When I get asked how my Christmas break has been going, I answer that... bad. It hasn't been good. Lets go over what I have done... watched people install hardwood floors in my house, paint pen cups for all the little bebe's at church, watched hours and hours of GSN, become a Laguna Beach addict (so tragic), finish reading the fifth Harry Potter, completed the first in A Series of Unfortunate Events, stayed up 'til 2 and 3 am, and woken up at 1 pm. Yep. I would say that has been the recipe for a bad break.
Right now (OOH, ROSEANNE IS COMING ON!), I am up watching Nick at Nite, talking to Matt Lub, and making thefacebook my bitch by sending holiday messages to friends from high school, middle school, and I just sent one to a friend from day care. Thefacebook is a wonderful thing.
I decided the other night that I am not going to New Jersey to visit Betsy... lack of money... and a sudden lack of interest. Seriously. All I can say is that it is not time for another engagement... I can't f-ing take it. I'm on engagement overload.
In other news, I'm not even supposed to be on this computer. My dad came downstairs the other night while I was vegging out to--well whaddya know?--Nick at Nite and goes, "You and Donovan aren't allowed on the computer. Y'all broke it." And the record stopped and the cars halted to a stop... I was responsible for this POS computer being "broken?" WTF? I have a 4 year old, cheap ass eMachine and Lord knows that I do my share of word processing and internet browsing. This thing is only about 2 years old and it is a Hewlett-Packard. If this thing is messed up it is no fault of mine... and besides, I JUST GOT HOME LAST WEEK! Well, I expressed my frustration to my mom and she took my side for once... She told me I could get on it when my dad wasn't around. I thought it was funny. Definitely a moment from The Fairly Odd Parents... oh yeah... I have become THE TV junky since I have been home.
Let's see, what else? Oh yeah, Christmas... that is coming up soon. Not like I can tell or anything. There are no signs of Christmas here except for the presents that people from church and my mom's office have given her that are sitting in the corner of the family room by the recliner. Yeah. So Merry Christmas... I miss the way things used to be. My aunt actually told me tonight at church that I am at that age where Christmas isn't for me anymroe. "Christmas is for children," she said. "I have to remind myself of that every year." And she's 34. I thought that once you turn 21, you just kinda figure it out. But I guess not. I kinda think the reason she feels that way though is because she really doesn't have anyone to buy her anything. It's just her and her 13 year old son, so it's not like he can really get her anything too nice. One day, I'm going to get something really nice for my aunt... to make up for her Christmases that she missed out on. Maybe someone will do the same for me when I am 34 and single...
Bad... just bad...
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Monday, December 20, 2004
to the eastside high school class of 2001...
Tonight Todd held his annual Christmas party. It's always fun to go to the party because usually it is a chance for people from high school that are at different colleges to get together and reminisce on how things were and talk about how things are going now. This years party was a little different from normal... This is the last one.
See, Todd is graduating from college this May, along with most of the people that go to the party each year. After 4 years, we are going to be completely done with college, which in a way means we will be done with each other. Sure we will always be able to get in touch with each other through e-mail and the phone, but after this year, there is no absolute...
Every year since this one, we could pretty much always count on being home within the vicinity of Eastside and each other at Christmas time. Next year, people will be working jobs, possibly in far away cities, with significant others, and possibly new additions to their families.
Even this year, we discussed some of the people from high school who have already crested that hill in their life... our classmates who are married, have children... It's so weird to think that that time has actually come for us. And you know, in a way, it kinda catches you off guard. Four years ago, we were all at the same spot in our lives... graduating from high school. Now, 4 years later, we all aren't at the same spot anymore. That's kinda scary.
So among that class of about 250, there are now college students, college graduates, graduate students, workers, mothers, fathers, fiancees, husbands, wives... Among that class of 250, there are adults.
And even though this was the last "Todd's Annual Christmas Party," there will be plenty more Christmas parties for all of us... with plenty more people and plenty memories to look back on. Life has pretty much just begun for us. We haven't experienced anything... maybe that is why they call graduation "commencement." Maybe our lives are just now commencing...
See, Todd is graduating from college this May, along with most of the people that go to the party each year. After 4 years, we are going to be completely done with college, which in a way means we will be done with each other. Sure we will always be able to get in touch with each other through e-mail and the phone, but after this year, there is no absolute...
Every year since this one, we could pretty much always count on being home within the vicinity of Eastside and each other at Christmas time. Next year, people will be working jobs, possibly in far away cities, with significant others, and possibly new additions to their families.
Even this year, we discussed some of the people from high school who have already crested that hill in their life... our classmates who are married, have children... It's so weird to think that that time has actually come for us. And you know, in a way, it kinda catches you off guard. Four years ago, we were all at the same spot in our lives... graduating from high school. Now, 4 years later, we all aren't at the same spot anymore. That's kinda scary.
So among that class of about 250, there are now college students, college graduates, graduate students, workers, mothers, fathers, fiancees, husbands, wives... Among that class of 250, there are adults.
And even though this was the last "Todd's Annual Christmas Party," there will be plenty more Christmas parties for all of us... with plenty more people and plenty memories to look back on. Life has pretty much just begun for us. We haven't experienced anything... maybe that is why they call graduation "commencement." Maybe our lives are just now commencing...
Saturday, December 18, 2004
negroes
My dad is at it again. I hate when he plays the race card. I hate when ANYONE plays the race card.
Right now, I am listening as he is talking to the men doing our hardwood floors downstairs.
He just told a story about how a man at North Greenville College where he teaches asked him how he can drive the car that he does (a BMW 745iL), and the man was only driving his car (whatever it was). My dad said he asked him, "What do you mean? How can a BLACK man drive a car like this?"
OMG! The statement of an angry black man if I have ever seen one.
Then, I hear the truth about why I live where I live. My dad says, "Well, we got here in 1985 and my wife and I tried to find a black neighborhood. All we could find was Pine Hill and I was like, 'That's it?' So I met this man and asked him if he knew a church we could go to. He directed us to Enoree Fork and we've been over on this side of town ever since." BOO! Excuse me for just one second. I am SO glad that I don't live in a "black neighborhood." And I don't care if I sound like I am "denying my blackness" or whatever. What is considered "a black neighborhood," anyway? Is that a neighborhood void of white people? Because if so, that is the furthest thing from reality if I have ever seen one.
My God?! Why do black people feel the need to segregate themselves from the rest of society. See, there was this thing called the Civil Rights movement that made everyone equal. Blacks, whites, ANYONE can live where ever they want and do whatever they want. Everyone is always talking about how, white people are still suppressing the black man. Well excuse the phrase, but FUCK ALL OF YOU who say that. I know for a fact that it is possible for a black man or woman to do everything that a white man or woman can do.
That dumb bitch Stacie on The Apprentice was like, "You can't be black and go on reality television, because regardless of what you do, you are going to end up being called crazy." Shut the hell up, you peasy headed girl... The reason why YOU were considered crazy is because your damn ass is CRAZY! Kevin on the show didn't say that. He said just the opposite. "No one stereotypes you to be anything on these shows. You end up being labeled exactly what you are. If you are a successful and intelligent individual, you will be seen that way." And "my brotha" made it to the last 4 people on the show.
Don't sit there and tell me that black people can't do it. If you think that, it's because YOU as a black person lack the confidence not in black people, but in yourself. When I tried out for drum major, lots of black people in the band told me that a black person would never be drum major at Clemson. Well here's a big FUCK YOU to them as well... I did it, bitches. AND SO DID LEROY! THAT'S TWO BLACK MOTHERFUCKERS FOR YOU! And if you look back at pictures, there have been black drum majors BEFORE the two of us. So as much as I would like to take pride in saying that I was SO great because I was A BLACK DRUM MAJOR AT CLEMSON, big fucking deal. It happened before me, it will happen after me. On top of that, this man who is somehow related to me, was telling my dad that it was SUCH a big deal for me to be in the position I was in at Clemson because of the history of the university and the race relations therein. WHATEVER! He has yet to tell me the huge statement I made as a black man, but to be completely honest and true, I don't buy it one bit. When Harvey Gantt, the first black student, came to Clemson , they documented it as "Integration with Dignity" or something like that... it says it in this plaque out front of Tillman Hall. Apparently, race relations have not been a big deal at Clemson. Yes it is in the heart of the conservative south, but all conservative southern people are not Klans members that want to see black people fail... just like not all black people are failures at life.
BLACK PEOPLE CAN DO EVERYTHING THAT WHITE PEOPLE CAN DO. We are not better, we are not worse. We are equal. And I am sick of people drawing the line between the two. I am sick of being told not to trust white people. I am sick of being told "what white people do" and "what black people do." I am sick of heing criticized because I talk like "a white person." I am sick of being criticized because I don't hang out with JUST black people. I am sick of other black people segregating themselves from the racial whole. I'm sick of it all.
I am an intelligent, successful, determined, goal oriented HUMAN BEING that does not give a flying rats ass about color or race. The color of my skin is nothing but that, the color of my skin. Within it does not lie disadvantage or advantage. If I am unsuccessful, it is because I, HAMILTON PARKS was not prepared or qualified enough... NOT because I am black.
So this is a warning... I suggest if you are going to discuss race around me, you better think again. I'm through with dealing with race.
Right now, I am listening as he is talking to the men doing our hardwood floors downstairs.
He just told a story about how a man at North Greenville College where he teaches asked him how he can drive the car that he does (a BMW 745iL), and the man was only driving his car (whatever it was). My dad said he asked him, "What do you mean? How can a BLACK man drive a car like this?"
OMG! The statement of an angry black man if I have ever seen one.
Then, I hear the truth about why I live where I live. My dad says, "Well, we got here in 1985 and my wife and I tried to find a black neighborhood. All we could find was Pine Hill and I was like, 'That's it?' So I met this man and asked him if he knew a church we could go to. He directed us to Enoree Fork and we've been over on this side of town ever since." BOO! Excuse me for just one second. I am SO glad that I don't live in a "black neighborhood." And I don't care if I sound like I am "denying my blackness" or whatever. What is considered "a black neighborhood," anyway? Is that a neighborhood void of white people? Because if so, that is the furthest thing from reality if I have ever seen one.
My God?! Why do black people feel the need to segregate themselves from the rest of society. See, there was this thing called the Civil Rights movement that made everyone equal. Blacks, whites, ANYONE can live where ever they want and do whatever they want. Everyone is always talking about how, white people are still suppressing the black man. Well excuse the phrase, but FUCK ALL OF YOU who say that. I know for a fact that it is possible for a black man or woman to do everything that a white man or woman can do.
That dumb bitch Stacie on The Apprentice was like, "You can't be black and go on reality television, because regardless of what you do, you are going to end up being called crazy." Shut the hell up, you peasy headed girl... The reason why YOU were considered crazy is because your damn ass is CRAZY! Kevin on the show didn't say that. He said just the opposite. "No one stereotypes you to be anything on these shows. You end up being labeled exactly what you are. If you are a successful and intelligent individual, you will be seen that way." And "my brotha" made it to the last 4 people on the show.
