1. Clean your room/house.
2. Make origami butterflies.
3. Turn a spork into Batman.
4. Give yourself a make over.
5. Create a list of ways to procrastinate.
6. Read blogs.
7. Check social sites.
8. Read the back of a shampoo bottle.
9. Write a story.
10. Write a poem.
11. Write a weird note and leave it for someone to find.
12. Blow up a friend's phone with text messages.
13. Do laundry.
14. Contemplate the meaning of life.
15. Watch cartoons.
16. Jam out to music.
17. Go driving.
18. Go for a walk.
19. Have a game night.
20. Go shopping.
21. Play video games.
22. Play Facebook games.
23. See how many words you can think of that start with 'M'.
24. Watch videos on YouTube.
25. Use a ball of yarn to turn your room into a human sized spider web.
26. Play catch.
27. Play Frisbee.
28. Have a Nerf war.
29. Have a lightsaber battle.
30. Draw.
31. Play tic-tac-toe.
32. Play hangman.
33. Play pick up sticks with pens.
34. Trace your hand and turn it into something.
35. Draw mustaches on people in magazines.
36. Watch a movie.
37. Stare at your pile of work and think about how you should be working on it.
38. Count ceiling tiles.
39. Play an instrument.
40. Count the bricks of a wall.
41. Journal.
42. Go to a coffee shop and stare at people.
43. Have a race.
44. Go on a scavenger hunt.
45. Cut out stick figures and leave them in random places.
46. Read Fanfiction.
47. Create a list of 'laundry room etiquette' .
48. Dance down the hall/street singing at the top of your lungs.
49. Read a book.
50. Take apart and clean a vacuum.
51. Alphabetize your movie collection.
52. Organize your books.
53. Make your bed until there are no creases.
54. Organize your music collection.
55. Go see a play.
56. Play Jenga with pens.
57. Lay in the grass and stare at the clouds.
58. Close your eyes and listen to the silence.
59. See ow many markers you can connect together.
60. Put a packet of cherry kool-aid behind the shower faucet.
61. Write a bunch of encouraging notes and leave them in random places for people to find.
62. Place fake bugs,rodents,reptiles in random places.
63. Organize your crayons and color pencils by shade.
64. Create a character.
65. Make a story about that character.
66. Make a comic about the character.
67. Play volley ball.
68. Play soccer.
69. Play basketball.
70. Play baseball.
71. Play softball.
72. Play tennis.
73. Blow bubbles.
74. Play with silly putty.
75. Solve a Rubix Cube.
76. Blow up a balloon and see how long you can keep it in the air by hitting it.
77. Scatter furniture, sofa cushions, pillows...etc...and make it across the room without touching the floor (The floor's lava, after all).
78. Sit out cups and see how many ping pong balls you can shoot in them (to make this more challenging, give specific tasks to do, like bounce the ball of the fridge and into the cup.)
79. Draw on the side walk with chalk.
80. Go for a run.
81. Go bird watching.
82. Sit somewhere. Just sit there. Don't do anything. Just. Sit. There.
83. Take a nap.
84. Take a shower.
85. Draw on yourself.
86. Draw on a friend.
87. Give all your friends code names.
88. Get crafty.
89. Use tape to outline someone's body on the floor.
90. Hide in a bush and talk to people as they walk by.
91. Wander around somewhere and when someone talks to you say, "You can see me?"
92. Run into a store and ask someone what year it is...when they tell you, yell, "It worked!" and run away.
93. Make a bucket list.
94. Re-write a popular song.
95. Go to the park.
96. Fly a kite.
97. Organize your game collection.
98. Break out an old board game.
99. Dance off anyone?
100. Sort your closet and dresser drawers by color.
101. Read this list on how to procrastinate.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Have a Smile
Here's a video a classmate of mine showed in our Linguistics class a few weeks ago. It never ceases to bring a smile to my English-Nerd face. If you like English or Shakespeare you will love this video...if you don't, watch it anyway. It may just bring a smile to your face.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Lewis and Clark's Contribution to the English Language
The following is a research paper I wrote for my Linguistics class. The assignment was to choose a partner, create a prompt, and then each partner write their own response paper over the prompt. This is my response to the prompt my friend and I came up with. I won't tell you the grade I got on this paper, but I will say that I was proud of myself when I finished writing it and even more proud when I got it back. I've have included citation in the paper and the list of resources is at the end. Fell free to check out the sites/books I got my information from. In fact, I encourage you to.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Prompt: "The
Lewis and Clark expedition played a huge role in the development of the English
Language; yet it is not given such credit in today's society. In what
influential ways did this expedition create a pathway for the development of
the English Language? Should this expedition be given more credit than what has
briefly been bestowed upon this piece of history?" (Worded by my friend).
