My finals week is easier than most, giving that education is one of the easier majors. While I appreciate the slack, sometimes I also feel as though I'm getting an undeserved break from the more difficult aspects of college life. Either way, today I had a final that is no part of my grade, but that I had to arrive for anyways. She allowed the students to take it with either section, so I could take it 7:30 this morning or at 3 in the afternoon on Friday, and since I plan on being home Thursday, I opted for the 7:30 option.
All week, I've been preparing for an expo thing in the Union Ballrooms. In our last Reading class on Monday, a graduate student asked for volunteers, and since my finals week is already easier than most, I offered to be there from 8:30 to 1, the complete duration of the expo. I figured I could head over at the conclusion of the final, and maybe even have time to get a mocha or something, since an ungraded final exam couldn't take that long.
Tuesday evening I begin to feel the beginnings of a sickness, mainly by frequent sneezing, constant scratchiness in my throat, and a runny nose. It's the kind of sickness where the entire back of your throat area feels as though it's got millions of tiny scratches, and every time you swallow you get a taste in the back of your mouth that say "By the way, don't forget that you have some sort of virus." Not that you could forget, with the constant sniffling and sneezing. So I decided to go to bed early because of the sickness and the fact that I'd be up super early. I took some NyQuil for the illness and was asleep by 11.
The next morning, I'm up at 6:20, and out of my dorm in less than an hour. I'm always paranoid on my way to things that are scheduled once. I'm always afraid I have the times wrong. The entire walk to the final, I kept ignoring the scenario where I showed up and nobody else was there, leaving me alone with a good wasted few hours. I told myself that it was a ridiculous fear, and even if I was wrong, well, it happens and nobody would care. However, I showed up at 7:30, along with the teacher and a good number of students. I finished the short, multiple-choice no-grade test in fifteen minutes, and was on my way to Einstein Bros. for a mocha.
Having gotten my mocha and still having time, I went to sit outside the ballrooms with my mocha, a good twenty minutes early. The expo was supposedly starting around 8, but everything was empty. Maybe it wouldn't start until 8:30, the time I was supposed to arrive. I laughed at the sight of myself in the reflection. I was dressed in "business casual"--dress pants, a blouse, and a vest. However, I looked much less professional with my bookbag next to me, and how I was sitting: knees together, ankles apart, and toes pointed inwards. Some grown-up I am.
Anyways, I kept waiting for someone to arrive. Some maintenance workers said they were there for some training, which I knew nothing about. I walked to the post office to kill time, figuring that maybe she wouldn't be there until 8:30. I had a slip for a package that wouldn't fit in my tiny box, but I couldn't pick it up until 8:30. I came back. Other people in dress clothes walked by, also there for the training, and looking confused when I asked about an expo. I sighed and walked back to my bench to wait.
"Hi, um, what event are you here for?" I ended my sentence with a preposition. Leah said that doesn't matter in speech, though.
"The training, are you here for that?" The woman smiled. That made me less nervous. I'm always nervous about talking to strangers, especially when I'm already on edge about not knowing what is going on with this event.
"No, I'm here for some expo. The training is in the last door, that one down there, though." I pointed, and wandered away.
I began to get frustrated. What was happening? Had the event been canceled? I had been planning on this for a good week, knowing when to arrive, what to wear, and now nobody was there; was I going crazy? This sort of thought process continued until 8:40, when I knew for sure I must have gotten something wrong. I went and picked up my package, a box of candy and snacks from Aunt Jane. I smiled. I walked back to the ballrooms, but nothing had changed.
I saw a computer lab, but the sign said it wasn't open until noon. However, other students were entering and using the computers. I decided that I needed to check my email. I opened the email from the grad student, "RE:RE:RE:Education Expo" and scrolled to the first email she had sent, about the expo. 8am-1am, the email said. I stared, perplexed. It didn't say Wednesday, just April 28th. I scrolled the mouse over the time to see the date, just to confirm.
April 29th.
