A writer? Maybe.

"I'm a writer" I think. It's a thought that catches me by surprise. My handwriting is atrocious. My spelling, like that of a 3rd grader. Still, I think I'm a writer. 

I collect journals. Buying new ones even before the old are filled. In fact, I have hardly ever finished a single journal. The two or three that I've managed to fill over halfway are some of my greatest treasures, although I do mock them. 

"Did I really say that?" I laugh at my attempts to sound well versed and poetic. Still, I know that if I wrote it, I meant it. I labor over word choice, often crossing out words that don't quite fit. 

Yes, my attempts are humorous. I keep trying. I want my voice to be heard. I have something to say and I want people to listen. My empty journals say this more than hundreds of filled pages ever could. 

I am a writer and I am learning to write. Learning to say things on paper that I wouldn't or couldn't say out loud. 

I am a reader. I've always been. Now I am learning that writing for myself is so much better than relating to the words of someone else. I don't have to laugh at my feeble attempts. I'm trying, right? 

I want to fill every journal on my shelf. Well, maybe I'll just buy a new one. A empty journal represents a story yet to be told. It represents an adventure yet to take place. My old, empty journals belong to stories that have already played out but go undocumented. To fill the pages with the present or dreams of the future would be blasphemous. 

Empty pages deserved to be filled, right? Isn't that the purpose for which they were created? Maybe I feel this way because I am a writer. 

Am I really a writer? 

I think. 

I think I am.  

Funky Toe

Some might find it interesting that given the power to change one of my physical features that I would choose to change my toe, but it really isn’t that hard to understand once you know how much my poor toe has been through. Hurt, deformed, permanently damaged, mocked…yes, my big toe has been through quite a lot. It all started that fateful day,  12 years ago…
I was ten years old, and definitely in my “awkward stage”  uncoordinated  and klutzy as can be.  One day while looking through the pantry, I dropped a jar on my foot. My toe instantly started swelling and bruising. A few days later my toenail fell off. Unfortunately, this was just the beginning. Of course, the nail grew back…but it was different, thinker and shorter. My nail bed was damaged, and having an ingrown toenail was common and often resulted in an infection. I started referring to it as my funky toe, and my - oh so compassionate -  siblings quickly followed suit . Eventually, I went to the foot doctor and had an procedure done to prevent it from becoming ingrown. It wasn’t as painful anymore, but I will never forget the words the doctor said…I asked him if there was anything I could do to make it grow back normal (now that I was in Jr. High, being normal was very important to me). He said no, and that my toe would always be bulbous. For some reason, I found that extremely offensive, yet strangely funny.  He couldn’t have known that he christen my poor toe with a new name.
I started to avoid wearing flip-flops, and often would curl my toes under my foot to hide my deformity. One magical day while getting a pedicure I discovered something amazing…it was possible to get an acrylic nail on your toes!  Of course, I decided to try it. I was thrilled with the result, was even wore open-toed high heels to a wedding! I couldn’t have been prepared for what followed…while out on the dance floor, someone stepped on my toe, ripping both the real and the fake nail off by the roots.  This became somewhat of a cycle. My nail would grow back, I would get a fake one, and eventually both nails would come off. I started only getting the fake nail for special occasions,  but  by now my nail bed was even further damaged. Even the slightest stub of my toe can cause my nail to detach itself.  That I’ve lost my toenail so many times, in the most opportune places has been a joke in my family for years.  I’ve even lost it Disneyland! Heck, I wouldn’t let Prince Charming anywhere near my foot, even if he did have my glass slipper!
My funky, bulbous toe is, by far, my worst feature…

The Big Valley

Pro's Ranch Market

This morning my dad woke me up to go shopping with him and my mom. The original plan was to go to the Costco Business Center for a projector so we could watch a movie while relaxing in the pool (this has been one of Pop's fondest dreams for years...in his perfect plan, my whole family floats on inner tubes while watching Jaws).  Well, as usual with my parents, any trip on a Saturday morning includes multiple stops at yard sales and random stores, and somehow or another we landed at a Mexican grocery store.

And not just any store, this one might as well be located Mexico. I love stuff like this. 