Don't sit there and tell me that black people can't do it. If you think that, it's because YOU as a black person lack the confidence not in black people, but in yourself. When I tried out for drum major, lots of black people in the band told me that a black person would never be drum major at Clemson. Well here's a big FUCK YOU to them as well... I did it, bitches. AND SO DID LEROY! THAT'S TWO BLACK MOTHERFUCKERS FOR YOU! And if you look back at pictures, there have been black drum majors BEFORE the two of us. So as much as I would like to take pride in saying that I was SO great because I was A BLACK DRUM MAJOR AT CLEMSON, big fucking deal. It happened before me, it will happen after me. On top of that, this man who is somehow related to me, was telling my dad that it was SUCH a big deal for me to be in the position I was in at Clemson because of the history of the university and the race relations therein. WHATEVER! He has yet to tell me the huge statement I made as a black man, but to be completely honest and true, I don't buy it one bit. When Harvey Gantt, the first black student, came to Clemson , they documented it as "Integration with Dignity" or something like that... it says it in this plaque out front of Tillman Hall. Apparently, race relations have not been a big deal at Clemson. Yes it is in the heart of the conservative south, but all conservative southern people are not Klans members that want to see black people fail... just like not all black people are failures at life.
BLACK PEOPLE CAN DO EVERYTHING THAT WHITE PEOPLE CAN DO. We are not better, we are not worse. We are equal. And I am sick of people drawing the line between the two. I am sick of being told not to trust white people. I am sick of being told "what white people do" and "what black people do." I am sick of heing criticized because I talk like "a white person." I am sick of being criticized because I don't hang out with JUST black people. I am sick of other black people segregating themselves from the racial whole. I'm sick of it all.
I am an intelligent, successful, determined, goal oriented HUMAN BEING that does not give a flying rats ass about color or race. The color of my skin is nothing but that, the color of my skin. Within it does not lie disadvantage or advantage. If I am unsuccessful, it is because I, HAMILTON PARKS was not prepared or qualified enough... NOT because I am black.
So this is a warning... I suggest if you are going to discuss race around me, you better think again. I'm through with dealing with race.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
changes on bushberry way
Well, my first full day... wait a minute... I am typing in IE... and it's working! HOLY SH*T!
Anyway... today was my first full day at home. I woke up at 12. I had scrambled eggs. I watched GSN. I played on thefacebook. I ate dinner. I watched The Apprentice (boo for Kelly beating Jenn). I played on thefacebook again.
The life of a god, right? WRONG. In between playing on thefacebook and dinner, I experienced 2 pretty weird things at my house. First of all, my mom came home and told me all about "the facelift" our house is getting. Tomorrow, they start putting in hardwood floors all throughout the downstairs. I think it should be pretty nice, although I am not looking forward to moving crap around. Also, we are going to be painting... like EVERYTHING. My house is really open. The foyer and family room are pretty much one big open space. So we are painting the foyer wine and the family room champagne (ooh... alchohol... LOL). It's going to look REALLY different around here. I guess this place could use something to make me want to be here... but it's still no substitute for an f-ing Christmas Tree.
The second weird thing in the house was in the form of my brother walking into the house at 6:15 with keys in his hand. Yes. My little brother is driving now. IT IS SO WEIRD! I feel so old. But, I am SO glad that I don't have to play taxi anymore. At dinner he was all like, "Booooooooooy... I'm so excited! Tomorrow's Friday and I can driiiiiiiiive!" I was like, "So." Apparently it is a big deal that he is going to be able to drive a mile up the road to the basketball game to the school where he spends the whole day anyway. I guess I shouldn't be so insennsitive... it's something new to him.
Anyway, I should go to bed soon. I have to be up early to move stuff out of my parents' bedroom so they can start on the floor in there in the morning. I'm looking forward to going back to CU for the basketball game tomorrow though...
Anyway... today was my first full day at home. I woke up at 12. I had scrambled eggs. I watched GSN. I played on thefacebook. I ate dinner. I watched The Apprentice (boo for Kelly beating Jenn). I played on thefacebook again.
The life of a god, right? WRONG. In between playing on thefacebook and dinner, I experienced 2 pretty weird things at my house. First of all, my mom came home and told me all about "the facelift" our house is getting. Tomorrow, they start putting in hardwood floors all throughout the downstairs. I think it should be pretty nice, although I am not looking forward to moving crap around. Also, we are going to be painting... like EVERYTHING. My house is really open. The foyer and family room are pretty much one big open space. So we are painting the foyer wine and the family room champagne (ooh... alchohol... LOL). It's going to look REALLY different around here. I guess this place could use something to make me want to be here... but it's still no substitute for an f-ing Christmas Tree.
The second weird thing in the house was in the form of my brother walking into the house at 6:15 with keys in his hand. Yes. My little brother is driving now. IT IS SO WEIRD! I feel so old. But, I am SO glad that I don't have to play taxi anymore. At dinner he was all like, "Booooooooooy... I'm so excited! Tomorrow's Friday and I can driiiiiiiiive!" I was like, "So." Apparently it is a big deal that he is going to be able to drive a mile up the road to the basketball game to the school where he spends the whole day anyway. I guess I shouldn't be so insennsitive... it's something new to him.
Anyway, I should go to bed soon. I have to be up early to move stuff out of my parents' bedroom so they can start on the floor in there in the morning. I'm looking forward to going back to CU for the basketball game tomorrow though...
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
panic in greer
Wow. There was about to be some serious issues here in Greer. Yeah, that's where I am. I have decided to go ahead and deal with the fact that I live in Greer. I don't live in Greenville. I live in Greenville County, but my mailing address is Greer... now that I have claimed Greer, Hoke needs to give up Clemson and go ahead and claim Seneca... at least it's not Walhalla... OR GREER!
Anyway, the panic I was talking about was in reference to not being able to post from the IE on this computer. I don't know what the dilly is here. Something is always short bus about this computer. Thankfully, I can blog using Netscape, so that is what I'll be using while I am home this break. Netscape v7.1: Preferred by Bloggers in Greer (just a little plug).
Well, I haven't written in a good long while. Exams are over. I made 3 As and 3 Bs. A 3.35. I am okay with this, although I really wanted a 3.5. Now my cumulative GPA is 3.25. I'm not happy about it either. Luckily though, I am taking 13 hours next semester, which should be 13 hours worth of As. I don't know if that will bump me up to a 3.4. That is the goal, 'cause that is cum laude.
As for graduation, I am once again at a crossroads about where I want to go next year. A lot of my friends at Clemson are trying to get me to stay. I know I would have a good time. But I REALLY don't want to be that old guy (aka Tarik... LOL). Right now, my applications to all 3 schools are only partly complete. I have to give out recommendation forms and send in money to USC and Clemson and fill out a whole 2nd part of the UGA application. I think I am going to be lazy and just not finish applying there. Seriously. I would be close to my UGA friends, and it would be a lot of fun... I dunno. I'll apply there if I get really bored and have nothing else to do... so it looks like I'll be applying there.
I thought I had more to say... I haven't written since the 8th... so I guess it's been a week. Tragic. Sorry about that. I guess I just enjoyed my time in Clemson without class and exams a little too much. But, not to worry. I am home in GrOSS now and me and Netscape are going to blog the Christmas Holidays away.
OH... THAT'S what I wanted to discuss a little. The Christmas Holidays at my house. Well, it doesn't feel like Christmas. We haven't truly done a Parks Family Christmas since I was in high school. Year by year, we have dwindled down to this year, in which we don't even have a tree. My mom was all like, well, you know we are having a lot of work done on the house. Yeah. We are painting and getting hardwood floors all throughout the downstairs... but part of me thinks that we wouldn't do a tree even if there wasn't anything going on. There used to be a time when our house was the brightest in the neighborhood. Now it's by far the dullest. Home just feels weird now. I hardly know it. I don't want to be here half the time. It's sad, 'cause I remeember in 8th grade when I LONGED to be in this house while it was being built. Eight years later, it's just my folks' house. But don't get me wrong... my apartment at The Reserve isn't home either. I think I am just ready for my own steady place. Something that I can really call mine...
...I think the want for this has sprung from episodes of How Clean is Your House? and Trading Spaces... lots more of that and other TV shows to watch over break... oh joy.
Anyway, the panic I was talking about was in reference to not being able to post from the IE on this computer. I don't know what the dilly is here. Something is always short bus about this computer. Thankfully, I can blog using Netscape, so that is what I'll be using while I am home this break. Netscape v7.1: Preferred by Bloggers in Greer (just a little plug).
Well, I haven't written in a good long while. Exams are over. I made 3 As and 3 Bs. A 3.35. I am okay with this, although I really wanted a 3.5. Now my cumulative GPA is 3.25. I'm not happy about it either. Luckily though, I am taking 13 hours next semester, which should be 13 hours worth of As. I don't know if that will bump me up to a 3.4. That is the goal, 'cause that is cum laude.
As for graduation, I am once again at a crossroads about where I want to go next year. A lot of my friends at Clemson are trying to get me to stay. I know I would have a good time. But I REALLY don't want to be that old guy (aka Tarik... LOL). Right now, my applications to all 3 schools are only partly complete. I have to give out recommendation forms and send in money to USC and Clemson and fill out a whole 2nd part of the UGA application. I think I am going to be lazy and just not finish applying there. Seriously. I would be close to my UGA friends, and it would be a lot of fun... I dunno. I'll apply there if I get really bored and have nothing else to do... so it looks like I'll be applying there.
I thought I had more to say... I haven't written since the 8th... so I guess it's been a week. Tragic. Sorry about that. I guess I just enjoyed my time in Clemson without class and exams a little too much. But, not to worry. I am home in GrOSS now and me and Netscape are going to blog the Christmas Holidays away.
OH... THAT'S what I wanted to discuss a little. The Christmas Holidays at my house. Well, it doesn't feel like Christmas. We haven't truly done a Parks Family Christmas since I was in high school. Year by year, we have dwindled down to this year, in which we don't even have a tree. My mom was all like, well, you know we are having a lot of work done on the house. Yeah. We are painting and getting hardwood floors all throughout the downstairs... but part of me thinks that we wouldn't do a tree even if there wasn't anything going on. There used to be a time when our house was the brightest in the neighborhood. Now it's by far the dullest. Home just feels weird now. I hardly know it. I don't want to be here half the time. It's sad, 'cause I remeember in 8th grade when I LONGED to be in this house while it was being built. Eight years later, it's just my folks' house. But don't get me wrong... my apartment at The Reserve isn't home either. I think I am just ready for my own steady place. Something that I can really call mine...
...I think the want for this has sprung from episodes of How Clean is Your House? and Trading Spaces... lots more of that and other TV shows to watch over break... oh joy.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
t'was the night before my last exam...