I paused. Checked both dates a few more times. I sent an apology to the student, explaining my absence. Then I stood up, took my bookbag, and began walking back to my dorm, frustrated. I was tired, sick, I had let down that grad student, and waited outside of the Union Ballrooms for a good half hour, like an idiot. Walking back, I wonder if anyone is awake. Checking my phone and wishing I could talk to someone, I see a text message. "Hugs! You can do it!" from Jess. Jess, thank you, I needed encouragement at that moment, even in the form of digital text hugs.
Now, back in my dorm, I see the situation more laughably. I was worried about the exam being canceled and was so certain that the expo was Wednesday, when in reality the exam was correct and I was completely wrong about the expo. I roll my eyes and smile at myself, and remember, as I've said before, what my grandfather tells me. "You need to be able to laugh at yourself." I'm kind of an idiot, and it's pretty funny that I spent half an hour waiting for something of which I was so certain, when in actuality I was completely and totally wrong. At least I got the exam done. At least I got to spend time walking around in the early morning, my favorite time of day. At least I checked my mail. At least I had another opportunity to learn to laugh at myself and not to be too hard on myself over trivial mistakes.
What a morning.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Reading.
.Firstly, I'm slightly wary of attempting this blog because I am writing with a semi-specific purpose, and I know that if I touch on something as important to me as reading, I'll want to say every thought and feeling I have on the matter, which would make a quite extensive entry. However, I'll do my best to keep it of a normal length, and in doing so I suspect I will be sorely disappointed at the completion of this blog, realizing I said what I intended while leaving out so much more.
I love reading. When I was a child, I always loved reading. Most of my friends feel the same way, as we have entered into countless discussions about the hours we spent as children pouring over books when other kids were staring at Gameboys or playing sports on some community team. Perhaps this is why I do well on grammar portions of standardized tests; after seeing so many sentences and words for so long, I usually have a feel of which option looks the most correct.
When I wasn't running around outside with Dustin as a child, I was reading. As young as second grade, I remember loving books. In first grade, the teacher gave me The Velveteen Rabbit, one of her childhood favorites. In third grade, the teacher let me choose any book from the shelf to keep because I had so frequently borrowed books (I chose Roald Dahl's Matilda, still a favorite. To this day, I love children's books and juvenile fiction and the like.) I spent the summer after fifth grade riding my bike to the library weekly and checking out ten books from Applegate's Animorphs series. I'd finish them, then next week ride down to check out the next ten. I was one of the kids who finished the fourth Harry Potter book in around twenty four hours, picking it up early in the morning and refusing to rest. I'd spend free time, car rides, before school, sometimes during lunch, reading. My best friend in middle school was the same way, so we made quite a pair.
Somewhere in the midst of high school, life became too busy to read regularly like I used to back in the days of middle school, and I realized I'd spend long amounts of time not doing any pleasure reading, since I was more focused on high school, homework, extracurricular activities, and my social life.
College is also busy, but sometimes I still manage. Last semester I bought the first two books of the Pretties, Uglies, Specials, Extras series. It's another take on a futuristic Utopian society, one of my favorite types of books, like The Giver, Anthem, or Brave New World. I have yet to read 1984, but I have recently purchased it and will be reading it in the next two weeks. Anyways, I spent the next 36 hours completing the first two books of the series, and immediately had to get the next two, completing the series in less than three days. I forget what schoolwork and sleep I sacrificed to accomplish this, but I don't think my grades were as good that week. When I start reading, the book consumes my life. I'll go get food, but read while I eat (a habit I assume I picked up from my father, who, like me, loves to read a great book while eating a meal alone.) I'll read during lecture, I'll read during my free time. I'll put whatever else in life--sleep, school, social life, cleaning, etc.--on hold for the sake of the story.
