A Poem About How I Stalk Your Blogs and How You're All Incredible and A Shout Out to Eddie Mullins and if you still don't want to read it, I attached a picture of Obama riding a rainbow unicorn as an extra incentive. K Bye!

A Poem About How Much I'm Gonna Miss You Guys

By Becky Smiley

Everyone is all like,

"Omg it's my very last blog and I'm 

never going to write a blog

ever again".

It's sad. Because here's a secret:

I'm that creepy kid who ends up reading everyone else's blogs

allllll the time, just for fun. 

All year

I've been getting sidetracked and reading these things.

Mostly because on Thursday nights

at 11:15, I want to do everything EXCEPT for write

a stupid blog. So ya know what?

I just read yours. Why?

Because you guys are really interesting.

And like, I always want to comment

and just be like, "hey dude that was 

the funniest, most hilarious, most epic

open letter

that I have ever read",

or "wow. I like your opinions on stuff.

You've got yourself some great opinions".

Because you do. 

And you should all keep having

your interesting opinions

and complex thoughts 

and funny jokes

just like I keep having crappy poems that are

distinguished only as poetry

because of my indenting skills.

You know, half the time, 

I only indent because I think the poem will have 

a weird shape

if I don't. And sometimes even if I do.

The other half of the time, I think I'm going

for some kind of BS sound device or something.

Anyways, like I was saying earlier,

keep doing what you're doing

Because you're freaking awesome.

Even though it's Wednesday or Thursday and you have

seven thousand infinity other homework assignments

and you're not trying anymore

and you just want to get the fricken' blog post over with,

I'm still light-weight mind blown sometimes

at the stuff that you kiddos come up with.

Even the really boring ones of you who only blog

about literature and stuff,

I admire that. 

It takes a really good brain

and lots of self discipline

and maybe even an adequate love for learning

to sit there, on a Thursday night,

when you could be doing anything else in the world

to tell us your intricate thoughts

about literature. 

Like that's just freaking awesome,

 I bet you're going to succeed in life.

So keep on doing what you're doing, guys.

And we're all going to graduate pretty soon.

There's a good chance that

you wont even remember the creepy kid

that you just found out stalks your blogs

five, maybe ten years from now.

But you should remember this terrible poem

about how incredibly awesome I think you are.

And about how incredibly stupid

I think the art of poetry is these days.

And you can just sit there 

whenever you feel sad

and just be like

"One time, this kid in my English class

thought that the stuff that comes out of my brain

is really, really cool

or smart, or funny".

I can't quite generalize a characteristic

because you guys are all different...

you've done got your own styles.

So that's why I had to put all of the "or's"

in the above few lines.

I know it makes the poem sound less personal

but it's not. 

This is very personal. 

It's as personal as if I was sitting across from you

staring into your soul

right now.

You know what? Just picture that.

Or don't. Idk I was just

trying to make this feel 

as genuine as possible.

You don't have to picture that 

if you don't want to.

But yeah,

that's why I'm gonna miss all of you kiddos

and your really cool thoughts.

And mostly

Good luck at college. 

You're all gonna knock it right out of the ball park!

I think that's an actual saying

but I'm not sure.

But either way, you know it was meant to be encouraging.

Eddie Mullins, I know you're not going to college

So I can't really commence the poem

with a "Good luck at college" for you.

But hey, this poem is just as much for you too,

because I'm pretty sure you have to read these sometimes,

and I think your thoughts are cool and awesome as well.

They might even be better than Nicholas Spark's thoughts.

Idk what goes on inside of his head though,

so I can't quite say for sure. 

And in case you actually are reading this, 

and just got all salty because I used your first name,

Just know that I basically call all of my teachers

by their first name

behind their backs.

 It makes me only half as intimidated as I would be

if I had to address them by a last name

like I do to their face.

So that's a little bit of what goes on inside of my head

in case you were wondering, ever.

Which you might have been.

I don't think it will be a jeopardy question, though.

But yeah, thanks for resisting the urge

to rip my terrible essays to shreds all year.

Also, thanks for accepting my horrible poetry

as an art form.

