Sunday, November 30, 2008

Change of Plans

I had a whole Thanksgving entry planned out, as the holiday celebrated around the country just passed. However, In reality, how many of you actually care about my Thanksgiving? Let's think about it logically and decide. Not many. So, why not write about something else. At school there has been sickness flying around, and basically everyone I know has been sick for a few days at least. I had dodged it successfully since the epidemic began. I Lysoled like crazy, washed my hands more than normal, and stayed far away from those infested with the nast bug. I guess one could say I'm a bit of a germophobe when people are sick. Personally, I don't really see that as a bad thing.
Naturally however, my time as come, and being home for Thanksgiving break, I can feel the congestion building. It's a light congestion, but it's there, making my breathing harder abd grosser than it has to be. It was only a matter of time before the sickness flew my way and latched onto me. What can I do though? Afterall it really is just a common cold, and with the proper sleep and nutrition should be gone in a few days. Let's hope that's the case. I really hate being sick. It puts such a damper on my day.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Cold!

My whole life I have loved the hot weather. During the summer I looked forward to going outside, getting sweaty, hot, and downright disgusting, and then walk in to a nice cold house, feeling the air rest upon my overheated body. It is a great feeling, and I still love it. However, I find myself enjoying the cooler temperatures that November, Decmeber, January, February, and March seem to bring. I know these aren't extremem colds, but they are a refreshing break from the hot we have here basically year round.
These days I find myself wanting the cold to flow in and stay for as long as possible. A brisk night walk in the 40 degree letter puts a tingle on my face that feels relaxing. Breathing and seeing my breath against the sky is a beautiful phenomenon that I can't describe. Wearing long comfortable clothes is a niec change from the shorts and tee shirts we're all so accustomed too. They make you feel different, and it makes others look and seem different.
I guess likeing the cold comes from when I was younger. As a young kid I always thought about college kids being in a cold environment - sporting their school sweatshirts, wearing scarves, gloves, hats. I'm not sure why, but when I thought of college kids, long apparel came to mind. Now I suppose, wearing said clothes makes me feel like a college kid. I feel like I belong here, even more than when it was hot.
The cold brings many things, Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, Winter Break, a time to spend with those you love, and a new year, a fresh start. The cold has chipped its way into my life throughmany ways, but despite the ways in which it has, it's a pleasure. I love the cold, just as much as I love the hot. To me, a place like Florida has the best of both worlds, and I couldn't ask for anything better.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Stomping Grounds

Tuesday, or Veterans Day, we all had the day off. No class, no problem. Monday night my friend and I drove home, spent the night watching our favorite TV show Lost, and on Tuesday we went back to high school. We visited friends who were still stuck there, we saw teachers who we had, and we even gave little Q&A sessions about what college was like and what the kids needed to know in the future. It was great. High school was an important time in my life, and the friends I made there, and a few of the teachers I had the pleasure of having helped shape me into who I am today. There were two imparticular, two teachers that is, that had to be some of my favorites ever. I could relate to them, talk to them, annoy them, and I knew that if I ever needed anything, I could go to them with the answer. My sophomore year was the first time I had either of them, and I had them both at the same time; Mrs. Priddy 2nd hour for Chemistry, and Mrs. MacNeill 3rd hour for Algebra 2.
At the beginning I was a little unsure of my math teacher, but Mrs. Priddy I loved right off the bat. I made myself known, I was always willing to volunteer for stupid crap we had to do, etc etc. As my high school career went on, I became her undisputed favorite - last year her husband who I had for Statistics told me so - but I noticed if there was really anything outside of school that I need help with, or even if I just wanted to chat, she was very careful to not cross any crazy lines. That's very professional, and I understood that while I was attending my high school. Tuesday when I went to visit her, she was very standoffish, considerably more than when I was there! It really made me think that perhaps the relationship woth one of my favorite teachers was coming to an abrubt end.
Switching gears to Mrs. MacNeill, my 10th grade math teacher, the circumstances are comepletely different. After a few weeks back in 10th grade, I realized just how awesome this lady was. first off, she was way young, only ten years older than me, which made it very easy for me to relate to and talk to about some of my stupid dillemas. She was different then my chemistry teacher, I didn't really annoy her outside of classroom time that first year I knew her, but during class, and even when I needed to talk, she was always willing to sit and listen. As I grew older I TAed for her, I popped in to talk to her unannounced, and everytime (if she wasn't busy) she would stop and discuss everything I brought up. she became more than a teacher, she became a friend. When I visited Tarpon High School, I went to see her first, and she noticed me, seemed happy and surprised to see me, as a friend would.
Knowing that only one of my favorite teacher s could separate me from a once student made me realize that some people are just stuck in the past, and others are willing t understand that I'm not the idiot high schooler I once was. It was great to see everyone, whether they acknowledged me as an alumni or not. But all in all, the friendship between myself and my 10th grade math teacher is something I wish to pursue and keep strong. As weird as it sounds, it really isn't. She's not just a teacher, and I'm not just a student. No. We're two people who share common intrests, isn't that what friends are?

