I really love roses, especially yellow ones, and I came across this in a book that was given to me. Well no the poem, but what different colored roses meant. I thought it would be a really cool concept, so yeah. Thought I would share it.
Red is the color that makes you lust,
Black is for eternity,
Coral I admire you,
Purple power and passion true,
Orange is vitality and energy,
Peach is but charming soul,
While white is pure and innocent,
Elegance is pink and beauty is to,
Creativity and solidarity is a white and red hue,
Ivory is the love that’s Romantic and mature,
While yellow is a friendship that you will always endure
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Benighted
I remember writing this one day in 20 minutes, because we had to do a quick write in my Lit Mag class. Somehow this came out of me and everyone in my class liked it. I ran across it, like some of the things posted for today, and wanted to share it.
Here I lye,
Twist mangled and torn,
Black as the night,
Where they all sat in mourn,
In Body and soul,
I wander in place,
Shifting uncomfortable,
I can't feel my face,
The mirror still whole,
With blood splattered fair,
I look in the mirror,
And still I'm not there,
Out the door I look,
My sister just cried,
I touch her and shake,
As tears fall from her eyes,
They walk down the road,
All tired and worn,
Stopping at a graveyard,
Are they going to mourn?
The mist swirls around,
As they saunter in silence,
I wander behind,
Remembering the violence,
When they halted,
What I saw,
Made me drop to my knees,
A grave stood tall,
There in the stone,
Words written to see,
Of a girl who died,
In a tragedy,
Finally I realized,
The reason they cried,
There on the stone,
It said I had died.
Here I lye,
Twist mangled and torn,
Black as the night,
Where they all sat in mourn,
In Body and soul,
I wander in place,
Shifting uncomfortable,
I can't feel my face,
The mirror still whole,
With blood splattered fair,
I look in the mirror,
And still I'm not there,
Out the door I look,
My sister just cried,
I touch her and shake,
As tears fall from her eyes,
They walk down the road,
All tired and worn,
Stopping at a graveyard,
Are they going to mourn?
The mist swirls around,
As they saunter in silence,
I wander behind,
Remembering the violence,
When they halted,
What I saw,
Made me drop to my knees,
A grave stood tall,
There in the stone,
Words written to see,
Of a girl who died,
In a tragedy,
Finally I realized,
The reason they cried,
There on the stone,
It said I had died.
The Door
The desolate day, being shoved and crushed below the horizon, grabbed the very last bit of time it had left; night wining, ran its black silken hand over the hard metal surface hidden between two bushes painted it the same raven color that was slowly taking over the sky.
A place that held truth, love and enlightenment, a place of great triumph for her kind. Covered with faded bolts from long ago that were snuggled into the metal they had slept in for the past century. Holding back the wave, from the bomb, that not only had supposedly wiped out the female race, but had also sent society spiraling down into the deepest depths of despair. Every woman that had heard of the bomb had help build the shelter that lay hidden between two overgrown bushes and behind that much disheveled door. Women who had been scientists, politicians, lawyers and even president had all helped in creating this shelter, which surprisingly had done much more than it was expected to. Books, famous documents and paintings were all hidden there for people who wanted to know, who were curious to see what had been. It had stored great knowledge that even at the moment was needed for mass use, was still to be used later. A distinct structure, about the height of an average woman and broad enough for two, was the gloomy door. It’s slightly rusted exterior with a forest green hue covering over what hadn’t managed to rust made the makeup of the door. A small round handle embedded into the moss, a covered engraving on the door, was what was used to open it. You wouldn’t be able to gain access to the place unless you had someone who knew how to get into it, let alone find it.
When walking slightly to the left of that door in the white washed wall that made up the building, that the secret place was hidden under, was a carving. To an average person the symbols wouldn’t mean anything more than a few scribbles or scraps that had been made. Though to the people who lived below the average person, would look at it with pride and wish that it was true. For those very symbols told of a future, a future that still hadn’t come. It was a promise made by the original women who had created the place. An oath that you had to make before you could help the cause, in a sense that you would not give the whereabouts of this door. For only the silent plague would fall upon you soon six feet below the surface.