Because I really feel like I'm getting some pretty sweet

self-expression done right here.

It's like I'm the Picasso of indenting lines.

So yeah, thanks for helping me find myself.

Also, thank you in advance for giving me

a solid 9 on that poetry essay that we wrote today.

(Look, I gave you this huge, entire

infinity line stanza of this poem and 

everybody else has stopped reading by now, probably

but I'm still going strong with this puppy

so I can just imagine how guilty you would feel

if you didn't give me a 9. 

The shame).

But really, you've been freaking awesome

and I sure hope I succeed on the AP Exam 

so that everybody can know 

how much of an awesome teacher you are

and how much homework you gave us

and graded and how hard you worked all year

so that we had a good chance at success. 

So yeah

Peace Out everybody.

And enjoy the picture of the unicorn.

See how beautiful and majestic it is?

It reminds me of you.

Make Up Blog #15: A Poem About Things I Am Good At

Things I Am Good At

By Becky Smiley

I'm bad at writing poetry.

I'm really bad at writing poetry.

But that hasn't stopped me from writing 

like, seven thousand infinity poems 

and putting them on the internet. 

This means that I am good at trying.

Or we could go even deeper

and say that I'm good at 

overcoming adversity.

I'm good at shapes.

If you notice above, I pretty much

made that stanza

look like a stop sign.

Almost.

Just picture it if the third line was shorter

and the fifth line was longer.

I always forget the name of the actual shape

that stop signs are.

In geometry, I used to LITERALLY

just call them "stop signs"

in my proofs.

"All angles are equal and add up to 360.

This means that Figure A

is a stop sign".

The teacher questioned me sometimes

but that's okay because

she liked how quiet I was and how

I didn't try to spell dirty words on my calculator

and how my handwriting was nice.

I can also draw a great free hand circle.

Everyone was always like "I hate geometry"

but you know,

I never really minded stop signs.

I minded triangles.

I minded the crap out of triangles.

But stop signs?

Nahhh.

I wanted to end my poem

with that last line.

But here's another thing:

I'm really REALLY good at having OCD.

I could never end something with an even amount.

Endings are for odd amounts.

I only named two things I'm good at.

But two is an even number.

I have to name three.

You know, sonnets bug the CRAP out of me

Because there's an even amount of lines.

Especially the Italian ones. It's really noticeable

Because there's only two stanzas.

And what more?

couplets.

Heroic couplets end a poem and they're only

two

lines.

I can't deal with that.

I sit there in AP Lit, and

I want to rip these poems to shreds.

Why? OCD.

You probably think that I'm overreacting.

But I'm not.

I'm just as salty about even numbers ending poems

as I am about the intercom lady when

she reads us The Grapes of Wrath and

sometimes even the Odyssey

at 3:10. 

Not 3:15, 3:10.

Well, that's all I have to say about that.

Have a nice day, don't do drugs, and mostly

don't drop out of school and become a hippie

even if you really want to.

Because I want to, but my parents just 

gave me a very stern talking to

about how being a hippie

is probably a bad decision in the long run.

Peace Out.

Make Up Blog #14: A Poem About Things I Am Bad At

Things That I Am Bad At

By Becky Smiley

Firstly I'm bad at rhyming.

I don't even know why I'm writing a poem

because I can't fricken rhyme.

Like honestly I try to rhyme but it just doesn't happen.

It's probably going to ruin my dreams of being a rap star.

Justin Bieber is all like,

"Never say never".

But too bad because I just said never

about my rap career.

Oops.

Secondly, I'm bad at writing poetry.

The thing about poetry

is that you don't even have to do anything except for

randomly

indent your lines.

See what I'm writing here? You probably don't

because nobody reads these blogs.

Except for you, Mr. Mullins! 

(Thanks, Eddie)

Anyways, it's just normal crappy speech

but somehow it's meaningful

and artistic

because I'm

indenting my lines randomly.

How do you like that? 

Are you catching the symbolism? There's lots of it.

Not really. But I'm sure you could find some

if you wanted to.

Or not.

