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Welcome to my site archives. 10 posts are listed per page.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
As about the only human on Earth still with dial-up, I can honestly say my days are filled with turmoil. Web pages are slow to load, downloading is out of the question, and seeing my friends photos on the internet? Forget about that, too. I too often have to resort to using somebody else's connection to do the things everyone else does, to be "normal". In the mornings before school, I will often use the internet at my boyfriend's house to do my necessities (that is, check email, facebook, myspace, random games). However, I can still blog on this website as it takes little to no time to download, which amazes me and is a relief because this is something I actually want to do.
I do not understand why phone companies decide they do not wish to run phonelines out where we live. Our only option out here in the wilderness is internet by satellite, which is quite costly. Which is quite ironic because not even a 1 1/2 miles down the road are people getting DSL and cable internet! So my question is this:
How lazy does a phone company have to be to not install a few more phonelines to allow the other 20% of the population the luxuries of fast internet? Is it really that complicated? If a team of men can install phone/electrical lines all over the country of America, why can they not afford to spend a week or month or so installing MORE cables for willing/paying customers who only require the fastness of the world wide web? I honestly do not know...
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Monday, October 13, 2008
On this day, Columbus Day, my employer called me to ask if I wanted to work. Whether one works or not depends on how many children are at daycare, for which we have to fill in a teacher-to-child ratio which differs for each age class. I declined the opportunity to make minimum wage for the mere 3 1/2 hours of hard labor (and trust me, it's HARD) and enjoyed the rest of my day off. I still cannot help myself but to ask why one would take a child to daycare? Is it because there are no available babysitters? Can you not trust anyone with your children (and in this day and age, it is not surprising). I was raised with family down on a nice piece of land with a few farm animals, some domestic, and having the time of my life playing, uninhibited, with little to no rules. To me, this seemed the better choice. Through this, I learned the do’s and don’ts of everyday society. I learned, either by trial-and-error or by getting in trouble, what was appropriate and what was not. Allowing a child to have these barriers, these closed doors, these rules that limit their imagination, is just so wild to me. I grew up climbing trees at the age of five, being around homicidal chickens, in an environment that contained poisonous plants and animals (with the proper supervision, of course) and see how I turned out? I’m in college with a plan for my future.
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Sunday, October 12, 2008
Even during a vacation, a time spent to relax and not think about the worries that await your normal life is not something I can just do. Throughout my tiny short life span, I have been conditioned to use all of my free time wisely. During school, one had to make sure their homework was done for the next class. Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks were spent trying to figure out what to do for science fair. Even now, when I basically have free time 4 days out of the week, I STILL cannot find time to give to myself to just let the day go, to allow my poor knotted up back time to unwind. It is quite sad, really. Upon entering high school, I came about new obstacles; for instance, an annual science fair. During the times I would normally want to spend doing something fun, I had to get down into the nitty gritty of things just to keep up my grades.
Even now I cannot bring myself to just relax. I have back problems and at one point a knot in my back was a pressure point that brought about stress to my heart. Even if I did take a vacation, the worries of the real world would only follow me there, prodding and poking, telling me I have better things to do than sit around all day doing nothing. It is annoying and it worries the people around me that I cannot relax. I have been given multiple massages from friends who have tried to work out all the kinks in my back, but the knots always stay or come back. It is a constant struggle for me to try to keep my body calm.
If I know I have a major assignment due and I happen to be laying in bed, attempting to give my body a well-deserved rest, my back muscles respond with strong tugs and pulls; knots are forming. I do not believe I can truly relax until I am finished with college and have a steady job with a good string of finance. Only then will I truly be able to relax.
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Sunday, October 5, 2008
Fall is here already...
...and that really truly makes me sad. Here I was just getting used to the scorching heat of summer, the high humidity and wearing shorts and tank tops, but now, so suddenly, we have AUTUMN. There could be nothing to bum me out more than to tell me that it WILL get colder and I have to start wearing heavier and heavier jackets. Speaking of, how is it that, no matter how heavy your jacket is, you will still be cold outside? Even if you go off and spend $100+ on a really good winter jacket, you will still remain cold. I really don't understand. How does that work?
I really love autumn. Don't get me wrong, I love the colors of the trees changing from a crisp green to homely gold or orange, I just hate the weather. "Bring on global warming!" I say. But then someone told me it would actually get colder...so why is it called global warming? Sometimes I really wonder if people actually THINK before they SPEAK. No matter.