I'll never forget my first experience in a Asian grocery store (thanks to Carol Farr), but this was so much better! Now, I LOVE grocery shopping, and I think I am one of the few people in the world who likes to "window shop" in grocery store. It's the Denny blood in me...what can I say; we just love food.

       

           

 

        

Food from other cultures is so fascinating to me. It's amazing that we have pretty much the same ingredients but use them in such different ways. 

For example:  Cow stomach can become menudo (which I sampled, by the way),

and chicken feet must be delicious if prepared properly!

                                                

I could have stayed in the store forever, wondering up and down the isles, but alas, all good things must come to an end. Unfortunately, the end came before I was ready when a manager informed me that taking pictures of items in the store was not allowed. I did manage to sneak in a few more, but not without feeling a trifle guilty. Oh well, it was time to be on our way. 

 

                                                     American stores are so boring.

MZUNGU! MZUNGU, PHOTO ME!

Eng 217 - Personal and Exploratory Writing :) My first homework assignment in over two years....

Pick one of the following prompts: 

1)Using vivid words and details, describe your personality. 
2)What is the best thing you ever did? (Most Honorable? Most effective? Most fun? 
3)If your mind where a house, what would it look like?

                                MZUNGU! MZUNGU, PHOTO ME!

I suddenly found myself totally surrounded by small, black, smiling faces. I made no attempt to get away, although if some fresh air had made it through the odor of unwashed bodies, I would not have complained. I never expected my slightly outdated digital camera to create such a response.

I’m not sure what I did foresee when I headed halfway around the world to visit an orphanage in Uganda. I knew I would be saddened by the poverty, the constant reminder of death, and the cultural differences. What I never imagined, was the fun I would have. Every morning for five days, I showed up at the orphanage and just played and played. I can’t remember a time when I have given so much of myself. The little girls literally fought over holding my hand, sometimes I had as many as five hanging from each one! The boys just tried to make me laugh, each one trying to out do his friends so that my eyes would focus on him alone. The older girls hung back, but a simple smile or word from me would cause their faces to light up with pride at being noticed.

With the language barrier, I needed someway to connect but was unsure of what to do. When I first pulled out my camera, it was for personal reasons. I wanted to remember the details of this new world around me. Of course, they wanted to see what I had photographed, and pretty soon the crowd of children around me doubled. Everyone shouting “Mzungu” (meaning “White person”) “Muzungu, Muzungu, photo me! Photo me!” At first there was some order. I would take a picture and then show it to the crowd, but I was quickly surrounded, lost in a sea of faces…I couldn’t even see sunlight! Soon, I was just snapping photos. I took as many pictures as I could, and each time I revealed a new one, the children giggled with glee at the sight of themselves.

With all the media coverage over the last few years, I knew that I would see physical hunger. But the emotional hunger, the need for the affirmation that comes with a hug, a smile, a hand or a picture…that was a surprise. It was also something I could give, a small way that I could help. I have never felt such a sense of purpose, before or since. Taking those pictures, holding those hands, being there for a short time, just to love those kids…it was the best and most rewarding thing I have ever done.

First Day (Kind Of)

Today is the first day of school. All students know the first class is (at least in community college) a total waste of time. After going around the room and introducing yourself  ("Hi, my name is Stan  I'm here because I love to learn , let's see, something about myself, I love cats! ") you then have to sit there and hear the instructor read the syllabus (which you are perfectly capable of reading yourself), after 20 minutes of torture you are dismissed early, only to have to wait an hour and twenty minutes for the next class, which is the exact same thing.
Luckily, I had an out. Something thing even the strictest attendance gurus allow as a good reason to miss a day of nonsense. 


Jury Duty.  


Yes, I was EXCITED to receive my summons. I've been waiting for this since the day I registered to vote! Even now that I am here, sitting and pretty much doing nothing, I am still excited. I hope I get called for a panel. If I do, I'm sure all my faithful readers (if there are any) will hear alll about it.


Which brings me to my next topic - I will be blogging more. As I was saying before, I started school again. I haven't been in school for two years now, not since I graduated with my AAS (Associates in Applied Science). I have always loved school, not homework or tests, but learning and being in a classroom. It's one thing I have really missed, but I didn't want to get student loans for a university when I have no idea what I even want to study. However, the need for (free) health insurance has recently convinced me I ought to go back to school. So this time, it's about fun. What I want to learn, not what someone decided I need in order to graduate. What classes am I taking? Well, I'm glad you asked.  


