Cavender says I hafta post ;P And we talked a lot about this subject today, so he suggested I post about it. Way to open the door for a Kendra Rant, Cavender XD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whether your thoughts are on summer being so close you can taste it, or exams beating you over the head with a 2x4, school is most likely on your mind this time of year.
I'm one of those people who hates school, but loves learning. Every once in a while I can step back and agree that school is really important and it gives you a great foundation for the rest of life.
But some people just plain hate school. They don't see the point. You know what? I don't think that's their fault. I think it's the school's fault.
Schools these days aren't giving you knowledge, they're teaching to test. They're teaching you exactly what you need to know to pass. They don't expect you to understand. They don't expect you to know how to think. They don't expect you to be able to apply what you learn. In my opinion, that's robbing you of half your education.
School should be directly related to life. I'm not saying that it is, I'm saying that it should be. Teach us how to think, not how to spit information back at you. Teach us to read, understand, and be able to communicate ideas. Teach us history so this next generation won't make the mistakes we've repeated for centuries.
You know what I think? I think school is not supposed to be about fitting yourself into an academic box and making good grades. I think school is supposed to be about empowering ourselves with knowledge. Giving ourselves a solid foundation of numbers, logic, history, English, biology, physics, art, music, current events, and public speaking. We go to school to get a foundation that we will use for the rest of our lives!
Every subject we learn is integrated! Our Creator did not just make a bunch of independent subjects to be studied! He made everything fit together in beautiful and delightful ways! He left behind all this knowledge, just waiting for us to soak it in and see how it all works together. When we don't embrace our education, we're cutting off part of what makes us in God's image.
School should not be where our parents shove us because that's just what you do. School should not be about becoming popular because a full social calendar is what it's all about. School should not be where our curiosity and creativity are squashed to promote class efficiency. School should not be a place where we are brainwashed because that's how we're supposed to think.
School should be where we go to soak in the knowledge that God has created for us to learn! School should be about making strong friends who will help you become who you're supposed to be. School should be where we're encouraged to ask questions and be our own person. School should be a place where we're not told what to think, but given the tools to draw our own conclusions.
School should not be about facts or about grades. School should be about gaining life skills in specific areas and learning to think. Because when it comes down to it, understanding HOW to think is a lot more useful than being told WHAT to think.
~Kendra
Showing posts with label today. Show all posts
Showing posts with label today. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
tExTiNg PaRt ThReE: The Good
Click to read PART ONE and PART TWO.
So, I think we can all agree on a few things:
1) Texting is becoming increasingly popular
2) Teens text a LOT
3) There are both pros and cons to texting
Today I want to focus on the pros, The Good.
While it's easy to see why lots of people (primarily adults) have problems with SMS, there are a lot of really helpful things about it. First good thing, convenience.
Texting is extremely convenient. You whip out your phone, press a few buttons, and you've communicated. Simple, fast, and discreet. It's especially helpful in situations where you want to do something under the radar. Quickly texting your parents to get you out of a party with drugs and alcohol. Texting a friend to remind them not to say anything about a surprise party. Letting your mom know that Dad's home so she can hide his birthday present. Things like that are MUCH harder to do when you have to make a phone call. Sure, you can leave the room if you're discussing something private, but in the case of surprises or awkward situations, that just makes it worse.
Texting instead of calling also provides you with time to consider your response. Something a lot of people struggle with is saying things they later regret. With a text, you can read it, think about it, and type drafts of what you want to say. If you're on the phone with someone, there's only so long you can think before the silence goes way past awkward. There are some things you'd rather not answer at all, and texts are much easier to ignore than someone yelling in your ear.
There are also fewer misunderstandings in writing. With all the he said-she said junk that can go on, it's helpful to have records of what was said. It's a lot simpler if you're in a crowd or somewhere loud, too. Getting a text that says, "This is the longest hour of my life" will never be misunderstood as "I'm having an affair with your wife." When people are yelling at each other through cellphones, stuff like that could, and does, happen XD
It's also easier to remember information . If someone texts your their house address, you can refer back to it instead of trying to hold it in your mind as you drive.
