it be.
Does it make any sense?
I can only derive a small bit of logic out of it, but I'm sure someone else has already found the answer. I think people play video games to escape their surroundings at first, then further play, because it is as if their second world needs them. The subordinate world does not move on without them, and such is the wasy of the video game. People must play or the other realm will become stagnant and useless, proving to be a waist of time.
Well, there is a game titled "Farmville" on Facebook, and damn the makers of such an atrocity. It started out as a way to cure my curiousity and quiet the cats. You just ploy land, plant crops, wait for them to grow, harvest/sell them, and repeat. Sounds simple enough. You can let them wither away if you wait too long, which makes you start over, having lost all the money put in to planting it. There are also animals, buildings, trees, and decorations, but those are for another post.
I'm not quite addicted, but I can see myself being. It's rough out there in Farmville world, especially when your friends/neighbors want you to send gifts every day, and you have sent out too many already. I really need to stop, but even my teacher plays. I think everyone is addicted, and if they aren't, they should be.
Does the time video games take up really affect our world?
Yes.
In a negative light?
That's up to you, the reader to decide, but my views are as follows.
No, video games do not affect the real world in a negative sense. They teach morals, which no one is getting in church nowadays. They improve hand eye coordination. They even make grouups of people, who would never have a common aspect about them, come together to rejoice in addiction and world changing. Video games [and Farmville] achieve what Christians and cultists work to achieve.
Let it be.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
What I Do.
Currently, I work at Petsmart in Prattville as a Pet Care Specialist, and as a floater, or one who floats, whenever they need me. I work about 25 hours a week, which works out to be about 4 days a week. I always have Thursday off, and I usually have two days off every weekend. I enjoy my schedule, but my job is quite a bit boring. In general I take care of the animals and talk to customers who have questions about them.
In taking care of the animals, I perform several tasks. First, we carry five different types of animals at Petsmart: fish, cats, reptiles, birds, and small animals.
For the fish, I clean the tanks, all 100 of them, including scrubbing the algae away, gravel vacuuming the rocks, and changing the water in the floor tank. I also feed and check for signs of illness. If any fish show signals that it may be sick, I transport the fish to the sick room, and medicate it.
For cats, it is pretty simple. The cats we carry are from the Humane Shelter, but we take care of them while they are at our store. I make sure the cats have food and water, and I clean out the habitats and litter boxes.
For the reptiles, I ensure that all have been fed on the days needed, and I make sure clean water is provided. Some reptiles, such as Chinese Water Dragons and frogs, need to be misted twice daily, and I get that done.
For the birds, again, I feed and water them, but I also keep the birds stocked with available millet spray and timothy hay (only some birds). With the larger birds, I help socialize them by handling and talking to them.
For the small animals (i.e. Guinea Pigs, Hamster, Rats, etc.), I make sure they have food and water, a clean home, and are healthy.
In general, my job sounds like it would be fun. I get to play with animals all the time, but it's just boring. Cleaning takes the most time, and in a 25 hour week, I probably spend about 15 hours just cleaning. So that's what I do. My job in a nutshell.
In taking care of the animals, I perform several tasks. First, we carry five different types of animals at Petsmart: fish, cats, reptiles, birds, and small animals.
For the fish, I clean the tanks, all 100 of them, including scrubbing the algae away, gravel vacuuming the rocks, and changing the water in the floor tank. I also feed and check for signs of illness. If any fish show signals that it may be sick, I transport the fish to the sick room, and medicate it.
For cats, it is pretty simple. The cats we carry are from the Humane Shelter, but we take care of them while they are at our store. I make sure the cats have food and water, and I clean out the habitats and litter boxes.
For the reptiles, I ensure that all have been fed on the days needed, and I make sure clean water is provided. Some reptiles, such as Chinese Water Dragons and frogs, need to be misted twice daily, and I get that done.
For the birds, again, I feed and water them, but I also keep the birds stocked with available millet spray and timothy hay (only some birds). With the larger birds, I help socialize them by handling and talking to them.
For the small animals (i.e. Guinea Pigs, Hamster, Rats, etc.), I make sure they have food and water, a clean home, and are healthy.
In general, my job sounds like it would be fun. I get to play with animals all the time, but it's just boring. Cleaning takes the most time, and in a 25 hour week, I probably spend about 15 hours just cleaning. So that's what I do. My job in a nutshell.
Power of Personality
I'm not sure anyone would say that I'm a bad person, or was. I'm pretty sure, they'd say I was the kid in school that yelled and laughed and disturbed, but got his work done. I made all A's except for one which is another blog post all in itself. (It really is. Check it out.) I was a pretty good kid, but boy did I turn some heads when I got out to the playground. I could make you stand on top of the monkey bars without you every asking why. I had the gift of gab, but the good gab, the kindergarten gab. I would dare, and swear, and call you a chicken if you didn't man up.
I remember one time.....
Slides were all the craze back in the day. We had open, metal slides, giant, plastic slide, and we even had this one slide like a water park slide, with the tube-e-ness. It wrapped around the support beam of the jungle gym and moved you faster than a goat in a chicken pen. Well, one day, I decided to see what rocks looked like flying down the slide. It was okay. They just kind of plopped onto the ground after making way through the twists and turns of a kindergartner's dream ride. "There had to be something more to this rocky business", I thought to myself.
I slid down, turned around, (went to town, boot scoot boogey) and launched a rock up the slide. It shot upward, turned left, turned left more, and rocketed into the sky like the Challenger...except it didn't explode. (Too Soon?) I got kids the join me. From the fields and through the woods, children came from far and wide to see the rocks thrown through the tube, into the sky.
Someone made the mistake of getting on the other end....
She got hit.
I ducked and covered.
I got away.
Someone got punished....Poor guy.
I was a horrible influence.
I remember one time.....
Slides were all the craze back in the day. We had open, metal slides, giant, plastic slide, and we even had this one slide like a water park slide, with the tube-e-ness. It wrapped around the support beam of the jungle gym and moved you faster than a goat in a chicken pen. Well, one day, I decided to see what rocks looked like flying down the slide. It was okay. They just kind of plopped onto the ground after making way through the twists and turns of a kindergartner's dream ride. "There had to be something more to this rocky business", I thought to myself.
I slid down, turned around, (went to town, boot scoot boogey) and launched a rock up the slide. It shot upward, turned left, turned left more, and rocketed into the sky like the Challenger...except it didn't explode. (Too Soon?) I got kids the join me. From the fields and through the woods, children came from far and wide to see the rocks thrown through the tube, into the sky.
Someone made the mistake of getting on the other end....
She got hit.
I ducked and covered.
I got away.
Someone got punished....Poor guy.
I was a horrible influence.
Wow...how ironic.
My last post, which was about a week ago today, was about how much I love my Jeep, and how it'll last me through college. Well, last Thursday, I was in an accident with Ole' Creepers Jeepers.
