How to Survive Finals

Week Before Exam

Procrastinate
It is important to procrastinate for a couple of days before exams. Enjoy these free days by going out and having fun so when you are freaking out the night before you can take a breath and say to yourself “Man that party was awesome! It was so worth it.”

Stock up on Caffeine
You are going to need the extra boost of an energy drink to get you through you all nighters.

The Night Before the Exam

Find a good study area
Pick some place quiet where there are no distractions.

Focus
When you are cramming it is crucial to stay on task. Try not to get distracted with facebook or texting.

Take mental breaks
When you feel like your brain is getting to over whelmed, take a mental break. Try watching an episode of your favorite television show or snacking.

Nap
You need a little sleep.

Hour Before the Exam

Review
Top of mind recall is really helpful for acing a test. Scan over your study material and text.

Find a ride
Find a buddy to give you a ride to class so you can review on the way and so you won’t be late.

After the Exam

Don’t Worry
There is nothing you can do about it now so stop freaking out. Say a prayer and forget about it.

The Face

Piercing blue eyes, framed by bushy brown eyebrows.  Strong square jaw line covered with scruffy brown hair.  Long nose that goes perfectly to a point.  Pouty pink lips, each lip is equal size.  Square dimpled chin.  Smooth alabaster skin.  A crocked smile that brightens up the whole face. 

Having kids will bring you closer

Having kids will not bring you closer, I have a friend who stop takeing her birth control and told her boyfriend she was still on it. So about a month ago he gets a phone call from his auntie, "she said you got a baby on the way he said no." So he go home and ask your girlfriend is she pregant and all she could say is What. He asked her again she replyed with the same answer, then finally she said Yes. Didnt think you could have kids so i stop taking a birth control pills.
So my friends boyfriend is very upset and feel like she stop taking her pills so she could get pregant on purpose and get him to marry her. Since she was pregant with his child.

1977 Olympics

This art is famous because it meant so much to so many people around the world, the fist being in the air is a symbol of black power. Each portion of this picture is a symbol that represents more than itself. As stated before the fist raise is a symbol of black power, not pictured are the athlete’s feet, in which both runners are wearing nothing but black socks to symbolize the African American poverty in America. Tommie Smith, the gold medal winner is wearing a black scarf to symbolize black pride. John Carlos, the bronze medal winner is wearing his jacket unzipped to represent to blue collar workers of America and a necklace to symbolize all those tortured in the name of prejudice and racism. All three runners have the patch for the OPHR (Olympic Project for Human Rights) on their jackets. The OHPR was a committee who was put together to support all human rights, especially those in America. The OHPR originally tried to schedule a boycott of the Olympics but it didn’t work. The gloves on the hands of the gentlemen almost didn’t work either as Carlos had forgotten his gloves. The idea for Smith to lend Carlos his other glove, causing him to raise his left hand instead of the right hand normally raised came from Pete Norman, the Australian silver medalist in the picture. The International Olympic Committee (IOC) was outraged at the sight of this because, not only were the fists raised, and the heads were bowed, but all this was done during the singing of the “Star Spangled Banner.” IOC president Avery Brundage deemed a domestic political statement unfit for the apolitical, international forum the Olympic Games were supposed to be. In an immediate response to their actions, he ordered Smith and Carlos suspended from the U.S. team and banned from the Olympic Village. When the US Olympic Committee refused, Brundage threatened to ban the entire US track team. This threat led to the two athletes being expelled from the Games. A spokesperson for the organization said it was "a deliberate and violent breach of the fundamental principles of the Olympic spirit." Brundage, who was president of the United States Olympic Committee in 1936, had made no objections against Nazi salutes during the Berlin Olympics. The Nazi salute, being a national salute at the time, was accepted in a competition of nations, while the athletes' salute was not of a nation and so was considered unacceptable. In 2008, the official IOC website states that "Over and above winning medals, the black American athletes made names for themselves by an act of racial protest. Later, on a trip to South Africa, John Carlos remembers staying in a village were he needed a place to sleep, he was taken in by a poor family, he recalled looking on the wall and seeing the poster of himself and Tommie putting their fists into the air. He said he asked the family what that meant, they asked him if he had seen it before, he told them no. They began to tell him how the two men with their fists in the air were kings and that their actions were great. He was astonished that his actions during the Olympic Games had such a worldwide impact. It was later speculated that the men had had their medals taken away from them; Carlos denied the accusation and told reporters it was at his home with his mother. To rumors that the men did this for popularity, after the podium stance Tommie Smith is quoted saying, “If I win, I am American, not a black man. If I did something wrong I am a Negro. We are black and we are proud of being black. Black America will understand what we did tonight. To this day a staue of the men stands at San Jose State University were the men attended and ran track. My own feelings on the picture is that these men went into the Olympic games, against the World’s t best, in spite of being treated like less than men at home because of their skin color, and won the gold medal. I think it’s a picture that after you learn about African American history you can be proud to see no matter what color you are, and that it proved to the world, not just the Olympics, that all things are possible, no one can stop you from being on top, No one.

Six Little Words

All I am isn't set yet.

Acting is my drug of choice.

This heart didn't come with instructions.

I'm just trying to be myself.

Friends and family, all I need.

All you need is God's love.

Eat, sleep, dream.  Than you die.

Earliest Memories

It was really late, or so I thought, and I was lying in bed. I lived where you could smell freshly cut hay on a daily basis, chickens running in the yard and kids riding bikes down the dirt road. That night I couldn't hear anything just the sound of my breath and my little feet rustling under my blanket. I lived in a small two bedroom, one bath house that was white. It was so small that you could always hear every one's conversations. I go on laying there loving this peacefulness! Then it happened......I heard this terrible burst of screaming and crying. It wasn't my mother so it had to be HER....my new baby sister. I understand that I wanted someone to play with, but I didn't know what I was asking for. I loved to sleep and lay in the tranquility of my room, but SHE was interfering. I just didn't understand how a ten pound, brown haired, blue eyed baby could make so much noise......and this was the night that I asked my parents if we could take my new sister back to the hospital because I wanted to SLEEP!!!

The New House

There was a big hole in the ground. A really big hole.

It seemed to be as deep as the ocean. I was clinging to my dad's leg and peering over the edge. We were in the field where our future home would be. The field was covered in luscious green grass. The hole below me was dirt. Dark, brown, dirty earth.

We walked over to the area that would be our basement. It didn't look like a basement to me. Sure, I was only four, but it didn't look like a basement to me. It looked like a hole full of dirt.

We saw the cement trucks pulling in. They started dumping loads of mushy gray goo into the brown hole. My parents carefully explained that they would put this in first, then the walls, then the upper floors, and at the end we would have an entire house. Perhaps they could even build me a swing set in the back yard with the spare lumber.

The expansive sky drifted upward from the cow pastures surrounding our plot of land. In a few months there would be a house here, and a vegetable garden and a swing set in the back yard. My dad would have "shop" next to the house to store his lawn mower and everything that mom wouldn't let him keep in the garage.

But right now it just looked like a hole. A big, brown hole.


"Earliest Memory" exercise, Tell it Slant pg. 60

That bright shiny light....