Lewis and Clark’s Contribution to
the English Language
It is a chilly January day and snow
covers the ground like a glistening blanket. Children sit inside warm
classrooms, their backpacks jammed into lockers, and their minds trained on the
snow. They want to be anywhere but sitting at their desks. They want to bundle
themselves up in hats, coats, and gloves. They want to rush out the doors and
build snowmen. Yet, they are prevented from doing so. Their teacher stands at
the front of the class with a piece of chalk in one hand and a book in the
other. Written on the chalkboard behind the teacher, in flowing script, are two
names: Lewis and Clark.
Who has not heard of Lewis and
Clark? Their expedition is a required lesson in history classes. Teachers tell
children and teens about the two men who led a team of explorers through the
rough lands around the Missouri River. Yet, what is not taught is how big of an
impact their journey had on the English language. Lewis and Clark did not only
pave the way for settlement in the land they explored, but paved the way for a
new English.
In January of 1803, President Thomas
Jefferson sent a message to Congress asking for $2,500 (Buckley). The original
plan for this money was to send a dozen men to explore the Missouri River.
Jefferson hoped that the men could make contact with Native Americans, expand
America’s fur trade, and find the Northwest Passage (Buckley). On February 28,
of the same year, President Jefferson’s request was approved and preparations
started taking place (“Lewis and Clark Expedition”).
The odd thing about the expedition
that Jefferson was planning was that the United States did not actually own the
land he wished to explore, at least not all of it. It was not until the year
1804 that America actually purchased the entirety of the land they wished to
expand into (Bragg). This purchase of land, made between America and France,
has become known as the Louisiana Purchase in history books. After the purchase
of the land, the rush to send out the explorers heightened and Jefferson put
together a team of forty-five men –a bigger team than he had originally planned
–to do the job (Bragg). A ship is nothing without its captain, however, so the
President had to find the right man, or men in this case, to lead the
expedition. He ended up handing the torch to Captain Meriwether Lewis and
William Clark (Bragg).
Lewis and Clark turned out to be the
right men for the job. They were men with military experience and who could
handle the rough terrains the Missouri River presented to them (Bragg). President
Jefferson did not want them to only explore the land, however, he also required
them to journal about their experiences (Bragg). Though his intentions in
having them journal may have been to gain a better understanding of the
landscapes and the Native Americans, their journals ended up having a big
impact on the English language.
Being proper men, both Lewis and
Clark were well versed in the ways of English (Bragg). With puritan backgrounds
and tongues that were capable of speaking such beautiful English that Webster
himself would weep in joy at their speech, one would have expected only the
best English from them (Bragg). Yet, the thing about English is that it morphs.
It shifts and changes to adapt to its surroundings. Though Lewis and Clark
began their expedition with tongues of gold, they ended with tongues of the
common.
We can see the shift in Lewis and
Clark’s language throughout their journal entries, but the new words they were
picking up –and inventing –are very much a part of entries such as the
following, which is an excerpt of an entry from Clark’s journal:
“ The Americans are Settled up the Mississippi for 56 miles as high up
a[s] the Sandy river from thence across to the Missouries river
a Salt works is establish[ed] on a Small river 30 miles up the river 10 miles
from the mississippi I am told that an old french fort was once
built on the opsd Side of the river from me, and that Some remains of the
clearing is yet to be seen, this must be the fort which was built in the year
1724 by M. de Bourgmot the Comdt.” (“Journals”).
The
above passage may be hard to understand. Words like “opsd” and strange spacing
is used. Though this language is different from what is seen today, it is still
English. It is not the English that Lewis and Clark had been taught as
schoolchildren, however. It is English showing the creativity of its yielders.
English that shows influences of other languages.
The
travels of Lewis and Clark brought them into contact with Native Americans,
whom neither of the men could understand. The language barrier between
themselves and the Native Americans brought about the need of a translator,
thus Sacajawea –a female Native American –was recruited to aid them
(“Sacajawea”). With her help, the men were able to communicate with the Native
Americans they encountered, which led to them picking up on some of their
words. Native American words –such as: “Maize,” “moccasin,” “moose,” “opossum,”
“pecan,” “squaw,” “powwow,” and “totem” –made their way into the speech of
Lewis, Clark, and their team of explorers (Bragg). With the men speaking theses
words, as well as writing them in their journals, they were integrated into the
English language.