...and in a cup in my hand, was a concoction of 99 Apples and fruit punch. That is right, fellers. A toast to being done with making up that beast of a cheat sheet for Dr. Dunston's sorry exam. Wanna know how I really feel? This is the away message I made up... inspired by the "Stressed Out College Student During Exam Week" away message that has been floating around...
today we salute you, dr. dunston... a real american hero. you stepped up to be our fourth read teacher after one had a meltdown, the other was a succubus, and the next found out teaching 2 classes would stress out her pregnancy. you live all the way in athens, ga, but brave i-85 every day to come teach us pissed off 4th year elementary ed students. you taught us as much as you could in 3 weeks, and you are even allowing us to use a cheat sheet for the final! how nice, seeing how the word on the street is that your exam is going to be impossible even WITH the cheat sheet. so dr. dunston, crack open a nice cold bud light... and hope that none of your read 460 students pissed in it.
Yes. The teacher that was our "saving grace" better watch out and save her own ass. Well, I guess that isn't necessary, seeing that we can't really evaluate her because SHE HASN'T BEEN OUR TEACHER THE WHOLE TIME. I think they should just let us evaluate the entire School of Education... with one of our famous rubrics that we learned about... you know, it's so sad that they were able to turn a batch of decent, upstanding, moral, teachers-to-be into a bunch of highly intelligent, pissed off, homicidal young adults. I hope they are happy with themselves.
I'm not going to study a drop more tonight. But I do plan on indulging in a few more drops of this beverage... lol. It's a celebration. Tomorrow, I will take the last final of my undergraduate career. Wow. I'm so utterly excited. However, on January 8th, I have to take the Praxis II... not looking forward to that... a WHOLE DAY full of questions about teaching... I could cry right... but I'm too excited about being done with finals here at Clemson.
Oh well... 10:17 pm and nothing to do until 12 noon tomorrow... I think some TV and lounging is definitely in order... as well as some more of this delicous spirit...
today we salute you, dr. dunston... a real american hero. you stepped up to be our fourth read teacher after one had a meltdown, the other was a succubus, and the next found out teaching 2 classes would stress out her pregnancy. you live all the way in athens, ga, but brave i-85 every day to come teach us pissed off 4th year elementary ed students. you taught us as much as you could in 3 weeks, and you are even allowing us to use a cheat sheet for the final! how nice, seeing how the word on the street is that your exam is going to be impossible even WITH the cheat sheet. so dr. dunston, crack open a nice cold bud light... and hope that none of your read 460 students pissed in it.
Yes. The teacher that was our "saving grace" better watch out and save her own ass. Well, I guess that isn't necessary, seeing that we can't really evaluate her because SHE HASN'T BEEN OUR TEACHER THE WHOLE TIME. I think they should just let us evaluate the entire School of Education... with one of our famous rubrics that we learned about... you know, it's so sad that they were able to turn a batch of decent, upstanding, moral, teachers-to-be into a bunch of highly intelligent, pissed off, homicidal young adults. I hope they are happy with themselves.
I'm not going to study a drop more tonight. But I do plan on indulging in a few more drops of this beverage... lol. It's a celebration. Tomorrow, I will take the last final of my undergraduate career. Wow. I'm so utterly excited. However, on January 8th, I have to take the Praxis II... not looking forward to that... a WHOLE DAY full of questions about teaching... I could cry right... but I'm too excited about being done with finals here at Clemson.
Oh well... 10:17 pm and nothing to do until 12 noon tomorrow... I think some TV and lounging is definitely in order... as well as some more of this delicous spirit...
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
skeezas, part ii
Well, well, well... How the sure-of-themselves have fallen. How the skeezas have proven themselves skeeza-ish.
Remember all that bitching last Tuesday when my group made up the rubric for our presentation... I'll refresh your memory... 1 to 4 point... 1 being the worst, 4 being the best... 1 point if your presentation was 2 minutes or less, 4 if your presentation was 5 minutes or more... 5 minutes was too much for some people so the griped and complained...
AND THEN WHEN THEIR TURN CAME TO PRESENT ON TUESDAY, THOSE SAME SKEEZAS TOOK FIFTEEN F-ING MINUTES!
Skeezas.
As for Dr. Kaminskeeza, she's not so bad anymore... mainly because I don't have her anymore. MUAH HA HA HA HA! And she was ever so sachharine sweet to us on Tuesday... bringing us in donuts when she wasn't sure that we were even going to get 85% of the class to do her teacher evaluation. HA! That woman, bless her heart. Did she really think that the majority of the class WASN'T going to grill her ass? She got all ones and twos from me... a couple of threes, but on the whole, she didn't do well with me. I did, however, say that she smiled a lot, which made up for the times when all of us were really mad at her. Too bad she didn't bring us donuts and stuff like every class... I think the super-sweetness of the Krispy Kreme would have overshadowed her skeeza tendencies.
Anyway, two more exams to go. Is it okay that I don't want to do ANYTHING anymore? I got my student teaching assignment today, so all I can think of is doing that. I am going to be at Code in Mrs. Stephens' class where I wanted to be... I am SO excited. NO CLASS whatsoever. And I talked to Christy from camp today who teaches at Code now, and she said that I am really going to enjoy student teaching. I really hope so. It will be great to get in there and do something after sitting on my duff all Christmas break... eating ice and getting yelled at for it... MOTHER, I ATE A BIG CALZONE TONIGHT, SO I'M NOT JUST EATING ICE ANYMORE...
I would never call my mother a skeeza, but I have to admit her behavior on the phone on Sunday night was definitely skeeza-ish. I am sure that she will prove herself to have many more skeeza tendencies when I go home for break... I REALLY hope I get to go up to New Jersey to visit Betsy with the gang for New Years. Oh, mommy... please don't be a skeeza when it comes to letting me go up there...
...two more exams. I don't think I'm studying for the one on Thursday. Dr. Dunston (Read Teacher v4.0) is definitely not a skeeza... she is letting us have a cheat sheet with whatever we want on it. She obviously does not know my talent with small fonts. Watch me take my whole Read notebook into that exam on that sheet of paper...
Remember all that bitching last Tuesday when my group made up the rubric for our presentation... I'll refresh your memory... 1 to 4 point... 1 being the worst, 4 being the best... 1 point if your presentation was 2 minutes or less, 4 if your presentation was 5 minutes or more... 5 minutes was too much for some people so the griped and complained...
AND THEN WHEN THEIR TURN CAME TO PRESENT ON TUESDAY, THOSE SAME SKEEZAS TOOK FIFTEEN F-ING MINUTES!
Skeezas.
As for Dr. Kaminskeeza, she's not so bad anymore... mainly because I don't have her anymore. MUAH HA HA HA HA! And she was ever so sachharine sweet to us on Tuesday... bringing us in donuts when she wasn't sure that we were even going to get 85% of the class to do her teacher evaluation. HA! That woman, bless her heart. Did she really think that the majority of the class WASN'T going to grill her ass? She got all ones and twos from me... a couple of threes, but on the whole, she didn't do well with me. I did, however, say that she smiled a lot, which made up for the times when all of us were really mad at her. Too bad she didn't bring us donuts and stuff like every class... I think the super-sweetness of the Krispy Kreme would have overshadowed her skeeza tendencies.
Anyway, two more exams to go. Is it okay that I don't want to do ANYTHING anymore? I got my student teaching assignment today, so all I can think of is doing that. I am going to be at Code in Mrs. Stephens' class where I wanted to be... I am SO excited. NO CLASS whatsoever. And I talked to Christy from camp today who teaches at Code now, and she said that I am really going to enjoy student teaching. I really hope so. It will be great to get in there and do something after sitting on my duff all Christmas break... eating ice and getting yelled at for it... MOTHER, I ATE A BIG CALZONE TONIGHT, SO I'M NOT JUST EATING ICE ANYMORE...
I would never call my mother a skeeza, but I have to admit her behavior on the phone on Sunday night was definitely skeeza-ish. I am sure that she will prove herself to have many more skeeza tendencies when I go home for break... I REALLY hope I get to go up to New Jersey to visit Betsy with the gang for New Years. Oh, mommy... please don't be a skeeza when it comes to letting me go up there...
...two more exams. I don't think I'm studying for the one on Thursday. Dr. Dunston (Read Teacher v4.0) is definitely not a skeeza... she is letting us have a cheat sheet with whatever we want on it. She obviously does not know my talent with small fonts. Watch me take my whole Read notebook into that exam on that sheet of paper...
Sunday, December 05, 2004
ice, ice, baby
I believe I have talked about my mom in here before... and how utterly ridiculous she can be sometimes.
This entry is nothing but a reaction to a phone call I got this evening. First of all, lemme put this into perspective for you (hold on, I feel the need to go get a cup of ice water first)...
Okay. I'm back. Anyway. Whenever I get a call from my parents, whether it be from one of their cell phones or from my house, the ring is the "Kick" tone. If you have a Nokia phone, you know what it sounds like. It kinda sounds like the "You're In Trouble" ring. Yeah. So I'm eating dinner, when all of a sudden, I hear this "kick." It's my mom. She asks me about what's going on... why I didn't go to church today... and then...
"What are you eating?" she asks. I tell her it's just ice. Then she freaks out... "Do you eat ice a lot? Are you just doing it because you were drinking something and it is done now, or have you been doing this for a while?" What kind of answer do you give to a question like this?! Well, yeah, mom, you caught me... I've been illegally crunching ice, and I know that I am under age and should not do it until it's legal at 37, but I just have to have it... I'M ADDICTED! Well, I simply told her that I always do it. I like crunching ice. Then she goes, "Well, two things: I heard that it's not good for your teeth, and I also heard if you crush ice a lot it means something." This is coming from a woman who stopped taking us to the dentist because we never had cavities and because the secretary at the dentist's office saw my dad at the mall and told him that we had a bill we needed to pay... and she is concerned about my teeth? I doubt it, highly. She is concerned I have the "something" that crushing ice "means..."
Well, yes, mommy... IT MEANS THAT I LIKE CRUNCHING ICE!
I really hate the losers who sit there in their think tanks and come up with reasons why people do little quirky things. People have their little habits because they satisfiy their need to do them. Just because someone wears a trucker hat, it doesn't mean that they are trying to attract a certain type of individual. Just because a person wears black doesn't mean they are contemplating death (my mother subscribed to both of these theories until I set her straight).
Just another thing to look forward to when I go home for a month...
This entry is nothing but a reaction to a phone call I got this evening. First of all, lemme put this into perspective for you (hold on, I feel the need to go get a cup of ice water first)...
Okay. I'm back. Anyway. Whenever I get a call from my parents, whether it be from one of their cell phones or from my house, the ring is the "Kick" tone. If you have a Nokia phone, you know what it sounds like. It kinda sounds like the "You're In Trouble" ring. Yeah. So I'm eating dinner, when all of a sudden, I hear this "kick." It's my mom. She asks me about what's going on... why I didn't go to church today... and then...
