The Awe Some-ness of Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Every creature was stirring, even the mouse.

Don't worry, I'm not going to launch into a rewrite of the famous, Night Before Christmas. Although, that seems to be a popular thing for writers to put their own spins on during the holiday season. I have to admit, I did think of giving into temptation and rewriting it as well, but that's not really what I felt like I should write about. Instead of rewriting the ever popular poem, I'm just going to tell you about my Christmas.

Christmas has always been a big thing for my family. Every year my dad makes sure to inform the household that the tree doesn't go up until the day after Thanksgiving...and every year he gets ignored. Actually  in truth, he was listened to until my siblings and I discovered that we have the ability to pull out the Christmas decorations ourselves. By that point, my dad didn't want to pull out the boxes and began saying, "I guess we can put it up today -Thanksgiving -but you kids have to get all the boxes out." It is always done. Seriously, it never fails. The tree is always up by Thanksgiving night.

The decorating of the tree marks the beginning of the Christmas season. After that everything Christmas attacks the house. Christmas music, Christmas cookies, snow, hot chocolate, Christmas movies, prayers for snow days...etc...etc...the list goes on and on. Yet, it is not the onslaught of theses things, nor the tree, nor the gifts, that makes Christmas important for me. There is something that occurs every year possible that is the reason I look forward to Christmas...and that's the annual gathering of my family on Christmas Eve.

On Christmas Eve, if possible, my family -on my mom's side -meets up at my Grandma's home. This is a tradition that has been going on since before I was born. When I was a little brat, the gathering was rather small. It was my parents, my two aunts, my two uncles, my grandparents, my two cousins, and then my sister and myself. Now though, our family has grown. It has gone from twelve attendants eighteen.

This year everyone was able tot attend the gathering, I must say it was one of the best ones yet. Christmas is one of the tender times in my life and I'm sure it's safe to say it's the same for my oldest cousin. She and I are roughly four months apart and this holiday will always be near to our hearts. Our grandpa made Christmas.

There are no words that I could use that could accurately describe how wonderful of a man our grandpa was. He is the reason that Megan -my cousin -and I consider Christmas to be one of the most precious holidays.

There are many things I could go into detail about when it comes to why this Christmas was so great, but allow me to tell them to you in a list. Here are some of the reasons I love Christmas Eve and my family:

1. A Walk Down Memory Lane:
This year we did something new. We took out a bunch of old home videos of past Christmases and watched them. It was both entertaining and tearful, as my grandpa is no longer with us and I couldn't help but remember all the good times I had with him when I was little.

2. My Uncles:
My uncles are characters. When they are around there is never a dull moment.

3. My Cousins:
I have a lot more cousins now then I did back when I was there ages -think 11 and under here -and each and everyone of them have such unique personalities. This contributes to the next thing...

4. Blending of Personalities:
It was interesting to watch my family this year. Why? Because we are all different ,there's no doubt about that, and it was fun to watch all of our personalities interact.

Sigh...my words seem to be failing me at the moment. I wanted to tell you how wonderful my Christmas Eve and Christmas was, but I seem to be unable to find the desired words. The only word I can think of to describe it is awesome.

And when I use 'awesome', I really mean Awe Some. It was two days full of awing moments. From looking around at my younger cousins and thinking, "That use to be us,"...to watching home videos of our parents when they were our age and thinking, "That could be us,"...to looking around at my uncles, aunts, and parents and thinking, "That will be us,"...to the beautiful morning that was my Christmas day where my immediate family gathered around the tree...to the current moments of us all doing our own things but still enjoying the other's company. There has been no rush theses past two days. No worry has entered my mind. All I've cared about, all my family has seemed to care about, is spending time with each other. And that, my friends, has been Awe Some.

There is truly no greater gift on earth than time well spent with family. I love each and every one of them and, if any of them are reading this, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for being part of my family. I love you all and will cherish all of the memories I have of all of you.

Merry Christmas, everyone. If you haven't found time for some holiday Cheer yet, there's still a few hours left in the day (At least there is where I reside) and I encourage you to do so. Don't let this Christmas pass by.

Everything but Studying

Picture this, the soft glow of white Christmas lights cling to the brick of a dorm room wall while Christmas music plays on both computers in the room. A Christmas movie, about a little girl asking Santa for someone to compliment her mommy, plays softly in the background. Neither girl that dwells in the room are paying much attention to the movie. Their eyes and ears only take in enough of it to know the plot. They are otherwise preoccupied.

English and Criminal Justice assignments scatter the desks of theses two girls. Documents are open on their laptops, the insertion cursors blinking in an impatient manner...urging them to get at least a few words down. Yet, with espresso in the coffee pot and pop in the fridge, the caffeine in the girl's systems are much too high for them to just sit and work on dull assignments. They knew those cups of caffeine were a bad idea, but they had seemed like such a good one at the time. They knew taking those naps would only make them stay up latter, but they were so low on sleep that they craved a couple hours of dream land.

With a blue and silver themed tree winking at them, the girls giggle over nothing and everything. the glittery snowflakes hanging from the tree capture their attention every once in awhile, reminding them of the fact that they have oh-shiny-disorder and should probably unplug the tree while attempting to study. Yet, the lights, the snowflakes, the bulbs and bells are all too pretty to miss out on. 

Distractions, distractions, they're everywhere and the girls are more than willing to take part in them.

"I have that Olympic paper to write."

"I have that portfolio to work on."

"Let me braid your hair."

"Okay."