Native
American languages were not the only thing that caused the English language to
morph. There was also the landscape. The expedition team encountered many
rivers and landscapes that they had never seen before. As a result, they were
forced to change their language. They began naming the rivers they came upon
after members of their team –such as Reuben’s Creek –and combined words to name
birds or trees, like with the cottonwood tree (Bragg).
The
original English word “Creek” had meant a tidal inlet, but the explorers used
it to describe all sorts of streams (Bragg). Words like “rapid” were turned
into “rapids”, going from a quick movement to rapidly moving water. Likewise,
“bluff” started to mean broad faced cliffs (Bragg).
Incidents
that happened along their travels, the physical features of landscapes, and the
names of those they loved were used to name places (Bragg). “Colt-killed
Creek,” “Diamond Island,” and “Fanny’s Island” are all examples of this. Also,
the naming of subspecies began to happen by the combining of color and the name
of the species, such was the case with “blue grass,” and “black bear,” (Bragg).
As
Melvyn Bragg writes in his book, The
Adventures of English: The Biography of a Language, “English went
word-drunk and it was to stay intoxicated out west for decades to come.”
(Braggs). It could be argued that English has yet to sober up. With modern
language changing into slang, and slang changing into text-talk, English is
still jamming words to together as well as shortening them.
Even
though English is a constantly changing language, it is still beautiful. It is
adaptable, it is flexible, and it caters to all classes. Without Lewis and
Clark, English would not be what it is today. Without their influence, and the
opening up of more land for people to settle and converse on –consequently
leading to a mass immigration – English would not have gotten the same
opportunity to evolve. Yes, it would have eventually changed, but –though it is
sad to say –it is very unlikely that Native American languages would have
served such a great role in its change. It was, after all, Lewis and Clark that
helped introduce the Native American languages to the English one. Thank goodness
for President Jefferson’s desired expedition. English certainly would not be
the same without it and its leaders, Captain Meriwether Lewis and William Clark.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Works Cited
Bragg, Melvyn. The Adventures of English: The Biography of a language. New York:
Arcade
Publishing, 2003. Print.
Buckley, Jay H. “Lewis and Clark Expedition.”
Encyclopedia Britannica. 2013.
“January 3-4, 18-04.” The Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. N.P. Web. 6 Mar.
2013.
“Lewis and Clark Expedition.” US.
History. N.P. Web. 4 Mar. 2013.
“Sacajawea.” Lewis and Clark Trail. Lewis and Clark Trails, n.d. web. 7 Mar.
2013
Monday, March 4, 2013
It's Okay to be a Crazy English Student: A rambling about my day.
"Say these sounds." a linguistics professor indicates the smart board that proudly displays the list of sounds she wants the class to say. "Z-Z-Z"
The silent class share glances. The students are all thinking the same thought. It isn't long until their professor raises her hands and states, "It's okay to say them. It would make you look like a crazy person but this is a whole class. We can be crazy together."
There are times in life where I question myself. Where I question the path I've chosen and wonder if the destination is anywhere close to where I really want to be.
There are times when I'm with friends (of other majors) and feel like a crazy person. I might as well be sitting at a table reciting the phonetic alphabet instead of trying to explain the greatness of a piece of literature to friends, for I get looked at like I'm crazy anyway. But then there are the times when I know for sure that I'm on the correct path, and being a crazy English student isn't a bad thing.
"Z-Z-Z."
"Good!" the professor praises. "Now, place your hand on your neck like this."
With thumb pressed on one side of their necks and fingers resting on the other, they resemble a bunch of doctors trying to feel for swelling within their throats.
"Now, say it again. Z-Z-Z. Do you feel the vibrations?"
The class nods and are given another sound to say. "S-S-S."
"Are there any vibrations?"
"No," the class answers as one body."
Today has been one of those days where I've felt at peace with my major. Though the Shadow (who you may recall me mentioning in another post) has been dragging me down today -and yesterday...and the day before that...and...well, basically every day -I was reminded in class that I'm not as crazy as it would like me to think I am. Okay, so I may be crazy, but it's not a negative crazy. I should be proud of it...I am proud of it. I just needed a class today that allowed me to be crazy with other crazy people. A class where if the Shadow walked into it'd be considered the crazy one. It'd be the one out of place.