A place that held truth, love and enlightenment, a place of great triumph for her kind. Covered with faded bolts from long ago that were snuggled into the metal they had slept in for the past century. Holding back the wave, from the bomb, that not only had supposedly wiped out the female race, but had also sent society spiraling down into the deepest depths of despair. Every woman that had heard of the bomb had help build the shelter that lay hidden between two overgrown bushes and behind that much disheveled door. Women who had been scientists, politicians, lawyers and even president had all helped in creating this shelter, which surprisingly had done much more than it was expected to. Books, famous documents and paintings were all hidden there for people who wanted to know, who were curious to see what had been. It had stored great knowledge that even at the moment was needed for mass use, was still to be used later. A distinct structure, about the height of an average woman and broad enough for two, was the gloomy door. It’s slightly rusted exterior with a forest green hue covering over what hadn’t managed to rust made the makeup of the door. A small round handle embedded into the moss, a covered engraving on the door, was what was used to open it. You wouldn’t be able to gain access to the place unless you had someone who knew how to get into it, let alone find it.
When walking slightly to the left of that door in the white washed wall that made up the building, that the secret place was hidden under, was a carving. To an average person the symbols wouldn’t mean anything more than a few scribbles or scraps that had been made. Though to the people who lived below the average person, would look at it with pride and wish that it was true. For those very symbols told of a future, a future that still hadn’t come. It was a promise made by the original women who had created the place. An oath that you had to make before you could help the cause, in a sense that you would not give the whereabouts of this door. For only the silent plague would fall upon you soon six feet below the surface.
Whispers of My Life
Can you hear them?
Hear what?
The Whispers.
What Whispers?
Can you hear what they’re saying?
No, what are they saying?
They’re upset with us.
How do you know?
They whip things at me.
Are you sure?
They cry to me.
Cry? How?
They shake under my feet.
Why?
They’re upset.
Why are they upset?
We’re poisoning them.
Poisoning? What do you mean?
We’re killing them.
Why?
Because we don’t understand.
Hear what?
The Whispers.
What Whispers?
Can you hear what they’re saying?
No, what are they saying?
They’re upset with us.
How do you know?
They whip things at me.
Are you sure?
They cry to me.
Cry? How?
They shake under my feet.
Why?
They’re upset.
Why are they upset?
We’re poisoning them.
Poisoning? What do you mean?
We’re killing them.
Why?
Because we don’t understand.
Did I Tell You?
Did I tell you dad,
What you did,
Did I tell you,
That I was mad,
Did I tell you friend,
That I need you,
Did I tell you,
This is the end,
Did I tell you boy,
That I love you,
Did I tell you,
That you are a convoy,
Did I tell you life,
That I can’t stand you,
Did I tell you,
You bring me strife,
Did I tell you world,
That I don’t need you,
Did I tell you,
You wont leave me burled,
Did I tell you love,
That I can’t understand you,
Did I tell you,
You take me above,
Did I tell you earth,
That you are hard,
Did I tell you,
When I hit you I will feel mirth.
What you did,
Did I tell you,
That I was mad,
Did I tell you friend,
That I need you,
Did I tell you,
This is the end,
Did I tell you boy,
That I love you,
Did I tell you,
That you are a convoy,
Did I tell you life,
That I can’t stand you,
Did I tell you,
You bring me strife,
Did I tell you world,
That I don’t need you,
Did I tell you,
You wont leave me burled,
Did I tell you love,
That I can’t understand you,
Did I tell you,
You take me above,
Did I tell you earth,
That you are hard,
Did I tell you,
When I hit you I will feel mirth.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
What Are You Watching?
Today's television. Well, what can you really say about it. I guess technically quite a lot. "Reality TV" is such a ridiculous term. I want to know who came up with that and actually thought that it was, well reality. Maybe back when the original concept arose, such as back when Real World didn't have the name of a country following it. I think it's interesting how crime shows are on the rise and as far as I can see, they've peaked. It used to just be a few of them, and now there is probably one on every major channel. Another new phase in television seems to be sci-fi shows. That would include Ghost Hunters, shows that look for mythical creatures, and basically anything that can fall under science fiction. Of course, I can't forget about the Vampire shows that have been popping up since the Twilight phenomenon. It's like you can't leave your house without running into something vampire related. Don't get me wrong, there are some very good shows on TV. I enjoy watching it as much as the next person, it just seems that TV has lost what it actually is.