It's funny how girly these two girls turn when assignments need to be done. With due dates fast approaching  they become increasingly aware of the state of disarray their hair is in, of the chips in their nail polish, of the disorganized mess of hair products and makeup on their dressers...the urge to ignore their homework and do their hair is strong. So strong they dare not resist.

Of course, there is only so much time one can spend on makeup and hair. Soon they are seated back in front of their assignments. Yet, a few moments later they decided that the dorm room is too dirty to work in. Time to make the beds, to make sure all laundry is in the washer/dryer, to organize the closets, to wash the fridges...but, the room wasn't dirty enough to keep them away for long and they are once again returning to their assignments.

"How's your paper coming?"

"I have a sentence. You?"

"A paragraph."

"I'm tired."

"Me too."

"I'll make more coffee."

And so more caffeine is placed in their systems and they have yet to accomplish any of their assignments. They now have a spotless dorm room, perfect hair and makeup, uncluttered desks, and a coffee pot that's working overtime, but there is still a pile of assignments to be done. Coffee is made and they attempt, yet again, to be productive.

"Now how far are you?"

"I need 200 more words."

"I've reached half a page...I think we deserve a break."

"Facebook."

"Fanfiction."

"DeviantArt."

"Youtube."

"Blogging."

"Amazon."

Minutes pass and turn into an hour. One raises a question about the time of a final. The other checks her planner. They become aware of just how close their deadlines are and...

"We need to get back to work."

"I've got to at least knock out this part tonight. Otherwise I won't have enough time to get it completed."

"Uh oh. I lost my book."

"Did you check under the bed?"

"I found it...It was behind my pillow."

"How'd it get there?"

"I dunno."

"Okay, okay, back to work."

With minds set on finally accomplishing something in the form of assignments  the girls take their places for a night of homework.

Prologue

This week has been an interesting one for me. It had its ups, it had its downs, and it had those days where I didn't want to do anything but write. Yet, even though life did prevent me from writing as much as I wished I could, I still did write. It's one of the writings I wrote this week that I am giving you in this post. Isn't very long, but it is something I liked once I finished it...which has become somewhat of a rarity lately.

The following is a prologue that I wrote this week for a story a friend and I are working on together. We haven't put any of the chapters for it up on our DeviantArt accounts yet (Mine -> http://writingangel2010.deviantart.com/ His -> http://gabrielraven.deviantart.com/ ), but we will sometime in the future. We really need to nail down a title and see how our plot's going before we post any of them. However, what I'm giving you is a peek at what we're working on. 

So, here's my first contribution to our untitled story. I hope you enjoy it :) 

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It was late fall of 2012 when it all happened. I was a college junior at the time, on my way to receiving some sort of English degree. One break had just ended and I was already counting down the days until the next one. Piles upon piles of papers were due, one presentation after another had to be done, and I was growing tired of answering the question, "What are the major themes of this story and why are they important?" Yes, it was late fall, with chilled air nipping at my nose and seeping through my converse shoes, and it was on a day I was questioning why I ever chose to major in English that it all happened. 

One doesn't ever expect such things to occur to them. It's not even a thought most people entertain. So, imagine my shock when it happened to me. Something that only happened in ghost tales taking place in my own life. 

I'm sorry. By this point you must be somewhat confused. You are, no doubt, wondering what I am talking about. "Just what happened to you," you must be saying. The impossible, the improbable, the unthinkable, that's what happened. 

It was a day in the late fall, when I wanted to get out of the cold and into the comforting heat of the library, that it happened. It was when I wished to gather the resources I needed and then head back to my dorm for a hot shower. It was when I came face to face with a real, live ghost. Well, not a live ghost, for ghosts aren't actually alive. That's sort of what makes them a ghost, but it was a ghost all the same. Little did I know that a creature of fairy tale could have such a real impact on my life.

An Almost Not Done Blog Update

It's almost 9:30 on Sunday night and I'm still not completely sure what will all be in this blog. To be honest, I debated on not blogging this week, but then I decided against it. I figured I could come up with something for those of you reading this.

I guess, for this post, I will merely give you a list of the highlights of my week. I was on Thanksgiving break from the 20th to the 25th, and it has been the best break I have had since starting college. Why is this, you may ask. Simply because my family wasn't rushing about. The only thing on our agendas was to spend time together. It was great. Without blabbing on more, here's some of the events that took place of my break:

1. I got to see my grandma again, who I haven't seen in person since the end of July.

2. I helped my family decorate for Christmas.

3. I was granted some much needed sibling time and was able to talk to each of them individually. This was a main highlight.

4. I baked a lot with my mom.

5. I had interesting conversations with each of my family members.

6. I listened to a small child tell me the Christmas story as we put up a nativity scene at our church.

That last one is something I wish to expand upon in a later blog post. If I remember, I shall write up a story based upon it and share it with you. For now, I'm tired from being in a car all day and wish to enter dream land. Therefore, this is all you get tonight. I shall write again soon though :)

Have a blessed night!

The Ramblings of a Procrastinating College Student

My thoughts are a mess right now, scattered all over the place, so I apologize if this post makes little to no sense. Today has been one of those days...no, scratch that, one of those weeks where I've gotten lost in the cares of the world. My patience is running thin, my ear-buds are experiencing a slow death from the loud screams of rock angels that I've been blasting through them, and my sketch book is quickly acquiring new drawings of Meep (a character I tend to draw when reaching emotional highs or lows). On top of those, my supply of note cards and snacks is depleting quickly.