I'll start from the time I left school.
A soon as I got out of my Chem. lab on Thursday afternoon, around 4:30, I trekked out to my car. It was parked in the big parking lot, in the third tier of cars (a LONG way out). As I walked towards the truck/car, I remembered that the seat belt wasn't working properly and that I needed to fix it before I went anywhere, and so I did. I got to the car, played with the seat belt until it clicked back into place, and I happened on my merry way.
On the interstate.
When I was leaving school last Thursday, I was heading to my girlfriend's house in Prattville, as is now tradition every Thursday. While on the interstate, past Perry Hill exit, but before Ann St Exit, I realized that I needed to stop by my house for something. First, I live right off of Ann St, but I have a self-diagnosed case of A.D.D. I can't keep a single track of mind long enough eat a bowl of cereal. I forgot to get over far enough, and I missed my exit. So, I said never mind. It wasn't worth fighting 5 o'clock Montgomery traffic to turn around and get whatever it was. I continued on to Prattville.
Off the interstate.
I got off on the Millbrook exit by Wal-mart and The DQ, and it started to pour. The roads got slick, my control was close to gone, and my windshield wipers sucked. Well, around the same time, I remembered that I needed to call work to make sure I had a certain day off. I didn't think about the rain. I was in a Jeep, everything would be alright. I headed down 14 towards Prattville, in the down pour, on the phone, with little visibility. When the speed limit changed, I watched the speed-o-meter as it moved down to around 40, and then I looked up. Brakes locked. Tires hydroplaned. I rear ended a huge Lincoln Aviator at a small, backed-up, neighborhood intersection.
The phone flew from my hand. Everything that was now is, meaning every possible item that was in the rear of the Jeep had now flown into the front floor boards. My seat belt caught and held my body from soaring through the windshield, and the little crack on the windshield turned into a very large crack.
My entire body on the Jeep's right side, shifted back, and messed my hood up. Over the weekend, I spent all my time trying to fix the Jeep, going to my brother's wedding, and trying to calm down. Never should anyone want to wreck. I feel bad for hurting the Jeep.
I'll start from the time I left school.
A soon as I got out of my Chem. lab on Thursday afternoon, around 4:30, I trekked out to my car. It was parked in the big parking lot, in the third tier of cars (a LONG way out). As I walked towards the truck/car, I remembered that the seat belt wasn't working properly and that I needed to fix it before I went anywhere, and so I did. I got to the car, played with the seat belt until it clicked back into place, and I happened on my merry way.
On the interstate.
When I was leaving school last Thursday, I was heading to my girlfriend's house in Prattville, as is now tradition every Thursday. While on the interstate, past Perry Hill exit, but before Ann St Exit, I realized that I needed to stop by my house for something. First, I live right off of Ann St, but I have a self-diagnosed case of A.D.D. I can't keep a single track of mind long enough eat a bowl of cereal. I forgot to get over far enough, and I missed my exit. So, I said never mind. It wasn't worth fighting 5 o'clock Montgomery traffic to turn around and get whatever it was. I continued on to Prattville.
Off the interstate.
I got off on the Millbrook exit by Wal-mart and The DQ, and it started to pour. The roads got slick, my control was close to gone, and my windshield wipers sucked. Well, around the same time, I remembered that I needed to call work to make sure I had a certain day off. I didn't think about the rain. I was in a Jeep, everything would be alright. I headed down 14 towards Prattville, in the down pour, on the phone, with little visibility. When the speed limit changed, I watched the speed-o-meter as it moved down to around 40, and then I looked up. Brakes locked. Tires hydroplaned. I rear ended a huge Lincoln Aviator at a small, backed-up, neighborhood intersection.
The phone flew from my hand. Everything that was now is, meaning every possible item that was in the rear of the Jeep had now flown into the front floor boards. My seat belt caught and held my body from soaring through the windshield, and the little crack on the windshield turned into a very large crack.
My entire body on the Jeep's right side, shifted back, and messed my hood up. Over the weekend, I spent all my time trying to fix the Jeep, going to my brother's wedding, and trying to calm down. Never should anyone want to wreck. I feel bad for hurting the Jeep.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Creepers Jeepers
Mister Jeepers, Baby Jeeps, Solo Commodore. Creepers Jeepers is a man/car of many names. Once said to be the sole virtue of America, the jeep stand a tall 5'11" and boast a stunning 230 Thousand miles. My jeep was inherited from my father, who was a man of simpler pleasures. He bought the jeep back in 98, because he wanted to play around with one. Over the years it has sported many problems such as busted rear end, a torn transmission, and several blown/cracked/missing headlights. Personally, I love my jeep and all its mini traits. It makes a rattling sound from between the roof and windshield when I drive too fast. The fan works, but the A/C doesn't. I have practically grown up with the jeep. Definitely all of my driving years have been spent with it. My dad says he hopes it lasts until I'm through with college. It'll probably end up looking like an old worn down Herbie by that time. I really want to keep in shape, but Jeep work is so expensive, and while the parts are easy to come by, time to replace is not. Just last summer I had to replace the radiator, alternator, starter, and water pump, because when they start showing signs of wear and tear, there was no time to swap them out. Now that I'm in college, time is even more scarce. I can even find time to nap anymore. It's a sick sad little world, in which people can't nap when needed. I digress. When the jeep finally bites the dust, instead of buying new, I believe I just want to fix the old. I can always reploace an engine for cheaper than a new car. I love that Creepers Jeepers.
Monday, October 12, 2009
What to ask?
I have to interview someone for a profile paper. It has to be an actual person, with actual experience and an actual personality. I know I want to ask a pharmacist, but who could I ask? My mom works in a pharmacy, so I could go to the hospital and see if I could talk to Bart. What would I ask Bart. I know my paper has to be about Bart, it has to tie into what sort of writing he does, and it has to profile him without taking a stance. So first I could ask "Why?" Why be a pharmacist? This is an open-ended question that would get the stories rolling. I could ask "What?" does a pharmacist do? or What do you do as a pharmacist? Then, I could tie in education with Where did you go to school? With education tied in, I could ask about the types of writing he did to get where he is. I could talk about his big paper. Dissertation, I believe. How should I go about becoming a pharmacist. What road should I take as apposed to those I shouldn't. What are some tips to become a better pharmacist faster, or tips for college and schools. I definitely want to be a pharmacist, and Bart is a very nice guy. I really hope he says he can help.
