Tag Archives: misc

Going through my nutrition book made me realize how much I’ve learned from watching Scrubs. And they say you don’t learn from TV.


Have I really been gone that long?

I have?

You mean–No, no that can’t be right.

I haven’t (really) blogged since…DECEMBER 30TH?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

I don’t believe it, I just don’t believe it. But alas, it is true. I am so ashamed Internet. Granted, I was out of the country for a month, but still. That is a very long time away from you. I think if I had to pin point the reason it would be this really weird thing I developed… I don’t know if you have ever heard of it, but recently I went out there and got myself a social life.

I know, I know. What am I doing with one of those? Well those crazy kids from New Zealand apparently liked me enough to keep hanging around me back here in the States. So I’ve been quite busy with all of that, plus school work. My goodness- the school work I have accumulated this semester! I still can’t believe how crazy it is. I’ve got papers (worth 30% freaking percent of my grade- YIKES) and tests and quizzes and projects and more papers and presentations and many, many, many books to read. I’ve been in class for…five weeks and I’ve already read six books and written papers on them. Such is the life of an English major. I’m not really complaining though– I like the books well enough. I’ve been reading: Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, The Autobiography of My Mother by Jamaica Kincaid, Translations by Brian Friel, Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga and The Freedom Writers Diary by The Freedom Writers.

As you can see, that alone has kept me quite busy. Add to that lots of reading in text books and I basically have no free time to hang out with my new found friends (although I always manage to find time… interesting how that works). Also, for my Diversity in Education class, one of my assignments is to keep a weekly blog about our class. Difficult, I know, because I don’t have any experience in that sort of thing. Hardy-har I’m HILARIOUS. You can find the blog here, and you don’t have to be an Education major to comment on the posts- I would love your input!

I know this post is ridiculously short, but I have to study for a Nutrition exam (gross to the maxx) and go to a meeting for my French class (yes, I am still in French, no I do not have the same professor, yes I need to tell you that story some time. Remind me). At least I’m posting again, right? Yeah, let’s go with that.


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Je suis invisible.

I am invisible.

You don’t know me, and yet you see me every day. I’m the girl sitting beside you in class. You know—you crane your neck to try and see my notes because you can’t read the board from the back of the class. I’m the girl sitting next to you in the café. I notice you, but you don’t see me. Somehow you know I’m there, just like you know atoms and particles and molecules are there. They surround you, but you can’t see or feel them. You rely on them to be there, to do their job without you asking, because that is what you know. It’s comfortable.

I’m comfortable in my invisibility. It makes it easier to float around this world. Please don’t mistake my floating for lifelessness. I am very much alive. My heart pumps blood throughout my body just as your heart pumps life through your veins. But you don’t care about my blood and veins and body because you are focused. You sit there at your table, working away on your computer, never noticing me feverishly typing away on mine. You go to wipe away the excess coffee that dripped on your table and as you look up you see the barista nervously watching you from the counter. She was invisible to you until that one instant—the one meeting of eyes is all it took for her to come into your world.

But you are busy and she is busy and I am still invisible.

We lead two entirely separate lives that intertwine every day. You don’t know my likes or dislikes, or that I want nothing more than to travel. You don’t know that I want to be roaming the hills of New Zealand with the sheep. That I want to sing along with the Manchester United fans in a pub in England. Ou que je veux marcher dans le jardin de Marie Antoinettes à Paris. I bet you didn’t even know I speak French.

I would like to tell you these things. You seem like someone who enjoys traveling. Maybe you would tell me about the time you got stranded in Italy, or the time you missed your train to Greece and had to spend the night in the train station. Maybe we would find out we have been to the same places. I like when I find out people have done the same things I have done; I feel like a little piece of our souls are connected.

But the likelihood of this conversation happening is impossible, because I am still invisible. And maybe one day you will turn to copy my notes and I will tell you to invest in a pair of glasses. And you will think to yourself, “what the hell?” Maybe you will go out and actually buy a pair of glasses. Or maybe you won’t say anything at all.

But you will see me. We will make eye contact and it will be something more than the nervous glances exchanged with that barista. You will see my tired eyes and you will notice their color. You will see my faltering smile, and you will smile the same tired, faltering smile.

And we will connect, if only for a moment, and you will know me, and I will no longer be invisible.


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Because I’m Not On Enough Social Networks.

So the latest social network is Formspring. You ask me a question, about anything, and I answer it. SOUNDS LIKE FUN RIGHT?!?!?! Right. Now the only problem is, the majority of people I know (minus a handful or so) don’t venture past facebook and e-mail. So it is up to YOU, dear Internet to ask me questions, and if you so choose, they are completely anonymous. And like I said, they can be questions about anything! However, Maureen Johnson says it best:

Q. When it says, ask me anything, do you mean ANYTHING?

A. Well, sure. You can ASK me anything. I may not ANSWER, but there is no harm in ASKING.

So GO! Ask away!