Imagine this--you're enjoying a fantastic movie. You have your popcorn, your extra large cherry coke, and your friends. The movie is great. The CGI actually looks real, there are enough one-liners to make you snicker at the right times, and the eye candy on screen is fantastic! You are so caught up in a scene that you're almost emotional--and then you see it. Someone on the 2nd row decides they can't wait until the movie is over to break out their damn phone and text someone. REALLY!? What the FUCK?! Are you sooooooo important that you can't wait 2 damn hours to see who texts you? I mean c'mon, you're 14 years old for fuck's sake!!! Nothing in your life could POSSIBLY be important at this point! And you know what, you have just ruined my movie. Now all I can concentrate on is that blinding light and my building anger. I wish I had something to throw at you....I wish even if i did have something to throw, that I could ACTUALLY hit you! (i never was very good at sports!) It's not so much that you are on the phone, it's that you think you're important enough to distract everyone else in the theater with that tiny little light in such a dark place. If you're going to be on the phone, why couldn't you sit in the back of the theater as to not distract anyone...why the hell are you in the 2nd damn row!?!?! Like Miss Franklin says...R - E - S - P - E - C - T. Get some you little shits! And THAT is what irritates me :-)

Drafting process

When i sit down to write I always have 3 things.  My computer, my solitude, and my Ipod.  I always go to a spot in the library where i can sit alone because i think better when I'm not distracted by other people.  It really helps because if I'm around other people i'll become easily distracted and start talking.  I need my computer because my mind moves to fast to use a pen and paper.  I usually spend about 30 minutes just listening to music and brainstorming ideas that I could write about.  This is usually the hardest part for me, just getting going.  Some people find the music a distraction but I can get lost in it and just let my mind wander for a while.  This helps me a lot to relax and just let the ideas come naturally to me and not force a topic.  I'm usually listening to Third Eye Blind with some occasional Incubus.  Those are the perfect bands to write too because there not too soft to put you to sleep and there not to loud to mess up your train of thought.  Once i get an idea, i just start typing on my computer.  I usually just let it flow and don't stop to really think about it until I'm done.  Originally I'm just trying to get all my thoughts onto the page and this is why i can't use a pen and paper.  If I don't have my Ipod i usually get more distracted by how quite it is or by little sounds like people whispering, papers rustling, etc.  If i have to use a pen and paper I usually get a hand cramp from writing too fast and my brain is usually moving to fast for my hands to keep up.  When I sit around other people I can still get my work done I just need to plan on adding about an extra hour or two for the time spent being distracted or talking.  Overall as long as I have my three things, i can write all day.

Fairy Tales

Three fairies, golden maiden, spinning wheel!

Step-daughter, servant, glass slipper.....PRINCE CHARMING!!!

Seven dwarfs, poison apple....awaken kiss

Green tights, captain hook, crocodile clock

Belle and Beast. Castle, curse, mirror

Red cloak, forest....grandma's house...WOLF!!!!

Wild Kingdom

Sitting on the u-shaped couch, mostly with people I had never met before, the muted TV was playing scenes of elephants being shot by villagers. Myself and my female neighbor winced as we caught a glimpse.

"Oh gawd, I hate seeing that stuff."

"Oh! Me too."

"I usually turn the channel as fast as I can."

"I can watch people getting hurt but when it comes to animals..."

The man next to her says, "They showed this water buffalo being brought down by tigers. Once they had it down, one held onto its head while the others ate it and it was still alive."

She and I sat there quietly looking at this imbecile who obviously had no idea we were already in pain from the scenes on the tv.

He finished off , "The animal kingdom is way more brutal on itself than humans ever could be." 

Today, as I rounded the curve from north I-540 toward the NWA Mall, I had slowed to about 45 m.p.h. Off the right shoulder a hawk flew and seemed to hang right in front of my windshield. The moment stopped as he held his prize in front of me for me to see. In his claws was a plump field mouse, tail twitching quickly - then he flew away. Usually I can save the lives of mice and chipmunks, even snakes from my cats' death grip - but there was no way I could save this field mouse. I imagined, for a second, what was next for the little critter. 

Then I realized - the man is right. The animal kingdom IS more brutal on itself than humans ever could be. 

The Ontological Layer

Daughter, sister, friend, mentor, student, athlete, dreamer, believer, pretender, instigator, white, Irish, Hungarian, Texan, Razorback, Gymback, gymnast, hard-worker, aunt, lover, fighter, child, grownup, unique, individual, different, proud, stubborn, grounded, lost, looking, searching, finding, living, dreaming, breathing, thanking, love. Life.

My Earliest Memory

My mom yelled up the stairs for us to get down there. Now. By the tone of her voice it was evident someone had done something. Something she was clearly not pleased with. Evidently the problem at hand was that my mother had found hair all over our bathroom. Apparently someone had decided to take the initiative in cutting their own hair, and the evidence lay spread on the counter and floor of the bathroom. While no one was willing to confess, the topic was dropped. For now.

We made our way to gymnastics class. My mom, my sisters, Katie, Kelly, and me rode backseat of the car. Kelly turned to me and made a comment that spiraled out of control. "Molly's hair looks uneven." All of a sudden, to everyone in the car, my hair look insanely uneven, and I was placed with the blame of the hair cut mess. I knew it was Kelly who had done it. Not me. Operation Payback would begin soon enough.

We stood in the front hall way of the house, and Kelly began egging me on. Teasing me. Pestering me. So I did it. I took a huge bite. My teeth sank into the hand, and I bite down hard. Tears began to stream down. My mom came running. "Look at my hand!" I yelled. Kelly's face filled with utter confusion. "Kelly bit me!" Grounded- Kelly, that is. Who was wrongly blamed now? :)

Six Word Memoir

Family: Stick by each other through everything

Goals, Hopes, Dreams: So close but so far away

Work: More hours means more extra money

College: Couldn't survive it without my friends

Religion: Faith is the answer to everything

Love: Take one day at a time

Fairy Tale Memoir

"Lose your shoe. Find a Prince"

"Slay the dragon. Win her heart."

"I can show you the world!"

"Under the sea! Under the Sea!"

"Read a book. Marry a beast!"

"Prick your finger. Gets you kissed!'

Six Words

Family: Mother. Father. Brother. On BIG MESS!
Love: Ice cream cures all. Fall again....
Recreation: Rugby Chicks. Get'm while we're straight.
College: University of Arkansas? They wear shoes!?!?
Work: Feed, poop scoop. Feed. Get paid.
Recreation and college: Drink beer. Make friends. Good times!

Six Word Memoir

Family: the rock that keeps me strong
Work: is great if you love it
College: stressful fun chanlenging busy entertaining unique
The Arts: take you where you can't be
Goals, Hopes, Dreams: dont stop believing you can achieve
Recreation: shopping is always the cure all

Six Words

Love and sex: Two completely different things in relationships.

Goals, Hopes, Dreams: Seem too far out of reach.

College: No sleep, stress, want to graduate.

Work: Can't get anything without a job.

Family: Too stressful to think about now.

Arts: Could sit and stare all day.

Brain Teasers

Family - We put the 'fun' in dysfunctional.

Food - All I do is say "BAM!"

Religion/Spirituality - It's not Jesus; it's his fans.

College - It's a boner: long and hard.

Love and Sex - It hurts. It hurts. It's awesome.

Goals, Hopes, Dreams - I just want people to listen.

Six Word Memoir

Food- It is best when deep fried.

Love and Sex- What's love gotta do with it?

Future Family- One husband, healthy kids, long life.

Work- Nothing is longer than a 9-5.

College- Shortest four years of my life.

Family- Little sisters can be a pain.

six words

family: folks, thanks for the womb, sperm

work: now I finally find it relaxing

religion: keep believing believers. heaven needs lambs.

college: what did I get myself into?

goals: for what, per Ryan - the rapture

love and sex: too tired for either right now

6 Word Memoire

Family- Mom, Dad, Me, Jennie, Elle, Mary.
College-Do we have a test today?
Food- Sonic Value Menu saved my life.
Love- Through thick and thin, im here.
Work- All work and no play sucks.
Recreation- Pretty days spent in the hammock.

six word memoirs

Family- Always there through thick and thin.
Food- Yummy! In my Tummy! I'm Full!
Work- I Don't Know the word WORK!
College- Do You remember last night any?
Love and Sex- Love and Sex, two different experiences.
Goals, Hopes, and Dreams- Dream Big! Have Hope! Set Goals!

