Friday, April 30, 2010

The final blog again to put my blogs to rest

Wow the final blog. It seems like just yesterday I typed my very first one, but alas an entire semester has passed. Goes to show how fast time flies when you're in another world.
That is what this class has done for me. It has taken me from my everyday boring scheduled every minute life and put me into a world where anything is possible and everything is probable. Its as though I have peered to far into the rabbit whole and am now wandering around in a world of non-sense. It is my own world that I have developed from the visuals I created in my head while reading the wonderful literature that was specifically selected for us this semester. Some parts of my world are scary, like the one where I see an innocent child being tortured to near death, and a city being burned to death while a woman is turned to a pillar of salt. Parts of my world are filled with abandonment and negativity like the actions of Fydor Karamazov, while others are spiritual and uplifting like the thoughts of dear Alyosha. There are tricksters like the Cheshire cat, earth mothers, death mothers, smother mothers and temptresses. Some of the men are wise like Father Zossima, while others are devilish like creepy Arnold Friend. Around every corner waits adventure, emotions, determination, conflict, and an experience of a life time.
As my thoughts intertwine they select words of powerful meaning and repeat them creating a sort of poem that is found only within my minds inner workings. Each step I take adds meter to my poem; tetrameter, pentameter, hexameter, heptemeter, octameter. Some parts become stressed da dum da dum da dum. But no matter the beat, my heart sticks with my feet as I take on the fight, till day turns to night.

This class has brought me more than this though, more than this world non-sense you know. It has brought me to a new chapter in life that I had not seen before. One that requires understanding of tragedy but the strength to find beauty, one that presents sarvam dukkham sarvam anityam as more than just gobble gook. It has brought me many realizations of what this world has to offer and shown me the most opportune way to take advantage of it. I have come to realize that nothing is original because everything comes from something else and has outside influences along the way. I have come to understand the importance of not just making the characters you write about little clones of yourself, but instead develop a new character that had different opinions and reactions. I know now that it is important to draw a very fine line between the quotes that you write and the quotes that you quote. Also that we must tell the truth but at a slant.

I wish I could say that this all came to me in a dream and was a realization that only I had but I cannot. This was not simply my realizations, these were a collaboration of the thoughts of literature, my thoughts, the thoughts of our professor, but mostly the creative thoughts of my immaculate peers. I would like to thank all of you for your wonderful input this semester, it has helped me develop myself far more than I have ever been able alone. I can only hope that I have done the same for others in the class as well. I apologize for reserving my thoughts till right here at the end but it took me some time to sort what was really important to me that you take from me during this experience.

and now I will leave you with a poem dedicated to my LIT11o class of 2010:

Its been a big load,
This path we have traveled,
Down a long twisted road
Which we have unraveled.
My hope now for you
Is to take on the challenge
Of following through
And finding your balance,
Of listening and talking
To improve yourself
For confident walking
As a means of health
Go now my peers be ready, take flight
May your souls and your spirits forever shine bright

Presentations II

Lindsey- I know what it feels like to have more teacher friends than student friends and I know how saddening it can feel once you realize it. I am just sorry for you that there was so much pressure on you during high school to change the ways that you had for so long enjoyed. I am super glad though that in the end you were able to find an appropriate balance of the two. Just remember to never forget those times and how happy you were then. Nice presentation by the way!



Brittany- You and I have something very much in common in that this was the first class that I had to blog for. I have never blogged before, I mean I can barely check my Facebook account and check my e-mail. But you and I have advanced technologically more than we ever would have with out this class agreed?



Something else that was discussed during the presentations is the idea that we live in paradise right now no matter where you are. It is bizarre to me that we don't understand that we are in paradise now and we are always searching for it. What is it that we think paradise looks like, what is it that we can't see now? How do we get satisfied with the idea that we are in paradise now and that it is not really looking up at all for the future. Since all these questions are formulating in my mind with no answers I suppose I need to move ahead and come up with solutions of my own. So my solution to this proclamation is that I am going to enjoy every moment of my life and not focus so much energy on finding happiness later in life. I have to remember that now is the opportunity to live not later. I hope that others can come to their own realization that suits them for their lives. But most importantly I hope that they can live up to the realization they have come to. Right now is paradise, paradise is bliss.

Questions for the Exam

What was scandelous about Father Zossima's death?
---The odor of corruption---

Who is Smerdyakov's mother?
---Stinking Lizaveta---

What is one of the great lessons of Zossima about responsibility?
---Everyone is responsible for everyone---

Who actually murdered Father Karamazov?
---Smerdyakov---

How does Smerdyakov die?
---He hangs himself---

Where is paradise?
---Right here, right now---

What are the last chapters of the Brothers Karamazov depicting?
---The enditement of the western legal system---

How is each brother personally responsible for Father Karamazov's death?
---Smerdyakov- actually kills him
Alyosha- doesn't stop Smerdyakov
Ivan- plants the idea in Smerdyakov
Dmitri- wants him to die---

Who brings/ what is the evidence against Dmitri?
---The letter from Katerina---

Who is Alyosha's childhood "bully/not friend" that later becomes his "deciple"
---Kolya---

Who was the hero of Brothers Karamazov in the eyes of Anne?
---Ilusha---

Who does Hamlet stab through the curtain?
---Thelonius---

Who does Hamlet think he is stabbing behind the curtain?
---Claudius---

Who is the only one that challenges Hamlet's wit?
---The grave digger---

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

My Final Blog

Wow the final blog. It seems like just yesterday I typed my very first one, but alas an entire semester has passed. Goes to show how fast time flies when you're in another world.