I guess the reason this is all on my mind is because yesterday I read Confessions of a Shopaholic, and have just completed My Sister's Keeper. It was an amazing book. I could have blogs and blogs of commentaries on my opinions of the books I've read, the messages they convey, the depth they reveal that movies never can, and so many other opinions, feelings, and thoughts on the matter. Thanks to IB, I could even write you literary essays about hte author's use of diction or narrators or some other feature. But that is for those other blogs, and the essays I will never again have to write. This blog is to tell you that in today alone I completed this book. I sometimes wonder at my habit of reading books so quickly, without pause. It's almost exhausting, to live through so much time of other people's lives in what is just hours of my own life. (Unless I am reading One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, which does take place in one day and therefore works perfectly in this scenario.) However, today I lived lifetimes of other characters. How much of the novel have I actually retained? What will actually stay with me? Sure, I got the big picture, the message, and some of the finer details, but are books more meaningful if you take time? Do you understand more if you go slowly, stopping to meditate on what you read as you take a break from the novel? Are you supposed to go through so much in so little time? What exactly does the author intend for you to do?
Maybe it doesn't even matter. Maybe it's just the process of reading, of absorbing, and of living that novel. After all, a thousand people can read the same novel and draw different conclusions from it; maybe I see the book slightly differently just because that's how books are seen, and the rest is less relevant.
Whatever the answer, I probably will never know, because I doubt I will ever be able to take my time going through a novel. I will become so engrossed in the book that I won't notice that it's two in the morning. I will be so involved in the story that I'll stop noticing the world passing around me, and I'll keep reading until I reach the last page, the final word, at which point I will stop and let time re-settle and I'll remember where I am, who I am, and when it really is. And I'll look for another book, another life into which I can fully throw myself.
I guess all I am really trying to say is that I love reading.
I love reading. When I was a child, I always loved reading. Most of my friends feel the same way, as we have entered into countless discussions about the hours we spent as children pouring over books when other kids were staring at Gameboys or playing sports on some community team. Perhaps this is why I do well on grammar portions of standardized tests; after seeing so many sentences and words for so long, I usually have a feel of which option looks the most correct.
When I wasn't running around outside with Dustin as a child, I was reading. As young as second grade, I remember loving books. In first grade, the teacher gave me The Velveteen Rabbit, one of her childhood favorites. In third grade, the teacher let me choose any book from the shelf to keep because I had so frequently borrowed books (I chose Roald Dahl's Matilda, still a favorite. To this day, I love children's books and juvenile fiction and the like.) I spent the summer after fifth grade riding my bike to the library weekly and checking out ten books from Applegate's Animorphs series. I'd finish them, then next week ride down to check out the next ten. I was one of the kids who finished the fourth Harry Potter book in around twenty four hours, picking it up early in the morning and refusing to rest. I'd spend free time, car rides, before school, sometimes during lunch, reading. My best friend in middle school was the same way, so we made quite a pair.
Somewhere in the midst of high school, life became too busy to read regularly like I used to back in the days of middle school, and I realized I'd spend long amounts of time not doing any pleasure reading, since I was more focused on high school, homework, extracurricular activities, and my social life.
College is also busy, but sometimes I still manage. Last semester I bought the first two books of the Pretties, Uglies, Specials, Extras series. It's another take on a futuristic Utopian society, one of my favorite types of books, like The Giver, Anthem, or Brave New World. I have yet to read 1984, but I have recently purchased it and will be reading it in the next two weeks. Anyways, I spent the next 36 hours completing the first two books of the series, and immediately had to get the next two, completing the series in less than three days. I forget what schoolwork and sleep I sacrificed to accomplish this, but I don't think my grades were as good that week. When I start reading, the book consumes my life. I'll go get food, but read while I eat (a habit I assume I picked up from my father, who, like me, loves to read a great book while eating a meal alone.) I'll read during lecture, I'll read during my free time. I'll put whatever else in life--sleep, school, social life, cleaning, etc.--on hold for the sake of the story.