Then, the most popular reason to text: It's just less awkward. All the above reasons play into this. You can respond when you want to. You can ignore it if you want to. You can think about your response. There are no awkward silences. There are fewer misunderstandings. It's easier to remember things. It's just less awkward! People that you would NEVER feel comfortable phoning you can text. It's like email. Or IM. For one reason or another, texting is a more comfortable and safe-feeling way to communicate than calling.
And there you have it. The Good of texting.
It's convenient.
It's quick.
It's discreet.
It provides time to consider a response.
It eliminates awkward silences.
It removes more misunderstanding.
It makes things easier to remember.
It's just less awkward.
'Course there are some definite downsides to texting. Stick around for The Bad ;)
~Kendra
So, I think we can all agree on a few things:
1) Texting is becoming increasingly popular
2) Teens text a LOT
3) There are both pros and cons to texting
Today I want to focus on the pros, The Good.
While it's easy to see why lots of people (primarily adults) have problems with SMS, there are a lot of really helpful things about it. First good thing, convenience.
Texting is extremely convenient. You whip out your phone, press a few buttons, and you've communicated. Simple, fast, and discreet. It's especially helpful in situations where you want to do something under the radar. Quickly texting your parents to get you out of a party with drugs and alcohol. Texting a friend to remind them not to say anything about a surprise party. Letting your mom know that Dad's home so she can hide his birthday present. Things like that are MUCH harder to do when you have to make a phone call. Sure, you can leave the room if you're discussing something private, but in the case of surprises or awkward situations, that just makes it worse.
Texting instead of calling also provides you with time to consider your response. Something a lot of people struggle with is saying things they later regret. With a text, you can read it, think about it, and type drafts of what you want to say. If you're on the phone with someone, there's only so long you can think before the silence goes way past awkward. There are some things you'd rather not answer at all, and texts are much easier to ignore than someone yelling in your ear.
There are also fewer misunderstandings in writing. With all the he said-she said junk that can go on, it's helpful to have records of what was said. It's a lot simpler if you're in a crowd or somewhere loud, too. Getting a text that says, "This is the longest hour of my life" will never be misunderstood as "I'm having an affair with your wife." When people are yelling at each other through cellphones, stuff like that could, and does, happen XD
It's also easier to remember information . If someone texts your their house address, you can refer back to it instead of trying to hold it in your mind as you drive.
Then, the most popular reason to text: It's just less awkward. All the above reasons play into this. You can respond when you want to. You can ignore it if you want to. You can think about your response. There are no awkward silences. There are fewer misunderstandings. It's easier to remember things. It's just less awkward! People that you would NEVER feel comfortable phoning you can text. It's like email. Or IM. For one reason or another, texting is a more comfortable and safe-feeling way to communicate than calling.
And there you have it. The Good of texting.
It's convenient.
It's quick.
It's discreet.
It provides time to consider a response.
It eliminates awkward silences.
It removes more misunderstanding.
It makes things easier to remember.
It's just less awkward.
'Course there are some definite downsides to texting. Stick around for The Bad ;)
~Kendra
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
tExTiNg PaRt OnE: Intro
Some of you may know that I have a cell phone. Some more of you may know that it is a red LG Shine that hates me. Even more of you might know that I like to text. Very few of you know that I lost this privilege yesterday.
Why? My parents don't want me texting too much. They feel like it's unhealthy, it fragments your brain, and distracts from who you are with right now. I admit, those are valid points. I started out only having 200 texts a month. That's like 3 texts, counting both sending and receiving, per day.
The average American teenager sends about 80 a day. So yeah, 200 a month did not work for me at all.
My parents eventually agreed that 200 was kind of a conservative number, and moved me to the 1500 plan, as long as I promised only to use 600 of them.
This month's cell bill just came up.
I sent over 1600.
*sigh*
Now, when you look at the statistics, that's not unreasonable. On average, teens send and receive 2272 a month. So really, I'm not that bad.
BUT. That's not the point. The point is that I didn't follow through with my part of the plan. My parents weren't going to let me have texting at all, but they decided that 200 was okay. I blew it big time there, costing them a lot of money. We renegotiated, and I was allowed to send 600. Well, I blew it again. As much as I really think I can stay within the limit, I'm not gonna get another chance, at least for a while.