That is what this class has done for me. It has taken me from my everyday boring scheduled every minute life and put me into a world where anything is possible and everything is probable. Its as though I have peered to far into the rabbit whole and am now wandering around in a world of non-sense. It is my own world that I have developed from the visuals I created in my head while reading the wonderful literature that was specifically selected for us this semester. Some parts of my world are scary, like the one where I see an innocent child being tortured to near death, and a city being burned to death while a woman is turned to a pillar of salt. Parts of my world are filled with abandonment and negativity like the actions of Fydor Karamazov, while others are spiritual and uplifting like the thoughts of dear Alyosha. There are tricksters like the Cheshire cat, earth mothers, death mothers, smother mothers and temptresses. Some of the men are wise like Father Zossima, while others are devilish like creepy Arnold Friend. Around every corner waits adventure, emotions, determination, conflict, and an experience of a life time.

As my thoughts intertwine they select words of powerful meaning and repeat them creating a sort of poem that is found only within my minds inner workings. Each step I take adds meter to my poem; tetrameter, pentameter, hexameter, heptemeter, octameter. Some parts become stressed da dum da dum da dum. But no matter the beat, my heart sticks with my feet as I take on the fight, till day turns to night.

This class has brought me more than this though, more than this world non-sense you know. It has brought me to a new chapter in life that I had not seen before. One that requires understanding of tragedy but the strength to find beauty, one that presents sarvam dukkham sarvam anityam as more than just gobble gook. It has brought me many realizations of what this world has to offer and shown me the most opportune way to take advantage of it. I have come to realize that nothing is original because everything comes from something else and has outside influences along the way. I have come to understand the importance of not just making the characters you write about little clones of yourself, but instead develop a new character that had different opinions and reactions. I know now that it is important to draw a very fine line between the quotes that you write and the quotes that you quote. Also that we must tell the truth but at a slant.

I wish I could say that this all came to me in a dream and was a realization that only I had but I cannot. This was not simply my realizations, these were a collaboration of the thoughts of literature, my thoughts, the thoughts of our professor, but mostly the creative thoughts of my immaculate peers. I would like to thank all of you for your wonderful input this semester, it has helped me develop myself far more than I have ever been able alone. I can only hope that I have done the same for others in the class as well. I apologize for reserving my thoughts till right here at the end but it took me some time to sort what was really important to me that you take from me during this experience.

and now I will leave you with a poem dedicated to my LIT11o class of 2010:

Its been a big load,
This path we have traveled,
Down a long twisted road
Which we have unraveled.
My hope now for you
Is to take on the challenge
Of following through
And finding your balance,
Of listening and talking
To improve yourself
For confident walking
As a means of health
Go now my peers be ready, take flight
May your souls and your spirits forever shine bright

Sweet Alyosha

In the first book of the Brothers K when the sons are born and the mothers "leave" old man Karamazov my heart was struck with sadness when old man Karamazov didn't take the opportunity to prove himself a good man and a good father to his three wonderful boys. During the time that I was reading this first section was when I met my new dog for the first time. We found her at the Humane Society amongst a litter of small tri-colored puppies. Immediately I knew she was the one and could not wait to take her home. She was perfect. When the Humane Society staff came to us to ask how they could be of assistance I showed her which one I wanted and asked how they all made it here to the Humane Society. The woman replied to me that they had discovered the puppies completely abandoned in a crack house looking shed. Their owners had left them to fend for themselves. I was heart broken to hear that but realized it was similar to the occurrence in the Brothers K. Only this sweet puppies new care taker was not a house "slave/butler/house keeper", it was me!!!

After taking the puppy home, I decided to return to the novel and find an appropriate name for the new puppy in remembrance of the great Brothers Karamazov. After many thoughts and discussions with my family we decided that Alyosha was the right one. Even though the puppy is a she and Alyosha is a boy's name we had hoped that she would grow up to have a similar similar mentality as Alyosha. She still has quite a bit of puppy energy but you can see already when she rests in your arms or lap that she is there for you and just as kind a sweet Alyosha.

Character Comparisons

While reading the Brothers Karamazov I realized that each of the sons reminded me of famous influential people.

Alyosha reminded me of a lot of Gandhi. From the information I have researched and read about Gandhi, he and Alyosha have very similar personalities with some very key traits. Both Gandhi and Alyosha have very a very calm, easing, and poised day to day personality that shows how at peace with themselves they both are. They are both very caring people and believe truly in forgiveness and redemption. They are both strong individuals in the sense of their connection with God. The words they speak seem to be very well chosen and it seems as though they take advantage of nothing. Neither of them put any body below themselves even the "horrible" old man Karamazov. One thing that I have thought about while comparing the two of them is how their reactions to the idea of an innocent child suffering for the worlds peace and unity would differ. Would Gandhi be left nearly speechless? Would he have something wise and uplifting to answer back with? What would Gandhi do?