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To my sister: I know it is too early. I don’t want to hear it.

Soooo my roommate was a very bad Jew and hung Christmas lights with me. Now, if you are the type of person my sister is, you may say that hanging Christmas lights this early is sacrilege. However, I am here to tell you that 1) we hung them this early because they are so pretty! and 2) we want to keep them up for the rest of the year, which goes way past Christmas. So technically, they are aren’t Christmas lights. Even more technically, they are. But let’s not get into the fine print.

Anyway, I was in a photography mood tonight, so I snapped a few pics. Here they are! Enjoy.

Lights 1

Lights 2

Lights 3

Lights 4

Lights 5 or is it 6? Can't be bothered to look.

Mmmk this is Lights 6


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Edmund Spencer


Sonnet 1

Happy ye leaves when as those lilly hands,
which hold my life in their dead doing might
shall handle you and hold in loves soft bands,
lyke captives trembling at the victors sight.
And happy lines, on which with starry light,
those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look
and reade the sorrowes of my dying spright,
written with teares in harts close bleeding book.
And happy rymes bath’d in the sacred brooke,
of Helicon whence she derived is,
when ye behold that Angels blessed looke,
my soules long lacked foode, my heavens blis.
Leaues, lines, and rymes, seeke her to please alone,
whom if ye please, I care for other none.

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One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish.


Sorry to shout, but I had to get your attention Internet! Today is national poetry day and in honor of that I have posted two videos below of my two favorite poems. One is just a reading, the other is a really cool video someone made to go along with the reading! Enjoy!

“As I Walked Out One Evening” by W.H. Auden:

“Annabelle Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe


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I’m sleeping with Darth Vader! It’s the scandal of the year.

“You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.” – John Green, Looking for Alaska

So it is that time of the year again. I tend to do something one year and love it so much I find myself doing it the next year and the next year. The only problem is that list continues to increase while my free time continues to decrease. It is that time of the year to reread Looking for Alaska. If you have never read this book before, let me begin by saying you have no idea what you are missing. This book seriously changed me and my outlook on life. I am really not exaggerating when I say I look at people, situations, anything and everything differently because of the message of this book. In fact, it touched me so much that I find myself writing differently. John Green is an amazing writer and the imagery he creates has the power to make you weep from laughter and ten words later make you weep because WOAH! you didn’t see that event coming and you are quite sad. Don’t let the fact that this book is listed under “young adult” because that is not the case. I really, really hope I teach at a school where they allow me to teach this book to my students. It is very powerful, eloquent and very beautiful.

It is also that time of the year to make my way through the Lord of the Rings movies. These movies hold a very special place in my heart because it brought together all of my cousins and siblings and for once there was no screaming or yelling or fighting of any kind. We talked endlessly about the plot, who got to be who (I’m Sam which gives me reason to randomly shout “SHAAAARE THE LOAD!”) and we even dressed up for fun. (We had cloaks. Jealous? You should be.) Now, I am a bit apprehensive to start the movies because I am currently (although very, very slowly) making my way through the books. I feel as though I need to read these before going to New Zealand, because we will be going on a LOTR tour and even though the movies were filmed there and I’ve already been to the pub in which it was partly written/discussed, I still think I should read them. They are classics for a reason.

And of course it is time to go to NYC (although, when is it not?). So listen up mother! I want to go to central park and have tea at the Plaza just like Eloise. Oh how I love Eloise.

In other news, I get my sleep mask next Friday. (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, check out the thrilling story here.) I haven’t decided if I am going to post a picture of it on here when I get it; depends on the level of embarrassment I feel at the time. I do know that I have named it Darth Vader because, well, when wearing it I feel like ol’ Darth. Plus I can now (or at least next Friday) say “I’m totally sleeping with Darth Vader.” Can you imagine! Me! Sleeping with Darth Vader! The scandal! The shock! The horror! I know, I know. It is going to be totally awesome. Also if people want to come to visit it, and I’ve already had a few friends say they wanted to, the only requirement is that they bring a sticker to decorate it with. (This reminds me of the rule JD and Turk have… that you have to bring your own roll of toilet paper if you stay with them… no? anyone? just me?)

And lastly, I will answer this question that I was asked today by me lovely sister.

“If you were a boy for one day, what would you do?”

Hmmm, a very interesting question. I think whatever I did I would do it shirtless, because it is really unfair boys don’t have to wear shirts all the time. Then I think I would go to an old barber (like the kind with the red and white swirly thing in the front) because boys can just do that. They don’t have to entrust a random person with their precious hair and expect them to cut it EXACTLY like the picture looks. I would also burp a lot, because boys don’t (usually) get nasty looks when they burp. I would go to a sporting event and actually know what is going on (I’m assuming if there is magic for me to become a boy, there is magic for me to become a boy with a decent knowledge of sports). Oh then I would go smell a bunch of cologne because it all (mostly) smells so so good. And that would be my (somewhat boring) day as a boy.

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