I stand firm that 600 texts a month isn't a lot, and even 1600 isn't too many. My grades have been okay, and texting has not been interfering with my family life. However, as an aspiring lawyer and one who values justice over mercy, I can see exactly why I lost texting. It was fair. No, it was more than fair. I got three shots and blew them all. Maybe I'll have better luck in a few months :)
Stay tuned for Texting Part Two: Where Do We Stand?
~Kendra
Why? My parents don't want me texting too much. They feel like it's unhealthy, it fragments your brain, and distracts from who you are with right now. I admit, those are valid points. I started out only having 200 texts a month. That's like 3 texts, counting both sending and receiving, per day.
The average American teenager sends about 80 a day. So yeah, 200 a month did not work for me at all.
My parents eventually agreed that 200 was kind of a conservative number, and moved me to the 1500 plan, as long as I promised only to use 600 of them.
This month's cell bill just came up.
I sent over 1600.
*sigh*
Now, when you look at the statistics, that's not unreasonable. On average, teens send and receive 2272 a month. So really, I'm not that bad.
BUT. That's not the point. The point is that I didn't follow through with my part of the plan. My parents weren't going to let me have texting at all, but they decided that 200 was okay. I blew it big time there, costing them a lot of money. We renegotiated, and I was allowed to send 600. Well, I blew it again. As much as I really think I can stay within the limit, I'm not gonna get another chance, at least for a while.
I stand firm that 600 texts a month isn't a lot, and even 1600 isn't too many. My grades have been okay, and texting has not been interfering with my family life. However, as an aspiring lawyer and one who values justice over mercy, I can see exactly why I lost texting. It was fair. No, it was more than fair. I got three shots and blew them all. Maybe I'll have better luck in a few months :)
Stay tuned for Texting Part Two: Where Do We Stand?
~Kendra
Monday, December 28, 2009
Cultural Honor
So, I’m reading this book called Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. It’s kind of a strange book in that it doesn’t really help you do anything exactly, it just sort of helps you understand things. Basically, it examines some successful people, and tries to figure out exactly what it is that makes them that way. There are some really interesting parts, and some parts that I sort of skimmed. But my favorite part so far was this:
Cultural honor.
Stick with me, please, because I found this to be profoundly eye-opening.
You’ve heard about family feuds and stuff, right? How for generations and generations, families will just fight with each other for reasons they might not even remember?
Well, as Malcolm Gladwell points out, one family doing this is a feud. A ton of families right along the Appalachian doing it is a pattern.
What in the world makes those people so prone to violent out breaks with each other?
Did you guess it? Cultural honor. Because the main profession of the mountain areas was livestock and stuff, people honor was very important. I mean, if you were a farmer, you had to rely on other people and get along with your neighbors, but there was never a danger of having your crop actually stolen. When your job was tending sheep or something, people very well could steal your hard work, and it wasn’t necessary to get along with the people around you really.
All you had to protect your livestock and your family was your reputation. Build up your reputation as a tough guy and no one will mess with you. Keep your honor intact.
There are other reasons why culture honor was (and is) such a big thing in those parts. It has to do with heritage.
Back when people were still coming regularly to America, a certain group of people settled in a certain spot: the Scotch-Irish immigrants settled along the eastern/southern US.
That would be “from the Pennsylvania border south and west through Virginia and West Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee, North Carolina and South Carolina, and the northern end of Alabama and Georgia.” And that’s where all this “cultural honor” stuff is big. You can steal my stuff, but you can’t insult my mama. That’s how it works here. *clears throat* I mean, there…
Okay, I’m from North Carolina. And when Mr. Malcolm Gladwell started raggin’ on my homeland, I started getting pretty hot inside.
And as I started boiling, I blinked and realized I was proving his point.
Oh.
…
I read on.
There was then an experiment described. In the early 1990s, two psychologists decided to get together a bunch of 18-21 year old guys and insult them, see how they would react. They came up with the insult they thought would resonate with them the most. “A—hole.” (I am quoting the book, sorry.)
Here was the experiment set up:
“The social sciences building at the University of Michigan has a long, narrow hallway in the basement lined with filing cabinets. The young men were called into a classroom, one by one and asked to fill out a questionnaire. Then they were told to drop off the questionnaire at the end of the hallway and return to the classroom.”