>>CRUNCH!<<
"What are you eating?" she asks. I tell her it's just ice. Then she freaks out... "Do you eat ice a lot? Are you just doing it because you were drinking something and it is done now, or have you been doing this for a while?" What kind of answer do you give to a question like this?! Well, yeah, mom, you caught me... I've been illegally crunching ice, and I know that I am under age and should not do it until it's legal at 37, but I just have to have it... I'M ADDICTED! Well, I simply told her that I always do it. I like crunching ice. Then she goes, "Well, two things: I heard that it's not good for your teeth, and I also heard if you crush ice a lot it means something." This is coming from a woman who stopped taking us to the dentist because we never had cavities and because the secretary at the dentist's office saw my dad at the mall and told him that we had a bill we needed to pay... and she is concerned about my teeth? I doubt it, highly. She is concerned I have the "something" that crushing ice "means..."
Well, yes, mommy... IT MEANS THAT I LIKE CRUNCHING ICE!
I really hate the losers who sit there in their think tanks and come up with reasons why people do little quirky things. People have their little habits because they satisfiy their need to do them. Just because someone wears a trucker hat, it doesn't mean that they are trying to attract a certain type of individual. Just because a person wears black doesn't mean they are contemplating death (my mother subscribed to both of these theories until I set her straight).
Just another thing to look forward to when I go home for a month...
a nasty dream
I said these words to my roommates this morning, and I believe they thought I was going to talk about a wet dream. If that is what you are in search of, go here. But if not, stay a while and listen to this disturbing and disgusting dream that I had last night.
First of all, I must say that if you look at my profile, you will see that I am a member of a blog entitled My Dreams. I was invited to join by Sammie... Tragically, Sammie has not kept up with it. I myself only wrote one entry in it. So, I'm not going to put this dream in there (however, the dream that I put in there DID come true... Clemson DZ's... Candie Mallory and Jourdan Davis are the only acceptable ones). Anyway...
So, I believe that it started in the parking lot of my high school... which is exactly 1 mile away from my house. I really needed to use the bathroom. But instead of going back into the school, I just decide to shoot it home as fast as I can. Well, I couldn't make it. So, I stopped at the Amoco at the light right up from my house. Normally, this Amoco station, which is infamous for outrageous gas prices, is just a puny little regular Spinx gas station. But in this dream, the Amoco had turned into a big ol' travel stop... like one of those Flying J places on the side of I-85. Anyway, I go in, and there are tons of people around. This is also weird because the gas station is in the middle of suburbia. It's about 5 miles to the highway, and there is nothing around but churches, schools, grocery stores, and hundreds of neighborhoods. Well, among the travelers stopped at the Super-Amoco is none other than Daniel Crout... a freshman tuba player in the band (who just got a bid to KKPsi--CONGRATS!). I don't have time to talk to him though, because not only do I need to use the bathroom terribly, but I am hungry and extremely thirsty. So, I grab a can of Coke and pop it open to quench my thirst before I use the bathroom... When I walk up to the bathroom, I notice that there are many, but they are all pretty crowded. I wait my turn HOPING that the bathroom that opens up when it is my turn is clean and decent. Well, when the little boy comes out ogf the bathroom, it's my turn. I didn't like the thought of leaving my Coke outside of the bathroom in the midst of all the travelers... I was afraid someone might steal it or put something in it. But I didn't want to take it into the bathroom... that just seemed... nasty. Well, I did it anyway...
That bathroom... was the sickest, nastiest, most grotesque thing I have ever dreamed in my life. The floor was dirty, and back behind the toilet against the wall there was nasty brown grimy grungy stinky stuff. The toilet was atrocious, there was bodily fluid everywhere, and it was just wet with nastiness. The bathroom was really just a stall, but it had a rusty brown paper towel dispenser on the right wall when you walked in. The left wall of the bathroom/stall wasn't a wall at all... it was nothing more than a board. Kinda like it was meant to be a stall. But this board was well above waist level, so the person on the other side could see all your junk.
Well, I held my breath as I began to use the bathroom because it stank so bad. Well, you know how sometimes you go into a stinky place and you can hold your nose, but your mouth is still open, but you don't even want to hold your mouth open because the air is so nasty tasting and you don't want to digest any of the bacteria floating around in the air? Well, that's how I felt. So, I held my nose and shut my mouth and tried to pee as fast as I could. Then, I realized that in the "stall" next to mine, there was a man with a little boy. I think the little boy was not old enough to go to the bathroom by himself, so his dad was helping him. Remember how I said there was a board that did not go down very far? Well, in this space between the board and the floor, the little boy managed to miss the toilet and hit me. I gasped at the nastiness that was occurring, which made me smell the stench of the room as well as open my mouth, so I quickly zipped up and retreated from the disgusting stall with my Coke.
But once I got out, I realized there was no use of the Coke anymore... It was contaminated with whatever was in that bathroom. So I threw it away and eyed a bag of pizza flavored Doritos that I saw before I went to the bathroom... Then I started to gag. I didn't want those Doritos anymore. I had lost my appetite and was now getting sick to my stomach.
I walked away from the food aisles and towards the door where Daniel was sitting. I was still gagging profusely when he chuckled and said, "You went into that bathroom, didn't you?" I nodded and continued to gag. Then, nauseated, I walked to my car to go home... Somewhere between getting into the car and driving home, I woke up.
It was SO ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING. What does it all mean?
First of all, I must say that if you look at my profile, you will see that I am a member of a blog entitled My Dreams. I was invited to join by Sammie... Tragically, Sammie has not kept up with it. I myself only wrote one entry in it. So, I'm not going to put this dream in there (however, the dream that I put in there DID come true... Clemson DZ's... Candie Mallory and Jourdan Davis are the only acceptable ones). Anyway...
So, I believe that it started in the parking lot of my high school... which is exactly 1 mile away from my house. I really needed to use the bathroom. But instead of going back into the school, I just decide to shoot it home as fast as I can. Well, I couldn't make it. So, I stopped at the Amoco at the light right up from my house. Normally, this Amoco station, which is infamous for outrageous gas prices, is just a puny little regular Spinx gas station. But in this dream, the Amoco had turned into a big ol' travel stop... like one of those Flying J places on the side of I-85. Anyway, I go in, and there are tons of people around. This is also weird because the gas station is in the middle of suburbia. It's about 5 miles to the highway, and there is nothing around but churches, schools, grocery stores, and hundreds of neighborhoods. Well, among the travelers stopped at the Super-Amoco is none other than Daniel Crout... a freshman tuba player in the band (who just got a bid to KKPsi--CONGRATS!). I don't have time to talk to him though, because not only do I need to use the bathroom terribly, but I am hungry and extremely thirsty. So, I grab a can of Coke and pop it open to quench my thirst before I use the bathroom... When I walk up to the bathroom, I notice that there are many, but they are all pretty crowded. I wait my turn HOPING that the bathroom that opens up when it is my turn is clean and decent. Well, when the little boy comes out ogf the bathroom, it's my turn. I didn't like the thought of leaving my Coke outside of the bathroom in the midst of all the travelers... I was afraid someone might steal it or put something in it. But I didn't want to take it into the bathroom... that just seemed... nasty. Well, I did it anyway...
That bathroom... was the sickest, nastiest, most grotesque thing I have ever dreamed in my life. The floor was dirty, and back behind the toilet against the wall there was nasty brown grimy grungy stinky stuff. The toilet was atrocious, there was bodily fluid everywhere, and it was just wet with nastiness. The bathroom was really just a stall, but it had a rusty brown paper towel dispenser on the right wall when you walked in. The left wall of the bathroom/stall wasn't a wall at all... it was nothing more than a board. Kinda like it was meant to be a stall. But this board was well above waist level, so the person on the other side could see all your junk.
Well, I held my breath as I began to use the bathroom because it stank so bad. Well, you know how sometimes you go into a stinky place and you can hold your nose, but your mouth is still open, but you don't even want to hold your mouth open because the air is so nasty tasting and you don't want to digest any of the bacteria floating around in the air? Well, that's how I felt. So, I held my nose and shut my mouth and tried to pee as fast as I could. Then, I realized that in the "stall" next to mine, there was a man with a little boy. I think the little boy was not old enough to go to the bathroom by himself, so his dad was helping him. Remember how I said there was a board that did not go down very far? Well, in this space between the board and the floor, the little boy managed to miss the toilet and hit me. I gasped at the nastiness that was occurring, which made me smell the stench of the room as well as open my mouth, so I quickly zipped up and retreated from the disgusting stall with my Coke.
But once I got out, I realized there was no use of the Coke anymore... It was contaminated with whatever was in that bathroom. So I threw it away and eyed a bag of pizza flavored Doritos that I saw before I went to the bathroom... Then I started to gag. I didn't want those Doritos anymore. I had lost my appetite and was now getting sick to my stomach.
I walked away from the food aisles and towards the door where Daniel was sitting. I was still gagging profusely when he chuckled and said, "You went into that bathroom, didn't you?" I nodded and continued to gag. Then, nauseated, I walked to my car to go home... Somewhere between getting into the car and driving home, I woke up.
It was SO ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING. What does it all mean?
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
"my heart is racing, i want to scream"
-Little Pill, Encaustic
I'm listening to them now. I love them. I was introduced to them by my friend Will Sloop. It turns out I liberated it from Patrick's car, who liberated it from Will. I took it to Beaufort over Thanksgiving break and wore the CD out. It's good.
Anyway, the line from that song really describes what's going on in the Kingdom of Congruence. King Congruence broke a Ham Rule last night. Yeah... like right after I wrote about how good I had been and how I hadn't broken any in a while.
I was at TD's with some of the Block 3 divas and some of my Gamma Sig sorors... Talk about the opposite of a sausage party (I think back freshman year, we called instances like so "biscuit parties")! Anyway, this individual from a class a while ago came up. I do believe that what was said was a product of my buddy, Bud... you know him, right? Yeah, Bud Light. Anyway, good ol' Bud made me break the Ham Rule. I actually had a crush on this person... back a while ago. Well it turns out that this person broke up with their boyfriend (I know this sounds SO absolutely terrible). My eyes lit up... not really because I was like, "Now I have a chance." I actually, didn't even realize that there was a boyfriend in the first place when I first started liking this person. I found out late last year. Anyway, some of the B3 divas were telling me that I should go for it... hrmph. Right. I may have self-proclaimed a crush, but I will not fall. Remember? I think I talked about that in one of my recent entries. So, a big no for that. As for the aforementioned individual... who knows. They are supposed to be downtown tomorrow night...
This entry was meant to be a serious one... so I don't think that I'll talk about everything that happened last night. I want the entry to be about my situation and my breaking of a Ham Rule. But I will say that I saw my friend Lindsay Kelly from high school and she really just warmed my heart. It was so good to see her... It was actually a testimony to me that even though time passes and things and people change, sometimes the change is for the better... I'm so proud of her and the woman she's become.