"V-V-V"
"F-F-F"
"M-M-M"
"P-P-P"
"See if you can find out which sounds are voiceless (creating no vibrations) and which ones are voiced (creating vibrations)," the professor instructs.
"O-O-O"
"A-A-A"
"B-B-B"
"C-C-C"
"D-D-D"
"E-E-E"
"G-G-G"
"Gerrrrrrrrrr"
Two students crack up laughing. Due to throat issues and recent illnesses, G is not a sound they can say very easily. One manged to pull it off, but the other ends up growling. Red tinges their faces as they burst out in laughter. Their professor flashes them a brilliant white smile. She begins laughing along with them and makes another remark about being crazy.
A website is pulled up on the smart board, displaying sounds letters on one side and a picture of the human mouth and throat on the other. The professor clicks on each letter and the picture says it, it's mouth and throat moving according to the sounds. The students can now see the vibrations taking place when sounds are spoken.
Who would have thought the phonetic alphabet could be so exciting? Who would have thought it would create so much laughter and lighten so many moods? I certainly didn't, and yet it has been the highlight of my day. That class created a blaze out of the dwindling English spark within me.
Something that you may not know about being an English major is that it is easy to grow weary in it. We are forced to read...a lot...and it's not pleasant. You would think reading would be easy, but when you have three, four, five, maybe even six different stories to read, plus text book material, response papers, and research paper to write (not to mention work from other classes) it can become quite tedious. I swear, being an English major has completely ruined how I read. I have such a hard time now reading something at face value. The habit of dissecting literature has taken root within me and it is a hard habit to fight.
Today though, there has been no negativity placed on my major -outside of what the Shadow has placed upon it - and it has felt great. It has been paradise to goof around with the English language, to forget about the stories and analysis, to let go the topic of the Human Condition, and to just play with language as if it were a container of Playdough.
Language is something we take for granted. Humans are the only creatures capable of speaking the language we have. Our language is sacred. It is so unique. Our mouths, our teeth, our tongues, larynx, and pharynx are special. When you sit in a class room and are presented with multiple ways that our language is sacred, and leave with the knowledge there are a million more reasons you have yet to discus it's hard to not be excited by it...at least, it's hard for me -the English major -not to.
When I look at language I see God. I see how special he made us. How we couldn't have evolved and how something like the complexity of human communication couldn't have just happened by mistake...and it leaves me in awe. Combine that feeling of awe with the assurance that it's okay to be crazy, and the wonder of the human language, and I am flying at the moment. No joke. I doubt anything could bring me down at the moment. Though I won't say those words allowed for the Shadow would most likely see them as a challenge.
For the final words of this post I'll leave you with the final words of the story I have been telling you.
As the class came to an end the students packed their bags. The display on the smart board was being turned off and the professor was gathering up the response paper the class had turned in. Yet, as the students prepared to leave their haven sounds of, "Z-Z-Z" and "D-D-D" could be heard.
"Yes! Yes!" the professor grinned. " Do that! Go into a room and do it. Do it in public and people will think you've gone mad."
And gone mad the students had, but it was a madness they basked in. A madness that kept them high so the claws of reality couldn't destroy them.
The silent class share glances. The students are all thinking the same thought. It isn't long until their professor raises her hands and states, "It's okay to say them. It would make you look like a crazy person but this is a whole class. We can be crazy together."
There are times in life where I question myself. Where I question the path I've chosen and wonder if the destination is anywhere close to where I really want to be.
There are times when I'm with friends (of other majors) and feel like a crazy person. I might as well be sitting at a table reciting the phonetic alphabet instead of trying to explain the greatness of a piece of literature to friends, for I get looked at like I'm crazy anyway. But then there are the times when I know for sure that I'm on the correct path, and being a crazy English student isn't a bad thing.
"Z-Z-Z."
"Good!" the professor praises. "Now, place your hand on your neck like this."
With thumb pressed on one side of their necks and fingers resting on the other, they resemble a bunch of doctors trying to feel for swelling within their throats.
"Now, say it again. Z-Z-Z. Do you feel the vibrations?"
The class nods and are given another sound to say. "S-S-S."
"Are there any vibrations?"
"No," the class answers as one body."