Half the guys were from the states that were high on cultural honor, half of them were not.
“As they walked down the hallway with their questionnaire, a man—a confederate of the experiments—walked past them and pulled out a drawing in one of the filing cabinets. They already narrow hallway now became even narrower. As the young men tried to squeeze by, the confederate looked up, annoyed. He slammed the filing cabinet drawer shut, jostled the young men with his shoulder, and, in a low but audible voice said the trigger word: ‘a—hole.’”
Through different tests that I go into in too much detail, the suspicions were confirmed. Confirmed A LOT. The cultural honor boys were mad. Even though they didn’t act out in violence, their handshakes were firmer than usual, saliva samples revealed that being insulted had raised their levels of testosterone and cortisol (hormones that drive aggression). The guys were also given a short story and told to supply a conclusion. The story had to do with a guy’s girlfriend being come onto by another guy. The cultural honor guys who had been insulted made it end violently, while the guys who lived in other places did not.
IS THAT INTERESTING TO ANYONE ELSE?
I’m going to be perfectly honest with you:
I never thought people reacted any differently.
Call me ignorant, but I thought this was the same everywhere. I had no idea that in other parts of the US, it wouldn’t be natural to react violently to having your honor insulted. I mean, you just don’t do that here. No one gets upset if you steal their stuff, but if you attack their honor, boy, it’s on.
It’s not just guys, it’s girls, too. I mean, I honestly had no idea that it would occur to anyone not to get wild about something like this…I think I’ve already said that :) But you get the idea.
Who knew? I had no idea that culture honor wasn’t the same everywhere. What a cool eye-opener!
Hope you guys found this at least half as interesting as I did :)
~Kendra
Cultural honor.
Stick with me, please, because I found this to be profoundly eye-opening.
You’ve heard about family feuds and stuff, right? How for generations and generations, families will just fight with each other for reasons they might not even remember?
Well, as Malcolm Gladwell points out, one family doing this is a feud. A ton of families right along the Appalachian doing it is a pattern.
What in the world makes those people so prone to violent out breaks with each other?
Did you guess it? Cultural honor. Because the main profession of the mountain areas was livestock and stuff, people honor was very important. I mean, if you were a farmer, you had to rely on other people and get along with your neighbors, but there was never a danger of having your crop actually stolen. When your job was tending sheep or something, people very well could steal your hard work, and it wasn’t necessary to get along with the people around you really.
All you had to protect your livestock and your family was your reputation. Build up your reputation as a tough guy and no one will mess with you. Keep your honor intact.
There are other reasons why culture honor was (and is) such a big thing in those parts. It has to do with heritage.
Back when people were still coming regularly to America, a certain group of people settled in a certain spot: the Scotch-Irish immigrants settled along the eastern/southern US.
That would be “from the Pennsylvania border south and west through Virginia and West Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee, North Carolina and South Carolina, and the northern end of Alabama and Georgia.” And that’s where all this “cultural honor” stuff is big. You can steal my stuff, but you can’t insult my mama. That’s how it works here. *clears throat* I mean, there…
Okay, I’m from North Carolina. And when Mr. Malcolm Gladwell started raggin’ on my homeland, I started getting pretty hot inside.
And as I started boiling, I blinked and realized I was proving his point.
Oh.
…
I read on.
There was then an experiment described. In the early 1990s, two psychologists decided to get together a bunch of 18-21 year old guys and insult them, see how they would react. They came up with the insult they thought would resonate with them the most. “A—hole.” (I am quoting the book, sorry.)
Here was the experiment set up:
“The social sciences building at the University of Michigan has a long, narrow hallway in the basement lined with filing cabinets. The young men were called into a classroom, one by one and asked to fill out a questionnaire. Then they were told to drop off the questionnaire at the end of the hallway and return to the classroom.”
Half the guys were from the states that were high on cultural honor, half of them were not.