As for me and this road to becoming a successful man... it sure as Hell is bumpy...
I'm listening to them now. I love them. I was introduced to them by my friend Will Sloop. It turns out I liberated it from Patrick's car, who liberated it from Will. I took it to Beaufort over Thanksgiving break and wore the CD out. It's good.
Anyway, the line from that song really describes what's going on in the Kingdom of Congruence. King Congruence broke a Ham Rule last night. Yeah... like right after I wrote about how good I had been and how I hadn't broken any in a while.
I was at TD's with some of the Block 3 divas and some of my Gamma Sig sorors... Talk about the opposite of a sausage party (I think back freshman year, we called instances like so "biscuit parties")! Anyway, this individual from a class a while ago came up. I do believe that what was said was a product of my buddy, Bud... you know him, right? Yeah, Bud Light. Anyway, good ol' Bud made me break the Ham Rule. I actually had a crush on this person... back a while ago. Well it turns out that this person broke up with their boyfriend (I know this sounds SO absolutely terrible). My eyes lit up... not really because I was like, "Now I have a chance." I actually, didn't even realize that there was a boyfriend in the first place when I first started liking this person. I found out late last year. Anyway, some of the B3 divas were telling me that I should go for it... hrmph. Right. I may have self-proclaimed a crush, but I will not fall. Remember? I think I talked about that in one of my recent entries. So, a big no for that. As for the aforementioned individual... who knows. They are supposed to be downtown tomorrow night...
This entry was meant to be a serious one... so I don't think that I'll talk about everything that happened last night. I want the entry to be about my situation and my breaking of a Ham Rule. But I will say that I saw my friend Lindsay Kelly from high school and she really just warmed my heart. It was so good to see her... It was actually a testimony to me that even though time passes and things and people change, sometimes the change is for the better... I'm so proud of her and the woman she's become.
As for me and this road to becoming a successful man... it sure as Hell is bumpy...
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
skeezas
My Language Arts Methods prof, Rebecca Kaminski is a skeeza... bless her heart. A skeeza (to me) is someone who acts like they've got it all together, but in reality, they suck; they are rude, inconsiderate, and two faced. Dr. Kaminski can be nice... like, you'd think she was batting for your team... until she pulls some ish like a huge project the week before exams. Yes. That's what that ol' SKEEZA did to us... after she gave us a pizza party and got people to sell us discounted books (the discounted books were of no real importance to me though). It's okay, Dr. K... you shall be in dumb pe0ple for some idiocracy that you said today AS WELL as earlier in the semester.
The whole reason I am writing about this skeeza is not because of the assignment she gave us though... I am wondering if I am becoming a SKEEZA!? Today in class we got to make up our own rubric for this BS project. Now, I am not any more excited about it than anyone else, but I don't see what the point is in making it so ridiculously easy to get an A. My group was in charge of making the rubric up for presentation... I did most of the work. So what Dr. K asked if time should be figured into the rubric, I said, for the lowest grade, 2 minutes and under, and for the highest grade, at least 5 minutes... that is not asking a lot. But if you had been in the class, you would have thought WAY differently. People were spazzin' out throwin' stuff and cursin' (not really, but I'm just trying to add to the atmosphere)! Dr. Kaminski WANTED 10 minute presentations... I think 5 minutes is a good compromise personally.
But then I got to thinking... am I becoming an ol' skeeza in my old age? I mean, Language Arts Methods today was my second to last class of my undergraduate career ever... Am I turning into an old fashioned fogie?
Even if I do, I will NOT EVER stoop to this level...
The whole reason I am writing about this skeeza is not because of the assignment she gave us though... I am wondering if I am becoming a SKEEZA!? Today in class we got to make up our own rubric for this BS project. Now, I am not any more excited about it than anyone else, but I don't see what the point is in making it so ridiculously easy to get an A. My group was in charge of making the rubric up for presentation... I did most of the work. So what Dr. K asked if time should be figured into the rubric, I said, for the lowest grade, 2 minutes and under, and for the highest grade, at least 5 minutes... that is not asking a lot. But if you had been in the class, you would have thought WAY differently. People were spazzin' out throwin' stuff and cursin' (not really, but I'm just trying to add to the atmosphere)! Dr. Kaminski WANTED 10 minute presentations... I think 5 minutes is a good compromise personally.
But then I got to thinking... am I becoming an ol' skeeza in my old age? I mean, Language Arts Methods today was my second to last class of my undergraduate career ever... Am I turning into an old fashioned fogie?
Even if I do, I will NOT EVER stoop to this level...
Monday, November 29, 2004
i feel like writing...
Poor blog. What have you become?! Just a couple hundred pages sitting there in cyber space longing for the days when I had a chance to actually write in you... I'm so sorry. The past few entries, I have said over and over again how I am going to start writing more. Well, that was during the worse time of my life: THE BLOCK. I'm so glad it's over. I really do miss Mrs. Hatton's class though. It was a good learning experience. I am really looking forward to student teaching in a better situation though.
Anyway, since the block is over, I only have 2 classes tomorrow and 1 on Thursday. So Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are going to be play days. I am so excited... the sad fact, however, is that I probably won't do a damn thing any of these days. I said I was going to go to Athens on Wednesday for a "college visit." I dunno if that will really happen though. It would be fun, but I really need to figure out logistics of that if I'm gonna do it.
Hell... I need to figure out logistics for pretty much everything about life after May 13. I'm so ready to graduate... but I don't really know if I'm ready to get up out of Clemson. ::sigh:: Lets see. The main reason that I would want to stay here at Clemson is to be a grad assistant with the band, and because I have friends here already. I don't really know if those are valid enough reasons though. I am really leaning towards USC actually. I know, it's really weird--my university's rival... Something about it seems very appealing though. I like how it is still in state. I like how they have a good band program. I like the fact that it is in a metropolitian area (who am I kidding? It's just Columbia, but they call it "da Met"). So yay for USC. Then there's UGA. It would also be completely new to me... however, not as new as USC would be. I hav visited there lots. I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there. It would be fun to go to school with them. They have a KILLER band program there. They also have an incredible school of education. Quite frankly, I am concerned that I may not even get in there. That is the only school that I didn't get into when I applied for undergrad (even though, it was my guidance counselors fault... grrr).
By the way, that is what I am going to do now. I decided that Ed Psych was not going to be worth anything once I got out of school. I actually had to do some researching, talking to people... and I decided that it isn't what I want. An Elementary School Guidance Counselor sounds better to me. I haven't talked to any guidance counselors who don't enjoy it. I'm really looking forward to it.
Anyway, like the title of this entry says... I feel like writing. Not only do I feel like writing in this heavily neglected blog, but I feel like starting new stuff too... and picking up where I left off in another neglected creation of mine. POOR, POOR DELIGHTFUL! My dear sweet Georgia peach. I made her and her friends up this summer when I had nothing better to do. I guess the fact that I left readers at a cliff hanger on Buckhead State Bid Day shows that I found things that were better to do... WRONG. I just found things that were BITCHES to do... school work. Anyway, break starts soon. And I get a lot of writing done on break. I plan on picking Delightful back up... somehow. I also started a novel that is based on my family back in Dale. It's called Family Friendly. It should be good... based on a true story with elements of fiction. My friend Mandy from high school is going to be writing something with me as well. It's called Any Suggestions? I actually got the name from her when she was asking me what I thought we should name it. She said, "Any suggestions?" and bam. There it was. It's going to be a series of letters written back and forth between to high school friends that are apart from each other at college. I'm really excited about it.
So, I have my work cut out for me. As for dumb pe0ple and Short Bus Stories, I think those are pretty dormant for the time being. Those are for random and sporadic bursts of writing... not really things meant to be kept up.
ANYWAY... on to the juice of my ever so fabulous blogs (j/k... I have been brought back down to earth now that I haven't had time to keep it up... although I really did love my rendition of "Overnight Celebrity" a few entries back). I used the r-word earlier in this entry...
I don't think I'm going to get married. I think I'll end up one of those strangely happy highly successful and fashionable single people. It has it's perks. No one to answer to but myself... I'll be able to come and go when I want... I won't have to fight for the remote control... and I will be able to decorate my bathroom in Spongebob Squarepants if I want to. Just kidding. Anyway, I really don't know how I feel about this... it's not really a disappointed feeling, or even a feeling of liberation. This is gonna bug me until I really get to that point. ::sigh:: So May 13, 2005, you can take your time getting here...
Anyway, since the block is over, I only have 2 classes tomorrow and 1 on Thursday. So Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are going to be play days. I am so excited... the sad fact, however, is that I probably won't do a damn thing any of these days. I said I was going to go to Athens on Wednesday for a "college visit." I dunno if that will really happen though. It would be fun, but I really need to figure out logistics of that if I'm gonna do it.
Hell... I need to figure out logistics for pretty much everything about life after May 13. I'm so ready to graduate... but I don't really know if I'm ready to get up out of Clemson. ::sigh:: Lets see. The main reason that I would want to stay here at Clemson is to be a grad assistant with the band, and because I have friends here already. I don't really know if those are valid enough reasons though. I am really leaning towards USC actually. I know, it's really weird--my university's rival... Something about it seems very appealing though. I like how it is still in state. I like how they have a good band program. I like the fact that it is in a metropolitian area (who am I kidding? It's just Columbia, but they call it "da Met"). So yay for USC. Then there's UGA. It would also be completely new to me... however, not as new as USC would be. I hav visited there lots. I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there. It would be fun to go to school with them. They have a KILLER band program there. They also have an incredible school of education. Quite frankly, I am concerned that I may not even get in there. That is the only school that I didn't get into when I applied for undergrad (even though, it was my guidance counselors fault... grrr).
By the way, that is what I am going to do now. I decided that Ed Psych was not going to be worth anything once I got out of school. I actually had to do some researching, talking to people... and I decided that it isn't what I want. An Elementary School Guidance Counselor sounds better to me. I haven't talked to any guidance counselors who don't enjoy it. I'm really looking forward to it.
Anyway, like the title of this entry says... I feel like writing. Not only do I feel like writing in this heavily neglected blog, but I feel like starting new stuff too... and picking up where I left off in another neglected creation of mine. POOR, POOR DELIGHTFUL! My dear sweet Georgia peach. I made her and her friends up this summer when I had nothing better to do. I guess the fact that I left readers at a cliff hanger on Buckhead State Bid Day shows that I found things that were better to do... WRONG. I just found things that were BITCHES to do... school work. Anyway, break starts soon. And I get a lot of writing done on break. I plan on picking Delightful back up... somehow. I also started a novel that is based on my family back in Dale. It's called Family Friendly. It should be good... based on a true story with elements of fiction. My friend Mandy from high school is going to be writing something with me as well. It's called Any Suggestions? I actually got the name from her when she was asking me what I thought we should name it. She said, "Any suggestions?" and bam. There it was. It's going to be a series of letters written back and forth between to high school friends that are apart from each other at college. I'm really excited about it.