Re...invention
I have decided again that I really have to start buckling down on this blogging stuff. Starting today, I will write at least one blog a day, regardless of sick level, and I will write at least two on Monday and Wednesday. I am now 12 blogs behind, and the semester is dwindling down. If I begin die-hard blogging today, I will catch up in no time. Actually that means that I'll get in 4 extra a week and will finish catching up in 3 weeks. I think I want to get in a few extra over that a week to catch up faster. If I then continue "catching up" after I get back on track, I will be ahead of the game and finish sooner. With this blog, I now pronounce myself a daily blogger and shall do so every day on the day on time. Once upon a time, I stop blogging. That was last week. I didn't post any blogs last week, and now I'm feeling the sting of a good rest weekend. I got none, and I feel horrible. I believe I caught the cold, or the flu, or some other form of ickyness. I wonder if there is any time of music that would help me blog. Maybe, music in general would speed along the process. It probably wouldn't speed along the process, because the process takes a certain amount of time anyhow, but it might smooth the process and make it more enjoyable. So, for the third time in this single blog, I declare that I will from hence forth, til the end of the semester, I will blog daily,, and on Monday and Wednesday, I will blog bi-daily.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Calc.
OOOOOOOHHHHH man. I'm sooo relieved. I took a major calculus exam last Thursday, and I got the results back today. The exam was on all the theories of calculus. Hard as balls. I ended up not having a calculator and being very tired. Dr. Smith allowed me to use his. That man is awesome nice. The very tired part didn't help anything at all. When I first received the test, I froze. I forgot everything, but slowly, it all came back. I ended up making a 91 on the exam, partially because of some stupid mistakes, but I do believe that I did well. It brought my average for the course to a 92, which is the second highest grade in the class. Props to me. We also started on the rules of calculus today, which seems like it will be MUCH easier than the theories and stupid stuff. I understand that in order to understand calculus, you must know the background to the rules, the theories, but if just the rules work, then more power to them. So, life right now is turning up. Going better. Yay. Me.
Monday, September 28, 2009
On Halloween
Halloween is for sinners. Halloween is for kids. Halloween is for church goers. Halloween is for adults with kids. Halloween is for old people who don't have kids but want them and try to lure them in with candy. Halloween is for just about everyone. Everyone, it seems, except high end teenagers.
Last Halloween, Oct. 31 for those out of the loop, my first dress up Halloween in a long time. It had probably been about 5 years since the other. I had decided to do it up as Richard Simmons. Coming from a little school, everyone always dressed up on Halloween, so I wasn't alone. While there were no more Richard Simmonses, there were some pumpkins and sluts. But apparently, tiny piping shorts on a guy were just enough to get attention from everyone in the school. I was called out by everyone and their mother. So, Halloween last year at school was alright.
Halloween that night was not cool. Two of my friends and I went trick-or-treating. We mostly wanted treats, but nearly every house gave a rude comment about our age before dropping a Tootsie Roll into our pillow cases. No, "I'm glad you aren't drinking it up on a night like this," or a,"You kids make me proud." Nope, none of that. They mostly consisted of "Aren't you too old for trick-or-treating"s and "Where are the children?"s. We got mad so we went to the church to help with the festivities. Fun games and popcorn kept babies out of their mothers' hair for 15 seconds, and we would aid in the jubilation.
There was no jubilation. As soon as we got to church, we had to clean. Clean clean clean. And just a little more cleaning. After 3 hours of cleaning, we DID get the leftover candy from the games. about two banana boxes full. So teenagers may be able to eat all the candy they want, but they shouldn't dress up and try to have fun on a holiday, apparently it's just wrong.
Last Halloween, Oct. 31 for those out of the loop, my first dress up Halloween in a long time. It had probably been about 5 years since the other. I had decided to do it up as Richard Simmons. Coming from a little school, everyone always dressed up on Halloween, so I wasn't alone. While there were no more Richard Simmonses, there were some pumpkins and sluts. But apparently, tiny piping shorts on a guy were just enough to get attention from everyone in the school. I was called out by everyone and their mother. So, Halloween last year at school was alright.
Halloween that night was not cool. Two of my friends and I went trick-or-treating. We mostly wanted treats, but nearly every house gave a rude comment about our age before dropping a Tootsie Roll into our pillow cases. No, "I'm glad you aren't drinking it up on a night like this," or a,"You kids make me proud." Nope, none of that. They mostly consisted of "Aren't you too old for trick-or-treating"s and "Where are the children?"s. We got mad so we went to the church to help with the festivities. Fun games and popcorn kept babies out of their mothers' hair for 15 seconds, and we would aid in the jubilation.
There was no jubilation. As soon as we got to church, we had to clean. Clean clean clean. And just a little more cleaning. After 3 hours of cleaning, we DID get the leftover candy from the games. about two banana boxes full. So teenagers may be able to eat all the candy they want, but they shouldn't dress up and try to have fun on a holiday, apparently it's just wrong.
Have You Ever...
...been so tired, that when you wake up, it feels like eating is the worst thing in the world. Well, I have. I woke up this morning after about 8 hours of semi-decent sleep, and I felt like an anvil had been dropped on my stomach while I was long-napping. My stomach was empty for sure, but it also didn't want any company. It growled and snarled at me for about ten minutes before I got up and went to the kitchen. As I looked at each thing in the fridge, I realized that I could muster up the desire to eat. I guess the desire was there, but the strength wasn't, and with every food I gazed upon, my stomach punched itself. I felt horrible. Maybe I'm going insane. 0.0
Monday, September 21, 2009
Late Night Showdown
When I was a wee lad.....
I used to live in Jacksonville, FL. It was only until I was five, so I don't remember much, but I do remember the church. Maybe it was being their every other day, or maybe just that I was the church child, and everyone loved me. I distinctly remember the way the church was set up, but more over the difference in the way things played out at church. Instead of Sunday School followed by Sermon, which was then followed by football at home, my church threw a curve ball. Every Friday night, as soon as the sun set, the TV would get turned off, along with all video games and "bad" music. We would pretty much go to bed early, because it was so boring. The reason behind these happenings was church. Saturday was the Sabbath, and it started Friday night. We would wake up at the crack of dawn and go have breakfast at the church, then Sunday school, then sermon, then something else. Eating was the something else. Sunday school and the sermon lasted FOREVER. Til 1 or 2 sometimes. So, every Saturday after church, we would have fellowship either at the church, or at someone's house, stay there until the sun began to set, and then go home. Saturday night marked the end of the Sabbath, and that meant the electronics and "baaaaaad" stuff got turned back on. I'm so glad my world has changed.
I used to live in Jacksonville, FL. It was only until I was five, so I don't remember much, but I do remember the church. Maybe it was being their every other day, or maybe just that I was the church child, and everyone loved me. I distinctly remember the way the church was set up, but more over the difference in the way things played out at church. Instead of Sunday School followed by Sermon, which was then followed by football at home, my church threw a curve ball. Every Friday night, as soon as the sun set, the TV would get turned off, along with all video games and "bad" music. We would pretty much go to bed early, because it was so boring. The reason behind these happenings was church. Saturday was the Sabbath, and it started Friday night. We would wake up at the crack of dawn and go have breakfast at the church, then Sunday school, then sermon, then something else. Eating was the something else. Sunday school and the sermon lasted FOREVER. Til 1 or 2 sometimes. So, every Saturday after church, we would have fellowship either at the church, or at someone's house, stay there until the sun began to set, and then go home. Saturday night marked the end of the Sabbath, and that meant the electronics and "baaaaaad" stuff got turned back on. I'm so glad my world has changed.