“As they walked down the hallway with their questionnaire, a man—a confederate of the experiments—walked past them and pulled out a drawing in one of the filing cabinets. They already narrow hallway now became even narrower. As the young men tried to squeeze by, the confederate looked up, annoyed. He slammed the filing cabinet drawer shut, jostled the young men with his shoulder, and, in a low but audible voice said the trigger word: ‘a—hole.’”
Through different tests that I go into in too much detail, the suspicions were confirmed. Confirmed A LOT. The cultural honor boys were mad. Even though they didn’t act out in violence, their handshakes were firmer than usual, saliva samples revealed that being insulted had raised their levels of testosterone and cortisol (hormones that drive aggression). The guys were also given a short story and told to supply a conclusion. The story had to do with a guy’s girlfriend being come onto by another guy. The cultural honor guys who had been insulted made it end violently, while the guys who lived in other places did not.
IS THAT INTERESTING TO ANYONE ELSE?
I’m going to be perfectly honest with you:
I never thought people reacted any differently.
Call me ignorant, but I thought this was the same everywhere. I had no idea that in other parts of the US, it wouldn’t be natural to react violently to having your honor insulted. I mean, you just don’t do that here. No one gets upset if you steal their stuff, but if you attack their honor, boy, it’s on.
It’s not just guys, it’s girls, too. I mean, I honestly had no idea that it would occur to anyone not to get wild about something like this…I think I’ve already said that :) But you get the idea.
Who knew? I had no idea that culture honor wasn’t the same everywhere. What a cool eye-opener!
Hope you guys found this at least half as interesting as I did :)
~Kendra
Saturday, August 15, 2009
My Life, the Pscho Mystery Story?!
So...today was...weird to say the least. Wow. Just really weird.
The weirdness started last night. I mean, I guess. I don't remember. Which is the weirdest part! Okay, so apparently last night went just like any other night pretty much. I went to bed, and then read Maximum Ride: Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports for a really, really long time. I went to the bathroom right before turning off the light, and on my way back to my room, I heard this creepy hissing noise, so real and so close that my blood ran cold. I whirled around, hoping I wouldn't actually see anything, but in the middle of the big downstairs room, is a tall something. More blood running cold. The thing hissed again, and this time it sounded like, "Hey."
It was Lizzy.
I was pretty ticked off at her for freaking me out. I was only half conscious anyway because I'd been reading Max like a fiend trying to get as far into it as I could before I passed out asleep. My mind was working in creepy ways, going about bird kids and mutants and evil scientists and sneaky Erasers and junk like that, so having Lizzy sneaking around the house at night really didn't help the situation much.
But, I digress.
I went to sleep after a while of lying in bed, wondering why I was still awake. When I finally went to sleep, I had millions and millions of very fast, very flashy, very creepy, very intense dreams. They had to do with everything from twin brothers who fought to air vents flying off to big spiders to my friend Gabrielle evangelizing. And a **TON** of stuff that I can't clearly remember.
I woke up with a jolt, kind of warm and cozy and disoriented. Then, my stomach hurt like crap. Not like I was gonna be sick, like someone was cutting open my insides. It hurt really bad. But I must have dozed off again because I woke up when my mom came in and opened the blinds saying, "I'm so sorry, I forgot, you have soccer practice at 10 and it's five till right now." I opened my eyes and was once again greeted by the knife-in-the-gut sensation.
"My stomach hurts," I said. My mom was sympathetic, but still kind of hurrying me to get to soccer. I went to the bathroom, but my stomach still hurt really bad. I wondered if my mom had overslept or something since she and my dad hadn't gotten back until really late the night before. They'd been helping at a wedding rehearsal and hadn't gotten back until 12:34. Funny time, isn't it?
Well, my stomach was still slicing itself up even as I tried to get ready for soccer. It really hurt, and I didn't think I'd be a very good addition to the team, so I ended up calling the coach and leaving a message explaining why I didn't go to practice.
After a while, my stomach felt better, and I read some Max (finished it actually) before lunch.
The day went on pretty usual from there. Lots of reading and talking, though no computer at all, which was weird.
At 4:45 I started getting ready to go to this wedding we had to go to tonight (I just got back from it). I put on my new dress (you saw it yesterday) and all that good stuff. We went to the wedding. On the way, I started having really weird feelings about my parents getting home so late. It almost seemed like they didn't get home late, and that was just a dream. I had dreamed so much...I couldn't be sure. So, I asked.