I guess the reason this is all on my mind is because yesterday I read Confessions of a Shopaholic, and have just completed My Sister's Keeper. It was an amazing book. I could have blogs and blogs of commentaries on my opinions of the books I've read, the messages they convey, the depth they reveal that movies never can, and so many other opinions, feelings, and thoughts on the matter. Thanks to IB, I could even write you literary essays about hte author's use of diction or narrators or some other feature. But that is for those other blogs, and the essays I will never again have to write. This blog is to tell you that in today alone I completed this book. I sometimes wonder at my habit of reading books so quickly, without pause. It's almost exhausting, to live through so much time of other people's lives in what is just hours of my own life. (Unless I am reading One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, which does take place in one day and therefore works perfectly in this scenario.) However, today I lived lifetimes of other characters. How much of the novel have I actually retained? What will actually stay with me? Sure, I got the big picture, the message, and some of the finer details, but are books more meaningful if you take time? Do you understand more if you go slowly, stopping to meditate on what you read as you take a break from the novel? Are you supposed to go through so much in so little time? What exactly does the author intend for you to do?
Maybe it doesn't even matter. Maybe it's just the process of reading, of absorbing, and of living that novel. After all, a thousand people can read the same novel and draw different conclusions from it; maybe I see the book slightly differently just because that's how books are seen, and the rest is less relevant.
Whatever the answer, I probably will never know, because I doubt I will ever be able to take my time going through a novel. I will become so engrossed in the book that I won't notice that it's two in the morning. I will be so involved in the story that I'll stop noticing the world passing around me, and I'll keep reading until I reach the last page, the final word, at which point I will stop and let time re-settle and I'll remember where I am, who I am, and when it really is. And I'll look for another book, another life into which I can fully throw myself.
I guess all I am really trying to say is that I love reading.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
It's All a-Changin'.
So, I know it's been a long time. While in class, I had been figuring on writing a blog with some sort of checklist explaining the different assignments on which I've been working and what I have left, just to sort of explain where I've been and what I've been doing besides perfecting Something Mathematical. By the way, the completed result, with subtitles, is now up at andreagill.com/math. I think it turned out quite nicely, and that Leandrea will be the next big thing. Also, Leah, the name is subject to change if you wish. Or we can add the H in there somewhere so both our names are in there.. Like Leandreah. That has your name like 1.75 times, though split up and such...
Anyways, the point was that I was going to write that blog, but my plans changed, just as my daily agenda today changed. That happens alot, for the record, plans changing. It took me years to learn to be flexible enough to handle plans being altered last minute, and even now I still struggle at times.
So today I had finished my last class of the semester, which I spent writing my last paper of the semester for another class while people presented their projects. After it finished, I decided to get Quiznos, both in celebration and in an attempt to use up the Flexbucks that will dissapear in less than two weeks. I have $50 left that need to be spent. As I was walking, I was listening to my iPod and thinking, something regular for me, and wondering why there were tents in front of the Union, while customarily avoiding walking into people without making eye contact, a walking style that I think has become habit for most people, unfortunately. As I looked at the tent, I subconciously moved to the left to avoid an oncoming fellow pedestrian. This pedestrian intentionlly moved to her right. I looked up to prevent the collision, and realized that this pedestrian was none other than Leah Wells!
What started as a conversation about the choir concert that evening somehow changed into a theological discussion about the fluidity of religion, the interpretations of the Bible, judging, psychology, the fact that religion, society, and people are always changing and growing, the movie Revolutionary Road, which we'd seen recently, and any other things that came to mind until it had been half an hour and the relentless sun was burning the tops of our feet such that it became necessary to continue on our ways.
I just thought it was wonderful that my day involved me going a different way for lunch, and Leah coming from a different way for lunch, and the consequence was a conversation that was thoughtful, interesting, and even encouraging, despite some of the less encouraging subjects on which we touched. I appreciate the fact that my friends are all people that are open to conversations deeper than day to day topics, or even topics only about ourselves and our current lives, if that makes sense. I really enjoy the variety of topics we talk about regularly. I suppose all people in all friend groups do, but I still am thankful that I, too, have those sorts of people in my life, not just Leah, but all of my friends--Daniel, Jess, Jeff, Judy, Mary, Dustin, and others.