Ivan Karamazov did not strike me as similar to any particular influential person until I was researching around and found some interesting comments that were posted by very important people about the Brothers K. I found a web site that had multiple quotes from Albert Einstein praising Dostoevsky's wonderful work of literature. That's when I realized that Ivan Karamazov has very similar personalities to Einstein. They are both questioners of almost all material placed in front of them. They are men of extreme intelligence and devoted to the their work. They both like to take claim of their actions and discoveries which sadly leads to a period of near insanity for Ivan as he contemplates his contributions to the old man Karamazov's murder.

Last but not least Dimitri Karamazov bares a striking resemblance to Chris McCandless the 1980's and early 90's most powerful voice of man speaking for the earth. McCandless spent his time outdoors, traveling and living amongst the earths creatures. Both Dmitri and McCandless are very sensual and are considered men of earth. One main difference that I see between McCandless and Dimitri is their idea of money well spent. While Dmitri spends his money on whatever he wants as a means of leisure, McCandless if he had any money would spend it on only the necessary tools to survive, knives, food, maps, etc...

So these are some of the characteristics that popped out at me as similar to influential people of the world. What other people do you draw connections to when reading the Brothers K?

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The Grand Inquisitor

I found this section of the Brothers Karamazov particularly interesting. The idea of the church needing to be in control of every ones decisions makes me question church more than I already do. I personally think that it is important to believe in something whatever that may be for people, however absolutely only in my opinion, I think that church attendance is not necessary. In my eyes some of the head members that work to translate the bible to the attendees, translate it in combination with their own personal feeling and opinions on the matter and then tell people that what they tell them is how it is and we all must follow it. I think it is important for people to be able to make up their minds on their own. I do think that people should have to option to ask for help deciphering the bible if they chose but it should not be pushed on people as necessary to be a faithful follower.

Although that was a little off topic I was trying to get to a point. That is how I feel as far as the church which brings me to the idea of humans not being able to handle the freedom of choice. Could I? Could I handle the power of absolute freedom? Could I handle the freedom of not feeling guilty and wrong committing crimes and violent acts? Even more importantly could I handle everyone else having the same powers? I would like to think that we could handle them but honestly I have no idea. It seems that today, having no mandatory attendance to go to church and be religious, only some of us are able to handle the powers of freedom. There is still crime and injustice, poverty and corruption. But is that because we have or don't have ultimate freedom. Are we prisoners of the church? Are we prisoners of ourselves?

Who knows??

My Paper


Danielle Lindner
Literature 110
Michael Sexon
26 April 2010
Make Life Beautiful

We all live with tragedy. Friends, family, political leaders, pets, and even inanimate objects can bring us tragedy which comes with a sad, dark, gloomy, hopeless cloud that rests above us like rain in Seattle. For many years of my life I was under the impression that the world was to blame because it was out to get me and make my life miserable. I was able to see my tragedies and how they negatively affected me but it was not until my first real literature class that I realized tragedy is not something that only happens to certain people but rather that we live a tragic sense of life. Everything we do or buy to avoid tragedy serves as nothing but crutch until tragedy takes over again. Yet, we do everything in our power to hold on to happiness and make the best of what this tragic world has to offer. The difference this epiphany has made for me is a new view of life; life is a tragedy that we make beautiful.
We all experience our first tragedy at birth when we are removed from the only warm, secure, nurturing womb we know and laid on a table to have a nasal aspirator shoved up our nose while another doctor slaps us on our butt till we cry. There is no denying the tragedy in that even though we don’t consciously remember it later. Others we do remember are the deaths of friends and family, the failures we have, the people we hurt and those that hurt us, and many more. Clearly tragedy comes naturally and is here to stay. The only options we have are to succumb to tragedy and welcome death, or fight for happiness.
To help with sadness, humans look for a friendly companion and often we turn to animals. Most any animal will do for a pet, from a cute little dog or a playful kitten to fish, horses, pigs, and monkeys. We buy them hoping they will fill a hole in our hearts by being our best friends forever that always stay by our sides. What I didn’t realize before is that counting on an animal for companionship is only a crutch for tragedy. Most of us outlive our pets and are brought back to the same tragic life while we watch them suffer and die. The animal may have had a long, loving, fun life with it’s owner but the tragedy for both is inevitable. Yet, the dedication we have to making our pets life the best it can be and using them to make our own better as well truly adds beauty to tragedy.
A perfect example of a tragedy made beautiful is the poem written by Edgar Allen Poe titled, Annabel Lee. In this poem the author expresses his never ending love for a girl he is unable to have. The tragedy is him never being able to have the love of his life as well as her never being able to have him. Annabel Lee was taken away by her “high-born kinsman” and taken to a kingdom by the sea where she suffered from sadness. Most people would give up and find a new love, while some would succumb to the tragedy. In the case of this man and Annabel Lee they did neither. They continued their lives with each other in their every thought taking a tragic life of losing their love and making it a tragic life of beautiful love. Edgar Allen Poe writes:
But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we-- Of many far wiser than we-- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams,
bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise,
but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide,
I lie down by the side
Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Throughout the semester I have learned a lot not only about the retelling of stories but a deeper understanding of the themes and meanings the stories have to tell. We have talked about heroes and monsters, love and friendships, fate and loss, but what I learned the most from was our discussions and reading on the tragic sense of life. Before this class I was ignorant to the idea that life is tragic and meant to be that way. Once that idea became clear to me I realized that we can not live our lives thinking of them only as a tragedy when there is truly good in the world. Yes life is tragic but it is up to us to make the best of the world while we are on it. When we find love and companionship and dedicate ourselves to them, we are living the only way one could, living a tragic life and making it beautiful.