So, I have my work cut out for me. As for dumb pe0ple and Short Bus Stories, I think those are pretty dormant for the time being. Those are for random and sporadic bursts of writing... not really things meant to be kept up.
ANYWAY... on to the juice of my ever so fabulous blogs (j/k... I have been brought back down to earth now that I haven't had time to keep it up... although I really did love my rendition of "Overnight Celebrity" a few entries back). I used the r-word earlier in this entry...
I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there.
There is a Ham Rule against using that word. Well, you know, I have kept my Ham Rules pretty well, so I'm not worried about breaking it. Now that I look at it, I think that it was a pretty stupid rule anyway. And honestly, following the Ham Rules has gotten me nowhere. I mean, I'm the same as I was when I made them up. I guess I have learned how to deal with my lack of a RELATIONSHIP over the past 4 years. But I haven't gotten any closer to one. Now that I am about to graduate and am getting closer to being out there on my own, I kinda have mixed feelings. I will be the same type of person that my Aunt Irene is... where she has tons of friends who are married and tons of friends and family who keep asking her when she is going to get married. Or, I could be like those cool single people who seem to be the main characters on prime time sitcoms... highly successful and stylish living in my small but sheik Pottery Barn decorated upper class townhome. I dunno. Everywhere I turn boyfriends and girlfriends are turning into fiancees. I guess that is what happens in the early 20s. And in the mid 20s, those fiancees are going to turn into husbands and wives. Dang. I am going to be highly delayed... the boyfriend/girlfriend stage was back at like 17-19. I haven't even reached that stage yet. I guess I'll be married by the time I'm 35... if even then.
I don't think I'm going to get married. I think I'll end up one of those strangely happy highly successful and fashionable single people. It has it's perks. No one to answer to but myself... I'll be able to come and go when I want... I won't have to fight for the remote control... and I will be able to decorate my bathroom in Spongebob Squarepants if I want to. Just kidding. Anyway, I really don't know how I feel about this... it's not really a disappointed feeling, or even a feeling of liberation. This is gonna bug me until I really get to that point. ::sigh:: So May 13, 2005, you can take your time getting here...
Monday, November 15, 2004
ugh.
I feel so disgustingly Bridget Jones right now. Sitting here journaling with my hot chicken noodle soup in a mug, not a bowl (this is so weird). My throat hurts. It's hurt for a while actually. It usually happens when the seasons change. Hopefully I'll be over it soon though.
Anyway, Bridget Jones. I was so Bridget Jones all day. I hung out all by myself, except for when I went home. Yeah, I went back to G-vegas to get some books I forgot over fall break. I saw everyone but my dad, so I guess it was nice.
The big deal about this whole trip to Greenville was going downtown and stopping at Falls Park. There used to be a road bridge that went over the falls, but they have since turned it into a suspended walking bridge. It was one of the prettiest things I had ever seen. My practicum teacher, Mrs. Hatton had mentioned it to me several times, so I figured I had nothing better to do, so I stopped by to look.
I walked out there with my discman... Clay Aiken was in the CD player. The song was Solitaire. How absolutely depressing. I mean, a beautiful Sunday afternoon in this amazing park listening to a song about a lonely man. Hmm... Yes. The story of my life.
I left utterly depressed and defeated. I mean, I am and will probably forever remain defeated...
A heart that cared
That went unshared
Until it died in his silence...
Oh, Clay Aiken, how you do what you do...
I'm ready to find some relief from this hopelessness. No, not necessarily someone to date... just the ability to be okay with being alone... the ability to walk amongst couples without getting all droopy faced...
Oh yeah, and the ability to watch chick flicks and not spazz out at the super sweet part (point in case, the part in "The Girl Next Door" when Matthew goes up and kisses Danielle for the first time and This Year's Love starts playing).
Just let me be apathetic...
Anyway, Bridget Jones. I was so Bridget Jones all day. I hung out all by myself, except for when I went home. Yeah, I went back to G-vegas to get some books I forgot over fall break. I saw everyone but my dad, so I guess it was nice.
The big deal about this whole trip to Greenville was going downtown and stopping at Falls Park. There used to be a road bridge that went over the falls, but they have since turned it into a suspended walking bridge. It was one of the prettiest things I had ever seen. My practicum teacher, Mrs. Hatton had mentioned it to me several times, so I figured I had nothing better to do, so I stopped by to look.
I walked out there with my discman... Clay Aiken was in the CD player. The song was Solitaire. How absolutely depressing. I mean, a beautiful Sunday afternoon in this amazing park listening to a song about a lonely man. Hmm... Yes. The story of my life.
I left utterly depressed and defeated. I mean, I am and will probably forever remain defeated...
A heart that cared
That went unshared
Until it died in his silence...
Oh, Clay Aiken, how you do what you do...
I'm ready to find some relief from this hopelessness. No, not necessarily someone to date... just the ability to be okay with being alone... the ability to walk amongst couples without getting all droopy faced...
Oh yeah, and the ability to watch chick flicks and not spazz out at the super sweet part (point in case, the part in "The Girl Next Door" when Matthew goes up and kisses Danielle for the first time and This Year's Love starts playing).
Just let me be apathetic...
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
fucked up fall break
1. First of all, the title of this entry is not due to the fact that I was wasted over fall break. I was quite sober, thankyouverymuch.
2. I titled it for 2 reasons.
(a) The alliteration (you like that, don't you)
(b) Something really was fucked up in our family computer at home, and it would not let me blog!
I had mucho stuff to write about too... Now, I am having a brain fart, and I can't think of anything I wanted to say. I think the brain fart is due to the fact that all brain power in the universe is being used to count the ballots for president. I have to admit... it's a big deal. As much as I hate politics, this is an exciting day. It was my very first presidential election. I voted in the gubernatorial election in 2000, and I was highly disappointed. I voted straight ticket Democrat... I didn't do that this time because first of all, while it would have been very fast, I had already waited 45 minutes in line anyway; secondly, Fletcher Anderson made a dumb ass comment in "The State" paper talking about how it was pretty much a given that minorities vote Democrat; and thirdly, the last time I did that, every Democrat lost... haha.
So today, I voted for Kerry... for Inez, and also for the mini bottles. My biggest concern is for the mini bottles. They are cool! And they make South Carolina special! We are the weirdos that have little colorful bottles lining the shelves of our bars and the weirdos that get more drunk than people in other states. LET THE MINI BOTTLE LIVE ON!
Anyway, enough of that election mumbo jumbo. Back to things on a smaller scale... oh that's right... I CAN'T REMEMBER ANY OF THEM BECAUSE MY COMPUTER AT HOME WOULDN'T LET ME TYPE ANYTHING!!!
But I do remember one thing... plans after college... this is so serious. What to do? Well, the choice was work, or go to grad school. My main concern was if I did work, I did not want to live at home. I'm ready to be on my own. Well, I found out this weekend that my parents want me to go straight to grad school too. I was kind of shocked 'cause I thought that they were gonna want me home as soon as I got done with college. That would suck so bad though. I mean, that is like a HUGE fear for me... I have been having visions of it all... It reminds me of summer camp. I go to summer camp for an extended amount of time, and then it's over... all the fun, friends, and freedom (once again, sweet alliteration). Moving back to "Grr" would be like returning home after a 4 year stay at summer camp. DAMN! It's been 4 years?! Where did it all go? Lordamercy...
That leads me to my final thought of this election evening (alliteration, part III): I am a senior in college. There is so much petty bullshit that is around me. I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of allowing myself to let people piss me off... you see that... I'M taking responsibility for it. It's no one's fault but mine. People can do things all they want, but I have realized that you have to be responsible for your feelings and attitude. No one can make you feel any sort of way. Someone can push you, spit on you, cuss you out, make fun of you, throw things at you, run over you with a CAT bus, but in the end, your response is up to you... you can't go and say, "(s)he made me do it." There are always 2 options to everything... you can retaliate negatively, or you can just go on about your merry way. Starting now, I'm going on my merry way. People can say what they want... and I'll just go on pretending like they wasted their breath and energy getting pissed off at me, 'cause I'm not going to let stupid stuff bother me... and what makes me really excited about this is, I know I can do this... remember the Hamilton that was so passive and non-confrontational... oh, those days are over... thanks to experiences from this past spring.
The goal is to become independent. Twenty-one is too old to worry about what other people think. In the words of Dr. Dre...
Fuck y'all
All of y'all
If y'all don't like me,
Blow me...
2. I titled it for 2 reasons.
(a) The alliteration (you like that, don't you)
(b) Something really was fucked up in our family computer at home, and it would not let me blog!
I had mucho stuff to write about too... Now, I am having a brain fart, and I can't think of anything I wanted to say. I think the brain fart is due to the fact that all brain power in the universe is being used to count the ballots for president. I have to admit... it's a big deal. As much as I hate politics, this is an exciting day. It was my very first presidential election. I voted in the gubernatorial election in 2000, and I was highly disappointed. I voted straight ticket Democrat... I didn't do that this time because first of all, while it would have been very fast, I had already waited 45 minutes in line anyway; secondly, Fletcher Anderson made a dumb ass comment in "The State" paper talking about how it was pretty much a given that minorities vote Democrat; and thirdly, the last time I did that, every Democrat lost... haha.
So today, I voted for Kerry... for Inez, and also for the mini bottles. My biggest concern is for the mini bottles. They are cool! And they make South Carolina special! We are the weirdos that have little colorful bottles lining the shelves of our bars and the weirdos that get more drunk than people in other states. LET THE MINI BOTTLE LIVE ON!
Anyway, enough of that election mumbo jumbo. Back to things on a smaller scale... oh that's right... I CAN'T REMEMBER ANY OF THEM BECAUSE MY COMPUTER AT HOME WOULDN'T LET ME TYPE ANYTHING!!!
But I do remember one thing... plans after college... this is so serious. What to do? Well, the choice was work, or go to grad school. My main concern was if I did work, I did not want to live at home. I'm ready to be on my own. Well, I found out this weekend that my parents want me to go straight to grad school too. I was kind of shocked 'cause I thought that they were gonna want me home as soon as I got done with college. That would suck so bad though. I mean, that is like a HUGE fear for me... I have been having visions of it all... It reminds me of summer camp. I go to summer camp for an extended amount of time, and then it's over... all the fun, friends, and freedom (once again, sweet alliteration). Moving back to "Grr" would be like returning home after a 4 year stay at summer camp. DAMN! It's been 4 years?! Where did it all go? Lordamercy...