ENG 217 - Personal & Exploratory Writing, 
ART 161 - Ceramics I, 
and  
DAN 131 - Ballet I. 


I plan on having a great semester! I already picked up my syllabus for the writing class, and my first "writing exercise" is as follows: 
"Pick one of the following prompts: 
1)Using vivid words and details, describe your personality. 
2)What is the best thing you ever did? (Most Honorable? Most effective? Most fun? 
3)If your mind where a house, what would it look like?"


I love creative writing, so I am especially excited for this class. I plan on using my blog for homework practice, so stay tuned, I'm sure I will be able to draw from my ballet and ceramics classes for funny material!

Our Alternate Reality: The Internet

This post may seem to be, for indeed it is, a squeal to my earlier post Girl Vs. Machine, but this time I would like to shift my focus from technology in general to the narrower, but ever growing, world of computers. Theseus Statement: I HATE the way the internet has infiltrated every aspect of our daily lives. Don't get me wrong, google maps has definitely made driving easier, and I've waisted a fair amount of time uploading pictures to facebook...but are these good things? I mean really good for us both as individuals and as a society?

For example, the other day I was talking to my younger brother who just recently got his drivers permit. He mentioned he needed to start paying better attention to where streets were and in response I started explaining how the roads are laid out in Arizona. He interrupted me and said "You don't have to tell me, I'll just get a GPS".  Now I have nothing against the GPS, I have one and has been known to come in handy. What I do have a problem with is the mindset that we shouldn't bother learning something that a computer can just tell us. When I started driving, I didn't have a choice, I had to figure out the roads or else be perpetually lost, but now all I have to do is type in an address and good Ol' Madge (my Magellan GPS), will give me step by step directions. Really cool? Absolutely. But be honest, isn't this a little pathetic? We have become so used to various forms of computers (you don't even want to get me started on ipads and kendles) that we have grown both addicted to and dependent on them.   Which leads me to the real issue, and my true annoyance, the continual facebooking and text messaging (which I guess can even be combined now) of pretty much everyone. 

We invest so much of our time into written conversations that are not in person, we forget how real face to face conversations should be. This effects two areas; first, the dumbing down effect: instead of typing like we speak, we start speaking like we type. Phrases like LOL, OMG, JK and WTF which are stupid even when they are on a computer screen, but when people actually say them...we stoop to a whole new level of stupidity. And second, we tend to forget our natural inhibitions. When getting to know someone in person, there are certain things that we hold back. It's not natural to share deep feelings in a causal conversation. However, when the person you are talking to is not present, but merely a conversation box on a screen, we don't always follow these social rules, often delving into personal and deep conversations with people we barely know. While these conversations are not wrong, by any means, they can reverse the natural order in which you get to know someone, often resulting in awkwardness when actually talking in person. You see, a huge part of getting to know someone is observing them. How they talk, facial expressions, the way they treat others, body language, etc. It's actually possible in our modern world to become great friends with and even romantically involved with someone that you're not even able stand being around. 

The reason for this being that we can interpret written messages to be whatever we want them to be, depending on the tone and voice and inflection that we imagine the other person to be using. These conversations can almost become addicting. There is a freedom in expressing oneself through writing, historically people have been experiencing that freedom by writing in a variety of forms, but now with the lack of education combined with the digital age, we now express ourselves in a variety of forums.

Before I end this rant, I'd like to expand on the topic text messaging/cell phone internet. I don't have a ton say, only this: When you actually leave the presence of a computer screen, and venture out into society, try to interact with the people your with, especially if your only with one other person. Leave your phone alone, it won't kill you. We are so addicted to these devilish contraptions that five minutes away from them leaves us feeling like there is a void that needs filling. This is just another way that social skills are effected. We have created a need to be in constant contact via text (this is especially true in romantic relationships). 

Look, I'm not saying it's all bad. After all, I am blogging right now. I use facebook, I text message...if anything this whole post is direct towards myself, reminding me what what I know and how I don't want to be.  I just wish that life was a bit more simple. We need to remember what is valuable.