Presentations II

The individual presentations have been very fascinating. When I first heard that we were encouraged to write mainly on one of two topics I was afraid that most of the presentations would sound a like. However as it turns out the generic topic has been very different from almost everyone that's performed and the ones on the Brothers K. have been on different parts. A couple that I really enjoyed are:



Matt's on "You don't know what you're saying till you see what you say", I enjoyed his mainly because it was a slightly different interpretation of the saying than I took. I love that, to see how minds can work so differently and finish with different outcomes that are both correct.



I also really enjoyed Anthony's. The way he read his paper with the same amount of enthusiasm and emotion that he used to write it made it really stand out in my mind.


Another one I found very entertaining was the presentation with the poster board and the attachable pictures of Obama the Fox news guy. This was a fun one because she had a visual aid that caught the audiences attention and made us giggle. Also she did her presentation on a very intriguing character to me, Arnold Friend.

Even if yours was not mentioned here it was awesome!! Just as the professor asked the presenters to do, they have been knocking my socks off each and every day!!

My Heroic Moment

While reading through the Monsters and Heroes section of the Anthology I was reminded of an instance when I was a hero to someone and did not react so smoothly after the fact. So here is my story...

Once upon a time, (but seriously this happened) I was camping up at Canyon Ferry Lake which is located between Bozeman and Helen along some random highways (for those who aren't familiar with the area). While I was laying on the beach trying to soak up some sun even though I am a ginger that doesn't tan and was surrounded by multiple families and groups of friends. Along the beach was a group of children playing in the sand and shouting to their friends swimming close to the shore. I heard a shout that was asking for help from drowning which caught my attention but was shortly lost after seeing the children laughing and pointing at their friend splashing about. Then the child in the water jumped up and walked along the bottom of the shallow water up onto land, so I turned back to my friends and continued my conversation.

"Help, I need help, I 'm bbbllmbble" (that is the sound of a muffled, cry bobbing in and out of water)

This cry caught my attention and was not about to lose it. I turned towards the water and noticed a man bobbling up and down, in and out of the water, waving his arms frantically. He reminded me of a bobber at the end of a rod being pulled under the water by a fish struggling to free its self from a death trap. Then I saw a man sprint towards the water and dive in. I quickly jumped to my feet and bolted to the water! I sloshed through the first shallow steps of the beach then plunged in, arms first above my head and started throwing my arms in front of me into the water pulling myself forward as fast and as hard as I could. ADRENALINE RUSH!!

During one of my strokes I saw out of the corner of my eye the large man that had dove into the water before me. Shit, I thought to myself, I am going to be out here by myself until that guy catches up to me. This thought was the only conscious one that I remember from the actual event because within seconds I had reached the flailing man who grabbed me instantly and began to push himself up by pushing me under water. I was able to get behind him where he could not reach me to pull himself up and flipped the two of us over so he was laying on his back, on my stomach. I started to order him loudly "just lay on your back and float, just try to relax and float I have you now. Good job, you're doing great. Just keep relaxing, great job, you're okay now."

At that point the other guy had caught up to us and had taken an arm as I took the other. We doggy paddled together at the same time dragging the exhausted man as if we was a water logged rope. Finally we reached shore after what seemed to be hours of swimming. By this time most of the beach had noticed what was happening and had rushed to our arriving point at the edge of the shore. The man that had swam with me then took over by wrapping his arms around the poor mans stomach, like a friend would do with an extremely drunk friend in need of a bed. They got the man seated and drinking water, and finally got the color to return to his face.

Oddly I nonchalantly walked back to my towel and laid down as if nothing had happened. The group I was surrounded by stared at me in silence with completely shocked faces. After I realized they were all standing at me I announced that I needed to get something from the camper. When I got to the camper my parents were inside and the second I saw them I starting bawling. I completely collapsed in their arms. I don't know why this was my reaction but there was nothing I could do but sob.

This obviously does not make me a hero that should be written about for years and years but for that day on the beach, for that very moment I got to discover how emotionally challenging it is to be heroic.

Where Are You Going Where Have You Been

This has been one of my favorite pieces of literary work that we have read this semester. I know that some people find it creepy. eiry, disscusting, or just simply not chill, but to me the reactions of the two main characters completely blows my mind and fascinates me a lot.

As far as Connie I can't imagine being swept off my feet like that so easily by Arnold Friends sweet words. I understand that most girls find find sweet, soft, complimenting words very seductive and tempting; however, that is just not what turns me on. (Before I go any further I should state very clearly now that I do not judge on any of these characters nor any people that would react the same way they do. Neither my reactions nor yours are right or wrong just different.) I am not very turned on by that cheezy talk, it only makes me feel like they can't talk about anything serious and important. It also makes me feel that they must not have a very interesting background at least not one interesting enough to discuss and connect with. I guess that is just look for more interaction than just hearing about the things that they notice just by seeing me for a couple of minutes or hours.