That leads me to my final thought of this election evening (alliteration, part III): I am a senior in college. There is so much petty bullshit that is around me. I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of allowing myself to let people piss me off... you see that... I'M taking responsibility for it. It's no one's fault but mine. People can do things all they want, but I have realized that you have to be responsible for your feelings and attitude. No one can make you feel any sort of way. Someone can push you, spit on you, cuss you out, make fun of you, throw things at you, run over you with a CAT bus, but in the end, your response is up to you... you can't go and say, "(s)he made me do it." There are always 2 options to everything... you can retaliate negatively, or you can just go on about your merry way. Starting now, I'm going on my merry way. People can say what they want... and I'll just go on pretending like they wasted their breath and energy getting pissed off at me, 'cause I'm not going to let stupid stuff bother me... and what makes me really excited about this is, I know I can do this... remember the Hamilton that was so passive and non-confrontational... oh, those days are over... thanks to experiences from this past spring.
The goal is to become independent. Twenty-one is too old to worry about what other people think. In the words of Dr. Dre...
Fuck y'all
All of y'all
If y'all don't like me,
Blow me...
*Please pardon the persistent use of pungent profanity in this portion of my personal thoughts.*
(Alliteration, Part IV, baby... what...)
(Alliteration, Part IV, baby... what...)
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
i have been so tragic...
CORRECTION. SCHOOL has been so tragic... and the reason why I haven't written in forever. I am so sorry. Right after I spat all that game talkin' about how awesome my blog was, I jut leave it out there to wilt away. So right now, I am lacking in the cool points. Hopefully, I can get back up there.
Seriously though, school has been kicking my tail. No one better ever talk about Elementary Ed. being an easy major. I swear I will maim them in a way that it won't grow back... bitches. On top of that, they treat us like scum.
Lemme tell you about READ TEACHER NUMBER 4... First there was Asher. A cool bitch. Seriously. Then there was Alice, whom we like to refer to as, "The Cop." After that, there was Whitaker, our Social Studies methods teacher. Bless her heart. After Ellen, Krista and I went into the head of the School of Ed's office and bitched about The Cop, Whitaker so graciously took on our Read class. Well, that lasted for a week. Then she found out she was pregnant... then she found out she was pregnant with twins.... well, who knows the rest... All we know is that she needs to stay in bed for her pregnancy... so, tomorrow will be our first day with Dr. Dunston. I've heard lots about this woman, but the question is... WILL SHE BE OUR FINAL READ TEACHER? Probably not. She'll probably trip down the stairs in Tillman, break her pinky, and we'll have to get someone else. Frankly, this Read class is now a joke to me. Four professors, nothing learned. I better get an A... either that or a FULL REFUND for those hours.
Besides getting treated like crap over in Tillman, I was treated like crap a week or so ago in Death Valley. Band hit an all time low when I was conducting Captain and the drumline took off with the rest of the band and left me swimming toward them "with all my might." On top of being made look like a fool, Dr. Spede grabbed my ankle. THAT was the worse part. I swear, if the finger of God was not on me, he would have had my Showstopper in his eye. Thankfully, things seem to be a lot better in that area... And strangely enough, I'm ready for band to be over, but I know I'm gonna miss it ridiculously. Let's not talk about that though. I thought about it today and got a little misty-eyed.
Everything else is cool... It's still just little old lonely me, but I'm cool with it. There are some people who are showing me that companionship is not all that... People are just way to serious. I mean, really. This is college. So yeah, lets have fun, but lets also put some of the petty stuff behind us... which is why I need to grill this beef I have with a particular f*cker. It's the grown up thing to do... whether I'm over everything or not...
Seriously though, school has been kicking my tail. No one better ever talk about Elementary Ed. being an easy major. I swear I will maim them in a way that it won't grow back... bitches. On top of that, they treat us like scum.
Lemme tell you about READ TEACHER NUMBER 4... First there was Asher. A cool bitch. Seriously. Then there was Alice, whom we like to refer to as, "The Cop." After that, there was Whitaker, our Social Studies methods teacher. Bless her heart. After Ellen, Krista and I went into the head of the School of Ed's office and bitched about The Cop, Whitaker so graciously took on our Read class. Well, that lasted for a week. Then she found out she was pregnant... then she found out she was pregnant with twins.... well, who knows the rest... All we know is that she needs to stay in bed for her pregnancy... so, tomorrow will be our first day with Dr. Dunston. I've heard lots about this woman, but the question is... WILL SHE BE OUR FINAL READ TEACHER? Probably not. She'll probably trip down the stairs in Tillman, break her pinky, and we'll have to get someone else. Frankly, this Read class is now a joke to me. Four professors, nothing learned. I better get an A... either that or a FULL REFUND for those hours.
Besides getting treated like crap over in Tillman, I was treated like crap a week or so ago in Death Valley. Band hit an all time low when I was conducting Captain and the drumline took off with the rest of the band and left me swimming toward them "with all my might." On top of being made look like a fool, Dr. Spede grabbed my ankle. THAT was the worse part. I swear, if the finger of God was not on me, he would have had my Showstopper in his eye. Thankfully, things seem to be a lot better in that area... And strangely enough, I'm ready for band to be over, but I know I'm gonna miss it ridiculously. Let's not talk about that though. I thought about it today and got a little misty-eyed.
Everything else is cool... It's still just little old lonely me, but I'm cool with it. There are some people who are showing me that companionship is not all that... People are just way to serious. I mean, really. This is college. So yeah, lets have fun, but lets also put some of the petty stuff behind us... which is why I need to grill this beef I have with a particular f*cker. It's the grown up thing to do... whether I'm over everything or not...
Monday, October 11, 2004
a little bitching never hurt anything after all
So apparently, me being a complete and udder pain to the Eugene T. Moore School of Education actually did some good. Dr. Whitaker, our Social Studies Methods teacher is going to be teaching our Read class now. Alice is back in her f-ing wonderland... LOL.
I win. Don't f*ck with me... scalawags...
I win. Don't f*ck with me... scalawags...
Sunday, October 10, 2004
mixed emotions
I don't feel like writing a lot... it's late and I'm not in the state to really write anything truly worthwhile. But, the Seneca High School Marching Band is great. PERIOD. No one can tell me any different. That band went out and represented today... they seriously marched their asses off. I was so incredibly proud to be counted as a part of "The Sound of Seneca." The seriously make me proud, and I wou;d not want to be working with any other band... there is something special out there in far left field of the baseball field there on the Seneca High campus. I am so lucky to be a part of it.
Secondly, the bitch that I spoke about in the last entry... they have pissed me off royally tonight. Theft, sexual assailt, obnoxiousness... the list goes on and on. I am very frustrated. You know... too frustrated to write anymore...
I love the Seneca High Marching Band... I loathe the mentioned individual.
Secondly, the bitch that I spoke about in the last entry... they have pissed me off royally tonight. Theft, sexual assailt, obnoxiousness... the list goes on and on. I am very frustrated. You know... too frustrated to write anymore...
I love the Seneca High Marching Band... I loathe the mentioned individual.
Friday, October 08, 2004
psycho crazed suicidal nympho maniac
So I have just been brought into the light of what a disturbing journal entry sounds like... and I'd like to apologize for my last couple entries... I don't know who the hell I'm apologizing to... I mean, I don't know who reads this anymore since I don't have a link to it in my profile and I don't write as much. All that's gonna change though. Freshman year my journal used to be a place for simple little whiny entries about my lack of a love life, and I'll be damned if 3 years later I haven't progressed to writing anything more exciting. I do want to say that my sappy, whiny writing is thoughtful and worthwhile though... I have a friend who seriously feels like they are the shit and they are just so mean to EVERYONE... they have this attitude like, "I'm a bitch and I know it... and whether you like me or not, I'm way totally cool." Ha. I am nowhere near that arrogant, but I would like to say, "My blog is the shit and I know it... and whether you like it or not, it's better than yours... if you even have the competence to keep one up." LOL.
Seriously though... this is good shit, isn't it? The only thing that could rival it is The Tiger... and lawwwd, that article I wrote last week about those ridiculous bricks... excuse me, "pavers"... that line the ground at the Union has gotten the whole camups in an uproar... See... I have the emotions of the entire school in the palm of my hand!!! MUAH HA HA HA HEE HEE HEE!
::ahem::
Anyway... yesterday I had to get bold with the illustrious Eugene T. Moore School of Education. Yes, they are granting me a degree in May, but yesterday, they gave me a sorry excuse for a teacher, and neither my classmates nor I agreed with it. Our first Read teacher, Asher was one cool bitch. I mean seriously. We used to have SO much fun in that class! And not only did we have fun and the class wasn't like watching paint dry, but we learned a lot. I mean, you just learn a lot more from teachers who not only know what they are talking about, but teachers who have a clue as to how to teach and engage their students. Well, Asher had to leave for her own reasons, and all of us were sad to see her go, but we understood. The School of Education got this ridiculous backwoods Tamassee woman to come and take her place... Excuse me. The fact that she is backwoods and from Tamassee really doesn't mean anything... what the issue is, is she walked into the room (first day of her EVER being there, now) and goes, "My name is Alice, I'm your new Read teacher and from what I hear you didn't do or learn anything with your former teacher. I am assuming that you know nothing about reading and it is because your teacher never taught you anything." First of all... "Blah, blah, blah, the mission of the Eugene T. Moore School of Education is to education Caring, Capable, and Connected educators, blah, blah, blah." YOU DON'T WALK INTO A ROOM OF PRE-SERVICE TEACHERS AND TELL THEM THAT THEIR TEACHER WAS A JOKE AND THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. On top of that, you don't walk in and throw 2 packets chock full of random information ON THE DAY OF A MIDTERM becuase, "Your teacher was supposed to have taught you the things that were in Chapters 1-6 of the book and she didn't. So I am going to do it right now before the exam." That heffer gave us a copy of her PowerPoints... NINE SLIDES ON A PAGE... Poor Ellen... even if she had had designer super contacts in (Ellen is always in something designer), she wouldn't have been able to see the things adequately. She asked Alice if she could make the PowerPoints bigger... and she was like, "I have a certain amount of paper I can use, and I can't make them special just for you." Hmm... Well, Eugene T. Moore School of Education, I can't tell you how many times I have heard someone in your illustrious faculty say, "Teach to the whole child." Oh yes. I have been listening and taking advantage of this education that keeps getting more and more expensive every year.
Anyway, Alice had us write whether or not we thought we learned anything, what we did learn, and whether the midterm was an adequate assessment of what we learned on the back of our midterm. I lit into the woman... telling her that we learned tons in the weeks before she showed up and how unprofessional it was for her to come in and bash our former teacher and tell us, her students and future teachers that we didn't know anything and she was the one to enlighten us. After I so eloquently gave her a figurative smack upside the head, Ellen, Krista and I marched right up to the office of the head of the School of Education and told him everything and how we didn't appreciate her coming in and doing the things she did. He seemed really surprised and taken aback at the whole situation. He told us that she was out of line and that he would try to right the wrong, but apparently he and the rest of the Read department had been told that Asher had never taught us anything and she never showed up for class. Well, we defended Asher and our own intelligence in the only way we knew how... concrete evidence. I took out my PowerPoints that Asher had made for us (which he compared to Alice's microscopic PowerPoints) and he went and made copies of them. He said that that evidence would help a lot and give them a clearer understanding of what Asher DID do.