MTV. If I remember correctly it stood for Music Television. I don't think I've seen music on that channel for at least five years now. Now there is channels like VH1two, MTV2, and other ridiculous channel names like that to play music videos. It seems that the original channels don't have enough room for music like their name states, instead they fill the channels with weird celebrity shows and "Reality" TV. The only good thing about most teen shows and reality TV, is that it makes you feel better about your life. It's like wow, I'm glad I'm not that guy. Their life freaking sucks.
I guess my thoughts on TV, have stemmed from sitting at home watching it all day. After surgery, I really don't have a whole lot to do anymore. The whole not being able to walk very well or drive anywhere due to medication makes it rather difficult to regain the outside world. Ah, oh well. It's coming. At least I have something to keep me mentally stimulated all day. Boomerang is extremely educational you know.
MTV. If I remember correctly it stood for Music Television. I don't think I've seen music on that channel for at least five years now. Now there is channels like VH1two, MTV2, and other ridiculous channel names like that to play music videos. It seems that the original channels don't have enough room for music like their name states, instead they fill the channels with weird celebrity shows and "Reality" TV. The only good thing about most teen shows and reality TV, is that it makes you feel better about your life. It's like wow, I'm glad I'm not that guy. Their life freaking sucks.
I guess my thoughts on TV, have stemmed from sitting at home watching it all day. After surgery, I really don't have a whole lot to do anymore. The whole not being able to walk very well or drive anywhere due to medication makes it rather difficult to regain the outside world. Ah, oh well. It's coming. At least I have something to keep me mentally stimulated all day. Boomerang is extremely educational you know.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
What Did You Say?
The wonderful world of relationships and the super fun arguments that come with them. Sometimes I feel like a crazy person when the two of us get into certain conversations. I will be completely rational and sane one moment and then the next I'm taking some of the things he says completely out of context. The worst part of it is that in my brain I'm yelling at myself to stop, but it's like I have no control over what is going on. The words just seem to flow like vomit, except unlike some vomit you can't slow words back down. Gross analogy, I know but I bet you know exactly what I'm talking about though. It is even worse when you're starving and then everything just seems worse then it actually is, just like when you're on your period. Everything just seems to be completely blown out of proportion to the point where your brain doesn't calm down until you try and go to sleep that night. Sometimes being a girl really sucks.
Another thing that seems to be an issue when being a girl is crying. Sometimes you just can't control it. One moment you'll be completely fine and then someone turns the water on. This happened last night. During my horrible crying I also became extremely irrational and decided that my doctors would be able to figure out what was wrong with me if I made it worse. That was one of my worst ideas I have had in a long time. Then after putting myself in significantly more pain, I continued to wail for another 30 minutes before I fell asleep crying in his arms. I never thought I would be that girl that cried and beat on her boyfriends chest until her knees collapsed, but last night I was. I wonder if every girl goes through that at one point in their life. That point of totally mental exhaustion and delirium that they just fall apart. It happens in the movies, so obviously it must be true.
Then after all of this happens, there is the sometimes extremely painful, "I'm sorry" that must follow. Don't get me wrong, I always want to apologize because I feel so extremely bad for what I did. See the thing is, I'm not actually joking about this. However, it always seems like I botch the apologize. I don't mean to, it just sort of happens sometimes. I'll be talking to him and apologizing when the original incident gets brought up and sometimes the fight just seems to restart. Which is extremely frustrating because all you wanted to do what apologize and tell them how much you love the. Sometimes though, that never seems to work no matter what I try. I love my boyfriend more than anything in the world. I know that sounds young and juvenile, but it's true. I hate fighting with me because then I can't run to him all excited when something happens, or call him because I had a bad day. Though I have to say, calling him to meet you at the Hospital always seems to stop a fight and starts new ones sometimes.