6-WORD-MEMOIRS

Family -- It is what you make it
Food -- A necessity often taken for granted
Work -- No one wants to, but does
Religion & Spirituality -- Can help humanity, can destroy it
College -- Biggest transition in a person's life
Love & Sex -- Sex means nothing, love means everything
The Arts -- Can be genius, but also bizarre
Goals, Hopes, Dreams -- Something everyone needs to obtain success
Recreation -- Fun no matter what the event
Food & Family -- The only time we're all together

Six Word Histories of the USA's Major Wars

No taxation! We win, tax ourselves.

America versus Britain. Best friends afterward?

South secedes, slaves freed, Abe immortalized.

World War, America enters fashionably late.

Germany gets angry again. America wins.

World war ends, one-uping begins.

Weapons of mass destruction? Whatever, George.

Six Words...

Family: Challenges, partner, children.
The best experience.

Food: Breakfast, lunch, snack,
dinner, dessert. Blessing!

Work: Way to survive.

Transforms the world.

Religion: Act that

guides us to God.

College: Knowledge, values,

customs, ways of acting.

Love and Sex: Feel, hear,

see with your partner.

The Arts: Activity where

humans express their ideas.

Goals: Not by accident.
All with purpose.

Recreation: Activities

that hurt are not recreational.

Food and Work:
No work, no food... no life.

Fairy Tale Memoir

1. 7 men and an apple...whore.
2. Glass stiletto heels capture true love.
3. Half a fish wanting a kiss!
4. A sleeping rose defended by evil.
5. The hairy beast wants some lovin’!!
6. A lady sleeping on a vegetable.

Random

My father not beening in my life still has me angry today. When i was two my parents were together, and father took care of me because he was with my mother. As soon as there relationship began to fade away my father kicked me out the picture. How can a father do there child like this. My father has a total of 16 kids that he has never took care of any of them. So as i look over my life and try to reach out and find my brothers and sisters. I sit around think how could someone have this many kids and dont take care of them.

So i ask my father to give me my brothers and sister number so we can meet each other. He wouldnt give me any of there numbers. I found out i had a brother that worked at burger king, so i went there to ask for him. His name was May "I said is Ram your father, he said why, I told him that was my dad and we were brothers and sisters. So from that day on we stayed in touch. Then come to find out i had a sister that had the same mother as May, so i got a chance to meet my sister. We are very close i think it is a blessing i got to meet her, I will be walking in her wedding on June 6,2009. I pray that i will countinue to find my brother and sisters.

Random Blog - Donna

Watching Donna die was difficult. She had been slipping for a few weeks - wasting my petrol everytime I drove frantically home to check on her. And home is never on the way. She just looked at me in my panic and meowed.

Finally, after sucking all the juice out of every can of cat food in the house, she started to stop. I sat all huddled with her under the shelf, a place she had chosen to be her deathbed. I rubbed her furry little declawed paws - paws she would never let me touch before. Not my doing! She came to me at nine years old, after a family had a baby and didn't want her. She came declawed and bitter. I gave her the first glimpse of the outdoors. She loved it. She loved the sunshine on her silver fur.

"You meant something to me, you know," I said through a veil of endless tears. Just then, one quick clap of thunder from the storm outdoors and she was gone. It took her body a while to die and my lover managed to get me through the morbid moments by explaining every swallow, every twitch, jerk and seizure. "Her lungs are filling with fluid so she tries to swallow..."

The rain stopped and in a few minutes, her body did too. I examined her closely to "make sure". Tightly wrapped in my Pensecola beach towel, I walked with her close to me through the muddy lawn while my lover held the flashlight behind me. We travelled to the hole I had du several days early - in anticipation for this moment. The toil of slinging mucky mud on top of her, followed by large stones (to keep digging varmints away) ended with me on my knees, in sobs. For some damn cat. Some mean, bitch-slapping cat who meant something to me. 

6 Six Word Memoires

Family: Dependable, there in time of need.

Food: Comfort, Nourishing, Yummy in my tummy.

Work: Multi-task. Phone. Email. Smile. Copy. Rush.

College: Time. Study. Papers. Stress. Complicated. Graduation.

Religion: Patience. Love. Kindness. Faithfulness. Unconditional. Steadfast.

Goals: Bachelors. Masters. Job. Home. Husband. Babies.

Six Word Memoirs

Family:
Four close people intertwined into one!
Food:
Cheeseburgers, Fries, yumm.....Chocolate shake too!
Work:
Smell like food when I leave!
College:
School Spirit! Red and White, Razorback!
Love and Sex:
Intimate Relationship...Sacred, Spiritual, and Closeness!

EOSC

The sonic picture brought up a lot of memories at first, to what i like to eat, a cheeseburger with french fries and a dr.pepper, to the junior college i went to. I went to Eastern Oklahoma State College (EOSC) in Wilburton, Ok. I started in 2005 and graduated in 2007. It is a small whole in the wall town. There isn't much to do. Seriously, my first year there they were just putting in a McDonald's and it was the best thing since slice bread.
I have a lot of great memories there, but the ones that i hold dear to my heart are the late nights of being upset because i missed my family or boyfriend and my two good friends would take me to Sonic to get me ice cream and go talk. We always had a blast because you could never be in a bad mood at Sonic because you would always run into everyone. You would start talking to your schoolmates and completely forget about the problems you might be having. I know that this is odd and out of place, but it is something that i enjoyed. I will never be able to eat another oreo blast without thinking of the little town and school i loved!

Six word summaries of fairy tales

Evil stepsisters never get the guy.
Fuzzy and an asshole, until her.
One woman, seven guys, one prince.
Little prick, naptime, big sexy kiss.
So many frogs, not one prince.
Magic carpet ride--bum becomes sultan.

SIX SIX Memoirs

Food: Work today, No time to Eat!
Work: That damn kid, escaped last night!
Religion and Spirituality: Stay prayed up, God got back!
College: School today, No time for rest!
Love and Sex: No time for Boyfriend! Stay focused!
Goals, Hopes, Dreams: School will pay off? One Day!

Why does it have to be so complicated?

The character of Bella in Twilight describes a first love perfectly. She is so in love with Edward instantly. I remember this was what my first love was like. In some aspects her character is relate able, she chooses to be irrational when it comes to her first love but then whenever she first makes her decision to live her dad, the mature adult comes out. The books have so many dedicated readers that live vicariously through her character.
Bella is a complex character so many girls look up to or for that matter wish they were. When reading these books, I completely understood her feelings. Even though vampires aren't real, reading the books from her perspective makes people feel like there is such a thing as love at first sight or immediate attraction.
I really liked her character to begin with, but I later realized she allows herself to get so wrapped up in this world that she doesn't fit in, and it sort of made me frustrated. But then again, who didn't let themselves get in the same position when they had their first love. Her view of her life is the least important thing to her especially in the last two books, and it made me wonder how girls would relate to this once they realized she would give anything to be "immortal." Some people found her to be a disgrace to women because they considered her character to allow a somewhat obsessive relationship.
I think Stephenie Meyer really just wrote to entertain, not enrage readers about Bella, even though it seems her character has created much controversy in some peoples minds.

A Lesson Before Dying

When I was in high school AP English we had to read the book, A Lesson Before Dying, over the summer. I was not excited that this book would be cutting into my summer fun. As I began to read, I could not put the book down. It is still my favorite book. The story is about an African American man in Louisiana that is accused of a murder that he did not commit. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. In court his lawyer claims that he is nothing more than a hog and can not be held accountable for his crime. He is convicted and sentenced to death. His mother wants him to know he is a man before he dies. She convinces a local man that is educated to teach him about dignity. Both of the men grow as the teach each other and learn. In the beginning the young man sentenced to death thought he was nothing better than a hog, but on the day of his execution they said he was the bravest man in the room. I think this book meant so much to me because it showed me just how one sided people can be. It also showed me that with all the bad there is good. Even though the young man died, he died with dignity and inspired many others. It also shows that you can learn from anyone and that sometimes when you go to teach you also learn. Life is all about lesson and it is never too late to make a difference. Everyday of life is just another lesson.