In all honesty, I've been making a list of things to blog about this week...and I just threw it away. Not literally  for it is impossible to literally through away a list that never made it from the mental state to the one of being written on paper. Whatever, though. I can't seem to bring myself to care at the moment.

So, what is the purpose of this post? I guess there really is no purpose, except that it gets me a grade for one of my classes. It's just the ramblings of a college junior who's tired of working on a particular evil research paper and using this blog as an excuse to take a break. Yes, the paper's evil. Any argument you have will be considered invalid for, as I have stated, I am not in a mood to care... about logic or anything. I am...how shall I put this? Tired? Exhausted? Ready for the break that's just around the corner? I suppose all three of those work.

Since I mentally tore up my metal list of blog topics, ran it through a shredder, set it on fire, gathered up it's ashes, and then held a funeral for it at sea, allow me to sum up the contents of said list in another list about my week. How's that sound? Why am I even asking you that? It's not like if you said, "That sounds awful," I'd decided not to write the list. If you like it or not, I'm still writing it...aren't I so nice? :)

So, without further ado, here's the events of my week that I was originally going to blog about...and am technically still blogging about by writing them in this post.

1. I made a spork into Batman...it was epic. He is now chilling beneath the Eiffel tower note-card holder on my desk, soaking up rays from the harsh florescent light of my dorm room.

2. I've felt like Mrs. Who from A Wrinkle in Time this week. If you don't know who she is, she's a character that speaks in quotes made by other people. Why have I felt this way? Because I've been quoting so much stuff lately (In an American Literature class, papers, and conversations) that I feel like I'm her...unable of communicating except through quotes.

3. I've decided that television is my least favorite invention...though I knew this before, I've recently been forced to remember exactly why I dubbed it the invention I most dislike.

4. I've been tempted to hide a building-mate's clothing because their owner was kind enough to pull my bedding out of the dryer only a few minutes into it's drying cycle, and then to put her own clothing in the dryer and keep them drying all night long...making it where I had to sleep on wet bedding. Yeah, thank you for that. Whoever you were. I just loved sleeping under wet blankets all night :D You're really a doll.

5. My roommate and I decided we should be nocturnal because we are unable to sleep at night and tired all day. We also discussed how vampire like we are...concerning sleeping patterns and the drinking of red liquid (Code Red Mountain Dew and juice).

6. I got in a fight with my Ipod and am not sure who won. It kept turning on all night, no matter how many times I shut it off, so it ended up drained of battery and I ended up not being able to listen to it for a day.

7.  I failed a final for a class that I was on the boarder line of failing or passing...but I got a hundred on both of the papers I turned in for it...which ended up helping me pass the class. Seriously, I can't even begin to explain how excited I was when I saw that I had passed that class.

8......well, 8 is simple, I'm writing this list. Haha, but really, I'm currently still writing this blog post just so I don't have to go back to writing my research paper. Procrastinating is useless though, it only gets me less sleep. I suppose I should get back to that paper...but I don't want to...but I should...but I really don't want to...but I need to...but I don't wanna...okay, okay, it has to be done.

Seriously, thanks for taking time for reading this weird blog post...which was obviously written in a stream-of-consciousness way and used way too many, "...."'s.  Have a great night/day and try to be productive.  

My Thoughts On...Being an Introvert

The internet is a marvelous thing, is it not? It enables us to find all sorts of information. Have a question? Google it. Have a witty comment? Post it on a social page. There are so many websites out there for us to partake in. It was while browsing through one of the sites that I'm often on -Pintrest -that I came across this picture: 

"How to Care for Introverts." I'll admit, it was the title that caught my eye. After reading the picture, I -who am an introvert -had to admit that many of the 'rules' on it were valid. Honestly, I wish more people would follow them. If they did, I probably would talk to more people.  Let's break this list down, shall we? I'll write the rule and then give you my personal opinion on it. How's that sound? 

Rule #1: Respect their need for privacy.

This one is a must with me. I hate it when people look over my shoulder when I'm working on something or texting someone, when people go through my text messages (Don't touch my phone), when people mess with my laptop without my permission (Don't you dare touch my laptop), and when they go through my note books (You touch my journal you better run...fast). I get that people want to get to know me, but all you have to do is ask. If you ask, and I tell you that I'd rather not talk about the subject you ask about, then don't push the mater. We introverts like our privacy.  

Rule #2: Never embarrass them in pubic. 

I have only one thing to say about this one. Do it and I'll never speak to you again. Seriously, you embarrass me in public, especially if it's on purpose, and I will avoid you like the plague. After time, I may start speaking to you again but  never expect me to fully trust you. I'll keep my distance from you.

Rule #3: Let them observe first in new situations.

I don't know if this is the same for all introverts, but, for me, it's easier to learn by observing. Observing is my tool to figuring out people, places, situations, and new tasks.  

Rule #4:  Give them time to think. Don't demand instant answers. 

This is one that I really wish more people would do, especially a couple of my professors. When you ask me something, or say something to me, it's not uncommon for me to not respond right away. I'm not hesitating because I'm lying, I'm not trying to come up with a good excuse, I'm merely processing your words and attempting to find the ones I need to say exactly what I'm thinking. If you rush me, as one of my professors tends to do, you get crappy answers that are full of stuttering and unsurness...even though I know what I want to say, I have to have time to figure out how to say it. 

Rule#5: Don't interrupt them. 

This was a big problem for me freshman year of college and still gets on my nerves now. If you're trying to have a conversation with me then don't interrupt my part of the conversation because, if you do, my attention will soon shift from you to whatever the nearest shiny object is. It makes me feel like you really don't care what I have to say and, therefore, I will not say anything at all...hence why I tend to give a lot of short, generic answers (such as yeah, cool, okay, sweet...etc...) to my friends.  