Today has been one of those days where I've felt at peace with my major. Though the Shadow (who you may recall me mentioning in another post) has been dragging me down today -and yesterday...and the day before that...and...well, basically every day -I was reminded in class that I'm not as crazy as it would like me to think I am. Okay, so I may be crazy, but it's not a negative crazy. I should be proud of it...I am proud of it. I just needed a class today that allowed me to be crazy with other crazy people. A class where if the Shadow walked into it'd be considered the crazy one. It'd be the one out of place.
"V-V-V"
"F-F-F"
"M-M-M"
"P-P-P"
"See if you can find out which sounds are voiceless (creating no vibrations) and which ones are voiced (creating vibrations)," the professor instructs.
"O-O-O"
"A-A-A"
"B-B-B"
"C-C-C"
"D-D-D"
"E-E-E"
"G-G-G"
"Gerrrrrrrrrr"
Two students crack up laughing. Due to throat issues and recent illnesses, G is not a sound they can say very easily. One manged to pull it off, but the other ends up growling. Red tinges their faces as they burst out in laughter. Their professor flashes them a brilliant white smile. She begins laughing along with them and makes another remark about being crazy.
A website is pulled up on the smart board, displaying sounds letters on one side and a picture of the human mouth and throat on the other. The professor clicks on each letter and the picture says it, it's mouth and throat moving according to the sounds. The students can now see the vibrations taking place when sounds are spoken.
Who would have thought the phonetic alphabet could be so exciting? Who would have thought it would create so much laughter and lighten so many moods? I certainly didn't, and yet it has been the highlight of my day. That class created a blaze out of the dwindling English spark within me.
Something that you may not know about being an English major is that it is easy to grow weary in it. We are forced to read...a lot...and it's not pleasant. You would think reading would be easy, but when you have three, four, five, maybe even six different stories to read, plus text book material, response papers, and research paper to write (not to mention work from other classes) it can become quite tedious. I swear, being an English major has completely ruined how I read. I have such a hard time now reading something at face value. The habit of dissecting literature has taken root within me and it is a hard habit to fight.
Today though, there has been no negativity placed on my major -outside of what the Shadow has placed upon it - and it has felt great. It has been paradise to goof around with the English language, to forget about the stories and analysis, to let go the topic of the Human Condition, and to just play with language as if it were a container of Playdough.
Language is something we take for granted. Humans are the only creatures capable of speaking the language we have. Our language is sacred. It is so unique. Our mouths, our teeth, our tongues, larynx, and pharynx are special. When you sit in a class room and are presented with multiple ways that our language is sacred, and leave with the knowledge there are a million more reasons you have yet to discus it's hard to not be excited by it...at least, it's hard for me -the English major -not to.
When I look at language I see God. I see how special he made us. How we couldn't have evolved and how something like the complexity of human communication couldn't have just happened by mistake...and it leaves me in awe. Combine that feeling of awe with the assurance that it's okay to be crazy, and the wonder of the human language, and I am flying at the moment. No joke. I doubt anything could bring me down at the moment. Though I won't say those words allowed for the Shadow would most likely see them as a challenge.
For the final words of this post I'll leave you with the final words of the story I have been telling you.
As the class came to an end the students packed their bags. The display on the smart board was being turned off and the professor was gathering up the response paper the class had turned in. Yet, as the students prepared to leave their haven sounds of, "Z-Z-Z" and "D-D-D" could be heard.
"Yes! Yes!" the professor grinned. " Do that! Go into a room and do it. Do it in public and people will think you've gone mad."
And gone mad the students had, but it was a madness they basked in. A madness that kept them high so the claws of reality couldn't destroy them.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Hair so Brown and Eyes so Blue
Hair so Brown and Eyes so Blue
A poem dedicated to my sister
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Your voice,
So tiny,
Calls out in joy
As you reach for me.
Your fist,
So small,
Is barely large enough
To hold onto my finger.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Your steps,
So light,
Are full of delight
As you walk my way.
You stubble,
You fall,
You learn to crawl
And then to dance about.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Your voice,
It’s raised,
As you yell out
For someone to play with.
Your hair,
So soft,
Is in two braids
As you clutch your doll.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
You gulp,
You’re nervous,
You’re afraid of night
For next will come day.
You hold,
That violin,
So delicately in hands
That are shaking with fright.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
You pack,
Many bags,
Give your friends hugs
And ready for an adventure.