"What time did you guys get home last night? Was it really late?"
Daddy sort of shrugged, eyes on the road. "It was a little after 8, I guess." He turned to my mom. "Wouldn't you say?" She agreed.
For the second time that day, my blood ran cold. What?? They hadn't gotten home at 12:34? But...but I had been so sure! I remember it! I remebered them--Wait, I remembered them coming home at 12:34, but I didn't remember anything else...
"Uhm, so you didn't come home at 12:34?" I asked. Daddy frowned.
"Uh, no," he said. I was getting a little weirded out.
"Oh....'kay...Well, what did we do last night?" I asked.
The whole family kind of looked at me.
"Momma and Daddy brought home those strawberry popsicle things..." Lizzy prompted. That faintly ran a bell...
"We watched about an hour of What Not to Wear," my mom reminded me.
"And that new episode of Phineas and Ferb," Daddy said.
I know I was looking at them like they were speaking Russian, but I didn't remember any of that! They had to be kidding me. Or maybe I was kidding me...but how can you kid yourself?
"You don't remember this?" Daddy asked. I stared at him and shook my head. He went on, "I was downstairs in the unfinished part of the basement, trying to fix the air conditioning? You said goodnight to me, then went into your room and closed the door?"
I frowned and nodded slowly, "Now that you mention it, I remember that."
My mom nodded. "Is it starting to come back now?"
Still, frowning, I had to answer, "Uh...no, not really."
They didn't seem nearly as alarmed about this whole thing as I was.
The wedding was beautiful, and the food was good, but I didn't get enough, so I'm still hungry, which for some reason is the best feeling to me. One of my favorite feelings is to be really tired and really hungry when I'm going to bed in the summer. I have NO IDEA why.
I also have no idea what happened last night, or why I had such insane, fast-flashing dreams, or why I don't remember anything that happened last night except strawberry popsicles and my dad fixing the air conditioning. I'm kind of scared.
Why can't I remember that random little piece of time?
Did the dreams mean anything?
Will I remember what happened tonight when I wake up?
Did my stomach pains this morning have anything to do with it all?
I know this probably sounds like some insane mystery book and not at all like real life, but that's me for you, I guess. Even though this is creepy and freaky, it's kind of...well...exciting, too. I hope this turns out to be something really awesome and not just a random brain fart or something. Hmm...
But then again, I hope it's not something serious, like brain failure...
Just keep me in your thoughts...and hopefully tonight will keep itself in my thoughts, too...
The weirdness started last night. I mean, I guess. I don't remember. Which is the weirdest part! Okay, so apparently last night went just like any other night pretty much. I went to bed, and then read Maximum Ride: Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports for a really, really long time. I went to the bathroom right before turning off the light, and on my way back to my room, I heard this creepy hissing noise, so real and so close that my blood ran cold. I whirled around, hoping I wouldn't actually see anything, but in the middle of the big downstairs room, is a tall something. More blood running cold. The thing hissed again, and this time it sounded like, "Hey."
It was Lizzy.
I was pretty ticked off at her for freaking me out. I was only half conscious anyway because I'd been reading Max like a fiend trying to get as far into it as I could before I passed out asleep. My mind was working in creepy ways, going about bird kids and mutants and evil scientists and sneaky Erasers and junk like that, so having Lizzy sneaking around the house at night really didn't help the situation much.
But, I digress.
I went to sleep after a while of lying in bed, wondering why I was still awake. When I finally went to sleep, I had millions and millions of very fast, very flashy, very creepy, very intense dreams. They had to do with everything from twin brothers who fought to air vents flying off to big spiders to my friend Gabrielle evangelizing. And a **TON** of stuff that I can't clearly remember.
I woke up with a jolt, kind of warm and cozy and disoriented. Then, my stomach hurt like crap. Not like I was gonna be sick, like someone was cutting open my insides. It hurt really bad. But I must have dozed off again because I woke up when my mom came in and opened the blinds saying, "I'm so sorry, I forgot, you have soccer practice at 10 and it's five till right now." I opened my eyes and was once again greeted by the knife-in-the-gut sensation.