My first dog

Gunner is my two year old chocolate lab.I got Gunner from my ex-boyfriend my sophomore year at Ole Miss. I was so excited to get this dog. I had his food and kennel bought before i even got the dog. We were so happy to bring him home. I took him to the lake, he loved the water. He also go all dirty and rolled in the mud. Gunner got to live in the fraternity house with my boyfriend of that time and his female lab. He had the best life a dog could have. My parents were not to happy when they found out i got a dog. My roommate and i both had big dogs. I love my lab. He is was a good puppy. I never thought about giving him away till the other week, when he chewed my car seat. I walked outside to my car to let my dog out and there was a hole in my seat. I told my parents i had to find a home for Gunner. They were ok with my choice. We found a home for him in a different state. The reality started to set in, i could not give my dog away. He does nothing but keep wattch over me and my house. He is in love with me. He will give me a hug and has to be close to me all the time. I started to cry and told my mom, i was going to keep Gunner. After i thoguht about it, i was not giving Gunner up to anyone. He means more to me then i thought, he is my world. Everyday I wake up, and am so happy i still have my baby. He is like my best friend! He is always there for me to talk to if i need anything. I love my chocolate lab.

Die Vampire Scum!!!

Buffy the vampire slayer--no, not the Kristy Swanson one...the one with Sarah Michelle Gellar..yeah, that one! For many people, Buffy was a far fetched attempt at a teen series. However, for a few of us, Buffy was life. Not only did it deal with the issues of our times (deep and meaningful high school relationships that we thought would last forever) but it dealt with so much more. Many books were actually written comparing buffy to the struggles of teens and females alike. How could someone actually see a girl in a leading role kicking some zombie ass!?! The issues of love, heartbreak, and death were apparent in every episode. In fact, tv guide listed this show as one of the top 100 television shows in history...kinda cool huh...especially how it was based off a box office bomb! The show was on for 7 seasons, each dealing with a new year in the life of Buffy Somers and her friends, the scoobie gang. Each season, a new aspect was added to the already complex show: death of a mother, homosexuality, a trouble making little sister. Life was never easy for the buffy gang, but then again, it only echoed the troubles that many people watching the show dealt with on a regular basis. For some, it was a stupid, unrealistic, demonic show that lacked character--but for a lucky few, it represented many things in life that other shows were afraid to tackle. I applaud you, Joss Whedon, you got back on the horse after Kristy knocked you off and got yourself nominated for emmy after emmy for portraying the issues of society in a way that was not only fun to watch, but a drug to us growing up at that time.

Brainstorming. I’m searching for skills. “What are you good at?”

The question repeats itself. I can’t concentrate.

What I’m good at and what I do are different things. What I need to be doing is a different thing entirely. I need to be working on the Hall Diversity Program. I have some ideas to run with, but I need Jason to design them on the computer since he is so much better with technology than I am. I need Alicia to get a list of stores together, since she enjoys shopping so much more than me. I have a meeting with Maria, who knows so much more about diversity education.
Yeah, everybody has got their skill. And here I am trying to write about mine when I should be meeting with them to use their skills for my program.

It hits me.

My skill is realizing other peoples’ skills. Further yet, I am good at getting them to use those skills for things I need to get done. I am a delegator. I know what I want and need, find the person who can do that thing well, and then I get them to do it for me in the way I want.
I guess that may be seen as bossy, but I have never gotten told that. Instead, people seem to be excited about using their skills. People enjoy having a purpose; when there is an event that requires everybody’s efforts, but certain people don’t know how to contribute, they seem thankful being asked to do a poster or make a list.

I help people identify their skills.
I create opportunities for using those skills.
I…sort of….give people a purpose. Everybody wants to feel important, which I help to happen. As a result, I feel satisfied in the success of the event.
I am great at delegating.
Maybe I should move to Cuba.

High School Football

Friday night lights seem to produce more than just a stupid group of testosterone padded individuals. High school football has a tendency to act more like an epic battle. On Friday nights, the team rallies together to take down the competition. Just as soon as the game gear goes on it seems that everyone loses all thoughts of petty drama and become united as one. All the macho guys begin to push each other around anticipating the game to come and doing their best to get everyone pumped up. All of us in the student section as well as the rest of the fans rally together to cheer on our boys in the trenches. Both sides try to intimidate each other making the stands sound like one big “thunder dome.” The school colors begin to act as war paint for the soldiers going into combat. The football gear becomes the armor for those going into battle. When the team comes out of the field house they are ready to go to war and protect the honor of their country, Lonoke High School. They burst through the paper banner, painted with “Whoop the Wildcats,” as one unit, running through the cheerleaders and band to the center of the field to yelling out their war cries. Throughout the game every time a player makes a good play the rest are there to give him praise. After victory or defeat the team celebrates or hurts together relying on each other for support. The team leaves the field battered, bruised, and bleeding after giving it their all out on the battle ground.

The Diner

"Nighthawks." That's the name of the painting. It seems appropriate. It reminds me of college students, late at night. Awake, but barely so. Drained from writing papers. Trickling in and out of the all-night breakfast joints.

Nighthawks was painted in 1942 by Edward Hopper. Immediately after Pearl Harbor. It seems to be an accurate representation of human existence after tragedy: everything is distant, vacant, empty. We can't communicate, we can't socialize. We can only sit silently and wonder why it happened.

So why do we love the painting? Why is it famous? Why are prints of it so common?

Perhaps it brings comfort, when we are separated and apart. When we can't seem to connect, to understand what's going on. This painting makes us remember that others experience this too; it isn't just us.

Diego Rivera

When I speak of Diego Rivera as the creator of the Mexican identity, I speak of the creation of my own identity.

The murals of Rivera had created in me a visual memory of the history of Mexico and have helped me to understand and respect my nationality. For me, the history of Mexico is full of living images...full of Diego Rivera. Besides images, my memories are accompanied by feelings of grief, honor, pride and magic that come straight from the emotions represented in the murals. Thanks to the muralist Diego Rivera I can easily relive the history of Mexico.

Rivera was commissioned to recreate the past to remind us of our Mexican roots. His life, however, has not been remembered in the same way. There are biographies written of him and one or two portraits of him. But the life of Diego Rivera was not made of words but of images.

Diego Rivera is considered the father of Mexican mural art in Mexico along with politician Guadalupe Posada. Posada started to break the barrier between government and people doing political satire in his drawings. Diego reinterpreted the history from a nationalistic revolutionary point of view.

More than any other artist, Diego Rivera offered models to incorporate cultural past and ethnic identity in a more modern alternative ways to promote a merger responsible for the social and the aesthetic. Diego was a very important part in the artistic world of the twentieth century and his ideas were well respected in the artistic community. Rivera was an innovative artist because he united the art with his political views creating a social message.

Atlas in Greek mythology is a titan, groups that came before Olympians, but were defeated by the Olympians. Atlas is thought to be holding up the weight of the World, actually this is inaccurate. When the titans were banished Atlas damned to hold up the sky and keep it separated from the earth titan Gaia, because the two were in love. In American Culture as to me Atlas is burdened to hold an unbearable weight, as many of us are. Our weight is usually in the form of a secret, whether it is our own or that of a friend we will always have this massive weight on our shoulders. It can also come in the form of stress, when we stress about school, family, frustrations, etc…it can feel like we are being weighted down. Atlas should not only be thought of the weight that we can’t bare, but the weight that we would gladly bare so that others might not have to. Yes he was damned to carry this weight, but he does so diligently and unwavering; even though the weight brings him to one knee, he does not drop it, he does not complain, he presses on and perseveres. Perseverance is defined by Webster’s as to persist in anything undertaken; maintain a purpose in spite of difficulty, obstacles, or discouragement; continue steadfastly. This is exactly what Atlas personifies.