You leave,
With tears,
But face the world
With a mask of strength.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
You’ve come,
So far,
Along this long road
That is your lovely life.
You’ve grown,
You’ve changed,
You’ve learned the game
And are reaching another door.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Very soon,
Too soon,
You will be graduated
And on your way again.
You’ll learn,
To crawl,
To walk and run
And even who you are.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
I am,
So very,
Very proud of you
And who you have become.
A joy,
It’s been,
To be your sister
As you’ve paved your way.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Please remember,
Don’t forget,
Where ever life leads
I will always love you.
A poem dedicated to my sister
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Your voice,
So tiny,
Calls out in joy
As you reach for me.
Your fist,
So small,
Is barely large enough
To hold onto my finger.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Your steps,
So light,
Are full of delight
As you walk my way.
You stubble,
You fall,
You learn to crawl
And then to dance about.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Your voice,
It’s raised,
As you yell out
For someone to play with.
Your hair,
So soft,
Is in two braids
As you clutch your doll.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
You gulp,
You’re nervous,
You’re afraid of night
For next will come day.
You hold,
That violin,
So delicately in hands
That are shaking with fright.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
You pack,
Many bags,
Give your friends hugs
And ready for an adventure.
You leave,
With tears,
But face the world
With a mask of strength.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
You’ve come,
So far,
Along this long road
That is your lovely life.
You’ve grown,
You’ve changed,
You’ve learned the game
And are reaching another door.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Very soon,
Too soon,
You will be graduated
And on your way again.
You’ll learn,
To crawl,
To walk and run
And even who you are.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
I am,
So very,
Very proud of you
And who you have become.
A joy,
It’s been,
To be your sister
As you’ve paved your way.
Hi there,
Little girl,
With hair so brown
And eyes so blue.
Please remember,
Don’t forget,
Where ever life leads
I will always love you.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Room 119
The following is a short story I wrote about my second home on campus, Room 119 of the Smith building. I spend more time in that room than anywhere else on campus and some of the most wonderful things take place in that room...some of the most thought provoking conversations.
Room 119
In a red-bricked building there are many rooms, but
room 119 is one of the smallest. With walls as pale as week old snow and a
ceiling with a thousand holes, it looks like nothing special. There’s no shine
to it. No lustrous sparkle that makes it stand apart from the other rooms.
119’s
Once blue carpet is stained with the mud of many shoes. There’s no carpet
cleaner brave enough to take on the armies of filth camping in the carpet’s
hard fibers. Each day new armies are carried through the groaning old man of a
door and are deposited upon the carpet. Vacuums attack it nightly, yet the
original blue is still dusty.
The
chairs that sit in orderly lines are not the most uncomfortable in the building
but they aren’t anything you’d want to sit in for more than a class period.
Their desks are heavy, but bend under the weight of books. Their legs sturdy,
but scars mark their silver surfaces. The fabric that covers the cushions is a
purple too close to red to be violet, but too close to purple to be maroon.
Blue and tan threads are visible within the fabric. Words are etched into the
slate grey tops of the small desks. Some of the words have lines drawn through
them, the dark ink from the pen used to carve them is still present in the
depths of the lines.
White
boards cover the walls. Their surfaces cleaner than the ones they reest on,
their silver edges appearing dull despite having recently been installed. The
smart board is the newest item in 119, yet even it is not perfect. It’s an
untrustworthy piece of technology, second only to the room’s computer, that
often rebels against it’s controllers.
The
windows still function properly. They open without so much as a peep and let
fresh air circulate through the menopausal room. The shades, however, were just
as unreliable as the technology. It wasn’t that they rebelled, they just could
no longer do their job properly. They weren’t as flexible as they once were;
their bodies could only cover the windows so much. Even then, they would often
give out and bounce back into their original fetal position after only a few
minutes of covering the windows.
Yes,
119 isn’t the prettiest of rooms, yet English students flock to it like eager
grandchildren to their favorite grandparent. Backpacks are thrown at the feet
of the chairs, books –heavy with knowledge –are piled upon the desks. The
students don’t think twice about entrusting the weight of their books to the
desks. Unlike the technology, the desks have never failed them. And, when the
students take their seats, the room smiles.
Those
who know its worth, those who know each and every character in the room, those
who have read beneath the flickering lights, have peered out its windows at
lawnmowers and butterflies, have argued with the smart board, out smarted the
computer, and cleansed the boards, have returned home.