Idk what you do in your spare time.

Once, I won a poetry contest

In 8th grade.

Basically, it was this stupid poem

about me breaking up with a cookie

and somehow the teachers thought it was comedy

so I was all like...

okay. 

And so they put it in a contest and 

BAM!

I won. 

But it was the biggest load of crap in the world

because basically i was just doing this.

Nothing rhymed, there was no symbolism or sound devices 

or anything redeeming at all.

In fact, I wrote it as a joke.

But then I won.

I won a freaking poetry contest.

So I guess you could call me a prodigy,

idk.

More likely,

you could just call people who fall for this kind of art

hipppies.

Peace Out.

A Poem About When I Was Once Bit By A Chicken

Once, when I was like...7, I was bitten by a chicken whilst feeding it alfalfa. Basically it changed my life and I'm kind of freaked out by chickens right now. Like, if you put me in a confined space with a bunch of chickens running around, I'd probably cry. Anyways, I wrote a poem about it and attached a picture of a chicken to add to the theme.

I Done Got Myself Bit By A Chicken

By Becky Smiley

I used to live in a world,

where kindness was treated with kindness;

Not a deed unnoticed

or debt unpaid.

But..in the blink of an eye,

You changed that

You nasty chicken, you

In the strike of a moment,

A waterfall...a waterfall rushing down

to destroy the flame of innocence within me

to destroy a perfect world

to destroy the flesh of my fore finger

to destroy love. trust. hope.

I hate you,

You nasty chicken, you

Confused, hurt, alone.

There I was,

A Band-Aid blanketing the whole of my forefinger.

But there was no Band-Aid

to blanket my soul. 

There was no Band-Aid

to cover the wounds of hate

to cover the slashes of intolerance

to erase away the rips and stabs and tears

to fade forever

the battle scars left upon my heart.

Trust, my friends, is a dirty word.

One that must never be spoken.

It's Technically Not Called Reusing Since I Wrote This To Be A Blog Before I Decided That I Could Submit It To LitMag For Extra Credit

An Insider’s View on the Common Misperceptions of High Schoolers

An Editorial by Becky Smiley

            As a senior in high school, I have often taken a considerable amount of time to reflect on my experiences over the past 4 years – the good, the bad, the exciting, and even the not so exciting. Most importantly, I have taken note of many misconceptions that we, as students, have been given as we enter the terrifying realms of that which is called high school. The following is a list of what I believe are the top ten most common, and most impactful misconceptions that high school student have made. To all my underclassmen out there, this one’s for you.

1.       It’s not okay to wear fanny packs to school:

       Oh yeah? Three words, my friends: Convenient. Central. Storage. Where are you going to put your all your chapsticks? Where are you going to put your band aids? Where are you going to put your tots so people who can’t just get their own tots during lunch won’t steal them? Your fanny pack. Look, kids. I know you think that pockets can solve this problem. They can’t. Take it from me - I’m a lifeguard, and I wear fanny packs EVERY DAY. Why? To save lives. Fanny packs save lives.

2.       You’re cool if you try to show off by doing a burn out in your Camry in the high school parking lot.

       You’re not cool if you do this. Yes, boys, I realize that there’s tons of hot babes all around. I mean, school parking lots these days, am I right? However, what girls really like is a nice, mellow, safe driver. What girls especially don’t like is when you drive 25 mph in the school parking lot whilst blasting your crappy music. Actions like, to the driver, may seem to say “I’m big and bad and watch out ladies ;)”, but to normal people witnessing such events, these actions actually say “I don’t know the difference between NASCAR and a high school parking lot, and I’m probably about to wreck this nice shiny black car that mommy and daddy bought me”. The latter statement is particularly unattractive.

3.       It’s okay to be that guy who taps on the table during a test.

       Wrong. If you’re that guy, chances are, most kids in the class want to tie you to a rocket headed straight for the sun and you’re more annoying than the lady that comes on the intercom every day at 3:10 to tell us the weather and maybe even read us the entire Grapes of Wrath while we’re trying desperately to finish up our timed test.