Mr. Plumber vs. Mr. Blog
Joe is a pretty average name, and the article "Meet Joe Blog" uses that to show that blogging is no longer a fling or fad. Blogs have sprung up around the world from your mom's basement to Gandhi's "palace". Not only can blogs inform people of trivial issues, but they can also uncover true meaning behind life as we know it by being the unrelenting force of inside information the we have all come to love. Blogs are not bound by political ties or FCC regulations. They are their own entity with their own rule. Blogs can kick a government official out of office, and reveal the latest sci-fi movie at the same time. With 100,000 people typing articles, trading opinions, and shouting about nothing all at the same time, one message gets conveyed. Blogs are in.
Inconsistancy
Okay. Well, I told myself and all of you guyeseses that I would start doing two posts a day. Monday through Thursday. I also told myself that I would at least keep up with the posts. I haven't been doing so well with the posts, and I wish I was. I feel like I can't do it, but I know I can. I HATE have 4 core classes at one time. Having English Comp. 1010, Calculus, Economics, AND Chemistry sucks. Once upon a time, I heard that college was funnish. I heard it could be hard, but I'm just worn out. I really just want this semester to be over, but I still have to work to get "A"s so that I can keep my scholarship. I don't think I'll ever force myself such a hard schedule again. Maybe when I'm older and can handle it. My life as of the beginning of college is school, work, sleep, school, work, sleep, school, work, eat, sleep. It's horrible. I hope it gets better.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Something with a Guy and a Girl and an Apple and a Tree with me, Austin Brown, singin' this song about it and stuff like that.
So Mrs. Simms had swine flu. AHAHAHAHAHAHA
Not really..."Swine Flu is no laughing matter." She could have died. Thank goody goody goodness she didn't. Maybe one day the world will be riddled with disease and plague, oh wait. It is. Have you ever just stopped and thought about the number of diseases and illnesses that scientists have come up with? There is no way that our body can be messed up in that many DIFFERENT ways. I don't think they have ever heard the saying , "Simple is Best."
Okay, well, they probably have. They just don't want you to go with meds. Meds equal money. Money equals power. Power equals easy life style, sickness free, for Mr. Pharmacist. Mr. Me.
That's what I'm going for. I want to be a Pharmacist, but it's a VERY long road. 6-7 years at least. So, I don't need to get sick any time soon. Swine flu, stay away.
Not really..."Swine Flu is no laughing matter." She could have died. Thank goody goody goodness she didn't. Maybe one day the world will be riddled with disease and plague, oh wait. It is. Have you ever just stopped and thought about the number of diseases and illnesses that scientists have come up with? There is no way that our body can be messed up in that many DIFFERENT ways. I don't think they have ever heard the saying , "Simple is Best."
Okay, well, they probably have. They just don't want you to go with meds. Meds equal money. Money equals power. Power equals easy life style, sickness free, for Mr. Pharmacist. Mr. Me.
That's what I'm going for. I want to be a Pharmacist, but it's a VERY long road. 6-7 years at least. So, I don't need to get sick any time soon. Swine flu, stay away.
Drop Out and Do Lots of Drugs
Once upon a time, I had all the mind, to lay your burden down. Leave you where you stood. You believed I could. You've seen it done......before.
Not really. That's from a song.
But on the topic of advice, I have received all sorts of advice. I've gotten it from those who could give and guidance AND those who shouldn't. Just today I heard that I should drop out and do lots of drugs. Haha. If only. Nah, I don't do drugs, but I have thought about dropping out before. Not high school, but college. I'm only a freshman, but I've thought about it. Never really considered it.
But the best advice I've ever gotten was from man. Not a woman, a man. I can still see him laying on the couch, a kitten napping on his beer belly, and Fox News on the telly. He has the "Ring-Around-the-Rosy" balding going on, and has a Heineken in his hand. Two empty bottles sit on the coffee table, and many more lie in the floor board of the truck.
One day, he looked at me with a look of age old regret and guilt and said,"Son, if you ever stop going. If you ever stop learning. If you ever stop dreaming, then you will turn into me. I stopped at your age and settled down. Don't give up, and you'll never get old." He then turned back to the TV and started yelling at Democrats 1500 miles away.
I decided that day that I would never become my father. He raised me the way he wish he would have been raised, and I'm not going to be the man he doesn't want. I've always loved him, and I always will, but what he said that day changed my view of him forever. I'm not going to stop. I'm not ever getting old.
Not really. That's from a song.
But on the topic of advice, I have received all sorts of advice. I've gotten it from those who could give and guidance AND those who shouldn't. Just today I heard that I should drop out and do lots of drugs. Haha. If only. Nah, I don't do drugs, but I have thought about dropping out before. Not high school, but college. I'm only a freshman, but I've thought about it. Never really considered it.
But the best advice I've ever gotten was from man. Not a woman, a man. I can still see him laying on the couch, a kitten napping on his beer belly, and Fox News on the telly. He has the "Ring-Around-the-Rosy" balding going on, and has a Heineken in his hand. Two empty bottles sit on the coffee table, and many more lie in the floor board of the truck.
One day, he looked at me with a look of age old regret and guilt and said,"Son, if you ever stop going. If you ever stop learning. If you ever stop dreaming, then you will turn into me. I stopped at your age and settled down. Don't give up, and you'll never get old." He then turned back to the TV and started yelling at Democrats 1500 miles away.
I decided that day that I would never become my father. He raised me the way he wish he would have been raised, and I'm not going to be the man he doesn't want. I've always loved him, and I always will, but what he said that day changed my view of him forever. I'm not going to stop. I'm not ever getting old.
Monday, September 14, 2009
And so I've Decided
I've been thinking. I never blog. I tweet. I update. I change my status. I don't blog. About 3 times a week, and only in class. I guess I have the time on my breaks at work. I have come to a resolution.
From now on, I will be posting a blog at least twice a day until I have caught up.
My schedule allows me time in between all of my classes, and there is no reason for being behind. I do believe that I can keep up with a demanding 20 minutes a day. I will just say to myself. No. Don't play that video game. Post a blog about that video game. No. Don't listen to that music. Post about the band. I can do this. I know I can. I almost feel pathetic having to tell myself this, but it has to be done, and I have to type about this for at LEAST ten minutes.
Ten minutes because that's long enough to drill this in my head.
Ten minutes because that's what Mrs. Simms said.
Ten minutes because ten minutes is long enough.
If I end up having extra time, I will also go back and comment on other people's blogs, preferably other students. I'll just have to find them.