I'm just glad that random events can change my day for the better so easily. And I'm thankful for the people in my life. Things just seem to happen at the right times, and sometimes I hear the things that I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear them. Maybe it's all not so much random chance as I believe.
And I'm glad that everything and everyone, from things as small as daily agendas to things as large as religious interpretation, is always growing and changing.
Anyways, the point was that I was going to write that blog, but my plans changed, just as my daily agenda today changed. That happens alot, for the record, plans changing. It took me years to learn to be flexible enough to handle plans being altered last minute, and even now I still struggle at times.
So today I had finished my last class of the semester, which I spent writing my last paper of the semester for another class while people presented their projects. After it finished, I decided to get Quiznos, both in celebration and in an attempt to use up the Flexbucks that will dissapear in less than two weeks. I have $50 left that need to be spent. As I was walking, I was listening to my iPod and thinking, something regular for me, and wondering why there were tents in front of the Union, while customarily avoiding walking into people without making eye contact, a walking style that I think has become habit for most people, unfortunately. As I looked at the tent, I subconciously moved to the left to avoid an oncoming fellow pedestrian. This pedestrian intentionlly moved to her right. I looked up to prevent the collision, and realized that this pedestrian was none other than Leah Wells!
What started as a conversation about the choir concert that evening somehow changed into a theological discussion about the fluidity of religion, the interpretations of the Bible, judging, psychology, the fact that religion, society, and people are always changing and growing, the movie Revolutionary Road, which we'd seen recently, and any other things that came to mind until it had been half an hour and the relentless sun was burning the tops of our feet such that it became necessary to continue on our ways.
I just thought it was wonderful that my day involved me going a different way for lunch, and Leah coming from a different way for lunch, and the consequence was a conversation that was thoughtful, interesting, and even encouraging, despite some of the less encouraging subjects on which we touched. I appreciate the fact that my friends are all people that are open to conversations deeper than day to day topics, or even topics only about ourselves and our current lives, if that makes sense. I really enjoy the variety of topics we talk about regularly. I suppose all people in all friend groups do, but I still am thankful that I, too, have those sorts of people in my life, not just Leah, but all of my friends--Daniel, Jess, Jeff, Judy, Mary, Dustin, and others.
I'm just glad that random events can change my day for the better so easily. And I'm thankful for the people in my life. Things just seem to happen at the right times, and sometimes I hear the things that I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear them. Maybe it's all not so much random chance as I believe.
And I'm glad that everything and everyone, from things as small as daily agendas to things as large as religious interpretation, is always growing and changing.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Cross Multiplication Continued.
My world has been shaken, the mathematical core inside of me has been drastically affected.
The book we use for History of Mathematics used cross-multiplication.
I feel so lost.
The book we use for History of Mathematics used cross-multiplication.
I feel so lost.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Math songs.
Short post, more to come at a later time and date.
Someone thought it would be a good idea to make the math kids be creative. I had to make a song, book, or webquest. With my musical background, I chose song.
Click Here to view the rough draft of my song. Then comment. Lyrics are below, since I know it's hard to understand. It still needs some work, I know.
Verse 1:
An angle is a figure formed by two rays that share an endpoint.
The three most common types of angles are acute, obtuse, and right.
The directions the two rays travel relative to each other,
Affect an angle’s size and help determine an angle’s measure.