4.       In English class, When Given A List of Books To Read, Always Choose the Shortest One.

      False. The shortest books are always the toughest books. You’ll have to get all analytic and there’s going to be all this symbolism and literary devices and you won’t like that. Pick a long book. Sometimes – as in the case of The Lord of the Rings – long books are long because they have stories worth telling. Don’t sit there and tell me that The Lord of the Rings wasn’t worth telling.

5.       Drugs Are Good.

       Drugs are bad. Definitely not something you should be storing in your fanny packs.

6.       You have to bring tons of pencils to the ACT:

        Bring your calculator the ACT, bring your ticket to the ACT, bring your glasses to the ACT, even bring your thinking cap to the ACT. But don’t worry about pencils. The teachers are going to hate me for this one, but I’m just going to say it anyways: Every ACT that you take is an opportunity to score yourself some free pencils. Look, you guys, they have buckets of them. Buckets and buckets full of sharpened, bite mark-free pencils in mint condition. Just put on your sweet and innocent face, explain to them that you forgot #2 pencils, and then help yourself to pencils galore.

7.       Eyebrows aren’t  important:

         I think we all go through times in our lives where we are displeased with the particular placement of our eyebrows on our faces and are tempted to shave them off. But fear not, young padawans, because that's just what makes us human. Look, teachers will tell you all the time that we’re “human” because of our DNA or our complex brains or our opposable thumbs. Don’t worry, they’re all wrong. We’re human because sometimes we doubt our eyebrows, and that is okay. Take good care of them.

8.       Erasable Pens Aren’t Real:

         Erasable pens are real.  You can use them on math tests, essays, speeches, love letters, whatever. I don’t care. Find them at a Walgreens near you.

9.       Expect the Unexpected

   I’m talking about snow days here, you guys. Definitely expect the expected which is most always “We still have school”. It gets your homework done and makes that moment when they call a snow day at 5am all the more glorious.

10.   High School Is A Bad Place.

       I put this one last because it’s the most important. Look, I know you hate homework and you hate tests and you hate scantrons and you hate when those dang Canadians club baby seals. This doesn’t make high school a bad place, I promise. Look around you. There’s tons of weirdos just like you. The problem is that you haven’t realized it. I know you think a bunch of really interesting things in your head like “What is déjà vu for?”, and “Why instagram your PB&J” and “Do dinosaurs go to heaven” and “Do polar bears even appreciate that we’re trying to save them?” and “Why pay three dollars for designer chapstick that comes from the secretions of bees like…ewww” or maybe even “How did humans think up unicorns if they never even existed? Have dogs also thought up the idea of unicorns?”This is high school! Look! There’s a gigantor pool of people around you who are probably wondering the exact same things. If you try talking to them and making friends, you’ll find those weirdos out there who are just like you. And if you ask me, that’s what high school is all about. So next time you’re fixing your hair in the bathroom, go ahead and ask the girl next to you that you see in the hallway every day her thoughts on unicorns because I promise you that finding good friends is always worth the risk. High school is only boring if you make it boring.

         

Awko Taco Movie Moments

      I can't blog about outside reading without it being boring and I especially can't blog about Beloved without it being boring. So...I know this isn't relevant to English class, but I would like to talk about movie soundtracks. As a musician/composer, music in movies especially stands out to me. In exactly the same way memorable movie quotes and film characters find their places in popular culture, film themes and scores have dug their way into our collective subconscious, but in a much more subtle and less obvious way. I think that too many times we see a film score as simply a 'tool' in movie making. I cannot even stress how wrong that notion is. Soundtracks enhance movies to the point of salvation. For example, have any of you ever seen All The Kings Men? If you have, you know what the "Nail Em' Up" speech that I'm about to reference is. If you haven't ever seen the movie, scroll down to the bottom and please enjoy a quick tangent by Sean "Please Give Me An Oscar For This One" Penn. 
    Okay...so now that you've watched that, I want you to imagine this guy doing his speech without the background music. HE WOULD LOOK LIKE A FLAMING PSYCHO. Nobody would vote for that, and we wouldn't be on the edge of our seats all like "Woooo! Nail em' up!! That's right Willie Stark, you done tell the government who's boss!". Instead we'd be all like "Go home, Willie. You're drunk." But we didn't tell Willie Stark to go home because James Horner created a magnificent theme with an upbeat that pushed Penn through to the end of that speech. There's so many scenarios when these types of things happen. I'm sure most of you have seen the Lord of the Rings, yes? And if you haven't...sorry but we can't be friends anymore. Anyways, what if King Theoden didn't have background music while he was giving his big battle speech before the Rohirrim charged at the massive orc army on the Pelennor Fields? The scene would be 12 times less powerful and we'd just be all like "Crap, I hope they don't die or anything" but instead we're all like "WOOOO! 'MERICA!!" so THANK YOU HOWARD SHORE. Anyways, I leave you now with a list of some of my favorite soundtrack composers that made would-have-been awkward moments into the most powerful scenes in movies.