He wants to read what I write about on here, but I'm embarrassed by it. That was one of our most recent little spats.I really am embarrassed though, that he will find what I write about to be stupid. I write to a pretend audience to help and make me feel better. I don't worry about publishing it where no one I know has one because I've noticed that most people don't care about other bloggers enough to read their stuff. Should I let him read it? How would I even go about telling him that I'm not ok with him reading it. I don't want him to take the stuff I write as anything bad or even extremely weird. If anyone actually reads this, then they know how scattered it is and how some entries fit and others jump up and down in their Vegas girl headdresses. That's me though. We've been dating for over 2 years now, so I would think that none of this would phase him. Well wish me luck. I'm sending him my link tonight.
Another thing that seems to be an issue when being a girl is crying. Sometimes you just can't control it. One moment you'll be completely fine and then someone turns the water on. This happened last night. During my horrible crying I also became extremely irrational and decided that my doctors would be able to figure out what was wrong with me if I made it worse. That was one of my worst ideas I have had in a long time. Then after putting myself in significantly more pain, I continued to wail for another 30 minutes before I fell asleep crying in his arms. I never thought I would be that girl that cried and beat on her boyfriends chest until her knees collapsed, but last night I was. I wonder if every girl goes through that at one point in their life. That point of totally mental exhaustion and delirium that they just fall apart. It happens in the movies, so obviously it must be true.
Then after all of this happens, there is the sometimes extremely painful, "I'm sorry" that must follow. Don't get me wrong, I always want to apologize because I feel so extremely bad for what I did. See the thing is, I'm not actually joking about this. However, it always seems like I botch the apologize. I don't mean to, it just sort of happens sometimes. I'll be talking to him and apologizing when the original incident gets brought up and sometimes the fight just seems to restart. Which is extremely frustrating because all you wanted to do what apologize and tell them how much you love the. Sometimes though, that never seems to work no matter what I try. I love my boyfriend more than anything in the world. I know that sounds young and juvenile, but it's true. I hate fighting with me because then I can't run to him all excited when something happens, or call him because I had a bad day. Though I have to say, calling him to meet you at the Hospital always seems to stop a fight and starts new ones sometimes.
He wants to read what I write about on here, but I'm embarrassed by it. That was one of our most recent little spats.I really am embarrassed though, that he will find what I write about to be stupid. I write to a pretend audience to help and make me feel better. I don't worry about publishing it where no one I know has one because I've noticed that most people don't care about other bloggers enough to read their stuff. Should I let him read it? How would I even go about telling him that I'm not ok with him reading it. I don't want him to take the stuff I write as anything bad or even extremely weird. If anyone actually reads this, then they know how scattered it is and how some entries fit and others jump up and down in their Vegas girl headdresses. That's me though. We've been dating for over 2 years now, so I would think that none of this would phase him. Well wish me luck. I'm sending him my link tonight.
When is Crazy, Crazy?
At what point is crazy, crazy? Is it at that point where you've gone completely delirious or is it that point where you are so lost that sometimes it is hard to see the first through the trees. Is it that point where you're in pain constantly for over six months and one something seems to get better, something goes wrong? When do you know? How do you know? Is it your doctor telling you that you need to see someone because they think you need tools that they don't believe you have? Is it when you have your first mental break down in months? How do you know? What do you do when you think you know?
It is sad to admit that my doctor has told me that I should go talk to someone for my mental well being. Of course it can't be the person I saw forever after my parents left, it has to be someone new that specializes in pain depression. I don't believe I am depressed, but does that mean I am? My mother doesn't believe I am either. It's interesting when I look over
everything and how it seems that some of my doctors think I am incompetent. I have been though so many different medical issues and I made it through all of those without anything to damaging, so why would this time be so different? I guess it's because its been going on for so long without any break from pain and how my days seem to be blending together. I still get through school though, and I've made it through months of this. I don't understand why everything is so different now. It's hard when you're tired, stressed, in pain, and very medicated. I have a wonderful family to back me up though, and an amazing boyfriend who somehow manages to hang through all of this with me. I guess that means he really does love me more than anything in the world. I guess I really do believe what my tattoo says, "Life is difficult, but it is justified."