First Black President

This picture is a the first painting that came out in the newspapers and on magzine that was announceing the first black president. This picture made me think back to when Rose Parks sat at the front of the bus to open up opportuinties for us, and Martin Luther King Jr fought for our freedom. It open up doors for Obama to run for preseident. Now we have the 1st black president. This picture is in many of families home and they have framed this picture.
It is a beatuiful picture and history in the making.

Paint-By-Number

My grandma had 2 paintings in her house I was particularly fond of. They were paint-by-number and done by my aunt in the early 60's. They are stiff and don't have glass in the frames, yet they have no nicks. The walls in Mama's house were plaster - thus the paintings never moved. I have those paintings in my house now. I look at them often, with great respect. And I freely move them about...from nail to nail. 

Scream

The Scream was painted in 1893 by Edvard Munch. When asked why he had been inspired to paint it Edvard responded that one evening he was walking at sunset with two of his friends when suddenly it seemed like “nature was screaming in (his) blood.” He admitted that for a few years he had almost gone mad and during the time he painted the scream he had been “stretched to the limits.” Although The Scream s terrifying I think it is popular because people can relate to it. Whenever a person is going through a personal crisis they see and feel their emotions in the things around them. When people split up with their girlfriend or boyfriend and they hear a break-up song on the radio they automatically relate. The Scream is the visual representation of pain and people automatically assume the subject of the picture is experiencing their pain or at least can relate to their pain in some ways. The bright reds and oranges clash with the dark browns and blues, creating a sense of conflict deep within the inner-self. The swirling and twirling of the sky and the river create a sense of panic and chaos and the screaming man seems to be the only one aware of nature’s madness.
. Whenever I look at it I always wonder why he is screaming. I try to turn away but I can't because The Scream, like any good horror movie, frightens me into wanting more. It radiates horror. The churning skies make me dizzy and I have to fight the urge to jump into the painting and pull the man back into reality, into sanity.

Bella knew she would never be good enough for the Cullen boy who held such perfection in his stance, style, and overall demeanor. She realized her insignificance in the situation. She had acknowledged it many times before that she deemed less a beauty and less a catch than other girls in her class. With Edward though, she remained unable to erase him from her mind and move on with her life. She felt his stares, and held great intrigue for this boy that seemed different from the rest. He enticed her, and she envied him. It was a situation that Bella had never experienced, and feelings she has never felt. Bella desired to know more of him, yet she feels insignifant to his flawless being.

He was the envy of all the freshman girls. Tan, muscular, and a personality that made every girl like him and every guy curious to how he did it. I had never seen him as more than a friend. To me the charm every girl saw was just goofiness and the hot body was simply the fact that he was in good shape. Then one day he asked me, "Molly, what are you going tonight?" It wasn't until he repeated the question with a litte something else in his voice that I realized his intentions. Hesitant at first I accepted his request to hang out as something more than just friends. Things evolved but eventually faded, and I was like feeling as Bella had felt. Insignificant and wanting something unattainable. A relatable character, conveyed in so many different story settings, Bella embodies the feelings of want, heartbreak, and love all in one.

Mona Lisa

The Mona Lisa a famous portrait of Leonardo De Vinci. Many people have a replica of the Mona Lisa in their house. This is a famous piece among many people. Leonardo did not finish this piece all at once. When I look at this portrait I do not see why anyone painted this. The colors are dull and are not appealing to my eye.It it depressing in my opinion. I would not want a picture of a lady in my house. My senior year of high school, I went to Pairs. We got to see the Mona Lisa. We had to wait in a long line for about 30 minutes. When I finally got to the Mona Lisa, I was very disappointed. My thoughts were the Mona Lisa was a large portrait. This was a surprise because it was so small. The portrait was not what i thought. I do not see why the Mona Lisa is famous. I think a lot of people like this portrait because a friend or someone likes it. I think people like Leonardo De Vinci not so much his work. This is one of those situtions where if a famouse person had it, we have to have it. This made the Mona Lisa become so famous. After seeing the Mona Liza in person, it is not an investment i will ever make.

America's Past Time

Staying loose is a very key necessity in this game. The dress is very formal for a sport. Full uniforms with belts and different colors. Some of the colors are bright and vary according to a particular mascot, others are simple white and gray colors with stripes. Metal cleats are needed to dig into the dirt as runners round the bases. The cleats give traction on the solid, sometimes slippery ground. A hat is required on the field and a helmet is needed to set foot in the batter's box. The game is decided by balls and strikes, offense and defense.

The rituals for the players and coaches are extreme. Some fans are as dedicated to the rituals, if not more, as many of the coaches and players. Many have their own routine. Some eat certain meals, listen to certain music, or pass around signature hand-shakes to other team-mates. Some even purposely do different activities if they're in a slump or had a bad game. The rituals vary greatly and have only evolved and expanded throughout the years, and there have been many.

The rules of the game are very classical and formal. The game has changed slowly as technology has evolved, but the game is insistent on sticking to its roots. The rules are nearly perfect and in my opinion took a genius to develop the rules and fundamentals of the game.

Many people would argue that America's past-time is boring. Some people have said, "There just isn't as much action as football or basketball." This is true, but it is a harder sport to play than those two. Baseball is not as physical as football or basketball, although basketball isn't very physical at all, but how many people do you know that can hit a 95 mph fastball? Or an 85 mph curveball for that matter.

Football and basketball take a lot of practice and dedication, but you have to be born with many physical advantages to play the game at the collegiate or professional level. You have to have height, speed, strength and coordination to play the game. Baseball takes these qualities as well, but the practice it takes get to the collegiate or professional level is extreme. The great thing about it is that anyone with some athleticism can do it if they do the work, but few are capable of such a task.

David Eckstein is a 5'7, 175 pound MVP of the 2006 World Series. What other sport could he achieve such a feat? Other than golf. Another example would be the 2008 American League MVP Dustin Pedroia, who is slightly bigger than Eckstein at 5'8, 180 pounds. I could go on and on but I believe I've made my point. It isn't their size or strength that make them great, it's the hard wok and dedication the two of them possess that have turned them into playmakers.

America's past-time is great because anyone can play it. It broke the color barrier in sports, helped the country get through World Wars, as well as the Great Depression, and is played throughout country fields, city streets, and third-world countries. People find a way to play the game. Whether it's a traditional ball and bat, or a stick and boucy-ball. People have played and watched the game for more than 100 years, and even though the game has been tainted in recent years, beaseball and its fans will find a way to get through it and make it great again.

Starry Night

"Starry Night" is Van Gogh's most sought after and replicated painting. People have based songs, and other merchandise on this painting. It's difficult to shy away from it. Van Gogh painted "Starry Night" while in an asylum in Saint-Remy in 1889. Some believe they 11 stars are a religious reference to the verse Gensis 37:9. Whether it reflects a religious reference, Van Gogh based other paintings on the stars and night. People can relate to this painting because people feel comfortable and at ease. The sky keeps the viewers eyes moving with the swirls of the clouds and the stars. The movement keeps the onlooker involved, while other factors take hold.

.....is like....

Hope is like holding on to a cloud. While you are laying there on the roof, on a bright sunny day, you may think you could almost touch one. Even though you may not be able to, you hold on tight to the idea that you can. So you day dream, about grabbing on to that cloud, and flying away on it. Hope is what propels us to the next day, the next big thing, the next place in our lives. Hope is what keeps us going through the monotonous tones of everyday life.