Usually we measure angles in units expressed degrees
but sometimes we use something else, radians are what we mean
a straight angle would be expressed as 180 degrees, it makes a line
but the equivalent in radians is expressed pi
Chorus:
The followings a list of words
That you should sing so you can learn
the words you need to know to study for geometry,
Angle, right, acute, obtuse, degree, supplementary,
Congruent, radian, straight, complementary,
Verse Two:
Congruent angles are angles with the exact same measurement
And two lines would intersect so angles formed were congruent
The angles would have measurements both equal to 90 degrees
And therefore also would be called right angles, you see
And if the measurement was between right and straight, it'd be obtuse
And if it was between zero and right it would be acute
And if two angles both together added up were 90
The angles relationship would be named complementary
And if again the angles added to be straight, or 180
The relationship of the two would then be supplementary
Chorus:
I hope you now have learned the words
To sing in order that you learn
The vocab you should know for angles in geometry
It's angle, right, acute, obtuse, degree, supplementary,
Congruent, radian, straight, complementary,
Oh, angle, right, acute, obtuse, degree, supplementary,
Congruent, radian, straight, complementary
Someone thought it would be a good idea to make the math kids be creative. I had to make a song, book, or webquest. With my musical background, I chose song.
Click Here to view the rough draft of my song. Then comment. Lyrics are below, since I know it's hard to understand. It still needs some work, I know.
Verse 1:
An angle is a figure formed by two rays that share an endpoint.
The three most common types of angles are acute, obtuse, and right.
The directions the two rays travel relative to each other,
Affect an angle’s size and help determine an angle’s measure.
Usually we measure angles in units expressed degrees
but sometimes we use something else, radians are what we mean
a straight angle would be expressed as 180 degrees, it makes a line
but the equivalent in radians is expressed pi
Chorus:
The followings a list of words
That you should sing so you can learn
the words you need to know to study for geometry,
Angle, right, acute, obtuse, degree, supplementary,
Congruent, radian, straight, complementary,
Verse Two:
Congruent angles are angles with the exact same measurement
And two lines would intersect so angles formed were congruent
The angles would have measurements both equal to 90 degrees
And therefore also would be called right angles, you see
And if the measurement was between right and straight, it'd be obtuse
And if it was between zero and right it would be acute
And if two angles both together added up were 90
The angles relationship would be named complementary
And if again the angles added to be straight, or 180
The relationship of the two would then be supplementary
Chorus:
I hope you now have learned the words
To sing in order that you learn
The vocab you should know for angles in geometry
It's angle, right, acute, obtuse, degree, supplementary,
Congruent, radian, straight, complementary,
Oh, angle, right, acute, obtuse, degree, supplementary,
Congruent, radian, straight, complementary
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Cross Multiplication.
Many of you, somewhere in middle school or high school learned how to cross multiply. From what I can gather, cross multiply is a way of solving when two fractions are equal, and you draw this X and the numbers move around magically. I was never taught to cross multiply.
I was, however, taught that if you have two fractions equal to each other, you should multiply both sides by both denominators, because the denominator will divide with the numerator you have just multiplied in, (preposition end, I know) and leave you with the same result as the cross multiplied answer, only with more mathematical relevance and a greater understanding of the functions of multiplication, division, and fractions.
Mr. Ebbert taught us never to say cross multiply, and now I know why. Because it's a cheap shortcut that cheats students out of mathematical understanding. It's a way for teachers to give students a formula in a few minutes rather than take 15 minutes to actually show them mathematics that they can always remember, even when they can't quite recall how to cross-multiply. If you teach students mathematics based on the fundamentals of math, rather than a bunch of odd rules and shortcuts, they won't forget. What's more is they'll be more able to synthesize the information when presented a new problem.
Mr. Ebbert also taught us to never say "plug in" the number. It does sound ridiculous. We substitute in numbers. I've always said that. Mr. Ebbert taught alot more about math, too, but my blogs are too long these are the two relevant topics of the day.
I'm now at college, a mathematics education major. Frequently I hear people saying they are plugging in numbers, and my mathematical soul cringes a little. I feel that they are wronging the mathematics of the proper terminoogy it deserves. However, knowing that I'm probably a very small minority that ever even was told not to say "plug in," I know that it's not of great importance.