I miss the world outside. No matter what some people think, it is not fun to sit around the house all day watching TV and being on the internet. I have watched and memorized so many television shows that I have reverted to Boomerang for most of my viewing pleasures now a days. I also watch quite a lot of nick@nite. I actually enjoy watching shows like George Lopez and The Nanny. Though they can be rather silly, they make me laugh in that silly little kid way just like Boomerang does.I can't wait to rejoin the outside world and the fresh air, even that cold or hot air that takes your breath away. I'm coming world! I might be a little slow, but I'm coming back.
It is sad to admit that my doctor has told me that I should go talk to someone for my mental well being. Of course it can't be the person I saw forever after my parents left, it has to be someone new that specializes in pain depression. I don't believe I am depressed, but does that mean I am? My mother doesn't believe I am either. It's interesting when I look over
everything and how it seems that some of my doctors think I am incompetent. I have been though so many different medical issues and I made it through all of those without anything to damaging, so why would this time be so different? I guess it's because its been going on for so long without any break from pain and how my days seem to be blending together. I still get through school though, and I've made it through months of this. I don't understand why everything is so different now. It's hard when you're tired, stressed, in pain, and very medicated. I have a wonderful family to back me up though, and an amazing boyfriend who somehow manages to hang through all of this with me. I guess that means he really does love me more than anything in the world. I guess I really do believe what my tattoo says, "Life is difficult, but it is justified."
I miss the world outside. No matter what some people think, it is not fun to sit around the house all day watching TV and being on the internet. I have watched and memorized so many television shows that I have reverted to Boomerang for most of my viewing pleasures now a days. I also watch quite a lot of nick@nite. I actually enjoy watching shows like George Lopez and The Nanny. Though they can be rather silly, they make me laugh in that silly little kid way just like Boomerang does.I can't wait to rejoin the outside world and the fresh air, even that cold or hot air that takes your breath away. I'm coming world! I might be a little slow, but I'm coming back.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Getting in the Grove
I have to admit, I’m not used to writing as if someone is actually reading, though sadly it looks as if no one does anyways. That is ok though, because that means that I can write similar to how I usually do. I do like to write, if not for therapeutic reasons I like to write to put my imagination down. Technically I have been writing a book for a few years now. However, I’m not very motivated to finish it which is mainly because I know how it ends. I guess I rationalize that there is no reason to finish it if I already know how it goes. It makes me feel better that my sister is the same way, at least its genetic.
It is interesting to see the different types of blogs people put up. They really show their personalities and sometimes how they perceive the world. Even if I don’t know the person, I still like to read what they say just to see who they are. People are different on the internet. It is interesting how people are not as afraid to do and say what they think and feel. There isn’t that initial feeling of rejection because you aren’t physically being viewed.
My older brother used to have a blog, and I loved to read it. I got to experience him even when I never go to see him. Now he doesn’t have one so I have to revert to stalking him on Facebook and Twitter. He lives on the complete other side of the country with my first nephew. His blog was always interesting and exciting. He had the most amazing thoughts and ideas. Things I would have never known or thought about if he hadn’t written about them. He always helps keep me grounded. If my whole world is turned upside down and I feel like I’m spinning out of control, I call him and have him use his logic to at least slow the spinning down. I think he can even understand me when I’m balling at him through the phone.
I love all of my brothers and my sister, but it is interesting how my older brother seems to have some very strange significant hold on me. His opinion means the world to me. I could never quite figure out why though. My boyfriend, who means the world to me, reminds me of my older brother in ways and even my younger brother, which, is kind of creepy. I remember watching a show on the discovery channel that said that daughters tend to date guys similar to their father. I guess I’ve always been that weird exception to that rule. That’s ok though, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It is interesting to see the different types of blogs people put up. They really show their personalities and sometimes how they perceive the world. Even if I don’t know the person, I still like to read what they say just to see who they are. People are different on the internet. It is interesting how people are not as afraid to do and say what they think and feel. There isn’t that initial feeling of rejection because you aren’t physically being viewed.