Arnold Friend's part I just cannot fathom the mentality of being a stocker, or rapist, or creeper, or whatever you consider his thoughts and actions. Most criminal actions and thoughts are not something I can even begin to wrap my head around, how they can sleep at night and how they feel comfortable being so uncomfortable. Just doesn't make since to me. But the way he moves and the way he speaks to Connie and his partner in crime remind me of some characterists of people that surround all of us everyday.

Those are only some of the qualities of the characters that keep my interest in this short story. Also another thing that entrigues me is the reality behind the theme of the story. The fact that this really does happen in life, not only that it was a real life scenario that inspired this story. Also, I love that the ending is an open ended cliff hanger that leaves the reader to complile a series of possible solutions and sort out which one their imagination believes in. It seems as though the author has left the story to be channeled directly in account of ones personality and who they best connect with in the story, who they want to win, change, suffer, or even die.

So that is why "Where are you going, where have you been?" was one of my favorite literary pieces that we explored in this class.

My Foil

Since our discussion in class about literary foils and then shortly after the discussion about the Will Ferrel movie, Stranger Than Fiction, I have begun to think about myself as someones literary construction and who or what my author would have as my foil. And after many hours of pondering I have found my foil, GRAVITY!!

Walking to class from my car often I find myself stumbling and tripping over just about anything. I can trip over my feet, the grass, the sidewalk, a rock, and even the very air that rest innocently under my every step. Gravity is something that I just don't see eye to eye with and we definitely challenge each other. Every time that I drop something it seems as though life has changed to slow motion as it slowly trickle towards the floor. As that happens my instincts kick in and I immediately reach to save whatever I have dropped from the tragic feeling of being overcome by gravity. And every time I catch said item I say to myself, "Self, point you!"

Although gravity seems to have the lead for now I think I will pull around in the points part of our relationship. :)

Presentations!!

So far everyone, the group presentations have been awesome!!



Group #2 (my group)

Great job everyone!! way to be dramatic in your acting and amusing for the audience to watch. I appreciate all your thoughts and ideas that were put forth during our planning stages and was very satisfied with the outcome.



For anyone that missed it, we created our own story that was a combination of all of our favorite morals from our favorite stories we read this semester. The story that we acted out was of a young girl whose mother had recently passed away and whose father was slowly loosing his sight and needed more help from the daughter around the house. The young girl wanted nothing to do with growing up and gaining more responsibilities and at one point says out loud, "I would do anything to stay young forever". Then the young girl was visited by a stranger who offered her the opportunity of a life time. He offered her twenty four hours to decide between eternal youth and growing up only to end up as sad and lonely as her father. Later that night as the young child drifted to sleep she was awakened by a ghost, her mothers ghost, that brought her to a dark and scary place. Her mother's ghost brought her to a room where a child lay bound by chains that hid from the light. She explained to the child that if she decided to chose eternal youth that is where she would go, to be abused and tortured for eternity. She continued to explain to her how much her father needed her and how much she meant to him. The child then awoke in bed unsure if it was a dream or reality that showed her such a miserable place but either way she had to make her decision within hours. When the time came, she made the right decision to grow up and asked the stranger to leave and never come back. She returned to her father and told him that she decided she was ready to grow up and help him with whatever he needed.

In case you didn't get a sense of the stories we chose to incorporate here they are:
Peter Pan- the desire for eternal youth
The Cathedral- the blind father in need of guidance
OMELAS/Brothers K- the idea of eternal torture of a child
The Lottery- the inevitability of death and torture
and many many more!!!

Nice job team we rocked it!! :)

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Americans and Their Holidays???

Today while looking over some notes in the SUB cafeteria I overheard an interesting conversation that made me wonder why we feel the need to celebrate everything! These two students were talking about Tuesday, April 20th being the non-government recognized holiday of national pot smoking day. Imagine that, an entire day dedicated to an herbal substance that is not even legal in most states. This made me curious about other holidays that this world is unaware of. So I went to my favorite research source, Google, and found a list of over 75 holidays for the month of April alone.
Most of them made no sense to why they would be so important that an entire day should be dedicated them. For instance some of the holidays are:
April:
1st- Have fun at work day
2nd- National Peanut Butter and Jelly day
4th- Hug a Newsman day/Walk Around Things day/Tell a Lie day
7th - No Housework day
8th- Draw a Picture of a Bird day
9th- Name Yourself day
11th- Eight Track Tape day
13th- National Scrabble day/Blame Someone Else day
14th- Ex Spouse day
16th- National High Five day/National Eggs Benedict day
19th- National Garlic day
22nd- National Jelly Bean day
24th- Pigs In a Blanket day
26th- Hug an Australian day
27th- Tell a Story day
29th- National Shrimp Scampi day

Now, it may just be me, but it seems like this is a little excessive. These are only part of the listed holidays and for April alone. Who came up with these holidays? Why did they feel like it was worthy of dedicating a whole day? Who celebrates them? And how do I get a National Please Dani's Every Need day?

Tears for a Fish

Garrett, please do not take this personally, this is not directed to you at all!!