Relief is like having a weight lifted off your shoulders. Relief is when you were younger diving down for that dive stick. Even though you got a big breath right before you dove in, you know you can't hold your breath any longer. So you are swimming as hard as you can to the bottom, you grab the dive stick, and touch the bottom with your feet. You push off as hard as you can! When you reach the surface you gasp for air. So relieved that you made it to the top for that breath of life.

Jealousy is like clinging to your neighbors mailbox. You see that they have the perfect car, perfect house, and perfect family. You watch from the outside because you can see that what they have is exactly what you want. You are jealous of their perfect red Mercedes, their 3 small little children that hunt Easter eggs in the yard, and you wish that your house had french doors and green shutters. So, you stand there clinging to their mailbox. The exterior of everything they have. The mailbox is at the end of the driveway, so far away from what they own, but close enough to just get a glimpse of the "perfect life."

hope is a fat guy

Hope is a fat guy standing in front of a salad bar. He dreams of the day his waist is back to normal. The tomatoes and carrots are his instrumens of obtaining his desire--the ladders he must climb--the hill he must run up. But he's determined. The bacon bits and creamy ranch are his pitfalls. The Big and Tall store will be a distant memory if he can just eat that first bite.

Longing is a lightbulb. Full of bright burning energy, but trapped within a delicate casing. If the glass is broken and it can escape, everything goes dark. No matter how badly it wants to explore the world outside the fragile glass, it would be doomed to failure.

Jealousy is cauliflower. It's just as good as broccoli, but no one wants to eat it. It sits there on the salad bar and thinks, "i taste just as good, i'm prettier, and i won't get caught in your teeth--why the hell won't you pick me?!" It just sits there glaring at the broccoli--everyone's favorite--and dreams of the day it can grow legs or be able to go kick broccoli's ass. It dreams of being the lone vegetable on the fat guy's salad, yet no matter how hard it tries, it just can't be seen as good as broccoli. It sits there...green eh white with envy.

On Belay

Rock climbing is completely different from any other sport out there. Many people think that climbing is dangerous and stupid to do. The truth of the matter is that rock climbing has it’s inherit risks, but there are many ways to limit the danger of injury. Climbing is as safe as you make it. Whoever chooses to climb carries the responsibility to make it as safe as possible for ones self as well as other people. There are not any “rules” in the traditional sports sense; no referee or score keeper in rock climbing. There is more just safety precautions and etiquette to remember. When you’re on the rock, be mindful of other climbers and be respectful of them as well as the land. I can’t tell you how irritating it is to come up to a spot and have trash all over the place and to have annoying people blabbering on about stupid things. Climbing is unique in that you are not usually competing with any one else or against another team. Its just you verses the rock. You are always trying to out do your last climb. It is a test against ones self to push your limits to the up most. The motion of a climber is also unique. It can be as graceful as a ballet dancer, or it can be filled with grunts and spastic lunges to small holds. Climbing is a real testament to the wonder of the human body. It is always amazing to think about the fact people practically stick to the wall on holds smaller than the width of a pencil.
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The Cafe Terrace on the Place du Forum, Arles, France, At Night

"Cafe Terrace at Night" is a painting by Van Gogh of a coffee shop in France. He painted it in September, 1888. Van Gogh is widely known for his painting "Starry Night". "Cafe Terrece at Night" is the first painting in which he used the starry background in the night sky. Visitors in Arles, France can still visit the site where Van Gogh sat with his easel to paint this picture. I have always wanted to visit France, ever since I was a child, so I love any artwork that portrays it. "Cafe Terrace at Night" has warm, inviting colors that make me wish I could be sitting at the little coffee shop myself in 1888. I love to look at this painting and imagine what the coffee shop is like inside and the French people having conversation over coffee under a beautiful starry sky. It provides a sense of serenity, as if you would have no worries if you were there. Van Gogh is famous for many of his paintings, but "Cafe Terrace at Night" is one of my favorites.

All is Fair in Love and War

Love is like a roller coaster it has it’s high and it’s lows. The ride can take you as high as Mtn. Everest then in a mila second send you plummeting back to earth like a skydiver without a parachute.

Anger is like the calm before the storm. It builds and builds until it finally releases all of its fury in one ferocious action. Like the eye of a hurricane the source of the anger swirls around the problem creating fear and havoc all around it.

Jealousy is like a wicker candle it will burn and stay aglow but can eventually tip over and burn down everything around it. Jealous revenge can start with a simple bee sting but over time it can fester into many stings which can prove to be fatal.

All The Worlds A Stage

I have been acting all my life.  Although I have only been acting on stage since I was in kindergarden, I have in someway or another acted everyday of my life, whether it is covering up my true feelings about a situation or trying to make someone laugh, I am acting.  

My stage debut was when I was 5 in my church's annual Easter drama and that is where I fell in love with the thrill of being on stage, all eyes on you.

You know when you purposely say something a certain way or do something because you know that it is going to affect someone, you are acting.  Everything we say and do we do it for a purpose, although we might not be completely aware of it, we are acting.  As babies we figure out how to manipulate our parents to get what we want; we cry just because we know that we can get what we want by doing it.  We are all actors.

When I am on stage I can be someone different.  I can escape my problems, be free of my personal struggles, I am no longer bound by my fears.  I have new problems and new struggles that are my characters; sometimes they are worse than mine sometimes they aren't, but when I am that new person, no matter how hard it is, I love it.  

Whether I am on stage or just living my life, I am an actor.  

"All the worlds a stage, and all the men and women merely players."

-Shakespeare 

Emotions are Weird

Happiness is taking a shot. It is something most people love. It’s something you usually take part in with other people. Happiness is found easily. And it doesn't take a huge amount to satisfy people.

Jealousy is a germ. Jealousy is something you know is there but you try to ignore it or overlook it. Jealousy is often small but when someone is extremely jealous, it creates a sickness inside them. Jealousy is everyday and everywhere. People deny their jealousy.

Anger is a high heel. Things start out looking smooth and then something sharp and quick happens. Anger is impossible to ignore. Anger can last five minutes, or it can last all day. It comes in a variety of intensities, or colors.

Mickey Mouse

Mickey Mouse is a household name and creates an image of wonder and imagination. He is the face of the “most magical place on earth,” Disney World. As a child everyone dreams of Disney World and meeting Mickey Mouse. I think he represents that fun and the dreams that every child wants to experience. The whole Disney experience and especially Mickey Mouse seems so big and wonderful to a little kid. I have always enjoyed Mickey Mouse, but being a girl, also Minnie Mouse. I remember my first trip to Disney World and the excitement I felt meeting Mickey and Minnie. I was overcome with joy. I still have my autograph book with their signatures. I don’t think I took the infamous Mickey ears off for a month after my trip to Disney World. Even now that I am older the character still brings out the child in me. Mickey represents a world that is full of magic and wonder; and I think that is why he is appealing to so many. I think Mickey takes you away from reality into a world that is unlike any other. As a child, living in such a magical world is the greatest thing ever. As I got older and learned the real story of Mickey and the Disney world, I have an even greater respect for what Mickey represents. It is also exciting to see that excitement you had in other generations. My family will be taking my brother's little boys to Disney World and I am really exicted to see how they react. It is nice to see the innocence of little kids in such a wonderful enviroment. They get excited just talking about it. It is funny how such little things mean so much when you are a kid.

Dodgeball

Powerlessness is a bouncing ball. Whenever power is needed, the ball is thrown so it can explode and give combustible energy to its owner. But lately, this ball has been caught by the pro-dodge ball player, vengeance. Vengeance is swifter than powerlessness and much more difficult to control. Nobody can just junk him around a court and expect to not receive injury. During the dodge ball game, powerlessness always loses, even when it wins. It blames the victory on the team, not his aerodynamics. After a loss, powerlessness takes responsibility for not being bouncy or hard enough when thrown.