Rule #6: Give them advance notice of expected changes in their lives.

If life worked that way, it'd be great. As an introvert, I do this thing where I have to talk myself into changes. I get anxious about changes and, if I'm not given a decent amount of time to prepare myself for them, I could react badly. I could go into what I call 'shut-down mode'. Which is basically when I block out the world, aim to be invisible, and go through the day as silent as a shadow. 

Rule #7: Give them 15min warnings to finish whatever they are doing.

This one pretty much relates to the last one. 

Rule #8:  Reprimand them privately. 

If I've done something to insult you, or screwed up on something, don't make a scene about it. You do and we're back to the outcome of rule #2. Things like this affect introvert's insecurities and one of the introvert's worst fears is having the world see them when they're insecure. So no public reprimands.

Rule #9: Teach them new skills privately. 

When taught new things in public, introverts get nervous...which can often lead to them screwing up on the new skill and them feeling like a failure because their peers saw them mess up. 

Rule #10:  Enable them to fine one best friend who has similar interests and abilities. 

Let's be honest. Us introverts don't have many close friends. We may have groups of friends we hang out with, and many people we can comfortably talk with, but normally we only have one or two people who we consider close enough friends to share our true opinions with. 

Hm, okay, I don't really like how I worded that. This one's sort of hard to explain. 

Rule #11: Don't push them to make lots of friends.

We're introverts, not extroverts. We're loners, not social-butterflies. Don't push us to be something we're not. 

Rule #12: Respect their introversion. Don't try to remake them into extroverts. 

Chances are, if you accept our quietness, our wishes to observe rather to participate, our need to think through things, and don't publicly humiliate us, we can be great friends with you. Yet, going back to rule #11, don't make us something we aren't. 

Another thing about us introverts, we tend to be rather good listeners. We are wallflowers. As Stephen Chbolysky said in his book, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, we see things and we understand them. It's part of our observational skills. Just because we aren't talking, just because we aren't telling secrets, just because we aren't participating in gossip, doesn't mean we don't know what's going on. What it does mean is that we are aware of the situations around us and we understand the impact each one has on the lives of those involved in them. 

I suppose that is it for this blog post. I hope all who read this have a good day/night.

Sounds of a College Cafeteria

The following is something I wrote while at work tonight. I finished everything on my check list and had some time to kill, so I decided to do a writing challenge. This is challenge was something brought up in my Creative Writing class at the beginning of the year. What you do, is grab a pen and paper and write down what's going on around you...specifically sounds and conversations. So, this is what the end of my work shift usually sounds like. 

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               “My class…what happened was…”

      

                A cart rolls by, drowning out all other sounds. Its roar amplified by the tiled floor and high ceiling.

          

               “Hahaha!”

       

                “Now you understand where I’m from.”

                “Hahaha!”

                “There’s no need for me…”

                Again the cart appears, again it slices through the voices; creating fragments out of whole sentences.

                “I have to get ready for the match!”

                “Are you going to the game?”

                “I’m announcing the game.”

                Ca-sh, ca-sh, ca-sh, ca-sh, cubes of frozen water crash against each other. Their voices like that of breaking glass, but softer, and less metallic. Their voices are deeper, more masculine then the shrieks of shattered porcelain.

                “But, the question is, will they let him play?” The person speaking on the mounted television doesn’t stand a chance against the hum of the large, shiny rotisserie oven. Freshly polished and stocked with the naked carcasses of chickens, the machine purrs louder than a cat in heat.

                The ice cream machine kicks on, its equally shiny surface shakes as it let out a growl louder than the rotisserie’s purrs. The chicken cooker may have drowned out the news, but it was a whisper compared to the ice cream machine.

                “Do you know where the…”

                Another cart rolls by, turning voices into muffled whispers.

                “Uh…we might be out.”

                Squeak, squeak, sneakers make their presence known. Their owner’s hand swinging a manila envelope back and forth. She stops, her blond curls sashaying, and glances at the cashier in curiosity.

                “Is the mail office closed?”

                “Yeah. It closed about four.”

                “Oh. Well. I guess I’ll go back to my room real quick.”

                “Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah, wah,” a worker, dressed in black, sings as the blond turns to leave. The paper towels in his hands are silent as they caress the glass beneath them. Their bodies soak up the blue liquid that had been sprayed on the glass prior to their presence.  

                “I don’t know where…”

                “Hey! Have you seen…”

                “Go for it! Are you asking me permission to make an omelet? Go for it! You could have that station tonight, if you want.”   

                “Do you have any spinach?”

                “I don’t know. Let me…”

                “Hey girl!”

                “Hey, we’re looking for the restrooms,” a couple stops by the wooden stand of the cash register, their hair salt and peppered by age.

                “They’re right through those doors,” the cashier points.

                “Can we use them?”

                “Yeah, go ahead.”

                Be-beep, a scanner signals the swiping of a card. Its voice blending in with the hissing of the grill.

                “Thank you.”

                “Yep, just remember that it’s sandwiches and salads right now. The rest opens at five.”

                Scrape.  Scratch.  Hiss.

                “Are you serious? You just destroyed the flat dog.”

                “What are…”

                Hiss. Scrape.

                “Pork fritters.”

                Hum.  Clink. Clink. Clank. Scrape. Growl.

                “Actually, I hope that…”

                “Super long.”