We were informed today that Garrett would feel no real emotions if he had a pet fish that died. This is sad to me because I think that if he does not feel that a fish is worth a tear then he is missing what grief is all about. Grief is a process we go through after a tragic event, most often involving death. While experiencing grief we cry, sob, ball, shout, fight, pray, deny, blame, and think a lot. Most people grieve and know they are grieving for their own benefit to help them get over the tragedy they have experienced.

However, the truth behind grieving is to pay respect to whom you are grieving over. When a friend or family member dies by instinct we feel sad and hurt, and although it is in part of their absence, it is also because we instinctively want to make sure it is known they were loved and cared for. It is as though we feel they are still there and need to be shown that they did not die alone or in vein.

So although Garrett and others that don't feel like they need to grieve to help themselves through it is still important to grieve on behalf of the creature that lost its life. And everything on this earth deserves that respect.

No Child Deserves That

We had a discussion in class today that struck me right at home in the heart. The question at stake was is the torturing of one child worth the worlds eternal happiness? For me the answer is ABSOLUTELY NO!!!! I just feel so strongly about the fact that is NOT okay to volunteer someone to take on the worlds suffering. No child should ever be put through that, ever, especially if they did not ask for or want to take on those responsibilities. Just imagine for a minute (or reflect if you are already at this point in life) that you have a child or multiple if necessary. Now imagine that someone comes and takes them from you and informs you of the task they must complete; they must suffer to save the world from pain and suffering. That is your baby, who you brought into this world and promised to protect and give your life for. They have only you to trust and count on, they are part of you.

Some may say well what if it is not my child, what if I don’t know anything about them, who they are, what age they are, whether they are a boy or girl, then there is not that connection with them. This is true, there would not be that incredibly strong bond between them and you, however, that child still has that connection with someone else who brought them into this world and to take that from them would be an act that only the devil himself would do and still sleep at night.

No child deserves that, no mother deserves that, and if we are willing to do that, then we are not deserving of the outcome..

Thesis Statement

Today, in class we discussed a topic that I am often afraid of thinking about because of its dark, gloomy realization it brings, we are here to live a life of tragedy. I have often thought of this theory while in a stupor of teenage drama but the outcome always seemed to be the same; life is not tragic, the world is just out to get me right now. Anyone who has been or known a young teenage girl knows that this is a very frequented and over analyzed feeling. For some it can feel like the world is coming to an end and that it isn’t worth it to even try to make it through because nothing will ever go back to normal and life will never be as good! As you all know now, that is one hell of an over-dramatic, completely unrealistic, exaggerated, irrational way of thinking. I know that now and am able to laugh at myself for thinking so irrationally, however, it was not until today that I was able to approach comfortably the truth behind the tragedy we experience.

I have come to terms now with the idea of a tragic sense of life. We all strive our entire life to be the best, satisfy our needs and wants, find perfect love, have perfect friends and jobs, and stay happy the whole time. Now how unrealistic is that? From every good experience we have, we win something and lose something. When we get things like a new puppy we are really setting ourselves up to sob and weep as we bury him ten years later. When we have babies, we are really adding unimaginable stress, financially and emotionally, and limiting the fun to be had and the times to be spent. When we find a new “someone special” we are just begging for fights, and tension, and suffocating. We do all these things and more with the ability to see what is really to come of it but instead choose to be ignorant to it. The benefit of the moment takes over the thought of long term effects, and we consider ourselves satisfied, and hence life is worth it again.

This shows us that life is tragic, but we can find or pretend to find happiness within, and that makes life beautiful.

That right there is going to be my thesis to my paper about what I did not know before, what I know now, and how it has made a difference:

Life is tragic, life is beautiful.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Eaves dropping on the train

For spring break, my boyfriend and I took the train to Portland, Oregon to visit a good friend of ours. I found out the train is one of the best places to eaves drop on people and with 12 hours to do that I heard a very wide variety of discussions.
The cutest by far was the little girl that was probably about 3 talking with her parents about people on the train. She noticed that there was a family that was sitting in front of that and pointed out that they had a mommy, a daddy, and a baby. Then she turns to her parents and said, I have my family too, see, my mommy, my daddy, and me the baby. Then she paused and goes and we have our diaper bag. We are a family.
It was absolutely adorable, and anyone that cares for or has children knows that the diaper bag is what completes a family :)

Another conversation that occurred was between the guy sitting across from us and the man sitting in front of him. They started the conversation when the train attendant told them that if any couples or groups got on the train over the next few stops they would have to be moved to the back with the singles. As the attendant walked away one of them laughed and said well its not my fault my ex was a cheating whore and now I am single. They both chuckled and turned back towards the front. Then after a while the man that had made the first remark broke the awkward first words of a conversation and asked him where he was coming from and where he was going. the second man answered very honestly, explaining that he was coming from Portland to Havre , Montana to see his brother and fiance. His parents were making him do it and he was pissed because his brother was whipped and his fiance was a brat that didn't like her fiances brother.
They talked so openly and exchanged stories like this for almost an hour. I didn't realize right away but near the end of their conversation realized that they had not even exchanged names. How is it that people can feel so comfortable with someone even if they just met. Are we able to connect that well with strangers because we don't know them? Does it feel comforting that someone knows our deep dark secrets but we will never see them again? What is it about strangers that give the us the strongest feeling of connection?