Vengeance, however, is far different. He is always willing to play hard ball. Vengeance never feels afraid; he is blinded by victory. It is all about the win for him, and he will do whatever he can to take down his opponent.

It is belief that unites and balances the two during a rough game. Belief, the elementary school teacher, can see the potential for vengeance to improve his abilities by protecting powerlessness. She sees how he could blossom into positivity. But powerlessness must be retained instead of hurled at the opposing team. It is all about the game plan that will help vengeance and powerlessness create victory.




Belief does what she can to keep powerlessness aired up while keeping vengeance from giving bruises to teammates.

Elementary, my dear Watson

I grew up enveloped in the world of Sherlock Holmes. I loved the stories of murder, mystery, and deception. I read about Irene Adler, Inspector Lestrade, and Professor Moriarty. I loved following Holmes through the investigation; he never seemed to be getting anywhere, but he always extracted complex secrets out of the tiny flake of dirt found 50 feet away from the body and solved the crime in half and hour.

Sherlock Holmes is the first real superhero. His powers of observation and deduction are beyond human comprehension. Surely he got electrocuted in his basement or bitten by a spider or something too? But, unlike Spiderman and such, he seems to be the perfect role model: inquisitive, observant, and educated. The perfect hero, right? Wrong.

For example, did you know that Sherlock Holmes was a cocaine addict? It's true. In at least one of Arthur Conan Doyle's short stories, Watson has to descend into a smoky drug den and drag Holmes (still under the influence) out to get him to talk to a client.

But Sherlock Holmes is the epitome of education and knowledge, right? Wrong, perhaps. Sure, Holmes knows everything about certain specialized subjects, such as medicine, chemistry, and distinguishing between various brands of tobacco. But when Watson first meets Holmes, Watson is amazed that Holmes doesn't know that the earth revolves around the sun. It's true, look it up.

But, no matter what else may be immaginations of our cultural memory, Holmes definitely said "Elementary, my dear Watson," right? Wrong. He never said it. The closest he ever came was the simple reply "Elementary!" And he only said it once.

Does this mean that we should abandon Sherlock Holmes as a cultural hero? No. To me, this is precisely the allure of the Sherlockian myth: that a man could have near-debilitating faults, but still be astounding at another task. Isn't being a real hero all about overcoming the odds anyway?

My guitar and Me

I was about 8 years old when I started to play the guitar. At first it was like a game. All I wanted to do was to play the guitar. Later I saw it as an opportunity.

When I learned the skill, I also learned a different way to see the world.

Music has had a positive effect in my life. After I started to play the guitar, people started looking at me differently. I was not longer Magdalena...I was now Magdalena the only girl in town who knew how to play the guitar.

Suddenly I was almost in every party, wedding or funeral. I guess that 's where my personal life went invisible. It didn't bother me...I was now the singer...I was not longer a regular or invisible person. I was now part of people's lives. I was there participating in many different stages of their lives, with my music.

Throughout the years I've learned that nothing happens by causality. I believe that there is a reason for everything. Now that I"m not longer living in my native town, I still value the great opportunity I had to enjoy many lives with my music. That feels good!!!

I sat there in the dark attempting to study my notes. No success. None. Zip. Zero. Zip. Surprising? Not really. Bright idea, Molly. Turn on the light. What a concept. A lit room would probably make studying slightly easier. Just slightly. Can’t roommate is sleeping. Wow, this really sucks. Honestly, how am I expected to study anything in the dark? Maybe I can just explain to my teachers. Sorry professors, roommate was sleeping. No light-couldn’t study or complete my assignments. I’m sure they would totally understand. No problem Molly. Just get the assignments in at your convenience. You are the light of our lives, take your time. Ha. Not likely. That seems, hmm…, just about as probable as me making an A while studying in the dark.
Alternatives. Burn a candle. There is some light. Can’t. Fire hazard. Safety issue. Blah. Blah. Blah. Times like these make me love living in the dorms. Flashlight. Batteries are burnt out. They don’t last nearly as long as light bulbs.
My whole thought process on light bulbs gets me thinkin about my dad's theory on boys and light switches. His very deeep thinking (ha) on boys goes something like this. "Molly, boys are like light switches. They are always turned on, but you can turn them off." Wow, Dad. Thanks for that. Getting back on track though. My study habits are bad enough with my horrible attention span, and deleting my light source from the scenerio is really no help.
The light bulb seems the best and most probable solution to this dilemia, but thanks to a tired roommate looks like I'm headed to the library. What a bright idea.

Scissors are insignificant or are they.

The object I pulled from the bag was not very interesting. Scissors are used every day and I can’t really imagine someone wondering where the first pair came from or who decided to make them. The first time I used scissors I was probably five and in kindergarten. The only thing I cared about then was cutting the shapes and pictures my teacher gave us. I thought the scissors were just a useless tool if you weren’t using them to do busy work my teacher gave us.
Though I never really understood their significance then, I now know they are used for many practical reasons. They are used to cut hair, fabrics when making clothes, in surgical operations, or when building a home types of scissors are used to cut them materials needed. People buy scissors without thinking about the purchase, they just realize they needed them for whatever reason.
The first scissors were made in Egypt and they didn't look at all like the tools we think about today. They were made of two bronze clips, I guess you could call them, and were connected by a bronze spring. They were used to cut materials just as we do now, but now they are a little more advanced.

The Drinking Straw

What is one of the most important yet over looked inventions ever? The Straw.
Rarely do I ever notice such an important commodity, but just like the Post It Note I’ve sometimes wondered, “Man, I wish I would have thought of that!”
The straw as we basically know it today was invented in 1888 by Marvin Stone. The earliest drinking straws were hollow stems of grass, literally made of straw. (Hence the name.) Now, a straw is a thin tube of plastic that comes in many colors and shapes. The basic straw is a straight plastic tube about 8-inches long and is normally clear or white. The “crazy” straw is made of hard plastic and has lots of twists and turns at the top. When liquid is sucked through the straw, it quickly flows up through the winding path, for the drinker’s entertainment. The “bendy straw” invented in 1937 is a bendable straw that has an accordion-like hinge near the top for extra convenience. A straw works when the muscular action of the mouth reduces the air pressure in the mouth, whereupon atmospheric pressure forces the drink up the straw. One interesting advantage of using a straw when drinking besides convenience is the reduction of tooth decay. Using a straw reduces the liquid contact with teeth so you when you drink your sugary Dr. Pepper the straw reduces your risk of getting cavities.

Insignificant Wooden Longhorn Statue

This small wooden statue is a brownish tan color with features that are defined very well. The texture is very smooth, like it's been sanded down several times, and coated with wood-protectant. The wood is very cool, almost as if it has been sitting by an air conditioner or something. The wood is cedar, and the smell takes me back to the days when I used to hide in my grandmother's wooden cedar box during hide and seek as a kid. It has the exact same smell.

I suppose a child could play with this object, but I don't think it's meant for that. It's heavy for its size, and isn't flexible at all. I believe this is meant to be a decoration in someone's home, sitting on a mantle or fireplace. This object was made by careful carving and sculpting. The artist payed particular attention to details. The facial features, muscle features, and of course, the large horns, are sculpted very well.

These simple items, believe it or not, have brought a lot of comfort to many people. It took time and patience to create this object. Even though this object doesn't have a lot of significance and meaning, it's in many ways a simple, beautiful thing.

Highlighter

Pink Sharpie Accent Highlighter.

Long, bright pink, round, hard.

Smooth, little rivets here and there, room temperature. 

Smells like plastic and potent chemical smell from the ink.

Click click click is the noise it makes as I pop the clip on the cap and tap tap tap is the sound it makes as I hit it on the table.

The plastic is smooth in my mouth and hard on my teeth as I bit on the cap.  