                A click is heard as the ice cream machine shuts itself off.

                Be-beep, be-beep, be-beep, be-beep, be-beep. Volleyball players file in, swiping their ID cards at the register.   

                Be-beep, be-beep, be-beep, hiss, be-beep, ching, clang, hum, be-beep, click, be-beep, be-beep…another dinner shift’s begun.  

Snippets of Thoughts

Sadly, I haven't written much lately. Nothing lengthy, anyway. This last week for me has been somewhat busy and just a tad stressful. Being a writer, my outlet for my emotions (my escape from reality) is writing. I don't need to write some long or short story in order to remain balanced in life, sometimes the smallest writings can accomplish just that. This is what happened over this last week. I didn't succeed in writing much on the stories I'm working on, but I did manage to jot down a few 'stanzas' as they came into my head. I figured, for this week's blog post, I'd share these 'stanzas' with you.

Each 'stanza' stands alone, though a few were meant to be part of a longer poem, and are inspired by different things that happened throughout my week. Some seem dark, others fairly light, but all were thoughts inspired by classes, work, or friends...and the conversations/events that happened with each.

Stanza 1: Day In, Day Out (Inspired by the seemingly unending cycle of sleep, school, work, that I've gotten into) 

Day in,
Day out,
The same old story,
The same old path,
She wants to scream,
She wants to shout,
Day in,
Day out.

Stanza 2: Fading Life (Inspired by a line from Henry Longfellow's poem A Psalm Of life)

Weather changes,
Colors fade,
The world keeps spinning,
We end up in graves.

Stanza 3: Heavenly Matter (Inspired by a stanza from Henry Longfellow's poem A Psalm of Life)

One day we shall return to dust,
For our bodies are made of that stuff,
But our souls are made of heavenly matter,
And they shall live on forever.

Stanza 4: Missed by a Stranger (Inspired by when a friend of mine told me that her mom missed me...and I have never even met her mom, only heard of her)

To be missed by a stranger,
It adds value to your life.
It makes you wonder,
What you did to be so recognized.

Stanza 5: Cafeteria (Inspired by the hurried atmosphere at my work this weekend, and originally written for a Creative Writing assignment)  

People rush from one station to the next,
Plates are stacked high and steps careful on slippery floors,
They're dressed to impress in black hats and coats,
A commotion is heard in the back of the cafeteria,
Bang! Crash! Splat! Dishes and food fly everywhere.

Stanza 6: Red (Inspired by the autumn weather and my desire to write a senses poem)

Red...
Tastes like freshly picked cherries,
Feels like smooth silk,
Smells like a dozen roses,
Looks like the perfect shade of lipstick,
Sounds like the crunching of autumn leaves.

Stanza 7: What is This Place? (Inspired by...I'm not really sure...it just sort of popped in my head when I sat down to write)

What is this place?
Where am I?
Cold stone walls and carpeted floor.
Whispered voices and wooden furniture galore.

Stanza 8, 9, & 10: Lost Sanity (Inspired by how I felt yesterday, when I finally had time to slow down for a bit) 

I've lost my mind,
I'm not sure where it's gone,
I don't know where it's at,
I'm sure it was here yesterday,
Or was it a day before that?

Is it possible I've misplaced it?
Is it possible I drove it away?
Has someone come and stolen it?
Has someone whisked it away?

Has it hidden among my books?
Has it slipped beneath the papers on my desk?
Has it found its way into my printer?
Has it taken a dive into the trash can?
Or did I leave it in Campus Center?

(Campus Center is where the cafeteria is located on the university campus I live on...it's also where I work) 


   

An Accidental Framing

Some people work hard to frame others. They put so much time and effort into it, but then there are those who don't need to try at all. Those who put no thought, no effort, and no intent into the frame. Those are the people that accidentally frame another person. Those are the people that I'm a part of.

On Wednesday, October 17th, my roommate and I were innocently walking down our hall. We were on our way pass one of our neighbors' doors when the little white square hanging on their door caught my attention. I had noticed the picture that was drawn on the bored a few days prior to this event. Yet, the little hand drawn fish and seaweed were not what tempted me into action. On no, it was the words that someone had written in black erasable marker above the fish.

"This is Bob," the words declared and a thin-lined arrow connected the words to the fish.

Being who I am, the mischievous person I tend to be and sometimes fail to keep in check, I plucked the magnetic black marker from the door and wrote below the little friendly fishy these words.

"Hi Bob."

Hi Bob. That's all I wrote. Nothing brilliant. Nothing original. Nothing special. Just, "Hi Bob." As I walked away from that door, my mischievous side sated for the time, I thought no further into those words' future. I didn't stop to think what writing those words would do. I didn't stop to think that the person who had passed by my roommate and I in the hall would tell someone that I had been the one to write those words there. Not that I would have cared even if I thought they would.

Hi Bob. Really, what kind of harm could those two words do? Apparently, more than I thought...and that more ended up causing some amusement to rise in me.

It wasn't until Friday or Saturday, I forget which, that those words came back to place a laugh on my lips and a smile on my face. To be honest, by that point I had completely forgotten that I had written that  small message. Hadn't even bothered to look at the bored I had written it on. Yet then, out of the blue, I was walking back to my dorm room when I noticed a group of girls at the end of the hall.

I didn't pay much attention to the girls, I merely kept walking. Now, before I go any further, let me explain something to you. My name's Ashley...there are at least four other Ashley's that live on my university's campus...there's two Ashley's that live on my hall. Understand that? Okay, then let's move on.