"My stomach hurts," I said. My mom was sympathetic, but still kind of hurrying me to get to soccer. I went to the bathroom, but my stomach still hurt really bad. I wondered if my mom had overslept or something since she and my dad hadn't gotten back until really late the night before. They'd been helping at a wedding rehearsal and hadn't gotten back until 12:34. Funny time, isn't it?
Well, my stomach was still slicing itself up even as I tried to get ready for soccer. It really hurt, and I didn't think I'd be a very good addition to the team, so I ended up calling the coach and leaving a message explaining why I didn't go to practice.
After a while, my stomach felt better, and I read some Max (finished it actually) before lunch.
The day went on pretty usual from there. Lots of reading and talking, though no computer at all, which was weird.
At 4:45 I started getting ready to go to this wedding we had to go to tonight (I just got back from it). I put on my new dress (you saw it yesterday) and all that good stuff. We went to the wedding. On the way, I started having really weird feelings about my parents getting home so late. It almost seemed like they didn't get home late, and that was just a dream. I had dreamed so much...I couldn't be sure. So, I asked.
"What time did you guys get home last night? Was it really late?"
Daddy sort of shrugged, eyes on the road. "It was a little after 8, I guess." He turned to my mom. "Wouldn't you say?" She agreed.
For the second time that day, my blood ran cold. What?? They hadn't gotten home at 12:34? But...but I had been so sure! I remember it! I remebered them--Wait, I remembered them coming home at 12:34, but I didn't remember anything else...
"Uhm, so you didn't come home at 12:34?" I asked. Daddy frowned.
"Uh, no," he said. I was getting a little weirded out.
"Oh....'kay...Well, what did we do last night?" I asked.
The whole family kind of looked at me.
"Momma and Daddy brought home those strawberry popsicle things..." Lizzy prompted. That faintly ran a bell...
"We watched about an hour of What Not to Wear," my mom reminded me.
"And that new episode of Phineas and Ferb," Daddy said.
I know I was looking at them like they were speaking Russian, but I didn't remember any of that! They had to be kidding me. Or maybe I was kidding me...but how can you kid yourself?
"You don't remember this?" Daddy asked. I stared at him and shook my head. He went on, "I was downstairs in the unfinished part of the basement, trying to fix the air conditioning? You said goodnight to me, then went into your room and closed the door?"
I frowned and nodded slowly, "Now that you mention it, I remember that."
My mom nodded. "Is it starting to come back now?"
Still, frowning, I had to answer, "Uh...no, not really."
They didn't seem nearly as alarmed about this whole thing as I was.
The wedding was beautiful, and the food was good, but I didn't get enough, so I'm still hungry, which for some reason is the best feeling to me. One of my favorite feelings is to be really tired and really hungry when I'm going to bed in the summer. I have NO IDEA why.
I also have no idea what happened last night, or why I had such insane, fast-flashing dreams, or why I don't remember anything that happened last night except strawberry popsicles and my dad fixing the air conditioning. I'm kind of scared.
Why can't I remember that random little piece of time?
Did the dreams mean anything?
Will I remember what happened tonight when I wake up?
Did my stomach pains this morning have anything to do with it all?
I know this probably sounds like some insane mystery book and not at all like real life, but that's me for you, I guess. Even though this is creepy and freaky, it's kind of...well...exciting, too. I hope this turns out to be something really awesome and not just a random brain fart or something. Hmm...
But then again, I hope it's not something serious, like brain failure...
Just keep me in your thoughts...and hopefully tonight will keep itself in my thoughts, too...
Monday, July 6, 2009
Five Days in One
Sorry. I've been really busy with Bible school and Fourth of July stuff, and frankly, I just didn't feel like posting.
I still have nothing to say. I'm having posting block or something. Well, since I missed Thursday through Sunday, I'll just do those specialty posts:
Thursday, Name Day:
Let's do the most popular names, shall we?