Friday, November 7, 2008

Welcome Home

The house needed fixing up, not to mention there was a faint but foul smell that hung in the air. The stains on the old beaten up walls that were torn with flowered wallpaper didn’t really help the situation become any less eerie. The stairs creaked slowly on each step, not to mention 1 step was missing about half way up, the railing was not sanded at all, the wood protruding in every imaginable direction, eagerly waiting to bury into an unsuspecting hand. Why did these two want to buy this disaster of an estate?
As the couple traveled up the 23 staired staircase, they viewed the second story and its many rooms that each had a dusty lit doorway, signifying that all the doors were ajar, all the rooms desperately hoping to lure the couple in side them through the dusty entry. After examining each torn apart and destroyed room, they finally came to an entry way that had French doors with polished gold handles. The doors were wide open, and a king sized bed was seen to the direct left of the entry way, up against a tattered wallpaper covered wall. The wallpaper was torn and shredded, but the bed was in perfect condition. A four posted bed with a red drape covered a neatly made dark red comforter with a white sheet seen underneath. The pillow cases were a bright red satin material, glimmering in the light coming from the 6 paneled window about 3 quarters down the right side wall next to the bed.
They noted the bed and both silently wondered why it was so beautifully made, then cautiously moved into the nearby master bathroom, which, as they were not expecting, was just as grungy as the rest of the mansion. On the right side of the bathroom, the shower was a wreck, the curtain hanging limply by merely 2 rings. The curtain, which they imagined was once white, was now a musty brown color, and smelled horrid. They then simultaneously turned around to notice a large polished bathtub which was filled a quarter high with a light brown fluid. They were rather intrigued by the mysterious liquid when they both saw a solid red drop fall directly into the slightly filled tub. They remained still, their petrified eyes glued to the bathtub in awestricken wonder, when another red drop fell into the light brown liquid, permeating its color and ripples throughout. They slowly lifted their now heavy heads and stiff necks to look at the ceiling which was quite low above them, only to find a red bead forming in the exact location above which the previous two hand landed. It was getting fuller and fuller until gravity pulled it down, and it seemed to the couple the longest amount of time a drop of any substance could take to fall.
After it had fallen into the tub that was filled with the mystery liquid, they both hustled frantically out of the master bedroom and to the remaining flight of stairs. After 13 excruciating steps that were filled with fear and anxiousness, they reached a small landing that led to one single black door with an old rusted gold key lock doorknob. Slowly the doorknob was tried, but it unfortunately was locked. 3 fierce kicks later, the black door had been kicked in, it now relying on 2 hinges to keep it upright. The room was humongous, and filled with massive black shelves that were filled with bags among bags that were filled with similarly shaped figures, however they were hard to make out, for the only light was coming from a small window, 3 feet in diameter, at the very back of the room. The smell that lingered in the air was unbearable, and they realized it was the smell they had encountered throughout the house, this time to a more intoxicating degree. Harmoniously in step, they moved farther into the dimly lit room, holding their noses tightly so they did not suffer from the lingering unnatural smell.
Then the door was spontaneously slammed shut, the window was covered by a dark blind removing all light from the foul smelling room. After a few unsure and scared seconds of darkness, 3 florescent lights turned on above them, but they were so far into the middle of the enormous room, the door was no where in their immediate sight. They followed a long dusted passage way between the shelves when they noticed a bare emaciated foot sticking out from underneath a stained ant tattered canvas. They nervously turned a corner when the sound of sloshing was heard underneath their trembling feet. They slowly looked down, seeing the dark crimson of blood flowing from underneath them. Mesmerized by the flowing of the blood they continued to look down rather than ahead when they ran into something blocking their path. Looking up, they saw a cadaver hanging from the ceiling with a sign that was written sloppily in dark red. The last thing the couple saw was a sign that merely said “WELCOME HOME”.