1. Thomas Newman (The Shawshank Redemption, Skyfall, Finding Nemo, Road to Perdition, The Road, The Green Mile, etc etc).

2. Hans Zimmer (Inception, Pirates of the Caribbean, Gladiator, The Dark Knight, Sherlock Holmes, Transformers)

3. Howard Shore (The Lord of the Rings, Twilight...not that I even like that movie, but we'd all be laughing at Bella instead of feeling sad for her if his music wasn't playing in the background)

4. And there's like infinity others, but I don't have time to list them all and it's not like anybody is going to read this anyways.

Link: Sean Penn as Willie Stark in All the King's Men, "Nail 'Em Up" speech.

An Open Letter to The Intercom Lady Who Makes Announcements Every Day At 3:10

   
Initially, I was going to write an open letter to the intercom lady who talks every day at the end of 4th block. But then I realized that there are a lot more people I would like to write open letters to. So here's a few open letters dealing with some big issues that have been on my mind of late:

1. The Intercom Lady
Dear Intercom Lady,
          It's like every day at the end of 4th block you have to read the entire Grapes of Wrath to us. Stop talking. The teachers are trying to wrap up their lessons, I'm trying to finish my test, and you are NOT trying to be concise. See this? This is what concise looks like.
                                                                                     Love,
                                                                                         Becky.

2. The State Legislators That Enforced End of Course Exams:
Dear State Legislators,
          You haven't been in a classroom in 40 years. But who cares...I bet you must have soooo much knowledge about how modern day classrooms and classes work, you clever legislator, you! I mean, why listen to the opinions of the teachers that work in classrooms every single freaking day? They're clearly not as special as you because they don't run around in pant suits and make crappy stickers of themselves to get elected. It's really cute that you think you can sit up there on your high horse and enforce mandatory exams that make up a huge portion of students' grades. It's even cuter that  rather than easing us into exams, you decided that it would be cool to not let the teachers know what content is going to be on the exam and then make it a huge portion of our grades anyways. Cutest of them all is probably that you placed the exams in April because that definitely won't cause cramming, will it? I'm kidding. You're not cute and I think your ideas are a complete joke.
                                                                                     I don't love you,
                                                                                                      Becky.

3. Annoying Kids In the Dunbar School Parking Lot:
Dear Annoying Kids In the Dunbar School Parking Lot,
         If you blast your crappy music with the windows down and drive 25 mph in the parking lot in the expensive car that mommy and daddy bought you whilst refusing to yield to other pedestrians and cars that may be in your trajectory, I'M TALKING TO YOU. Nobody wants you here. Nobody even thinks you're cool. It's just annoying and you're gonna hit something or someone. Nobody is impressed by 25 mph so I don't even know why you think speeding through like a total d-bag is worth it. It's not getting you anywhere. You're stupid. You're really, really, really stupid. So stop acting like the school parking lot is a NASCAR race and go home.
                                                     Sincerely,
                                                            Everybody. Because everybody is annoyed with you.

Why All of You Are Wrong and I'm Right: A Minor Tantrum on Name Pronunciation.

