Friday, January 26, 2007

Check out this blog!

Hey all...
This is the address to a new blog I'm writing. It's actually, I trial run for this one, so check it out. It's not fully finished yet, but the idea is there. Please leave me feed back, because I'm not sure if it's something that I'll keep doing or not. So, please let me know what you think. Thanks and enjoy!

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

What Really Amazes Me

What really amazes me, is the ability of something so small and meaningless, some action, word, or sound, to do, create, or make you think, new things.
Tonight I came as close to going to Africa as I have in my whole life. And I did it while working in a kitchen, standing behind a counter, serving people dinner. (we were serving spaghetti) How you ask did this take me to Africa? It was because Kadreah, the girl I was serving with, who is from Africa was banging on the counter. Yeah, banging on the counter. Kadreah is a drummer, (and a good one I might add) and she was pounding away on the poor defenceless metal counter all night long. At first I just listened, then I founded my head bouncing along with the beat. Soon it was all I could do to keep my hands from banging or snapping or clapping along. (However since I have a poor sense of rhythm I managed to refrain.)
Whenever the line slowed and I got a chance, I would sit down. But not Kadreah, she stood all night long and gave that counter what-for. I found myself staring off into space, and imagining Africa. Granted all I have to go on is TV documentaries and such, but a picture was forming in my head to coincide with the drumming. It's amazing how much a metal counter can sound like a set of drums under the right hands.
I saw the faces of Africa before me, tall, proud warriors, dark, smooth skinned women, young, lively children. Africa was as close and closer than it's ever been. And all thanks to someone pounding away on a metal counter top. Isn't that amazing?

Sunday, January 21, 2007

I Wonder

I wonder
I wonder if Hitler tended the fire when he was young?
If he carried the split logs into the house,
carefully arranged the kindling, starter wood, and logs.
I wonder if he struck the match,
and held it out until a tiny flame began to grow.
Did he watch as the flame became a fire?
As the kindling was consumed and the fire caught hold of the logs,
did he stare at the multi-colored magic
which danced before him across its personal stage?

Did he stay?
Did he watch the fire burn?
Did he see how the log, once good and whole, young and green,
became burnt and holed, charred and destroyed?
Did he take up the poker and knock away the charred outsides,
ridding the log of its outer skin
and providing the fire with a fresh stage, a fresh start?
Did he notice that when the old was knocked away
the fire burned brighter, the magic grew?
Did he ponder these things as he gazed into the fire?
Did he compare them to life?
Did he stay?
Did he watch the fire burn?
Did he continue to knock away
the charred, to allow more charring?
Till at last the fire burnt low,
and then died,
robbed of its stage,
denied further victims.
When the magic flickered, faded, and fled,
did he go?
Or did he stay.
Did he watch the last glowing embers die?
I wonder if he noticed that ridding
himself of the old, useless, and burnt,
had made the fire burn hotter, yes.
It had made the fire burn brighter, yes.
But it had also made the fire burn faster as well.
I wonder if he noticed that in the end,
the magic was gone,
and ashes were all that was left.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Why I love comics...

I went to a huge book store today, and had an absolute blast. They only have used books there, but they have close to anything you can imagine. Mainly really old stuff, but they do have some newish things. Anyhoo' some of my friends, and myself went there to kill some time.
OK, so we started on the third floor of this building, which isn't like a modern bookstore, it's this old building that might have been an apartment building or something. Anyway, to go from floor to floor, you have to go out into these stairwells that give the feeling of walking up the stairs in a parking garage or something like that. The stairs are iron, as are the rails, and the lighting in the stairwells isn't so great. This all lends you to a very unique feeling. It's just not a typical bookstore aura.
So, we decided to start at the top, and work our way back down. We opened that third floor door, to be met with that wonderful smell of old books. I love that smell. There's just somethings that leave their mark on a person, and maybe I'm just weird, but smells are something that affect me. It's like the way my grandma's house smells, it just comforting. Anyway, it was exhilarating! So, we pretty much just split up, and headed towards whatever section seemed to call to each one of us. I ended up in the poetry, and classics. I found Shakespeare, Chaucer, Sir Walter Scott, T. S. Elliot, Robert Louis Stevenson, Mark Twain, and so many others. *sigh* I could have stayed there all day. I remember looking at the date on one book, and it was 1856. I can't recall now which one that was, but I just love knowing that these books have been around for so long. Just think of what they've seen. I almost bought a copy of The Lady of the Lake, which I've yet to read, but my sis said she has it, so I figured I'd wait. Although we did find a Brit. Lit. book that has most of the stories our Brit. Lit. class will be reading, and since the teacher said he's OK with us using different books to read the stories, well...we bought it. Five dollars for that, vs. seventy-two something for the textbook seems like a no-brainer.
Now, on to what made my day. I was able to relive my childhood...which I have yet to grow out of entirely, actually. I spent at least an hour looking through the old comic that the had. They were amazing to me. Who wouldn't be willing to pay between fifty-cent, to maybe two dollars, for so classic comics? OK, most people probably couldn't care less...I understand this, but it saddens me to acknowledge this kind of lost appreciation in our world.
I always loved the super hero stories. I think it's because in their world, anything is possible...good guys really do triumph, the impossible is made possible, the underdog comes out on top. That has always been me. The underdog. I used to pretend that I too was a super hero, and in my mind, I always, always helped those that were looked down on. Those that weren't good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, strong enough, and so many other things. I always knew what to do to fix things. I could do the impossible, and nothing would stop me. Comics, well, for me...they're not just fun to read, which they are, but they end up being more. I guess this is where they symbolize sooo much for me. It's a life that I sometimes wish I had.
I've always been a fan of Marvel and DC comics, but my personal favorite good guy was Superman. He was my idea of a hero. I knew how to take care of people, and his normal life was anything but perfect. He was actually kind of a dork, but when he became Superman, well things always worked out for him. So, just a little secret about me. If you see me wearing a Superman's not just because I like him, or the shirt.(It's cause I'm looking for my, not really) Occasionally that may be the case, but usually it's because I'm really struggling with something, and wearing that is a strange comfort to me. It reminds me that I am strong, and that I can make it through tough stuff, because I already have, and God hasn't let me down yet...
OK, so now you know that I love comics. I ended up finding a Supergirl comic(that's the pic), which I of course bought. Then I got about eight others, about various heroes...

