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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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....

1. Shake the hand of Mae West.
2. Eat a baby.
3. Turn down Peach Cobbler.
4. Read On War and Peace.
5. Try and jump a scooter over a log again.
6. Become a professional skateboarder.
7. Give my blood sister a hug.
8. Touch hot lava.
9. Get in a car with a monkey.
10. Play Jumanji.
11. Become a computer.
12. Get pregnant.
13. Sift through the Arabian Sands with a fork, looking for greens to boil.
14. Read ALL of Shakespeare's crap.
15. Run across the ocean on canoe-like shoes.
16. Ramble on like an idiot.
17. Smack my B**** up.

Okay, so I can't do 52. I'll come back later and add on to this.

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.