Good day fellow readers/bloggers.
From now on, I will be posting a blog at least twice a day until I have caught up.
My schedule allows me time in between all of my classes, and there is no reason for being behind. I do believe that I can keep up with a demanding 20 minutes a day. I will just say to myself. No. Don't play that video game. Post a blog about that video game. No. Don't listen to that music. Post about the band. I can do this. I know I can. I almost feel pathetic having to tell myself this, but it has to be done, and I have to type about this for at LEAST ten minutes.
Ten minutes because that's long enough to drill this in my head.
Ten minutes because that's what Mrs. Simms said.
Ten minutes because ten minutes is long enough.
If I end up having extra time, I will also go back and comment on other people's blogs, preferably other students. I'll just have to find them.
Good day fellow readers/bloggers.
HI!-OH!
I laid there, heart pounding, pulsing, beating in my ears. "Was I unconcious?" No. I slowly tried to raise to my feet, falling and stumbling. As I staggered around on the wood chip floor amongst the children of blurred faces, I regained thought. What had just happened? I couldn't tell yet. I knew something had fallen on my head. Surely it wasn't an anvil. Had my teeth been knocked out? I smeared my hand across my face, hoping not to see red when I pulled away. Luckily, blood hid from view. I braced against a swing set, pausing for a moment to actually breathe. One last time I would check for a wound before I started to look for the incident. I wiped my teeth to insure they all still remained, when I found blood. "Oh no!" I wiped them over and over, telling myself that it wasn't true. My teeth were okay, but a drop of blood dripped from my eyebrow, and hit the ground. My head. I felt myself forehead, and touched a liquid, undoubtedly blood. My hand moved closer to the top of my skull, and the liquid grew heavier and thicker. Something had hit me on the head.
I knew I had to find a person to help, because I wouldn't last long. The teacher was on the other side of the playground, too far away for me. My buddy Jason, also on the other side, was walking my way. I could make it to him first, but someone stopped me. A little guy named Tim was holding my arm, trying to stabilize me. I heard only mumbles as he was attempting to speak to me. Blood had now filled my ears. I jammed my finger in to try and free the ear from blood. Tim said,"I'm soooo sorry man. I just jumped off the bridge, and you were there."
And with that, I snatched away and stumbled to Jason. The rest is fuzzy. I remember sitting in the coaches office while she damped my head with a alcohol pad. I laid in the front office floor, waiting on my parents to take me to the emergency room. I woke up hours later with stitches in the top of my head.
The single most vivid injury in or on my head. Third grade. Winter. P.E.
I knew I had to find a person to help, because I wouldn't last long. The teacher was on the other side of the playground, too far away for me. My buddy Jason, also on the other side, was walking my way. I could make it to him first, but someone stopped me. A little guy named Tim was holding my arm, trying to stabilize me. I heard only mumbles as he was attempting to speak to me. Blood had now filled my ears. I jammed my finger in to try and free the ear from blood. Tim said,"I'm soooo sorry man. I just jumped off the bridge, and you were there."
And with that, I snatched away and stumbled to Jason. The rest is fuzzy. I remember sitting in the coaches office while she damped my head with a alcohol pad. I laid in the front office floor, waiting on my parents to take me to the emergency room. I woke up hours later with stitches in the top of my head.
The single most vivid injury in or on my head. Third grade. Winter. P.E.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
It came to me in a Dream
In elementary school.....
Way back when....
They say you go to the same but different schools, because of the point of view from each student. They say you fill in the blank spots with movie scenes and music that you know. I say NAY.
Yeah, you can have a different experience than someone at your school, but it's the same school. It may be because I went to a very tiny school with a class of 85, or it may be because I'm right. Haha. No way. I can remember very few incidences of terrifying experiences of my elementary years. My grades were always up. My attitude was in the right spot.
I do remember one though. Sixth grade.
It came as a woman. A short lady, although very tall compared to my stature at the time. She was probably about 5'5" with enough meat on her to barely feed a mouse. She was dark as night, and care about her hair more than anything. She was an intern, and her name was Ms. Woods. She taught my English class for about 2 months, one of them being February. She would always make us write little essays about what was happening in the world. Once a week, we would turn in a one page paper on the news, but one week she sprung a trap. We didn't have to turn in a one page paper. No. It was to be 3 pages, and on Black History Month.
I thought ,"Oh, this will be easy," and boy I could not have been more wrong. She assigned people from "African American" history, and of course all of her favorites got Martin Luther Kin Jr., or Harriet Tubman, or Rosa Parks. This vile, evil, shadow of a person gave me Malcolm X. At first, I thought nothing of it. I just thought that it was just another guy. Little did I know, that she had given me the most racist person in the history of racism.
As I read about this man, and how he was got to prove to the world that the white man was out to get him, I became pissed. Being in the sixth grade, pissed was BAAADDD. I asked her the next day if I could have a different person, and she said, "No."
So I didn't do it. I asked to write about someone less demeaning to my name, and was turned down. I got a zero on the paper, and THEN she told us it was for two grades. So, I got two zeroes.
I made an 88 in that class. The lowest grade I've ever made in a class in school. I cried.
Way back when....
They say you go to the same but different schools, because of the point of view from each student. They say you fill in the blank spots with movie scenes and music that you know. I say NAY.
Yeah, you can have a different experience than someone at your school, but it's the same school. It may be because I went to a very tiny school with a class of 85, or it may be because I'm right. Haha. No way. I can remember very few incidences of terrifying experiences of my elementary years. My grades were always up. My attitude was in the right spot.
I do remember one though. Sixth grade.
It came as a woman. A short lady, although very tall compared to my stature at the time. She was probably about 5'5" with enough meat on her to barely feed a mouse. She was dark as night, and care about her hair more than anything. She was an intern, and her name was Ms. Woods. She taught my English class for about 2 months, one of them being February. She would always make us write little essays about what was happening in the world. Once a week, we would turn in a one page paper on the news, but one week she sprung a trap. We didn't have to turn in a one page paper. No. It was to be 3 pages, and on Black History Month.
I thought ,"Oh, this will be easy," and boy I could not have been more wrong. She assigned people from "African American" history, and of course all of her favorites got Martin Luther Kin Jr., or Harriet Tubman, or Rosa Parks. This vile, evil, shadow of a person gave me Malcolm X. At first, I thought nothing of it. I just thought that it was just another guy. Little did I know, that she had given me the most racist person in the history of racism.
As I read about this man, and how he was got to prove to the world that the white man was out to get him, I became pissed. Being in the sixth grade, pissed was BAAADDD. I asked her the next day if I could have a different person, and she said, "No."
So I didn't do it. I asked to write about someone less demeaning to my name, and was turned down. I got a zero on the paper, and THEN she told us it was for two grades. So, I got two zeroes.