The
room glows with beauty as its frequenters speak. Their colorful thoughts giving
119 the breath of purpose. 123 may be bigger, 200 over twice its size, 201 may
have better chairs, and the room next to it may be the prettiest, but 119 has a
special place in the hearts of its students. It’s beauty is as bright as a new
penny to them. It’s beauty is immortal.
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Shadow, Irritations, and How Today Was Great.
At eight am this morning I awoke with zero motivation. I contemplated skipping my first class just so I could catch an extra hour of sleep, what with me staying up until four the night before. Sadly, I hadn't stayed up because of some large Superbowl party that had lasted long into the night, but to do homework for the upcoming Monday. I detest Mondays. There is just something awful about them. Yet, as I reasoned with myself this morning, saying that skipping class was fine in order to get some more sleep, my inner voice decided to speak up and remind me of all the reasons why skipping class would be a bad idea.
"You'll miss important notes. You'll ruin your attempt at the extra credit for perfect attendance. You'll kick yourself later if you skip. You'll feel guilty all day. An hour of sleep isn't worth having to go through the trouble of locating reliable people to find out what happened in class. Besides, you don't have this class on Friday. You can sleep in then."
Needless to say, my inner voice won. Leaving me to the task of prying myself from the warmth of my blankets and dragging my sleep heavy body down the ladder of the bunk bed I slept in. I wasn't too happy about leaving behind the warm plush blanket and black comforter as the cold encroached on my personal space. It was no use fighting the cold off, really it wasn't. No mater if I threw a hoodie on or my warmest coat I would still be cold during the walk from the building I reside in to the one my class was in.
When I got to class, however, I was pleased to be there. Not at first, but I did get there. As my professor droned on about a subject I have no interest in but must take (and pass) in order to graduate, I entertained myself by staring down at my notes and thinking over the day's schedule. My attention was drawn back to my professor, however, when he quoted Leroy Brownlow, saying, "There are times when silence has the loudest voice."
I can't even tell you why I liked that quote, but I did. I felt drawn to it, like it was some beautiful truth that I had never heard before. I didn't take much time to ponder over it, merely jotted it down in my notes and attempted to stay awake for the rest of the class. Staying awake wasn't really too hard, for the professor is an energetic speaker who has a way with words, but the content of his lecture wasn't something I cared to be listening to this morning.
As the day went on, I went about my Monday routine. Unfortuantly, I had a shadow of negativity tagging along with me for parts of it. This shadow, which was really a person, kept bringing me down. It brought up negatives about others, it contradicted everything I would say, it used a nickname that I absolutely hate, and then it lectured me on a topic that it had no right to...not that it should have been doing any of the negative activity. That topic, however, was a sore one for me. It's one that I absolutely hate hearing about...I say hearing because I never talk when it is brought up. It's better to stay silent if you have nothing good to say, right? Well, I have nothing good to say to anyone who starts lecturing me on my own eating habits. I have reasons for this that lay in the past and that I won't get into, but allow me to clear something up for anyone reading this.
If I know you, and you are reading this, here are two facts about my eating habits that you should know:
1) I'm not anorexic, don't even joke about me being that. I swear if you tell me I'm not eating enough I will be ticked at you for a decent amount of time. This is one of the few things that makes me livid and can keep me simmering for a while.
2) Don't ever tell me I'm eating too much, especially in the fruit and cheese category. I have a reason for eating the way I do. I'm hypoglycemic (not severely were I have to use insulin but enough where I have to keep a large amount of sugar in my system) and when I eat a lot of fruits and cheese it's because I require the healthy sugars I get from them. They are the quickest way to get sugar into my system.
With those two things cleared up, allow me to continue. This post is not meant to be a rant about life, for I am pretty happy with my life. It is merely meant to be an update on my life. Now, let's continue...shall we?
As the day went on, I decided to ignore the shadow. I busied myself with assigned readings and getting ready for my night class. I was barely on the internet throughout the daylight hours, instead spending my free time working on assigned readings, taking walks on a trail that runs around the campus, and having a much needed conversation with my amazing mother.
When the time for my night class came, I was ready. A three hour class with my favorite professor, and it's all about literature. I loved the time spent in the class. Though I didn't talk much in it, I enjoyed it. I'm more of a listener than a speaker in classes. I like hearing my fellow classmates' thoughts and, occasionally throwing in one of my own. Listening to their individual ideas helps me with developing characters for my stories.