Most Popular Top Ten Girls' Names:
1. Emma (means "universe" or something)
2. Emily (Nothing to say.)
3. Madison (Wisconsin?)
4. Isabelle (Love it.)
5. Abagail (Don't like that name just a whole lot. Reminds me of the 1800's. I like Abby, though.)
6. Olivia (Reminds me of an olive.)
7. Ava (Love this name.)
8. Chloe/Khloe (Kewl.)
9. Sophia (Means "wisdom" or something.)
10. Addison (Pretty much like Madison, only someone drops their "M"s.)
Most Popular Top Ten Boys' Names:
1. Jacob (And Esau ;))
2. Noah (And the ark. Seriously, can't believe this is making a comeback.)
3. Aiden (Means "fire".)
4. Jackson (Yay for surnames as first names!)
5. Jack (And Jill...)
6. Logan (My last name...)
7. Ryan (I like this name. But I think it would be a cute girl's name, too, for some reason.)
8. Matthew (Okay.)
9. Jayden (Hey, I made this up!)
10. Joshua (Generic, but I like it.)
How interesting. Hey, wait a minute! I thought I made up the name Jayden! I thought *I* invented that! -_- Apparently not. Oh well. Just goes to show I make up pretty sweet names, right? Lol ;)
My favorite girls' names out of those would be Isabelle, Ava, Khloe, and Sophia.
My favorite boys' names out of those would be Aiden (it means "fire"), Jackson, Jayden, and Joshua. I like "J" names :D
Okay, Friday, Challenge Day:
Uh. Okay, read a chapter book in a day. Good luck :P
Saturday, Carpe Noctem Day:
You could just go read Carpe Noctem, you know.
Sunday, God Day:
Oh, boy. Well, here's something. I'll tell my favorite Bible point from Bible school this week: God is with us (FEAR NOT!). And he is. All the time, everywhere. How cool is that??
Today, Monday, Word Day:
Ooh, I actually like my word from my Word of the Day calendar! It's "atrabilious", which means given to or marked by melancholy.
Pretty much it means gloomy. Cool word, right?
Well, in the words of Bugs Bunny, that's all for now, folks!
I still have nothing to say. I'm having posting block or something. Well, since I missed Thursday through Sunday, I'll just do those specialty posts:
Thursday, Name Day:
Let's do the most popular names, shall we?
Most Popular Top Ten Girls' Names:
1. Emma (means "universe" or something)
2. Emily (Nothing to say.)
3. Madison (Wisconsin?)
4. Isabelle (Love it.)
5. Abagail (Don't like that name just a whole lot. Reminds me of the 1800's. I like Abby, though.)
6. Olivia (Reminds me of an olive.)
7. Ava (Love this name.)
8. Chloe/Khloe (Kewl.)
9. Sophia (Means "wisdom" or something.)
10. Addison (Pretty much like Madison, only someone drops their "M"s.)
Most Popular Top Ten Boys' Names:
1. Jacob (And Esau ;))
2. Noah (And the ark. Seriously, can't believe this is making a comeback.)
3. Aiden (Means "fire".)
4. Jackson (Yay for surnames as first names!)
5. Jack (And Jill...)
6. Logan (My last name...)
7. Ryan (I like this name. But I think it would be a cute girl's name, too, for some reason.)
8. Matthew (Okay.)
9. Jayden (Hey, I made this up!)
10. Joshua (Generic, but I like it.)
How interesting. Hey, wait a minute! I thought I made up the name Jayden! I thought *I* invented that! -_- Apparently not. Oh well. Just goes to show I make up pretty sweet names, right? Lol ;)
My favorite girls' names out of those would be Isabelle, Ava, Khloe, and Sophia.
My favorite boys' names out of those would be Aiden (it means "fire"), Jackson, Jayden, and Joshua. I like "J" names :D
Okay, Friday, Challenge Day:
Uh. Okay, read a chapter book in a day. Good luck :P
Saturday, Carpe Noctem Day:
You could just go read Carpe Noctem, you know.
Sunday, God Day:
Oh, boy. Well, here's something. I'll tell my favorite Bible point from Bible school this week: God is with us (FEAR NOT!). And he is. All the time, everywhere. How cool is that??
Today, Monday, Word Day:
Ooh, I actually like my word from my Word of the Day calendar! It's "atrabilious", which means given to or marked by melancholy.
Pretty much it means gloomy. Cool word, right?
Well, in the words of Bugs Bunny, that's all for now, folks!
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