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Googlers Beware!

There are many kids who would not be ashamed to say they cannot imagine living life without the internet, Google, and everything that comes with that. According to studies and research though, it seems that these tools that are known as very helpful, are not so helpful to many youngsters at all. It has caused for many myths to occur, some true, some false, others yet to be determined. However, the doubts for the future are out there, and it is very important that these doubts are looked at and explained why they should or should not be worth fretting about. The characteristics of the Google Generation are similar, yet different, the majority having to deal with the effects of the internet and how it plays a role in the lives of the individuals, for better or for worse.
Perhaps what is known as one of the most infamous traits of the Google Generation is the fact that they cut and paste just about everything. When writing papers, all that is needed is a press of the control button on the keyboard while at the same time pressing the c button. And with that the text wanted is copied. Following this is a simple maneuver of holding down control and v and the paste is complete. This trait causes the members of the generation to find something they’re looking for, barely understand it, and use it to get the grade they need for school. The argument concerning the cut and paste way of life, is that it doesn’t help children participating in this activity learn. Many argue it is lessening the quality of research skills within the Google Generation kids. If all they have to do is skim the reading, copy what looks good, paste it in a word document, and they’re off, no knowledge learned. On this matter, it would seem the experts’ doubts are right, what good is the internet doing for our future?
As previously stated, not everything dealing with the how the Google Generation goes about their lives is a bad thing. There are some good things about younger people knowing how to work the internet. As the future grows nearer, people as a whole have to begin to assume technology will become more and more prevalent in society. Basically, the children growing up in the Google Generation have been around this blossoming technology most of their lives. Who better to learn how to use the internet, than those who have been engulfed by its being and most up to date version ever. Many of the older generations do have a general idea of what they’re doing, and are one the internet just about as often as the kids are, but for the future, these kids are going to be the ones leading the way. In this sense then, the knowledge of the internet and how it works isn’t bad, as long as one knows how to go about using it properly.
With that, it brings up the next argument, one that has been discussed and tossed around countless times. With all of the cutting and pasting going on, and all of the skimming and not reading going on, it would appear that the Google Generation kids would in reality have no sense of how to actually use the internet. Where is it written however, that as they mature, correct ways of research via internet can’t be learned? Not every participant categorized as a member of the Google Generation should be labeled as a poor researcher. As the tasks get harder, the research must become more in depth. It is important to realize that as the technologies change, the people using them change as well. Though the previous generations have ways of researching and doing things, who says the upcoming generations’ way of researching is less of a complexity. The sooner the generation begins to use the internet and its qualities properly, the more advanced there are destined to become.
Granted these are only a few examples of what is, isn’t, and what is yet to be understood about the Google Generation, but they are useful tools in understanding the generation growing. Sure, there are things that aren’t at all good about how they use the internet, but despite that, there are other qualities the posses, and many that have yet to be discovered. One could say that all this generation needs is time, and they’ll finally understand how to use their resources properly. Until then, it is only safe for them to do what their known for best, cut and pasting, skimming, social networking, and multitasking.