As I was saying, I wasn't paying much attention to the group of girls. I was just about to open the door to my room when I heard one of the girls say, "Ashley, Bob thanks you for the message."

Out of habit, I turned towards the girls. That's when my accidental framing came to light.

"What message? And who's Bob?" another Ashley asked, her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"You know, Bob. The fish on my white board." the first girl attempted to clarify. "So-so (I forgot who she said exactly told her) said that she saw you write 'Hi Bob' on my board."

"It wasn't me," the other Ashley spoke in a confused manner.

At this point, I was in my room, the door opened just enough to let in some of the hall light, and attempting to stifle my laughter.  Without even meaning to, I had managed to frame another Ashley for the simple message that I had written...and I had found it amusing.

When I informed my roommate of this event, she cracked up laughing. She's a Criminal Justice Major with an odd sense of humor and -thankfully -enough out of her mind that she can deal with me and my antics. I believe she gained even more amusement from the situation than I did and has been calling me a criminal since my telling her of the event.

Life is full of crazy little things like theses. Those small events can sometimes cause the greatest outcomes. When I was little, someone told me that a butterfly fluttering it's wings in China could cause a hurricane here in the U.S. It wasn't until I was much older that I realized what they were really saying. It's those little things that can make or brake you in life. They have the power to affect an entire day...or even a week.

That little moment, the laugh I got from the accidental framing, had made my day. It had added some joy into a day where my thoughts were otherwise preoccupied by book reports, reading assignments, and the mysterious language of Fine Arts. It gave me a smile that I had needed and it gave my roommate a laugh tonight, when she needed it. Funny how those little things do that sometimes, isn't it?

One thing's for sure, I thank our Creator for all those little moments, for those glimpses of sunshine. For those moments of laughter. Without them, the world would be a darker place.  

50 Things To Do With M&M's

It's safe to say that we all know what M&M's are. They are those shell-covered chocolates that have been a favorite candy for years. Yet, did you know that you could get creative with M&M's? Being a snack isn't the only thing they're good for.

Last night my roommate and I had a candy fight, which involved those fun size packets of M&M's (and one Snickers, but that's another story)...and then later that night we took a break from studying to play a game of tic-tac-toe, in which the X's and O's were blue and Yellow. This got me thinking. I began to wonder just how many ways I could come up with to entertain myself with M&M's. So, today I grabbed my trusty composition book and set out to compile a list of ways to use M&M's. Now, at the end of the day, I have a list of 50 different ways to use M&M's...and I'm going to share it with you.

50 WAYS TO USE M&M'S

1. Have a candy war with them.

2. Play tic-tac-toe with them.

3. Bribe children with them.

4. Snack on them.

5. Divide the colors among a group of people, place a cup on the opposite side of the room as them, and then have them toss the M&M's into the cup...the winner's the one who gets the most M&M's in the cup (If that wasn't obvious).

6. Teach kids to count with them.

7. Use them to teach kids colors.

8.Glue them to a paper and make a picture out of them.

9. Melt them over popcorn.

10. Use them to bet with in card games.

11. Use them as a miniature hockey puck and shoot them across a table with your fingers.

12. Line them up in a trail down a hallway/stairs/sidewalk....etc...

13. Sort them by color.

14. Pick a color before opening a package and only eat that color.

15. Decorate cakes/cupcakes with them.

16. Bake them into a cake.  

17. Bake them into cookies.

18. Use them to help kids understand diversity/equality. For example: The M&M's are different colors but are all still M&M's...such as humans are different races but we're all still humans.

19. See how many you can fit into your mouth.

20. Wet them and use the color dye for writing/drawing.

21. Use them as Secret Santa gifts.

22. Sell them.

23. Have messages put on them.

24. Use them for a proposal.

25. Make trail mix with them.

26. Mix them into Puppy-chow.

27. Poison a dog with them...but not really, because that's animal cruelty.

28. Play marbles with them (works better with the peanut ones).

29. Scrape the "M" off an convince people they're Skittles.

30. Repeatedly toss them at your dorm wall and see how long it takes your neighbors to ask you to stop.    

31. Pass them out for Halloween.

32.  Buy a box/bag of them and make a movie night themed gift for a friend.

33. 'Accidentally' spill bowls of them on a tiled floor...and then leave so someone else has to pick them up (To make this more effective, hide all the brooms and shop vacs first).

34. Instead of using styrofoam (<---spelling issue) to pack a box, use fun sized packets of M&M's.

35. Use them to spell out a message on someone's desk/floor.

36. Completely cover a floor with them.

37. Use them as ice cream toppings.

38. See how many you can throw into the air and catch with your mouth.

39. Teach a kid to swallow pills by swallowing M&M's whole.

40. Fill someone's dresser drawers with them.

41. Stand in a crowded place, with a packet of M&M's, and suddenly trow them into the air while exclaiming, "They're talking to me! They do exist!"

42. Dress up as an M&M, hand out M&M's, and then proceed to fake fainting when people eat the M&M's.

43. Hold them in your hand and see if you can get them to melt.

44. Attempt to balance them on your nose.

45. Give them to people who've had bad days.

46. Tape words of encouragement on packages of them and leave them in random places.

47. Sit behind someone and toss M&M's down their shirt/jacket.

48. Put them in a jar and shake it like an instrument.

49. Name them.

50. See how many you can stack on top of each other (I only got 2).



Well, there you have it readers. My list of things to do with M&M's.