A bigger deal is that today in class, a student was giving her presentation to our group of three. It's part of microteaching. She set up the proportions, then asked for one of us to come up and cross multiply the fractions on the bored. I stared, perplexed, knowing full well how to solve the proportion and having no idea how to follow her directions. I could very easily solve for x, but I had no clue how to perform or even properly show my work for cross multiplication, if such a thing existed. Luckily, she proceeded to demonstrate for the class, where I quickly realized what to do for further reference.
Thank you, high school, where I learned real mathematics, wihtout stupid rules and meaningless shortcuts. I learned how to actually solve for a number, not to just perform some weird pattern.
And yet, for some reason I still find myself in classrooms with no idea of how to follow the stupid directions.
I was, however, taught that if you have two fractions equal to each other, you should multiply both sides by both denominators, because the denominator will divide with the numerator you have just multiplied in, (preposition end, I know) and leave you with the same result as the cross multiplied answer, only with more mathematical relevance and a greater understanding of the functions of multiplication, division, and fractions.
Mr. Ebbert taught us never to say cross multiply, and now I know why. Because it's a cheap shortcut that cheats students out of mathematical understanding. It's a way for teachers to give students a formula in a few minutes rather than take 15 minutes to actually show them mathematics that they can always remember, even when they can't quite recall how to cross-multiply. If you teach students mathematics based on the fundamentals of math, rather than a bunch of odd rules and shortcuts, they won't forget. What's more is they'll be more able to synthesize the information when presented a new problem.
Mr. Ebbert also taught us to never say "plug in" the number. It does sound ridiculous. We substitute in numbers. I've always said that. Mr. Ebbert taught alot more about math, too, but my blogs are too long these are the two relevant topics of the day.
I'm now at college, a mathematics education major. Frequently I hear people saying they are plugging in numbers, and my mathematical soul cringes a little. I feel that they are wronging the mathematics of the proper terminoogy it deserves. However, knowing that I'm probably a very small minority that ever even was told not to say "plug in," I know that it's not of great importance.
A bigger deal is that today in class, a student was giving her presentation to our group of three. It's part of microteaching. She set up the proportions, then asked for one of us to come up and cross multiply the fractions on the bored. I stared, perplexed, knowing full well how to solve the proportion and having no idea how to follow her directions. I could very easily solve for x, but I had no clue how to perform or even properly show my work for cross multiplication, if such a thing existed. Luckily, she proceeded to demonstrate for the class, where I quickly realized what to do for further reference.
Thank you, high school, where I learned real mathematics, wihtout stupid rules and meaningless shortcuts. I learned how to actually solve for a number, not to just perform some weird pattern.
And yet, for some reason I still find myself in classrooms with no idea of how to follow the stupid directions.
Donations.
Not donations of money. Donations of blood. Today I donated blood.
I like to donate blood, oddly enough. Maybe I like feeling like I'm doing my part. Maybe I like the free extra large t-shirts or blankets or coupons they give me when I'm done. Maybe I like the bottle of orange pineapple juice they give me so I won't pass out. Maybe I like needles. I think it's a combination of the orange pineapple juice and the feeling that I'm accomplishing something.
I used to always have low iron. They prick your finger and drop your blood in this liquid, and if it sinks, you're fine. If not, they centrifuge some blood, and take the exact count. Usually I fail the centrifuge. However, today it fell down. And I passed all the other tests that they ask, too, though those usually aren't a problem.