You Don't Know What You're Saying Till You See What You Say

At first when our professor told us these wonderful words of wisdom I was completely lost in them. I tried to break it down into smaller chunks but all I came up with was; you don't know what you're saying; till you see; what you say. As you can probably guess breaking it down that way was not much help. Then after reading other peoples blogs I decided to come at it from a different direction, backwards. You see what you say; then know what you're saying. And that suprisingly made way more sense.

I not only realized what it was saying that it is intirely true!!!

You don't know what you're saying, till you see what you say. Everything that we say is only mysterious creations of our mind that force us to contimplate and obsess over the concern of it legitimacy. It is not until we see what we question that we are satisfied the reality of our original minds creations.

I hope that makes sense to some people but even if it doesn't I think the real message that should be taken from this blog is that even though you may not understand something the first few times you approach it not only is that okay, it is an excellant time to discover a new way of learning.

Professor Sexon you will appreciate this

Recently I have started watching all the movies I used to watch as a young child in hopes of being able to identify what stories and tales came before them but had the same plot line. In doing so I found a reference to the Brothers Karamazov in a 1986 film, "An American Tail".
As Fievel traveled from Russia to America, he lost his family along the way. He ends up meeting a cat named Tiger and this was their conversation that started their friendship.

Tiger: "I like butterflies with big golden wings and blue and green tips."
Fievel: "Me too"
Tiger: "I like Swiss Cheese Ice cream."
Fievel: "Me too, me too!"
Tiger: "You too-too? Wait a minute. What's your favorite book?"
Fievel: "Why the Brothers Karamozov."
Tiger: " The Brothers. I don't believe it!"

My made up bed time story for Max

When I was asked by the little boy I nanny to read him a story I asked if instead I could make up a story of my own. I asked him to pick what the story would be about and how old he wanted to main character to be. I am not sure why I chose him to decide those parts of my bedtime story but I suppose it is because age can change everything in a story. Anyways he asked to hear a story about a dinosaur and of course because he is four years old he wanted the dinosaur to be the same age.

Slowly I say to him, once.... upon.... a time... there lived a wonderful happy family of dinosaurs that roamed the open fields of Bozeman, amongst all the other types of dinosaurs. This particular family of dinosaurs had a mommy, a daddy, a son and two daughters. The son was the oldest and the only one of the family without beautiful blue scales that glistened in the sun and shown so bright that they could be seen even in outer space.His mother, father, and sisters had the most vibrant scales in the valley and were all very proud of their beauty.

One cloudy day as the family walked across the field to get a drink of water at the pond Little Max noticed a small butterfly floating across the sky followed by a trail of the shiniest dust. Max started following the butterfly with great curiosity. (I used this word in particular because yes the 4 year old boy used curiosity in context daily)

After following her for some time he asked, "Excuse me, where did you get your dust?"

"Well I didn't get it any where, I was born with it. It's beautiful isn't it?" she replied.

"Yes it is. May I have some? The rest of my family have wonderful scales sparkly just like your dust. Maybe then I can also have blue scales." Max timidly said to the butterfly.

"This dust is mine though. I was born with it and it looks good on me, if I loose any I will not be as beautiful."

Max lowered his head in sadness and turned to walk back to his family nearing the water hole. After a few steps Max felt a raindrop fall onto his nose. And another and another. He heard a soft scream and saw the butterfly begin to fall to the ground. Oh no butterfly, I have to help her get out of the rain thought Max. Bravely Max ran towards the poor helpless butterfly and scooped her up with his paw. He bolted towards the only tree in the field and made it just in time. All the sudden the sky seemed to open up and release every drop of rain it had.

Max placed the butterfly down on the ground under the safety of the giant umbrella tree and looked to see if she was hurt. Her wings had gotten wet so she could not get up and had fainted. But brave Max waited with her until the ski cleared up and the sun came out, when finally she woke up and saw her hero, Max.

"You saved me, dinosaur, you saved my life from the rain." She whispered. "Thank you Max for being so nice and helping me." The butterfly flew up from the ground and began circling Max. Suddenly there was a giant cloud of blue dust that was seen from all across the field and when it settled all the dinosaurs saw the shiniest bluest dinosaur of all. The butterfly still looked beautiful and made Max blue like his family. Max and the butterfly became best friends and always shared with everyone.


After I finished the story and left Max (The boy I nanny) to sleep I realized that I had just proved the point of our class, all stories are retellings . I had just told Max a made up story of my own that was really a retelling of multiple stories. The first few that came the mind were The Rainbow Fish, The Ugly Duckling, and characters from Peter Pan, and the Land Before Time. Because Max does not know or understand that all stories have been told and that we only write them again but with different details, he thought the story was amazing and new.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Live

As time goes on our lives may start to peel
like that of sweet yellow shells of lemons.
And yet through love we join our hands and feel
That in the end we all meet in heaven.
Our time on earth is worth more than riches,
So why must we forget and work to death?
And drive our goals straight into the ditches.
For now its time we all take a deep breath,
Its time we set all of ours stresses free
And let these things that hold us down fly far.
When we are sad and weak its hard to see
The greatness of the life outside the jar.
Yet in this life we must remember good
And try our best to live life as we should.

Linen and Sky (a found poem)

Time sweeps away
like a breath of fresh air,
fresh,
fresh air.
While effects of stale time,
stale,
stale time,
leaves the fresh scent
of stifling odors,
odors,
stifling odors.