Part of a Story

You may recall me mentioning in an earlier post that I am currently writing a book...well a series of books really. I've decided to post something from the book up here. This is just a rough draft of a scene I plan on having in the third book of the series. Any feedback is welcomed. 

                Inky tresses swirled about their owner’s head, as if they were alive, as she made a violent twist. Her body spun counter-clockwise, her right hand sweeping a jagged edged scythe. Reflections of the fire and broken buildings around her were reflected on the weapon’s silver surface.  Flames danced not only in the streets, but in her cerulean eyes.

               

  A dark red liquid was creeping down the scythe’s blade, distorting the reflections of death playing across it. As more of the liquid was gathered, it made its way slowly down the reflective surface. The liquid became like crooked fingers as it wrapped itself around the wrist of the young woman holding the scythe.    

                “Axel!” her head whipped around, searching for the person screaming her name. The glowing flames and dark smoke made it hard to see and gunshots drowned out sounds. She could barely hear the person calling for her. The voice wasn’t clear enough for her to tell its gender, let alone who it belonged to.

                The war around her was raging on. A large chunk of metal fell to her right, just missing her by mere inches. It’s weight disturbed the concrete below, causing spider web like cracks to form and throwing small pebbles into the air. A few of the concrete pebbles made contact with the flesh of Axel’s face. She threw up a hand to shield herself but her actions had been too slow. A few small pieces of the debris flying through the air hit her in the eye. She fell, her knees hitting the ground below her hard as she struggled to rid her eye of the foreign objects. Her body’s natural cleansing ability in her eyes kicked in. Water formed in the corners of her eyes as she blinked repeatedly.

                “Dang it!” she cursed. She had dropped her scythe when she fell and was now rubbing at her eyes furiously to clear them.  

                “Axel!” There was her name again, but where was it coming from?

                “What?!” She growled into the smoky air.

                A pair of black boots scrapped the broken concrete. Their movement came to quick stop in front of her.  Axel’s eyes, still having trouble seeing because of the rock in them, traveled from the scuffed up boots to their owner’s black covered legs, to the white shirt and black vest covering their owner’s torso, and finally came to rest on the sharp angled face of Lucifer.  His left hand was held out for her, his right holding a complicated looking sniper rifle. The nearing flames gave his silver-blue eyes a danger glow and cast his long shadow over her.

                “Come on!” the man with the liberty-spikes demanded. His hand snatching hers and pulling her up from the ground.

                Axel barley had enough time to grab her scythe before being dragged around a corner and maneuvered through a crowded ally way. Chunks of debris were everywhere. Pieces of building and cars blocked their path. Forcing them to shimmy between walls and wreckage.

                “Where are we going!” She yelled over the sounds of gun fire.

                “Back to base.”

                “We’re retreating?”

                “Regrouping,” he corrected.

                “Why?”

                “It’s all part of the plan.”

                “You know, I don’t think everything you say is part of the plan is part of the plan.”

                Lucifer came to a sudden stop. His body shifted to face the raven-haired girl. His eyes were as cold as steel. “Everything I do is part of the plan. Every order I give is part of the plan. The deaths our team experiences are not. Those are the consequences of war, and it’s because of the consequences that plans change. Hence why we’re regrouping. So, no. This was not part of the original plan, but not much is at this moment. You just have to trust me. You’ve let me lead you this far, you need to let me lead you the rest of the way.”

Perfection

The following is something I wrote a while ago. I've edited it a bit, but it's basically the same. It was my attempt at a vignette/stream of consciousness story...except it ended up being a retailing of some of my favorite memories. Honestly, I couldn't tell you if the jungle gym mentioned in this story is still standing today. I doubt it is, but maybe the next time I'm around Polo Missouri I'll swing by and see.

This story, Perfection as I've titled it, is dedicated to my cousins (Drew, Elena, James, and Leilani), as well as my uncle and sister (Dillion and Katie), who helped create all the adventures that took place on the pile of rusted metal we called paradise.



Title: Perfection

                 It was old. Made of yellow metal and rusted so bad in some places that, looking back, it was a wonder our parents let us play on it.

                It was rickety. In no way was it sturdy. Its bars would nearly bend in half as we hung from them; they would let out the oldest groan. A squeak that meant nothing to us at the time, but is now a sound on my memory’s soundtrack. 

                We were so young then that it was like climbing on an old man. A bunch of kids climbing on their grandfather as he gave them piggyback rides.

                We never saw it as an old grandfather though. We never saw it as old, period. When we were out there, climbing on it as if it could support an elephant, the rust and age never crossed our minds. To us the imperfections were invisible. To us, there was no place closer to heaven than at the very top of the tower.

                The tower…oh, it had gone by other names. What it was called was different for each of us. The tower… the fort…the spaceship…our parents called it the jungle gym.

                Its name mattered none. Whatever it was…the tower…the fort…the spaceship..it was our place of refuge. No matter what adventures we were on, it was the safe spot. We’d climb its bars…hop to the other side…land on a piece of wood…declare victory.

                Only when I was an Indian was it not a safe place. The others were cowboys…I was never allowed to win. I’d be thrown in the jail and then die by the end of the adventure. It didn’t bother me though.

                How could one be bothered when five seconds after their death they were alive again? We died...we lived…we lived…we died…our adventures continued on.

                Every summer we would gather for these games; sometimes during the fall as well. Then, one day, we found ourselves facing the greatest adventure of all.

                Rust appeared and we heard the old man squeak, We hardly touched it anymore. We had moved on…maybe, secretly, we were afraid to break it.