My older brother used to have a blog, and I loved to read it. I got to experience him even when I never go to see him. Now he doesn’t have one so I have to revert to stalking him on Facebook and Twitter. He lives on the complete other side of the country with my first nephew. His blog was always interesting and exciting. He had the most amazing thoughts and ideas. Things I would have never known or thought about if he hadn’t written about them. He always helps keep me grounded. If my whole world is turned upside down and I feel like I’m spinning out of control, I call him and have him use his logic to at least slow the spinning down. I think he can even understand me when I’m balling at him through the phone.
I love all of my brothers and my sister, but it is interesting how my older brother seems to have some very strange significant hold on me. His opinion means the world to me. I could never quite figure out why though. My boyfriend, who means the world to me, reminds me of my older brother in ways and even my younger brother, which, is kind of creepy. I remember watching a show on the discovery channel that said that daughters tend to date guys similar to their father. I guess I’ve always been that weird exception to that rule. That’s ok though, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Sometimes the First Body Isn't what You're Supposed to Have
I watched Avatar last night. It was one of the most moving movies I have ever seen. For me it was a movie that not only made my heart hurt for the Na’vi, but it also made me cry. Though I do agree that this movie’s plot is very similar to a few movies pushed together, I also believe that this movie is very important for the world to experience at this time. This movie reverts some people back to their basic sense of instinct and morality. Of course there are still those individuals who think like the military characters in the movie. Do not take this as I have an issue with the military. I think that they have be helpful in many ways, just like they can be extremely destructive.
The reason that these people had for attacking the Na’vi was absolutely ridiculous to me. It was so greedy and wrong. It reminds me of the Trail of Tears back in 1831. Then after the natives were moved to the Black Hills, the Europeans tried to remove them because of the gold that was discovered in the hills. Sadly this situation in very similar to what happened to the Na’vi, only they were able to fight back. How much of a different place would the world be if the natives had won the war against them? Would we all be more linked to the world that keeps us alive no matter how horribly we treat it?
The military that are trying to destroy the Na’vi’s home are repeating their own history and they don’t even see it. The only people who seem to realize how special Pandora is are the scientists. They realize how special the Na’vi’s culture is and how the entire plant is linked together like a giant brain. It is important for people to realize that we are killing the planet and that if we do find another planet, if it doesn’t fight back, we will probably kill it.
What does the title of this have to do with anything? Well, it is a realization that just because the rest of the world seems to be repeating history doesn’t mean that we have to either. Realizing that we need to change and embrace our inner self like Jake Sully did and see the world as it really is, is more important that people realize. Yes we have damaged a significant amount of the world to a point where we can’t fix it, but we can still fix some things. Embrace the inner native that is built into you, and realize how special Earth is. Pandora is our Earth, except the people who live on it take care of it and realize its significance. Sometimes our first body isn’t what we are supposed to have; sometimes it’s the one we find through the journey of life. Sometimes, we have to start over as if we are a child all over again. Most of us are a Jake Sully, except we don’t realize it or even how significant we are. Are you in the right body?
The reason that these people had for attacking the Na’vi was absolutely ridiculous to me. It was so greedy and wrong. It reminds me of the Trail of Tears back in 1831. Then after the natives were moved to the Black Hills, the Europeans tried to remove them because of the gold that was discovered in the hills. Sadly this situation in very similar to what happened to the Na’vi, only they were able to fight back. How much of a different place would the world be if the natives had won the war against them? Would we all be more linked to the world that keeps us alive no matter how horribly we treat it?
The military that are trying to destroy the Na’vi’s home are repeating their own history and they don’t even see it. The only people who seem to realize how special Pandora is are the scientists. They realize how special the Na’vi’s culture is and how the entire plant is linked together like a giant brain. It is important for people to realize that we are killing the planet and that if we do find another planet, if it doesn’t fight back, we will probably kill it.
What does the title of this have to do with anything? Well, it is a realization that just because the rest of the world seems to be repeating history doesn’t mean that we have to either. Realizing that we need to change and embrace our inner self like Jake Sully did and see the world as it really is, is more important that people realize. Yes we have damaged a significant amount of the world to a point where we can’t fix it, but we can still fix some things. Embrace the inner native that is built into you, and realize how special Earth is. Pandora is our Earth, except the people who live on it take care of it and realize its significance. Sometimes our first body isn’t what we are supposed to have; sometimes it’s the one we find through the journey of life. Sometimes, we have to start over as if we are a child all over again. Most of us are a Jake Sully, except we don’t realize it or even how significant we are. Are you in the right body?