In addition to the beauty of autumn, I have to say, I was driving on some back roads today going home from Newport and the landscape was gorgeous. I don't think I have ever enjoyed a Sunday drive as much as I have this very day. I was in a daze until my consciousness caught up with me and told me I had to stop daydreaming and watch the road. Don't you hate when reality sets in? That happens to me a lot...
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So, today my mother and I went shopping. I really do love shopping, but I hate the fact that hard earned money has to go away. That's why my mom and I go out only when we really need to (especially now since the whole bad economy thing). Today our excursion brought us to Kohl's. We only ever go to Kohl's when mom gets a decent discount through the mail. I usually shop in the discounted sections. That way, I feel like I'm getting more for my money, and I usually do. I think my five items together was around $30. Trust me, if you've ever been to Kohl's you'll know right away that's a steal. After we made our way up to the check-out counter, and after using our 20% discount, we ended up saving the amount of a pair of shoes (from Kohl's). Going over to Wal-Mart, with all our coupons, we ended up saving yet another pair of shoes from Kohl's. I don't know about you, but I really do love shoes. I actually, just recently, bought a pair of shoes from Amazon.com for around $20 when, at other websites, they were going for $50+. I get this bargain-shopping trait from my grandparents. I don't think of it as being stingy, or penny-pinching. But then again, I do. I don't mind though, at least I'm getting more for my money. Hopefully, if the economy gets better, we won't have to be as stingy as we are now. I mean, little things that you rarely think about, like the price of a certain brand of toilet paper or laundry detergent, can really start adding up if you don't watch yourself. There's nothing wrong with going to the cheaper, store brand, it's really all the same product. I don't know, maybe that's just me?
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Saturday, October 4, 2008
Poetry plastic sack looks bleakly,
I remember when there was a time in my life that I really enjoyed writing and reading poetry. I don't know where those days have gone, but I really do miss them. There was a project in my seventh grade English class that sparked this interest. We had to create this illustrated book of poems, complete with bibliography. There were so many rules to this project, and at the time, my computer was not working, so I had quite a bit of trouble coming up with everything. I ended up working on the whole thing the day before it was due, mind you I was only twelve. I sifted through this book of poems my mother had gotten as part of a set of intelligent children's books. All the while, I just picked poems that interested me, drew a picture that I thought represented it best and tossed it into the pile. I had the most trouble finding a limmirick, I recall. I soon just made something up, drew a picture and allowed the glue to dry. I was really happy with my work of art, thought it was pretty good knowing all the hard work that had gone in to create it. I eventually got a B. I only bring this up because I recently found this book of poems. The pictures are actually really good, considering I was only twelve at the time. All of the poems, except for 3 I think, are written on notebook paper, center aligned.
Poetry, I believe is really quite beautiful, expressing any and every emotion known to man. And anyone can write it, that's the beauty of it. It doesn't even have to rhyme. Recently in English 101, we saw some clips from the poetry festival (sorry, I have forgotten what it is called) but I thought it was really interesting and wish that I can experience it for myself someday (sadly, times are tough and I haven't the time). I'm thinking of writing a poem for Poetry.com if they're still having contests. I've done it before and even was a semi-finalist. I like how poems don't have to rhyme, they can be abstract and make no sense, but someone will read it and think it's interesting and, like that guy who read that poem by Rumi, someone will even read it aloud for you. I find it amazing that it's so universal and yet so many people don't practice it. I'm sure if we all wrote a poem a day, one of them is bound to catch someone's eye enough that they would publish it into a book and you would become famous one way or another. I also think it's really cool that poetry can be put to music or said in different rhythms and, somehow, it still makes sense. So, in closing, here is a random poem I found:
gray rider overflows terribly,
drunken degeneration usurps hypocritically,
tribal entry defers abruptly,
foul vortex boils drolly,
ignominious party sighs thinly,
dark rider sucks dimly,
broken light defers drolly,
narcissistic corduroy sighs angrily,
sharp light usurps impersonally,
plastic entry looks bleakly,
drunken light sucks finally,
drunken concubine defies finally,
unhoped laundromat boils terribly,
tribal agitation capitulates completely,
sharp rider sucks irritably,
agnostic life nourishes caressingly,
traveled vein looks suggestively,
stout chivalry exhales uncomfortably,
dark party dies irritably
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Boredom (c) Kelsey Roberts, October 4, 2008
Oh boredom, how I hate you,
You with your nothingness and obsession to do something, but not having the drive to do it.
You make me mope around the house
Several, several times
And each time I find little more to do.
I seriously don't know how you do it;
How you can make it so that, out of 500 television channels, NOTHING is on,
How I can never find anything to do, despite the fact that I have a GREAT collection of video and board games,
How, despite all the friends I have, I can't HANG OUT with any of them.