       Bad at spelling? Nah. I'd rather write this blog about the issue of being BAD AT PRONUNCIATION. Why, though? Here's why: Sethe's (from Beloved) name is pronounced as such:

S-ehh-th.

Not "Seth-eeee" or See-thee" or "S-ehh-thh-uhhhh". You guys...those aren't even names! Like, nobody comes up with that. Her name is pronounced as it is bolded above. Here is why:

1. Seth is a name that is very plausible. There are many people who are named Seth. 
2. Typically, in most Western languages, an "e" is added to the end of a girl's name to assert that it is feminine and belongs to a girl. This "e" added at the end is most always silent. We should therefore logically conclude that "Sethe" is simply the feminine version of "Seth". Here are a few examples:
• Lucille (pronounces as "lew-seal", not "lew-silly" or "lew-sill-uh".
• Vivienne
• Danielle (This is an especially good example because we see that it is the feminine form of "Daniel".)
• Brianne
3. Notice that the above names had two consonants (a consonant blend) preceeding the SILENT "e" at the end of the name. In classic English phonics, when an e comes after two consonants, the "e" is silent and the vowel preceeding the consonant blend is not pronounced in its capital form (ex, "a" would be pronounced "ahh" as in "fat" instead of like "ayyy" as in "face"). Therefore, we can conclude that "See-thee" is out of the equation. Here are a few examples of what I mean:
• Moustache (pronounced "moo-stash", not "mooo-stay-ch-eee")
• Toilette
• Blithe (pronounced "B-lie-th", not "B-lith-ee")
• Binge
4. Yes, I understand that there are exceptions to the rules. There are SO many exceptions to the fricken' rules! But here's what doesn't make sense to me. Why can't we just follow the rules with this one, you guys?! Why are you so quick to conclude some obscure name that nobody even thinks of when the normal pronunciation that sounds like "Seth" makes so much sense?!!!! I just don't get it. I want to scream every single day in class because I'm just like, "Why are we saying this? Seethee isn't even a name!!!". 
5. It doesn't even make sense as a name. Nobody else in that book, despite how weird it is, has a name that is completely unusual for the English Language. Even Baby Suggs sounds like an ENGLISH nickname. Pronounced with English Phonics.Here's some examples of how normal (as in plausible) every single other name is there:
• Amy Denver, Baby Suggs, Denver, Paul D, Beloved, Mrs. Bodwin, Horace, Bulgar, Schoolteacher, Mr. and Mrs. Garner.....ALL OF THESE ARE NORMAL. Morrison just "out of the blue" isn't going to call a character some weird name like "Seethee" or "Seethuh" or "Sethuh". 
6. Toni Morrison is a weirdo. We all know she's a weirdo. I mean, look at this book! She knows she's weird, we know she's weird, and if she wants a name to be pronounced weird, she's gonna spell it weird because I think she's OBVIOUSLY pretty proud of her weirdness. If Morrison wanted it to be Seethee or Sethuhh or Seethuh or whatever weird stuff you guys keep throwing out there in class, she would be bold and spell it that way so she could continue to say to the world "Look at me! I won a Nobel Prize AND I'm a weirdo!". 

So please. Please somebody read this blog and please be normal about pronouncing. That's all I ask.

Everybody Loves Snail Mail

      I never read the link attached to the prompt, but as soon as I saw the question "When is the last time you received a hand written letter?" on Mr. Mullins's blog suggestions, I knew that it was mine to answer. I, Rebecca Anne Smiley, am probably the world's biggest advocate of hand written letters. To answer the question at hand, the last time I received a letter was a little less than two days ago. So why do I love letters so much? The list could go on for days, but my top reason is that they mean so much more than a text or an email or any other electronic form of communication that has replaced the snail mail belonging to years far before our generation. Here is why: Any one of us could just turn on our computer and begin typing and simply press "send" when we wish to contact someone. A letter, however, takes so much more effort than this. When someone writes a letter, rather than just sending a message like "hey watsup man?", they're sending a page full of their own thoughts that don't need to be immediately replied to. These thoughts are complex and they're thought out, and rather than just having a fragment of what your counterpart wants to communicate to you, you have an entire document in which they express themselves. As well, in writing letters, the writers are encouraged to communicate ideas in an eloquent manner that we have become quite accustomed to abandoning completely whilst conversing through the screen of a phone or a computer. Further, because there is no quick reply option, the writers of letters are forced to complete entire thoughts. Letters encourage thought complexity and have genuine meaning, whereas electronic mail encourages the utmost simplicity in communication. My favorite things about letters, despite all of this, is that you can keep them forever. An email can be printed, but that wastes ink and the originality of that person's handwriting and spelling skills are lost. A text can be saved, but we all know that phones don't last forever. So yeah, let's keep the snail mail going.