Thursday, April 22, 2010
A lLttle Pain Never Hurt Anyone, Right?
Yesterday was not one of the best days I’ve had in awhile. I have been having some issues with my foot since late this past summer. I had finally started walking, not well, but some. I had to say it was very exciting. I had unfortunately started getting ill, so I missed my early in the week physical therapy, but my physical therapist said that I could do some of my exercises at home. I, being a good patient, was doing them after I had fed the animals. With one of them, I needed someone to watch what I was doing to make sure it was correct. It’s not like it was easy to mess up, but I still had to have someone watch to make sure I was actually moving my ankle. What I had to do was extend my right leg out, put my heel down and then move forward so I could flatten my foot. The exercise it to mimic walking to get your ankle used to the movement. On my third step, something happened and it felt as if something in my ankle ripped. It was so painful that my knees literally buckled under me. My boyfriend had to pick me up carry me to the couch and get ice of it as fast as possible while I was screaming in pain. I ended up getting a hold of one of my doctors, who told me not to go to the ER and just keep an eye on it. I went and saw him this morning, and unfortunately the only answers he had for me was “that is strange” and “I think that it might be …, but I’m not sure.” That wasn’t very comforting, and the pain has been getting progressively worse. Well, unless I numb it with ice, then it feels tolerable. That’s probably not a good thing, I guess we’ll see what happens.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Chicken of the Sky
This weekend my sister and I got into a rather interesting discussion about pigeons. When I say interesting, I’m not meaning in a wow that is intriguing type way. This conversation was about pigeons that are missing parts of their feet. She said that there were only a few pigeons that were like that. I completely disagreed. I informed her of the last time I was in Baltimore, and how almost every single pigeon I saw was missing at least one of its toes. She laughed at me and said that I would be one of those people who would notice something like that.
The thing that really bothered me about those poor pigeons, was the fact that they had those little tracker things on their ankles. It wasn’t that they had them, it was the fact that the ones that were the worst off, had them. There was one pigeon that had a stub for a leg, and his other leg (with the plastic thing) only had one toe which probably was the only thing keeping the tracker on his leg. The tracker means that someone is watching after him, doesn’t it? So, if that is true, how come those pigeons are missing the most amounts of their feet? I would think that they would be better off than the other pigeons, not worse off. The only reason I can come up with that they have less toes, is because the other pigeons got jealous and started attacking him so that was they could have the special tracker. I mean really, those trackers do stand out pretty well.
I just feel bad for those pigeons. It’s not their fault that they were picked to be tacked. I can understand why someone might want to do tracking for scientific purposes, but why wouldn’t those scientists want to take care of their experiments. It just seems cruel to let poor pigeons walk around with nubs for feet and only one eye. There really is a pigeons that looked like that, at least there was, and he seemed to stay around the Hooters in the Harbor in Baltimore. I found that rather amusing myself. Any thoughts?
The thing that really bothered me about those poor pigeons, was the fact that they had those little tracker things on their ankles. It wasn’t that they had them, it was the fact that the ones that were the worst off, had them. There was one pigeon that had a stub for a leg, and his other leg (with the plastic thing) only had one toe which probably was the only thing keeping the tracker on his leg. The tracker means that someone is watching after him, doesn’t it? So, if that is true, how come those pigeons are missing the most amounts of their feet? I would think that they would be better off than the other pigeons, not worse off. The only reason I can come up with that they have less toes, is because the other pigeons got jealous and started attacking him so that was they could have the special tracker. I mean really, those trackers do stand out pretty well.
I just feel bad for those pigeons. It’s not their fault that they were picked to be tacked. I can understand why someone might want to do tracking for scientific purposes, but why wouldn’t those scientists want to take care of their experiments. It just seems cruel to let poor pigeons walk around with nubs for feet and only one eye. There really is a pigeons that looked like that, at least there was, and he seemed to stay around the Hooters in the Harbor in Baltimore. I found that rather amusing myself. Any thoughts?