I got these words from the side of a Febreze Air Freshener. It read; Febreze Air Effects is like a breath of fresh air any time because it actually sweeps away those stale and stifling odors while it leaves a fresh scent.
While washing my hands in my roommates bathroom, I noticed her Febreze bottle sitting on the counter and began reading the purpose of the spray. A few words that stuck out to me were fresh, air, stale, and stifling odors. Because these words stuck out to me most I decided to make them the words I repeated or emphasized more in the poem. I loved this activity because we were able to express our creative abilities within the guidelines of a simple activity.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Gnarly Childhood Memory

All though I have many unforgettable memories from my childhood, this experience seems to be the furthest back I can go with details.
I was only 4 years old and loving life on a hot summer day. All day I had been playing in my neighborhood with my favorite cotton shorts on and the one blue and green striped tank top my mom could never get me out of. I was riding my red push-pump scooter up and down the black paved road and waving to every neighbor I saw when I pulled over to let a car roll into my neighbors driveway. Again I smiled and waved and continued down the road while they all piled out of the car, a dad, a mom, a son, and a giant St. Bernard. I had not noticed the dog still wearing his leash bolting towards me as I pumped the back peddle with my navy blue flip-flops. The dog jumped over my extended leg and caught the handle to his leash on the back peddle which then wrapped around my leg. After he gave a hard pull my scooter tipped over and spooked him. He then took off running down the street my body and scooter dragging behind him.
He ran to the end of the street and finally heard his owner and came to a halt. They ran over to help along with five of my other neighbors who had heard my blood curling scream. One of my neighbors, Laura who was a nurse as well as my parents best friend, untangled my leg and scooped me into her arms. I was covered in road rash from head to toe and bleeding profusely from the back of my knee where the leash had wrapped around. Laura knew there was only one thing to do to keep me from getting massive infections all over my body, scrub me down. I will never forget how loud and painfully I screamed that day, and neither will anyone else that was within a one mile radius. She scrubbed me down from head to toe with a nurses course sponge and surgical soap and was crying the whole time feeling so bad for the pain she was causing me.
It took quite a while to heal but eventually I fully recovered and infection free thanks to Laura who still gets teary eyed thinking about my poor road rashed body :(

Sunday, January 31, 2010

The Reoccurance

Last night as I lay deep in slumber I had a dream that I vividly remembered when I woke up this, Sunday, morning. It seemed funny to me that the dream that I had was the one I dreamed the night of our assignment, because I have had this dream many times since I was a little girl. It is strange to me that it is a reoccurring dream that always has the same conflict and same resolution and yet I am always unsure what is going to happen next.
It starts of with me playing on the trampoline with my sister. As we bounce, rocketing one another into the blue sky I notice a shadow creeping up over my shoulder. I turn around to find a GIANT standing on the middle street of our 8 shaped neighborhood. I watch as he crushes his hand through my neighbors house living kitty-corner to mine. He pulls the family out, squishing them lightly as we spins them around, flopping their bodies up and down like raggedy-Anne dolls. He does voice overs for them play them out like a scene in a movie. Then he finally sets them down and goes for the next house.
Panic running through my veins, I bolt inside to warn my family of the terrible creature destroying my neighborhood. We all head for the crawl space with flashlights fear, awaiting him to strike our house and move on. Suddenly it happens. Crash, crumble, and crack, the roof of my house is removed like the top slice of bread on a sandwich as he begins to shuffle around our furniture. After rearranging the entire house he picks himself up and staggers on down the street. My family stays hidden in the back of the crawl space but I insist on going outside to check out the situation.
A deadly scream comes from an old house at the end of my road. Its old Mr. Metcalf, never really liked him anyways, the giant however did. He was playing a little to rough with Mr. Metcalf and squished the old man like fresh oranges Florida. But then the unexpected happened, the giant began crying harder than a baby. He places him down on the ground and whimpered at his lifeless body. That is when it hits me that the poor giant just wants someone to play with and that everyone is too intimidated by his size. So I ran back into the house and come out again with a perfectly blown up red balloon. i march right down the street and approach the beast. "Here you are" is all I say, while the giant looks at me with confusion. He grabs the balloon from me and cracks a smile. After that he stands up again and walks to the field bordering our houses and sits down with his red balloon and never bothers our neighborhood again. Then I jolt awake.
I have tried to Analise this dream many times but all I can decipher is that I really don't care for Mr. Melcalf. Let me know what you think :)

Monday, January 25, 2010

Emily Dickinson "Because I could not stop for Death"

This poem is one of my favorites! I can remember reading it in high school for the first time and feeling completely lost but after picking it apart I came to enjoy the wonderful darkness presented that brings peace to mind. By accepting Death we can live a more free life and by welcoming it when the time comes, we can pass on with a sigh of relief as
"We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess-- in the Ring--
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain--
We passed the Setting Sun--
Or rather--He passed Us"

:) my personal favorite part about the poem

e. e. cummings "in Just"

I enjoyed this poem. One of my favorite parts is how he connected the names "eddieandbill" and "bettyandisbel" whether he actually knew people with these names or not, there are definitely some people that just go so well with someone else that it is almost difficult to picture them apart.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Attempt #1

My first blog, I really hope it works!