Wednesday, January 17, 2007


Friends are amazing.

For instance, take a friend whom you've only know for a matter of months. How is it that they can already tell so much about you that they know when somethings wrong, they know when you're down? Then of course no matter how annoying you have been, or what a pain you've been, they always try to cheer you up.

They know when I'm hurting, and they hurt too. The truly amazing thing is that it works both ways. I usually know when a friend is upset about something, and it cause my heart to literally ache for them! Especially when I can't just take things into my own hands and fix them.

Friends, true friends, uplift you, encourage you, they're a shoulder to cry on, and an ear to listen. It doesn't matter if they have problems too, friends help each other through. I love that God created us like that. Even though people can be cruel, and hurtful, they can also be that person you can turn to when no one else even cares.

Here's two quotes that I love about friends:
1. "What is a friend? A single soul, dwelling in two bodies."

2. "Friends are the family we choose."

This is a shout out to all my friends...I love you guys!!!

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Guys astound me!

I'll never understand guys...

They try to say that us girls are sooo hard to read...are you kidding me??? They are so stupid sometimes!!! And why is it that girls are supposed to just sit around waiting for some prince charming to come sweep them off their feet? Maybe, just maybe we get tired of that every now and then...besides who says I just want to wait on whomever decides to "pick" me? Maybe I want to pick who ever I have to end up with...did they ever think of that????? ARGH!!! Anyway, this is just the rantings of a retard in I'm shutting up now...good nite'

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Sleepless nights...

I've decided that another thing that amazes me is the ability to operate on virtually no sleep.

In example, when one comes to college they might have been used to staying up late, but most are used to being able to sleep in the following morning, or at least on that Saturday. This is not the case with college. Considering student work jobs on the weekends, or endless homework, christian service that must be done, or any manner of other things, there isn't always time to sleep in on Saturdays.
I know from my own personal experience that weekends are just as busy as a week day. I think I've had a sum total of five to six Saturdays that I was able to sleep in, and that my friends is being liberal with my estimates. I know this isn't necessarily true for all students, but probably so for most.

I'm amazed at how many students run off of three to six hours of sleep a night, and sad to admit, I am amongst that majority. I suppose being an avid coffee drinker does have it's perks, although sometimes it just doesn't cut it. That's when I start to notice heads nodding in chapel...this amuses me...until I realize that I to am beginning to doze. *sigh* I think that this problem is what eventually catches up with adults in their late sixties and causes constant napping in the
Also by this point any adult that used to be able to stay up by drinking coffee, well, their bodies have now built up a wonderful immune system to all caffeine products.

So in essence, college will come back to haunt us one day, and what seemed like important reasons to stay up, (such as writing blogs about loss of sleep) will all seem so trivial...

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

You know what amazes me...?

Cottage Cheese: Why do we choose to eat something that basically is curdled milk?

Babies: How do they ever end up talking normal with all the goo-goo, ga-ga that they hear?

Flip-Flops: How can a shoe be so addictive?

Dogs: Do they really end up looking like their owner...or is it vice-versa?

Computers: Are they really a help...or are they an evil invention made to cause the destruction of all mankind...and how is it that they always crash, die, and go kablooie when you need them the most???

Fire: Why can something so beautiful be so painful to touch...and why is the urge to burn things occasionally very strong??? (Little known fact...I have slight pyromaniac tendencies)

People: Why on earth do people read these things?