Friday, April 16, 2010
M is for Math
Mathematics. At this point in time I have nothing positive to say about it. Well, that is not necessarily true. Math can be very helpful. A good example would be cooking and needing to double a recipe, or cutting a recipe in half due to the amount of people you are serving to. It can also be very helpful when something is being constructed, whether it is a building or a tree house. Math can also be very fun. Doing fractions with food and even probability using different types of candy is fun. In elementary school and middle school/junior high, math is easy and fun for the most part. Since knowing that type of math is required to graduate, many teachers try and make it as fun and memorable as possible.
My issue with math is once you hit high school the teachers really don’t seem to care. Some teachers just show you the information and hope it sticks. Now don’t get me wrong, there are teachers who care about their students. There are also teachers who overload their students with work. I understand that doing example problems help you learn the information, but doing so many that the student doesn’t have time to study, memorize formulas, or do any of your other classes homework is just ridiculous. In college, it just gets worse. Many of the teachers think that their class work comes before any of the other classes. Look, I know college is supposed to be more work and I’m fine with that. The teachers who don’t realize that their students have other classes and/or jobs need a reality check. Students realize that their teachers have lives, and sometimes unexpected things arise. We adapt, why can’t they? I have taken math both in the classroom and online. My suggestions to those who have not done as online math class and do not do well self teaching, do not take one. It will kick your butt. It is very hard, especially with a teacher that overloads their students with too much work, and even the ones who give very little work. Too much work, stresses out a large majority of students, and to little work lets students forget that they have that class. If we don’t visit the website for our class very often, we have a tendency to get wrapped up in other things and forget.
My current issue with math is trying to learn Trigonometry on my own. Trig can be difficult to learn in general if you just can’t seem to get it to click, and that is with someone teaching it to you. Online, it is like my teacher just gives us a butt load of stuff to do with no examples except really crappy videos on YouTube. I love YouTube, but it really doesn’t help very much with math. It is so easy to get distracted on there. My teacher has been extremely accommodating considering all of the medical issues that have been going on with me. She has tried so hard to make things work for me and I really appreciate all her help. Based off the average class grades, I’m not the only one struggling in this class and you would think that would put up a red flag to the teacher. Danger Will Robinson! Danger Will Robinson! Your students are failing!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
An Evil to Me is Cute to Others
As spring starts, new beginnings are everywhere. That could be not only as new life, but as transformations as well. One of these new beginnings can also be a transformation as well. I know many little children who love Caterpillars. When I was younger, my best friend and I would catch them at recess and play with them, put them on other people and even put them in our pockets to try and keep them as pets. My brother and I used to do something similar at home with Caterpillars and Worms. We would collect them in plastic containers and attempt to keep them as pets. Normally they died from being cooked inside the container because we left them outside in the sun; which, when I think back on it, was rather morbid and sad.
Now, what does Caterpillars have to do with anything? Well, today when I went out for a walk with my dog and a Caterpillar dropped down in front of me. I screamed and tried to get as far away from it as possible to get around it. I have a very strange fear of Caterpillars. Unfortunately, I cannot pinpoint when exactly I became so terrified by them. The only possible time I can think of was the day a Caterpillar dropped onto my arm one day while I was at the park. It caught me off guard, but it didn’t freak me out. I tried to pull it off, but it was stuck to my arm. I really had to dig my finger under it to pull it off my arm, which was rather difficult because they seem to have some weird suction ability. When I finally got it off my arm, it wrapped around my finger and then proceeded to climb up and around my finger to my hand. During this I flung my hand around as if I was shaking a Polaroid picture and yet it still would not get off of me. What finally did it was scraping my hand against a picnic table. Though this seems to be an event that could begin my fear, it wasn’t. The reason I know this, is because I remember pulling Caterpillars off of one of the daycare kids my mom used to watch. He had been poking one of the nests with a stick and it exploded all over him. It was actually really amusing, but I had no problem helping him.
The Caterpillar is my villain, and yet I cannot figure out when we became such since we were originally the best of friends.
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