The Things They Carried

     Normally when I blog, I don't take things too seriously because I am aware of the fact that nobody ever reads these things. However, this one is going to be good because Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried was unlike any other novel that I have ever read before. As a reader, I was completely sucked into this narrative from the first few pages when O'Brien skipped straight to the point and started naming off  all of the things that the soldiers in his Alpha company carried. The way he did it, though...it was beautiful. I want to use the word poetic, but I know that it could never really do justice to the way that O'Brien characterized the young soldiers in a way that I never even thought a wartime author would. Each soldier was given a set of items: weapons, survival essentials, food, etc. Exactly what you would expect from an American soldier deployed in Vietnam. More than that though, they were each intimately characterized by the things that they carried which they held so dear to them. Kiowa carried his grandfather's hatchet and moccasins, Cross carried letters from the girl he loved, Tim Lavendar carried dope and tranquilizers because he was terrified of dying. It was these little things that reminded the reader that these were normal guys, barely even adults, just like the rest of us who were forced to go overseas and kill so that they would not be killed. The line that struck me the most, though, was after O'Brien listed off all the weapons that the Alpha Company carried, putting the burdens only in terms of weight: AK-47s, M-60s, smoke grenades, killer grenades, chains of ammo, and a lot more things that I can't really remember. But after listing off all of this, O'Brien writes "But most of all, they were all in a silent awe of the things they carried". These young men have been given tools that could destroy massive amounts of human life, as well as maybe save their own, and their "silent awe" just goes to show their shock  in actually having to accept that their job - the reason why they were sent to war - was to kill. Especially because this narrative is told by a Vietnam veteran drafted against his will, it really opens up a whole new perspective. It also makes the source reliable because we, the readers, can know for a fact that O'Brien isn't trying to dramatize something that he's only seen in the movies. He tells it like it was so that he can keep the memories of the men in his company alive.

     The book is also filled with numerous other narratives following The Things They Carried. Each one drew new insight into O'Brien's past in Vietnam and how it has shaped his present day life as he attempts to find closure for all of the events that happened. My only regret is that I only had an hour in class to write about this book because it honestly deserves a lot more explaining than just one hour will allow. So yeah...for those of you who like to read for fun, check this book out. There's like 12,000 copies of it in the library.

I Used A Vocab List 8 Word In My Blog Today

Today I would like to blog about how stupid it is that the Fayette County Public Schools administration won't call obvious snow days until 5:30 in the morning. I believe that this topic is relevant enough to school to blog about.

    Firstly, let's look at some facts. Fayette county ices their roads primarily with a Sodium Chloride compound salt. What rock salts like NaCl do is create a freezing point depression. This means that they simply lower the freezing point of water by disturbing chemical equilibrium. Sodium Chloride is capable of ionizing and doing this until temperatures drop below 20 degrees F, in which case the salt simply forms a layer of salt over the ice and no ionization occurs. Currently, the temperature outside is far below that, especially considering wind chill. I am aware that they also store in their reserves salt brine and liquid calcium chloride, which are effective until temperature drops well below 0 degrees. However, these are stored and used in much less quantity because they are more expensive. As well, they are generally applied before anticipated conditions, and we saw little of this happening during the day today before the onset of the storm. For the board to sit there and say that conditions have a good enough chance of being sufficiently better on the roads by tomorrow morning , it seems that they are not taking anything into consideration except for their own rudimentary insight which seems to simply include the effect of "time" and "is it still snowing or not?". The de-icing procedures that have been implemented today seem to simply have been "not enough" to have prevented such horrible driving conditions as the ones that Fayette county citizens have experienced well on into the night.