I made an 88 in that class. The lowest grade I've ever made in a class in school. I cried.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
To Do or Not To Do
Are there 50 things I'll never do?
Sure. I bet I can name 52. If I can, and it's relevant, I'll put a reason/description underneath certain ones. So let's get started.
I'll never....
Sure. I bet I can name 52. If I can, and it's relevant, I'll put a reason/description underneath certain ones. So let's get started.
I'll never....
- Shake the hand of Mae West.
- Eat a baby.
- Turn down Peach Cobbler.
- Read On War and Peace.
- Try and jump a scooter over a log again.
- Become a professional skateboarder.
- Give my blood sister a hug.
- Touch hot lava.
- Get in a car with a monkey.
- Play Jumanji.
- Become a computer.
- Get pregnant.
- Sift through the Arabian Sands with a fork, looking for greens to boil.
- Read ALL of Shakespeare's crap.
- Run across the ocean on canoe-like shoes.
- Ramble on like an idiot.
- Smack my B**** up.
And There Was This Guy And
www.TED.com
That's a great website to visit if you need a writing topic, or just a warm-hearted laugh on a Sunday afternoon, after getting back from a leisurely stroll on the veranda.
I took a stroll, and when I got back, I took a look in a book, a notebook. I got on TED.com and started browsing their wonderful selection of videos. When you click on a genre, about 20 or so different videos pop up with a description of each. I scrolled the mouse over each to read its description and one talked about local warming. I said to myself,"I wonder what local warming is about. I clicked it.
Local warming is all about the body. This dude said that if you are a male, and you blog, then you are radiating your manhood. If you sit in "blog" form, which is legs crossed like a woman, then your "stuff" will suffer. Granted this is all a joke made up by some funny guy, it works. Ever had the laptop on you, and you just get uncomfortable? It's because of Local Warming.
Leave it to some guy to warn us about stuff we already know.
I took a stroll, and when I got back, I took a look in a book, a notebook. I got on TED.com and started browsing their wonderful selection of videos. When you click on a genre, about 20 or so different videos pop up with a description of each. I scrolled the mouse over each to read its description and one talked about local warming. I said to myself,"I wonder what local warming is about. I clicked it.
Local warming is all about the body. This dude said that if you are a male, and you blog, then you are radiating your manhood. If you sit in "blog" form, which is legs crossed like a woman, then your "stuff" will suffer. Granted this is all a joke made up by some funny guy, it works. Ever had the laptop on you, and you just get uncomfortable? It's because of Local Warming.
Leave it to some guy to warn us about stuff we already know.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Touch of Chopped Grass
Ya know. I like them there vidja games, and sum of those little animals. But what i like most is that feeling of sliced and diced grass just after the blade has struck.
Imagine a child, about seven or eight years old. A not-so-white T-shirt is hung on a petite frame not even large enough to serve as a toothpick. Pieced-together blue jeans barely touch the legs while the belt struggles to keep the pants from collapsing. Slap a pair of war-torn fifties cowboy boots on, shave the head, and add a coat of mud and stains, and you have me, as a kid.
I loved to roll around in the yard. As each blade of grass would coax my hair into a tangled mess, i would close me eyes and just pretend cloud nine was real....and made of grass. Bermuda Blue. Nothing was better than those special mornings when I would wake up to the worn out starter trying to turn over the engine, all the while sputting out fumes of thick, black, oil smoke. My dad didn't like me being outside, because the mower was too loud to hear anyone else around, so I would sit, away from the window, and wait for the orchestra of blade and gears to subside.
When the suspense had built up to the point of breaking, and of course when my dad was done, I would run as fast as my little legs could carry me and perform the "I'm on Fire" maneuver. Stop, Drop, and Roll. I didn't care if my shirt was new, or if I was clean. Those baby grass blades touched my soul. Nothing mattered in the endless ocean of the grass in my front yard. If I had live in the city, people would have thought that I was a big dog, scratching my back.
I wish I wasn't so allergic.
Imagine a child, about seven or eight years old. A not-so-white T-shirt is hung on a petite frame not even large enough to serve as a toothpick. Pieced-together blue jeans barely touch the legs while the belt struggles to keep the pants from collapsing. Slap a pair of war-torn fifties cowboy boots on, shave the head, and add a coat of mud and stains, and you have me, as a kid.
I loved to roll around in the yard. As each blade of grass would coax my hair into a tangled mess, i would close me eyes and just pretend cloud nine was real....and made of grass. Bermuda Blue. Nothing was better than those special mornings when I would wake up to the worn out starter trying to turn over the engine, all the while sputting out fumes of thick, black, oil smoke. My dad didn't like me being outside, because the mower was too loud to hear anyone else around, so I would sit, away from the window, and wait for the orchestra of blade and gears to subside.
When the suspense had built up to the point of breaking, and of course when my dad was done, I would run as fast as my little legs could carry me and perform the "I'm on Fire" maneuver. Stop, Drop, and Roll. I didn't care if my shirt was new, or if I was clean. Those baby grass blades touched my soul. Nothing mattered in the endless ocean of the grass in my front yard. If I had live in the city, people would have thought that I was a big dog, scratching my back.
I wish I wasn't so allergic.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Who Knows?
Is the swine flu a killer? Is the government plotting to kill off the "poor and undeserving"? Was the swine flu a manufactured illness?
Two of those questions are probably on the right of maybe, but the middle one is a big "No". The idea that a microscopic porcupine-looking baby killer is killing adults too is harsh to think about. For years, people have gotten flu shots, which by design, ward off the flu by staging a "flu drill" if you will. Flu shots have always been a general vaccination, usually only protecting against 3 out of 15 different types of flu. This year, the flu shots were wrong. Well, not only were they wrong, all flu medications were wrong. H1N1, the swine flu, is a newly discovered flu. No one knows where it came from, or why it hit the world so hard.
I have a little idea about how the flu of oink came to be. The piggy flu is not just one flu, but a combination of flues that have been genetically altered to acted as one. Two human flues and two animal flues. Never before has anything like this been seen in your backyard, nature. The only logical thought about the origin of the swine flu bug is in a lab. I believe someone engineered the illness as a biological attack. It's been done with SARS. It's been done with Anthrax. Why not with a slowly spreading sickness. Kick them while they're down sort of thing. But who would do such a thing?
I dare say, we ARE fighting wars all over the world. The US is a busy little country. Any one of the meriad of enemaic countries could have made this. I sure hope not, but all the hoping for change we've done so far has dug a hole the size of Texas, so I won't venture down that road.
Two of those questions are probably on the right of maybe, but the middle one is a big "No". The idea that a microscopic porcupine-looking baby killer is killing adults too is harsh to think about. For years, people have gotten flu shots, which by design, ward off the flu by staging a "flu drill" if you will. Flu shots have always been a general vaccination, usually only protecting against 3 out of 15 different types of flu. This year, the flu shots were wrong. Well, not only were they wrong, all flu medications were wrong. H1N1, the swine flu, is a newly discovered flu. No one knows where it came from, or why it hit the world so hard.