It is now 10:03 at night and I have accomplished everything I needed to today. Despite the facts that the shadow irritated me and that I got off to a rough start this morning, today has been glorious. I've stuck to my latest attempt at a health kick, am drinking my first Mountain Dew of the day, and feel overall pleased with where I am in life.
Today was a good day. God kept me safe, silent, and grateful through out all of today's hardships. I am thankful for that and praying the same occurs tomorrow. I
"You'll miss important notes. You'll ruin your attempt at the extra credit for perfect attendance. You'll kick yourself later if you skip. You'll feel guilty all day. An hour of sleep isn't worth having to go through the trouble of locating reliable people to find out what happened in class. Besides, you don't have this class on Friday. You can sleep in then."
Needless to say, my inner voice won. Leaving me to the task of prying myself from the warmth of my blankets and dragging my sleep heavy body down the ladder of the bunk bed I slept in. I wasn't too happy about leaving behind the warm plush blanket and black comforter as the cold encroached on my personal space. It was no use fighting the cold off, really it wasn't. No mater if I threw a hoodie on or my warmest coat I would still be cold during the walk from the building I reside in to the one my class was in.
When I got to class, however, I was pleased to be there. Not at first, but I did get there. As my professor droned on about a subject I have no interest in but must take (and pass) in order to graduate, I entertained myself by staring down at my notes and thinking over the day's schedule. My attention was drawn back to my professor, however, when he quoted Leroy Brownlow, saying, "There are times when silence has the loudest voice."
I can't even tell you why I liked that quote, but I did. I felt drawn to it, like it was some beautiful truth that I had never heard before. I didn't take much time to ponder over it, merely jotted it down in my notes and attempted to stay awake for the rest of the class. Staying awake wasn't really too hard, for the professor is an energetic speaker who has a way with words, but the content of his lecture wasn't something I cared to be listening to this morning.
As the day went on, I went about my Monday routine. Unfortuantly, I had a shadow of negativity tagging along with me for parts of it. This shadow, which was really a person, kept bringing me down. It brought up negatives about others, it contradicted everything I would say, it used a nickname that I absolutely hate, and then it lectured me on a topic that it had no right to...not that it should have been doing any of the negative activity. That topic, however, was a sore one for me. It's one that I absolutely hate hearing about...I say hearing because I never talk when it is brought up. It's better to stay silent if you have nothing good to say, right? Well, I have nothing good to say to anyone who starts lecturing me on my own eating habits. I have reasons for this that lay in the past and that I won't get into, but allow me to clear something up for anyone reading this.
If I know you, and you are reading this, here are two facts about my eating habits that you should know:
1) I'm not anorexic, don't even joke about me being that. I swear if you tell me I'm not eating enough I will be ticked at you for a decent amount of time. This is one of the few things that makes me livid and can keep me simmering for a while.
2) Don't ever tell me I'm eating too much, especially in the fruit and cheese category. I have a reason for eating the way I do. I'm hypoglycemic (not severely were I have to use insulin but enough where I have to keep a large amount of sugar in my system) and when I eat a lot of fruits and cheese it's because I require the healthy sugars I get from them. They are the quickest way to get sugar into my system.
With those two things cleared up, allow me to continue. This post is not meant to be a rant about life, for I am pretty happy with my life. It is merely meant to be an update on my life. Now, let's continue...shall we?
As the day went on, I decided to ignore the shadow. I busied myself with assigned readings and getting ready for my night class. I was barely on the internet throughout the daylight hours, instead spending my free time working on assigned readings, taking walks on a trail that runs around the campus, and having a much needed conversation with my amazing mother.
When the time for my night class came, I was ready. A three hour class with my favorite professor, and it's all about literature. I loved the time spent in the class. Though I didn't talk much in it, I enjoyed it. I'm more of a listener than a speaker in classes. I like hearing my fellow classmates' thoughts and, occasionally throwing in one of my own. Listening to their individual ideas helps me with developing characters for my stories.
It is now 10:03 at night and I have accomplished everything I needed to today. Despite the facts that the shadow irritated me and that I got off to a rough start this morning, today has been glorious. I've stuck to my latest attempt at a health kick, am drinking my first Mountain Dew of the day, and feel overall pleased with where I am in life.
Today was a good day. God kept me safe, silent, and grateful through out all of today's hardships. I am thankful for that and praying the same occurs tomorrow. I
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)