You make me sick.
You make it so I have to find something to do.
But I never can.
I loathe how I must suffer this eternal headache, yet feel no pain.
How ironic is it that we can land a man on the moon, but we have no cure for boredom?
It is an illness that is brought on by nothing more than a Sunday afternoon with no plans,
A day that has already come to an end, but it is only 3 o' clock,
A time when one normally would be doing something, but is really doing absolutely nothing.
Boredom, I hate you.
If there was something I could do to slay you, I would.
If there was some drug I could take to stop you from coming back, I would, no matter the side effects.
Boredom, if you hear me, leave me alone.
But, then again, you're not so bad.
Because it was out of boredom that I wrote this poem.
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Thursday, October 2, 2008
I never went to daycare, but I do work at one. I am not quite sure if I would ever have wanted to go to a daycare. The people I knew in high school who actually did go to daycare were all the people that did poorly in school. Is there a correlation or statistic that shows that children who go to daycare tend to do poorly in school? There must be. I mean, someone has to wonder if their child will do better with their studies. I know, where I work, there really does not seem to be much learning done. Just a bunch of children wanting to play, pooping themselves, whining about the toy that someone took and bugging their teachers that they want something. To me, that is not the “Child Development Center” that is posted on the sign outside. That sounds like a place a parent can take their child to keep them out of their hair. In all seriousness, I do love my job. However, I do not feel it is fair to the parents to take their children to a building that proclaims it is a center of child development when there is no development. Perhaps a development of the body and manners (because I tell the children all the time to say “no thank you” whenever someone does something they do not like) but really not much else. There are also many rules at my place of employment. All the school-age children complain of boredom, due to the fact that there are only a few things they can actually play with at the school, while the toddlers have an array of fun, colorful toys at their disposal. Then again, when was life ever fair?
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Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Is it not odd that we as human beings need a said 8 hours of sleep in order to function at our most full attention? I just think it is silly. How can a normal human being even think to get 8 hours of sleep in this day and age? By going to bed earlier? Using sleeping pills? I tend to get to bed around 10PM and wake up at 4:45AM on the days I have school, and 8AM on the days I do not. However, even with this solid schedule of sleeping, I still remain ever tired and in need of more sleep. On those days that I do not acquire the right amount of sleep, I tend to be more hyper and awake. So, even while running on 2 hours of sleep, I seem like I have gotten 8. The human body is so amazing, yet so stupid. How is it that our entire day is based on how many hours of sleep? If the number is too low, we need more sleep, too high, you might feel a little achy in the morning. Throughout our lives, the hours of sleep we need dwindles. When we’re born, we need about 18 hours of sleep (and yet we still manage to wake up crying). When we’re older, we tend to only need about 6 hours of sleep. Why is that? Babies do not do anything all day. They just sit their, whine, cry, poop themselves, cry some more, eat, and sleep. I feel that, as a grown human being, that I should be allowed to get more sleep. But again, I would get nothing done. I guess the argument is pointless...
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Friday, September 26, 2008
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So I spent most of my morning looking over the three stories we were assigned, which was good because at about 5:00 this morning I decided there was no point in me going to my classes because I would be waiting a good hour and 45 minutes until my first class began. So commenced the reading...
The excerpt from the Harry Crews book was interesting. I like to read stories from not so long ago. It reminded me of the antics of my brother, my cousin and I as we played pranks on each other, had fun outdoors, in the pool; we never played video games because, at the time, my mother was only still single and hadn't the money for anything like that. But we amused ourselves any way we could.
The second story, by Eudora (can't remember) I found very easy to understand and liked the message she was portraying: be careful of what you hear from others, it's too hard to pick the lies from the truths. I found that very enlightening.
The last story, the article from our 2006 book, made me slightly sad, but allowed me to realize that the time we spend on Earth is REALLY short. I was only five at the time of my grandfather's death. But he was more a father figure to me than my step-father is now (Don't get me wrong; love my step-father, he's been around since I was 2 apparently. But he never was the kind of guy I could just...go to when I needed something. Nonetheless, I love him as MY father.) However, I can't remember a THING about my grandfather. I can, though, remember the day he died vividly. My family had taken a day trip to some island to see some eagle nests. When we got home (and my brother remembers this more than I do) my grandmother was hysterical, yelling "He's dead! He's dead!". The only thing I can remember is me seeing my dead grandfather with all his ventilator tubes, sitting in his wheelchair in the middle of the living room. I was bawling; I had lost my best friend.
Basically...life is short and then you die. That's all there is to it.
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