I have a little idea about how the flu of oink came to be. The piggy flu is not just one flu, but a combination of flues that have been genetically altered to acted as one. Two human flues and two animal flues. Never before has anything like this been seen in your backyard, nature. The only logical thought about the origin of the swine flu bug is in a lab. I believe someone engineered the illness as a biological attack. It's been done with SARS. It's been done with Anthrax. Why not with a slowly spreading sickness. Kick them while they're down sort of thing. But who would do such a thing?
I dare say, we ARE fighting wars all over the world. The US is a busy little country. Any one of the meriad of enemaic countries could have made this. I sure hope not, but all the hoping for change we've done so far has dug a hole the size of Texas, so I won't venture down that road.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
When I was a young Warthooooooooogggggggg
If I were in charge of my high school, what would I do?
What a question.
First off, I would fire that lousy good-for-nothing nurse who NEVER let me out of class, and always made me do mundane chores for her during fourth block. Not really. I loved my school nurse, psychologist, and console-er. I would make her the school nurse for just the seniors of the high school.
I would hire a guidance counselor with some background. I'm in college and everything, but I'm still blind as to how this whole rig-a-moroll works. My senior guidance counselor was a guidance counselor for as long as I was a senior. She had no experience and trying her hardest couldn't do well, because no one taught her how to counsel high school "leaving" kids. I would put her back into teaching, where she was good.
I would also get rid of my ninth grade creative writing "teacher". Some "teacher" she was. She sat on her rear end, stared at a computer screen all day, and gave us prompts. That was the extent of her teaching. Oh! And the favoritism she played was outrageous. Kids from other classes would come in, and talk to her, rather loudly I might add, and make her get on to us. I wish that woman no luck in life.
On a happier note, well not really happier, more like, neutral note, I would make sure the technology lab had the best technology, not the kindergarten tech room. Not the teacher's lounge. And certainly not the special ed. room. I spent all four years of high school fixing computers. I was the tech guy. All the teachers knew it. In tenth grade when the school purchased new computers, we got none. By we, I mean the tech room kids. We were stuck on Windows '98 until one of the teachers messed up his/her computer and we "claimed" it. We would dish out an old comp. and take the newer model in for "work". They never got them back. Professional computer thieves we were. I remember once, actually faking a crash, so that we could get a new computer. It was AWESOME.
Overall, I liked my high school and not much would change.
What a question.
First off, I would fire that lousy good-for-nothing nurse who NEVER let me out of class, and always made me do mundane chores for her during fourth block. Not really. I loved my school nurse, psychologist, and console-er. I would make her the school nurse for just the seniors of the high school.
I would hire a guidance counselor with some background. I'm in college and everything, but I'm still blind as to how this whole rig-a-moroll works. My senior guidance counselor was a guidance counselor for as long as I was a senior. She had no experience and trying her hardest couldn't do well, because no one taught her how to counsel high school "leaving" kids. I would put her back into teaching, where she was good.
I would also get rid of my ninth grade creative writing "teacher". Some "teacher" she was. She sat on her rear end, stared at a computer screen all day, and gave us prompts. That was the extent of her teaching. Oh! And the favoritism she played was outrageous. Kids from other classes would come in, and talk to her, rather loudly I might add, and make her get on to us. I wish that woman no luck in life.
On a happier note, well not really happier, more like, neutral note, I would make sure the technology lab had the best technology, not the kindergarten tech room. Not the teacher's lounge. And certainly not the special ed. room. I spent all four years of high school fixing computers. I was the tech guy. All the teachers knew it. In tenth grade when the school purchased new computers, we got none. By we, I mean the tech room kids. We were stuck on Windows '98 until one of the teachers messed up his/her computer and we "claimed" it. We would dish out an old comp. and take the newer model in for "work". They never got them back. Professional computer thieves we were. I remember once, actually faking a crash, so that we could get a new computer. It was AWESOME.
Overall, I liked my high school and not much would change.
I remember when I lost my mind!
I remember, when I was a kid, I loved going to the doctor. I would walk in, "sign" myself in (Mom would actually do all the paper work), and read all the awesome books that were available. When it came time for me to go into the back, I remember always telling momma to stay in the waiting room, because I was a big kid and could do this all alone. She never listened. When we got to the room in the back, I would always sit on the medical bed/table and talk to momma about what was wrong, that way, when the doctor came in, I had my story straighter than a woman hitting the cat with a frying pan. Every time he/she came in to ask me what was wrong, I would start out by saying,"Nothing," but of course that didn't work.
Being the kid of bigness, I had to actually tell the doctor I was sick. I didn't want to, because I could never swallow pills, especially when they got lodged in my throat. So, I would sucker a sucker of the sucker, meaning I would politely ask the kind gentleman-like doctor if I could ever-so-gracefully receive a lollipop from amongst the holy grail of lollipops, in the basket, on the counter, in the waiting room. And just like clock-work, I always got one. Of course, I didn't want one every time. I was growing up, and I didn't always have time for lollipops. My show was waiting on me at home, away from school. Sometimes I tried to help the doctor diagnose me.
One morning, I had a very upset stomach. After moving around in the bed like an earthworm and making "sicky" noises, I got the news that I didn't have to go to school. I was ecstatic, but to the doctor I must. It was alright, but a movie I wanted to see came on soon, so the trip had to be fast. When we got to the doctor's office, it was PACKED. Very little sitting room and coughs abound made the atmosphere about as desirable as that of a pool hall on smokers night. "Man this is going to be a long day," I remember thinking. After a while, I got into the back, but just like everyone who doesn't want to be at the doctor, I had to wait and wait and wait in the back room.
Then the doctor finally came in. I had my story, and I tried to help diagnose. The doctor told me that I was wrong and I had a case of "No-school-itus". I was sent home with a doctor's note for the rest of the day, but I had missed it. My credits were rolling when I turned the boob-tube on. I gave up my day to be at the office I "love". It was a sad day.
Being the kid of bigness, I had to actually tell the doctor I was sick. I didn't want to, because I could never swallow pills, especially when they got lodged in my throat. So, I would sucker a sucker of the sucker, meaning I would politely ask the kind gentleman-like doctor if I could ever-so-gracefully receive a lollipop from amongst the holy grail of lollipops, in the basket, on the counter, in the waiting room. And just like clock-work, I always got one. Of course, I didn't want one every time. I was growing up, and I didn't always have time for lollipops. My show was waiting on me at home, away from school. Sometimes I tried to help the doctor diagnose me.