                Occasionally we’d take a seat on that piece of wood on top of the tower…the fort…the spaceship...but never for an adventure.

                We’re adults now. Each and every one of us. Each of us have parted ways. Words have been spoken to each other on occasion, but we hardly ever revisit our adventures. That chapter’s closed. Those pages yellowed.

                Yellowed, just like the tower…the fort…the spaceship…the jungle gym. Our parents would still say that’s what it was…a jungle gym. We would readily agree. Yet, there’s still something magical about it.

                I’m sure, by now, that old man is long gone, but looking back I still see perfection. Rust and rotting metal…squeaky chains and rotting wood…dangerous….risky…perfect.

                I cannot speak for the others, but for me that tower…that fort…that spaceship…that jungle gym…will always have that magic that makes it perfect. There is no amount of rust, yellowed metal, or old wood that wouldn’t make me take one look at it and think, “Perfection.” 

Power of Prayer

If there is one thing I'm sure of, out of everything I've learned in my life, it's that prayer is the most powerful weapon of them all.There is nothing more more powerful than prayer, except the One who answers the prayers. He has more power than anything in or out of this world.

Lately I've been doing a lot of praying. Not only for myself but for those around me. It appears that satan (No, I shan't give him the honor of a capitalized 's') is on the prowl. He's after many people at this time. I won't tell you specifics about what's going on with my friends, for those prayer requests (and there are a decent amount of them) are unspoken, but my personal prayer request is for guidance. Guidance in decisions dealing with my academic life.

If you, who ever reads this, could lift up a prayer that'd be great. I'm not even concerned with my own prayer request at this moment. Alright? What I really want you to do is to lift up the hurting in your prayers. Could you that? Please?

On the topic of the power of prayer, I've had a song stuck in my head tonight that talks about prayer. It's called Get On Your Knees And Fight Like A Man, by the band Petra. It's a song I've grown up listening to, having the freakishly cool parents that I do, and one that's always seemed to come to my mind when prayer is especially needed.

I'm going to put in this post a link to a YouTube video of the song, as well as type out the lyrics for you. Listening to the song is great, but sometimes we don't grasp the full meaning of a song's lyrics until we see them before us...which is why I'm giving you both the video and the lyrics.

Video:

Lyrics: (Note, these lyrics belong to Petra, and Petra only. I'm just typing them out for you.

Out on your own with your own self reliance
You've got no one to watch your back
You find yourself caught with no strong alliance
You've been left open for attack

Over your head the condition is graver
You've given ground you can't retrieve
The cards are stacked and they're not in your favor
But you've got an ace up your sleeve

Get on your knees and fight like a man
You'll pull down strongholds if you just believe you can
Your enemy will tuck his tail and flee
Get on your knees and fight like a man

Under the gun, you've got no place to hide out
Backed in the corner on your own
This is one storm you are destined to ride out
One way to leave the danger zone

Get on your knees and fight like a man
You'll pull down strongholds if you just believe you can
Your enemy will tuck his tail and flee
Get on your knees and fight like a man

You've got the backbone to fight this tide
You've got the will to survive
You've got the weapon, it's at your side
You've got to learn to confide

Get on your knees
Fight like a man

Get on your knees and fight like a man
You'll pull down strongholds if you just believe you can
Your enemy will tuck his tail and flee
Get on your knees and fight like a man


Well, that's all for today readers. I'll be praying for all of you and please do so for the people of this world.

Positive from a Negative

I have been working on a book series (which I hope to publish one day) for about three years now. I have completely finished writing the first book and had started on the second. All was going well up until about six months ago, when I suddenly lost my plot and became angry with one of my characters. The second book was not turning out as well as I had wanted it to and my main character wasn't the strong heroine that I had desired for her to be. Because of this, I decided I needed to take a break from the story.

It has been approximately six months since I have worked on the series...and I suddenly have inspiration to write on it again. I had a dream about my main character that has me wanting to write about her and the chaotic world she lives in. However, I opened my documents two days ago and just about cried when I found that every thing I had written for the second book of the series had mysteriously disappeared...outside of the first four pages.

Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled about the loss of over sixty pages of a story that I had thrown almost all of my spare time into for nearly two and half years. Yet, after some thought I realized that I wasn't actually mad that I lost those sixty pages. I was only mad that I lost three of the scenes in them. Three scenes...that's approximately fifteen to twenty pages...I was mad because I lost 15-20 pages out of 60+.     

After realizing that, I ended up having a conversation with my sister. My sister, just so you know, is the first person I run all of my story ideas by. She's the first person to read them, as well as the first person to make comments. This is because she'll flat out tell me if a story sucks or not. I know I can trust her to give me honest feedback...and give me honest feedback is what she did when I called her to complain about my missing pages. Her words to me? "This could be a good thing, you know. Remember how we said that you needed to change the time in the story because not everything that was happening could take place in a week? Remember how you said you wanted to make _________'s DID more obvious? Didn't you want to change ________'s hair too? And _______? I thought you didn't like how she was turning out. Now you can make all those changes." 

My sister was right. There were more things I had wanted to change about the book than keep. So, I've decided to turn this negative into a positive. I've changed my thinking from, "Crap! I just lost sixty pages worth of story," to, "Hey! Now I can write the story how it's supposed to be written." 

I'm actually glad that I lost those pages now. I haven't started rewriting the book yet, but I'm planning to soon. I think I'm going to read the first one before I do though, that way I can get back into the mindset of my characters who have been dormant for six months. 

The moral of this story? Don't let bad things get you down, because some times bad things happen for good reasons :)