My point is that by waiting until 5:30 in the morning to call off school, the FCPS administration is wasting working parent's time who need to hire babysitters, employed students who could have scheduled to work extra shifts if we had known school was cancelled much earlier than 5:30 am, and the time of dedicated students who could be sleeping rather than staying up till 3 am just to do their homework. This is preposterous (note the use of a vocab list 8 word used. Go AP lit!).

Cavemen Who Obviously Made Bad Life Choices.

      Too many people are saying that they hated the ending of The Road. Well, for me at least, hating the ending isn't enough. I hate the entire book. Something about the constant bleakness and lack of light in both a metaphorical and literal sense reminded me too much of winter, which is also bleak and lacking in light. During this process of pondering, I am always reminded that "oh yeah, it's winter outside right now!", and then I am lost in a pool of depression. You know, there is this theory that humans almost always become more depressed in the winter because - naturally - our ancestors spent the entire season hibernating. This means that it is in our DNA to hibernate just like all other sensible mammals who know how to make good life choices.We are all sad because we should be hibernating, too. But we aren't. Instead we're blogging at 11:40 pm and eating cheerios because we have to. So, to whatever caveman thousands of years ago who said to himself "LOL hey we should try to stay awake all winter #YOLO"...I have three words for you: bad life choice. It is only now, in 2013, that we have finally realized that any idea preceding the phrase "YOLO" is usually a bad life choice. Our entire species has made a bad life choice.

    There is, however, one aspect of The Road that I really did like: the ending. Sure the dad dies. But hey, the dad wanted to die. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the need to protect his son. The way that I see it, the son's presence on earth didn't make the father's wish to live any bigger than it already was. Rather, it gave him a sense of duty and obligation; because he loved his son he had to look out for him. When the father dies, he is torn from his misery and hopefully gets to be reunited with everybody that he has lost. The father has also accomplished his goal. For the entire novel, the father had one thing in mind: his son's safety. Some may argue that reaching the coast was his main goal. I think that he knew within at least 50 miles of the coast that nothing in the atmosphere would be any different - the sky would not be lighter, the ash would not disappear, and civilization would still be wrecked. When the father dies, his son is taken into safe and loving hands with a family that looks after him and has faith. Henceforth, the goal of the entire novel has been accomplished. High five on that one, Cormac McCarthy!

College Essays and How I am Not Inspired

       Right now I am convinced that I am the only person in the world who has procrastinated their college admission's essays. The past few months I have justified my procrastination as acceptable for several reasons: Firstly, I am only applying to one college. Secondly, I don't even want to go to college. Thirdly, I've already written enough scholarship essays and I don't see how I could possibly take any more essay-writing torture. Fourthly (if 'fourthly' is in fact a word), I can't imagine how my writing, especially with those terrible essay prompts, would especially charm any admissions officer over any other essay that has been written thus far by students who are far more eloquent writers than myself. But before you start judging me too harshly, just know that my situation isn't completely terrible - I've already finished 2 of the 3 admissions essays. What makes that third essay so hard to write is the fact that nothing I have learned in school has ever really inspired me, and so now I have absolutely no truthful way to address the prompt. In fact, I don't think that school has ever inspired me at all. I am hardly ever interested in the facts and concepts that we are forced to sit in a classroom and learn every day...in fact, I have a hard time even being interested at all. What really inspires me are people and what I see them do in the every day world; they overcome struggles, invent things, help others...just all of this stuff. I even think that my teachers are inspiring because how on earth does somebody stand in a class room and handle a bunch of teenagers who would very obviously rather be doing something else? And how does somebody read through 60 different essays on the exact same topic when the handwriting is barely even legible? I don't even know but it blows my mind. Another thing that inspires me is technology like computers and cell phones because how does somebody even come up with that stuff? It's just crazy. But see, I never actually learned about these things in school. So yeah, I'm still in an essay writing rut.