So... I said all that to say, DON'T F*CK WITH PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNGER THAN YOU OR IN A LOWER POSITION THAN YOU. They can screw you over and make things very difficult for you. As for Alice... I intend on rocking her world in that class... making As on everything and being just as respectful to her as she was to us. I am a senior... that Read class will be the VERY last undergraduate class I EVER take because next semester will be nothing but student teaching. All of our teachers in the block have told us that we are pretty much teachers... there isn't a lot more that we need to learn... the only thing that stands between us and the title are signed pieces of paper. She can't screw us over like that and disrespect us like we don't know what the hell is going on.
But that basically goes for everyone... I'm sick of people talking down to other people and thinking they are so much better than everyone else. Sure in your mind you can build yourself up and think that you are God's gift to mankind... that's great. It's good to have a little self-esteem. But ESPECIALLY if you are in a position of leadership, use a little humility... and geez, if you are a teacher... POINT BLANK: DON'T BE SUCH AN F-ING DOUCHE.
tehee...
Disclaimer: The title of this entry is in NO reference to the aforementioned teacher. It is about the journal entry I mentioned towards the beginning of this entry.
Seriously though... this is good shit, isn't it? The only thing that could rival it is The Tiger... and lawwwd, that article I wrote last week about those ridiculous bricks... excuse me, "pavers"... that line the ground at the Union has gotten the whole camups in an uproar... See... I have the emotions of the entire school in the palm of my hand!!! MUAH HA HA HA HEE HEE HEE!
::ahem::
Anyway... yesterday I had to get bold with the illustrious Eugene T. Moore School of Education. Yes, they are granting me a degree in May, but yesterday, they gave me a sorry excuse for a teacher, and neither my classmates nor I agreed with it. Our first Read teacher, Asher was one cool bitch. I mean seriously. We used to have SO much fun in that class! And not only did we have fun and the class wasn't like watching paint dry, but we learned a lot. I mean, you just learn a lot more from teachers who not only know what they are talking about, but teachers who have a clue as to how to teach and engage their students. Well, Asher had to leave for her own reasons, and all of us were sad to see her go, but we understood. The School of Education got this ridiculous backwoods Tamassee woman to come and take her place... Excuse me. The fact that she is backwoods and from Tamassee really doesn't mean anything... what the issue is, is she walked into the room (first day of her EVER being there, now) and goes, "My name is Alice, I'm your new Read teacher and from what I hear you didn't do or learn anything with your former teacher. I am assuming that you know nothing about reading and it is because your teacher never taught you anything." First of all... "Blah, blah, blah, the mission of the Eugene T. Moore School of Education is to education Caring, Capable, and Connected educators, blah, blah, blah." YOU DON'T WALK INTO A ROOM OF PRE-SERVICE TEACHERS AND TELL THEM THAT THEIR TEACHER WAS A JOKE AND THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. On top of that, you don't walk in and throw 2 packets chock full of random information ON THE DAY OF A MIDTERM becuase, "Your teacher was supposed to have taught you the things that were in Chapters 1-6 of the book and she didn't. So I am going to do it right now before the exam." That heffer gave us a copy of her PowerPoints... NINE SLIDES ON A PAGE... Poor Ellen... even if she had had designer super contacts in (Ellen is always in something designer), she wouldn't have been able to see the things adequately. She asked Alice if she could make the PowerPoints bigger... and she was like, "I have a certain amount of paper I can use, and I can't make them special just for you." Hmm... Well, Eugene T. Moore School of Education, I can't tell you how many times I have heard someone in your illustrious faculty say, "Teach to the whole child." Oh yes. I have been listening and taking advantage of this education that keeps getting more and more expensive every year.
Anyway, Alice had us write whether or not we thought we learned anything, what we did learn, and whether the midterm was an adequate assessment of what we learned on the back of our midterm. I lit into the woman... telling her that we learned tons in the weeks before she showed up and how unprofessional it was for her to come in and bash our former teacher and tell us, her students and future teachers that we didn't know anything and she was the one to enlighten us. After I so eloquently gave her a figurative smack upside the head, Ellen, Krista and I marched right up to the office of the head of the School of Education and told him everything and how we didn't appreciate her coming in and doing the things she did. He seemed really surprised and taken aback at the whole situation. He told us that she was out of line and that he would try to right the wrong, but apparently he and the rest of the Read department had been told that Asher had never taught us anything and she never showed up for class. Well, we defended Asher and our own intelligence in the only way we knew how... concrete evidence. I took out my PowerPoints that Asher had made for us (which he compared to Alice's microscopic PowerPoints) and he went and made copies of them. He said that that evidence would help a lot and give them a clearer understanding of what Asher DID do.
So... I said all that to say, DON'T F*CK WITH PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNGER THAN YOU OR IN A LOWER POSITION THAN YOU. They can screw you over and make things very difficult for you. As for Alice... I intend on rocking her world in that class... making As on everything and being just as respectful to her as she was to us. I am a senior... that Read class will be the VERY last undergraduate class I EVER take because next semester will be nothing but student teaching. All of our teachers in the block have told us that we are pretty much teachers... there isn't a lot more that we need to learn... the only thing that stands between us and the title are signed pieces of paper. She can't screw us over like that and disrespect us like we don't know what the hell is going on.
But that basically goes for everyone... I'm sick of people talking down to other people and thinking they are so much better than everyone else. Sure in your mind you can build yourself up and think that you are God's gift to mankind... that's great. It's good to have a little self-esteem. But ESPECIALLY if you are in a position of leadership, use a little humility... and geez, if you are a teacher... POINT BLANK: DON'T BE SUCH AN F-ING DOUCHE.
tehee...
Disclaimer: The title of this entry is in NO reference to the aforementioned teacher. It is about the journal entry I mentioned towards the beginning of this entry.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
wait a minute...
...that was so depressing. Too depressing. Why shouldn't I believe. What does it hurt? Besides the fact that it pulls way too hard on the heartstrings, it doesn't kill me...
But I hate holding out and once again like in This Year's Love... I am admitting the fact that I am waiting. Waiting sucks ass. Plain and simple. I think it's made me a bitter person.
It's why I don't believe... no. I don't. I don't care if that is too depressing. That's me and that's real. I don't believe.
But I hate holding out and once again like in This Year's Love... I am admitting the fact that I am waiting. Waiting sucks ass. Plain and simple. I think it's made me a bitter person.
It's why I don't believe... no. I don't. I don't care if that is too depressing. That's me and that's real. I don't believe.
drew's birthday
It's late... really late. It's 2 am. I have 2 exams in the morning. I have NOT written in here in a while. So this late night entry is justified.
My friend Drew who I don't see very often at all turned 21 at midnight. He IMed me at about 9:30 to see if I would go downtown with him. I said sure even though I was home sick today and have my exams in the morning. I felt bad... it seemed as if he wasn't going to have anyone to go downtown with. So I went.
Drew and I always have really good, deep conversations. It's ironic seeing how we don't talk much... we are both really busy and when we do talk it's usually online. But when we do get a chance to see each other in person, we always talk about deep philosophical stuff.
Tonight, he asked how I was doing and stuff, and I said I was okay, but no one really understands me. He said he felt the same way, but he thought he could figure me out. Then he asked if I really would want to be understood, because knowing everything about someone is the difference between being a human being and being God. It made me think, but in the end, I answered that I do want someone to know all about me.
Isn't t hat what companionship is? Knowing everything about someone? I think my parents know everything about each other... seriously. Its a kind of relationship that is even closer than that of a parent and child... children are always going to hide things from their parents, but a true loving and honest marriage has no secrets. They know everything about each other.
So yes. I want someone to know all about me. But, once again, I know that person probably doesn't exist.
Since they don't exist, I stopped living by the words of This Year's Love. Yes, I have been waiting on my own too long... and I'm still waiting, obviously. What's the point in reminding myself that I am just waiting. Just today, I have been drawn to song lyrics that talk about believing (all American Idol songs, ironically). I want to believe... and I like these songs. So I'll hold on to these for a while. Whether I really believe or not, I can't tell. Truthfully, I don't believe... but that just sounds so horrible. So... I dunno.
This one song that I am listening to now, Dreams, talks about how we are just made of dreams. I mean, I do dream about it... is that believing enough? I honestly cannot sit here and say that without a shadow of a doubt I believe someone is out there for me. But I can say that I have dreamt and do dream of someone... so is that believing? It's the only hope I have I guess.
It would be so much more relaxing if I could just give up completely and not even think about it... not even dream about it. Then I wouldn't have to even wonder if I did believe.
See... I'm too confusing for someone to understand. No. I don't believe.
My friend Drew who I don't see very often at all turned 21 at midnight. He IMed me at about 9:30 to see if I would go downtown with him. I said sure even though I was home sick today and have my exams in the morning. I felt bad... it seemed as if he wasn't going to have anyone to go downtown with. So I went.
Drew and I always have really good, deep conversations. It's ironic seeing how we don't talk much... we are both really busy and when we do talk it's usually online. But when we do get a chance to see each other in person, we always talk about deep philosophical stuff.
Tonight, he asked how I was doing and stuff, and I said I was okay, but no one really understands me. He said he felt the same way, but he thought he could figure me out. Then he asked if I really would want to be understood, because knowing everything about someone is the difference between being a human being and being God. It made me think, but in the end, I answered that I do want someone to know all about me.
Isn't t hat what companionship is? Knowing everything about someone? I think my parents know everything about each other... seriously. Its a kind of relationship that is even closer than that of a parent and child... children are always going to hide things from their parents, but a true loving and honest marriage has no secrets. They know everything about each other.
So yes. I want someone to know all about me. But, once again, I know that person probably doesn't exist.
Since they don't exist, I stopped living by the words of This Year's Love. Yes, I have been waiting on my own too long... and I'm still waiting, obviously. What's the point in reminding myself that I am just waiting. Just today, I have been drawn to song lyrics that talk about believing (all American Idol songs, ironically). I want to believe... and I like these songs. So I'll hold on to these for a while. Whether I really believe or not, I can't tell. Truthfully, I don't believe... but that just sounds so horrible. So... I dunno.
This one song that I am listening to now, Dreams, talks about how we are just made of dreams. I mean, I do dream about it... is that believing enough? I honestly cannot sit here and say that without a shadow of a doubt I believe someone is out there for me. But I can say that I have dreamt and do dream of someone... so is that believing? It's the only hope I have I guess.
It would be so much more relaxing if I could just give up completely and not even think about it... not even dream about it. Then I wouldn't have to even wonder if I did believe.
See... I'm too confusing for someone to understand. No. I don't believe.
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