The Paperclip

The paper clip is a wonder of simplicity and function, so it seems puzzling that it wasn’t invented earlier. The paper clip is a device that can held several sheets of paper together by means of pressure: it leaves the paper intact and can be easily removed.

A paper clip can be found almost everywhere. Everybody has at least one at home, in the car or in their workplace. This little thing has become very essential in our daily lives.

It is believed that the paper clip was invented in 1899 by William D. Middlebrook. For centuries, straight pins, string and other materials were used as fasteners, but they punctured or damaged the papers. While the paper clip seems like such an obvious solution, its success had to wait for the invention of steel wire, which was "elastic" enough to be stretched, bent and twisted.

The paperclip has also served as a symbol of unity. During World War II people from Norway wore them on their lapels as a symbol of resistance against Nazi occupation during World War II. In 1998 it was also used by a group of students that wanted to have a project where each victim during the Holocaust would be represented by a paper clip. Millions of people all over the world responded to it. They ended up with more than 30 million paper clips.

Although colorful plastic materials and new shapes have challenged the double-oval steel-wire paper clip over the years, none has proven superior. The traditional paper clip is the essence of form follows function. After a century, it still works. Isn’t that great!

Mirror, Mirror, on the wall...

Supersitions about mirrors have been around since the age of mirrors began. Mirrors were originally pools of dark water which evolved into polished stones used to reflect images. I can't imagine the quality was very good! Eventually mirrors were made out of polished glass and molten precious metals. (Now they're just cheap silver material attached to glass--sold for a buck at your local Dollar General.) But the myths and stories behind the dreaded mirror have been around since the beginning.

It is said that a mirror is a reflection of the soul--that it cannot ever lie. The danger behind this thought is that a mirror can be broken. We've all heard that if you break a mirror, it's seven years bad luck...but why? When you break a mirror, legend has it that a piece of your soul breaks off too. Your soul is a precious thing--you only have one--you don't want to break it! However, there is a cure: Wait 7 years! The soul regenerates in exactly 2556 days! Yep, that's 7 years--coincidence huh?! Break the mirror but not have an extra seven years to wait it off? Simple--grind the mirror into dust. (What this does, I have no clue, but that's the rule!) It is also extremely unlucky to see something in the mirror that is not actually there. Remember, mirrors don't lie! It could be the soul of a long lost relative of a southern family that forgot to cover the mirrors during the wake of a dead person. The souls, when leaving the body and heading to the great hereafter, sometimes get caught in the uncovered mirrors during the mourning period.

So whether you believe in superstitions or not, it's usually not a good idea to mess with mirrors. I really don't know anyone who has an extra seven years to wait around for the dead guy with a deep southern accent to leave.

Just One Bite

There it was, just sitting on my desk, staring at me. It wanted to make me feel guilty, I knew that. It wanted to torture me. It knew what I had done, or not done as the case may be. Its existence was intended for practical purposes, probably just to help out a good-natured elementary school teacher, yet it threatened me to do something that I knew I had no time to do, and for that reason, I must break it down…make it weak.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE, MR. APPLE?!?!?!” I screamed at it.

I knew that my anger would take it off guard. It was expecting love and devotion. It wanted me to use it, to sit its smooth, cool body on top of some papers and let it stare at me with affection, but I was too damn hungry to let that apple stay. And what’s worse is that even if I had given in to its seduction, my appetite would not have been satisfied. For this apple, sadly, was not a red-glistening Fuji or a tart, lime-green Granny Smith. It was orange. It was orange and translucent. It was gross. Yet, it made my mouth salivate. The evil queen was offering this amber apple to me, but I would be smarter than Snow White. Because I know that amber does not taste good. Amber is fossilized tree resin, and no matter how beautiful its shape, I would resist. Although, it would be far easier if I had not skipped breakfast this morning.

Votive Candle

The object is made of wax. The wax is melted at 175 degrees and then additives, fragrance oils, and dyes can be added. Then, the wax is put into a cylinder mold. As you may have already guessed, the object is a candle. To be more specific, a votive candle. Once the wax has cooled a little, the wick is inserted. Let the wax finish cooling and slide it out of the mold and you have a candle!
Candles have been around since biblical times. Then, they were used as the main source of lighting. Now, electricity has replaced the candle for that purpose. However, we still love the candle today for many reasons.
The only purposes I ever knew of for votive candles were decorations. They are popular as a small gift for someone you don’t want to spend a lot of money on or as a stocking stuffer, etc. Some people like to put them with stones or marbles for decoration in their home. Others like to buy them so they can try out a new scent before purchasing the larger candle, like a sample.
Although, when I think of a candle, I only think of the scents like vanilla, apple cinnamon, clean laundry, etc.; the candle is used for more purposes than simply making a room smell good. Aside from decoration and scent, candles provide a source of relaxation. They set a mood of tranquility and soothe the nerves. Furthermore, many votive candles are used for religious ceremonies or rituals. They are lit often in the Catholic church for the sick, those in need of prayer, or in memory of those who have died.
Controversy has been sparked over candles made with lead wicks. Researchers at the University of Michigan discovered the lead wicks can give off toxic emissions. High exposure to lead can cause brain and central nervous system damage. Critics argue that candles have been used for years and there have not been issues. The government may ban the use of lead wicks, but I believe we can all rest assured, candles will never leave the market!

Roman Soldiers and Juggling

The two Roman soldiers raced around the bend in the road and caught sight of the tree, the finish line. The man on the left, with the little bit of strength he had left, pushed himself into a headlong sprint and made it to the tree a few seconds before his companion. As they panted and rested against the tree in the cool of the shade, they pulled their sudariums (sweat cloths) from their belts and wiped down their necks and faces. The sudarium that each man carried had become extremely popular recently and no sensible man exercised or went anywhere for that matter without one.
The roman sudariums inspired the Croatian military to develop scarves that tied around the throat, otherwise known as cravats. Cravats were used to distinguish rank among the troops. While making negotiations with France, the cravat caught the French king Lois XIV’s attention and he found it more practical then the French’s starched collars so he began wearing them. Once one of the most powerful kings in Europe started wearing a cravat the rest of the world was quick to follow. After the cravat, the style developed into stocks and then into scarves and bandanas.
I pulled out a scarf from the bag. It was pink and transparent and in a perfect square. When I touched it the material felt cool on my hand and very soft. In facet, it was so soft I felt like my hands must be coarse and dry in comparison. I threw it up in the air and it gently fluttered down and it reminded me of my P.E. class in elementary school. My teacher tried to teach us to juggle but instead of using ball we used light weight scarves like that one. When we threw them up they didn’t fall as quickly so we had time to catch them and throw them back up again before one of the scarves hit the floor.

Ziploc Bag

It is clear plastic, but looking through it makes everything appear dingy and smoky. Boldly printed in white letters is its name: “Ziploc Fresh Shield.” Its thick plastic gives it solidity, its blue and purple zipper give it flair. Snap! It is closed. Rip! It is open.

Ziploc bags have a variety of uses. Caring mothers pack use it to pack away their children’s perfectly prepared sandwiches, complete with white bread, American cheese, and a slice of ham or turkey. Drug dealers use it to pack away crack, marijuana, and other contraband that is perhaps more carefully prepared than the sandwhiches.

Ziploc bags are made from polyethylene plastic. The plastic is heated and melted, then poured into a thin mold in the shape of a bag. Polyethylene plastic is controversial: to environmentalists, it is an evil environment-killing machine. But, to companies such as Exxon-Mobile (the original manufacturer of plastic baggies) and the Dow Chemical Corporation (the current manufacturer), they mean juicy profits.

Gladware containers are threatening to take over the cheap plastic containers market. They offer the cheapness of Ziploc and the sturdiness of Tupperware. However, Ziplocs are still ahead in sales. Ziplocs can’t die, they are an icon.