One morning, I had a very upset stomach. After moving around in the bed like an earthworm and making "sicky" noises, I got the news that I didn't have to go to school. I was ecstatic, but to the doctor I must. It was alright, but a movie I wanted to see came on soon, so the trip had to be fast. When we got to the doctor's office, it was PACKED. Very little sitting room and coughs abound made the atmosphere about as desirable as that of a pool hall on smokers night. "Man this is going to be a long day," I remember thinking. After a while, I got into the back, but just like everyone who doesn't want to be at the doctor, I had to wait and wait and wait in the back room.
Then the doctor finally came in. I had my story, and I tried to help diagnose. The doctor told me that I was wrong and I had a case of "No-school-itus". I was sent home with a doctor's note for the rest of the day, but I had missed it. My credits were rolling when I turned the boob-tube on. I gave up my day to be at the office I "love". It was a sad day.
When you fall asleep in the morning
Usually when someone hears about someone else writing a journal, they normally think of it as a hobby or a passion. Most of the time it gets written in at the same time everyday. Not this "journal".
I strongly believe that a person's writing style changes over the course of a day. Just like the seasons, a person's outlook on the rest of the day is ever-changing. I have been trying to post blogs aat different times and during different moods, because I may not feel like typing at 6:30 in the morning, but it makes for an interesting entry.
Take last night for example. I was sitting on the back porch talking to my girlfriend's mom about movies, and I brought up the blog I was working on. She asked which movies I wrote about, but it was late, and I had no energy, ambition, or manner to tell her about the post. I just shrugged it off and said a couple of movies, whether they were the ones or not. I was not in a mood to think. Thinking comes in waves for me, and even the waves of the ocean cannot control when the mental nirvana of typing comes.
This morning, I was eating my all natural, wholesome, delicious breakfast that was composed of a bowl of Wheaties, half a grapefruit, a piece of "I can't believe it's not" buttered toast, and a glass of Orange Juice, when it came to me.
"Write in your blog," my mind said to me. So, whether it was a lapse of reason, or just the fact that I hadn't entered in the blog in two days, I'm not sure. What I am sure of is the ideology that if you change the schedule you trick the mind, and if you trick the mind you train the body and work out the brain.
I strongly believe that a person's writing style changes over the course of a day. Just like the seasons, a person's outlook on the rest of the day is ever-changing. I have been trying to post blogs aat different times and during different moods, because I may not feel like typing at 6:30 in the morning, but it makes for an interesting entry.
Take last night for example. I was sitting on the back porch talking to my girlfriend's mom about movies, and I brought up the blog I was working on. She asked which movies I wrote about, but it was late, and I had no energy, ambition, or manner to tell her about the post. I just shrugged it off and said a couple of movies, whether they were the ones or not. I was not in a mood to think. Thinking comes in waves for me, and even the waves of the ocean cannot control when the mental nirvana of typing comes.
This morning, I was eating my all natural, wholesome, delicious breakfast that was composed of a bowl of Wheaties, half a grapefruit, a piece of "I can't believe it's not" buttered toast, and a glass of Orange Juice, when it came to me.
"Write in your blog," my mind said to me. So, whether it was a lapse of reason, or just the fact that I hadn't entered in the blog in two days, I'm not sure. What I am sure of is the ideology that if you change the schedule you trick the mind, and if you trick the mind you train the body and work out the brain.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Early Mornin' Pick-me-up
It is 6:23 on this beautiful, crisp, Monday morning. Class starts at 8:00, and I have to create one more post on my blog before school begins. This morning I want to address the subject of being sick.
All weekend I was sick. I ended up having to miss three days of work and having to stay away from home as to not spread the illness. I had the flu. I did not have swine flu, but instead a very weak case of Type B Flu. The entire weekend was tiring to the utmost degree. On Friday, I had to go into Montgomery from Prattville to pick up a few things from my house, and in less than 2 hours, I was worn out.
Why do people get sick? Is there some way to cure being sick at all? I am currently taking a few different types of medicine for my "disease", but I want to know if we can kill it. Is there a way to stop people from ever getting sick again?
The answer is probably no, because just like humans, viruses and diseases adapt to an ever-changing environment in order to stay alive and reproduce, seeing that reproducing is the only reason that humans try to stay alive. I think that in the years to come, there will always be ever-expanding resources of sicknesses to keep humans on their toes during the game of survival.
Is a society without illness really a society at all?
All weekend I was sick. I ended up having to miss three days of work and having to stay away from home as to not spread the illness. I had the flu. I did not have swine flu, but instead a very weak case of Type B Flu. The entire weekend was tiring to the utmost degree. On Friday, I had to go into Montgomery from Prattville to pick up a few things from my house, and in less than 2 hours, I was worn out.
Why do people get sick? Is there some way to cure being sick at all? I am currently taking a few different types of medicine for my "disease", but I want to know if we can kill it. Is there a way to stop people from ever getting sick again?
The answer is probably no, because just like humans, viruses and diseases adapt to an ever-changing environment in order to stay alive and reproduce, seeing that reproducing is the only reason that humans try to stay alive. I think that in the years to come, there will always be ever-expanding resources of sicknesses to keep humans on their toes during the game of survival.
Is a society without illness really a society at all?
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Midday Morning
Hello fellow blog followers. This will be my third official blog, the first unofficial being composed of only "Austin" words. This time I believe I will talk about the subject of video games.
Video games are seen in the common world as a mere hobby or a waste of time. Some parents and teachers view video games as an unnecessary evil that takes time away from studying or doing chores. Video games kill direly needed brain cells with flashy visuals and ferocious noises.
I say nay. I believe video games to be an opportunity to encounter otherwise impossible frontiers. The nether worlds of creativity and imagination are opened in the realms of video games. Take the game Oblivion for example. It is a First person role-playing game set in an imaginary world justly named Tamriel. If it were not for the violence presented in the game, I would not have an outlet to release my anger. I would take such anger out on the smaller people of the world. Not really. I like to think of video game worlds as alternate personalities. While I fully understand the dimensions of the real world and those of video games, I enjoy the idea that what I do in video games has no repercussions in the actual reality. I see a chance that will never to be brought to me. I believe video games to help the world through their therapeutic, mental healing, properties.
Video games are seen in the common world as a mere hobby or a waste of time. Some parents and teachers view video games as an unnecessary evil that takes time away from studying or doing chores. Video games kill direly needed brain cells with flashy visuals and ferocious noises.
I say nay. I believe video games to be an opportunity to encounter otherwise impossible frontiers. The nether worlds of creativity and imagination are opened in the realms of video games. Take the game Oblivion for example. It is a First person role-playing game set in an imaginary world justly named Tamriel. If it were not for the violence presented in the game, I would not have an outlet to release my anger. I would take such anger out on the smaller people of the world. Not really. I like to think of video game worlds as alternate personalities. While I fully understand the dimensions of the real world and those of video games, I enjoy the idea that what I do in video games has no repercussions in the actual reality. I see a chance that will never to be brought to me. I believe video games to help the world through their therapeutic, mental healing, properties.
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