The first time I tried to donate blood, I was 17 and my iron was too low. The second time, I was 17 and my iron was fine. However, the donation process took much longer than I expected. I had signed up at the beginning of second period and had plans for lunch, which was after second. We were on block scheduling, so second period lasted an hour and fifty minutes. However, I was intent on getting Moe's with Jeff, so when they sent me from the bloodmobile to the classroom nearby to eat a cookie, drink juice, and rest, I asked if I could leave. There was no adult supervision, just two students, one of whom said, "Well, someone else thought they could leave and she's unconscious in the other room right now..." I left, eating my cookie as I walked across our extensive campus to find Jeff at a rather hurried pace as the bell had just rang. I caught up with him, and we began to walk towards the parking lot. Something was wrong, though. We reached the main office, and I was feeling faint. My head was light, there was a buzzing in my ears, and light was dimming. I sat down and put my head between my knees, knowing that I should have rested. I waited a few seconds, intent on at least just getting to the car. Thirty yards later, I was sitting again. However, the car was in site now. Jeff was concerned, but I refused to stop. We made it about half the remaining distance, and I stopped again. I decided to make it the rest of the way, and stood up. Jeff supported me, helping me make the final steps.
Now, this is where things got interesting. I should have stopped, but the car was 20 feet away, so I kept going. However, everything in the world changed. Usually the world looks like this:
However, colors began to get more enhanced, and things got a little trippy, or at least as trippy as anything I've ever experienced, more like this:
It was crazy, I remember thinking as Jeff sat me in the passenger's seat and prepared to drive my car out to lunch. I leaned the seat back, then sat up and looked in the mirror. My face was white and my lips were gray and colorless. I looked... kind of like i'd fallen in a bowl of powder or something.
Maybe I donate because I want to see the crazy colors of the world again, all trippy and enhanced. I don't know. Probably not, because I also associate that with the odd helplessness that I couldn't make it to the car, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make my body remain conscious enough to complete those few steps. It was an odd realization, that I couldn't overcome a little faintness after donating blood.
Listen to medical person's advice, they're not idiots. The people that think their advice doesn't matter are the idiots. They're the ones that end up passing out on the way to a car, or the ones that realize the hard way that the medicines prescribed actually work.
And lastly, some of you may have wondered why I didn't just leave late for lunch. The answer is because then we wouldn't have time to eat at Moes. And Moes was worth it.
I like to donate blood, oddly enough. Maybe I like feeling like I'm doing my part. Maybe I like the free extra large t-shirts or blankets or coupons they give me when I'm done. Maybe I like the bottle of orange pineapple juice they give me so I won't pass out. Maybe I like needles. I think it's a combination of the orange pineapple juice and the feeling that I'm accomplishing something.
I used to always have low iron. They prick your finger and drop your blood in this liquid, and if it sinks, you're fine. If not, they centrifuge some blood, and take the exact count. Usually I fail the centrifuge. However, today it fell down. And I passed all the other tests that they ask, too, though those usually aren't a problem.
The first time I tried to donate blood, I was 17 and my iron was too low. The second time, I was 17 and my iron was fine. However, the donation process took much longer than I expected. I had signed up at the beginning of second period and had plans for lunch, which was after second. We were on block scheduling, so second period lasted an hour and fifty minutes. However, I was intent on getting Moe's with Jeff, so when they sent me from the bloodmobile to the classroom nearby to eat a cookie, drink juice, and rest, I asked if I could leave. There was no adult supervision, just two students, one of whom said, "Well, someone else thought they could leave and she's unconscious in the other room right now..." I left, eating my cookie as I walked across our extensive campus to find Jeff at a rather hurried pace as the bell had just rang. I caught up with him, and we began to walk towards the parking lot. Something was wrong, though. We reached the main office, and I was feeling faint. My head was light, there was a buzzing in my ears, and light was dimming. I sat down and put my head between my knees, knowing that I should have rested. I waited a few seconds, intent on at least just getting to the car. Thirty yards later, I was sitting again. However, the car was in site now. Jeff was concerned, but I refused to stop. We made it about half the remaining distance, and I stopped again. I decided to make it the rest of the way, and stood up. Jeff supported me, helping me make the final steps.
Now, this is where things got interesting. I should have stopped, but the car was 20 feet away, so I kept going. However, everything in the world changed. Usually the world looks like this:
However, colors began to get more enhanced, and things got a little trippy, or at least as trippy as anything I've ever experienced, more like this:
It was crazy, I remember thinking as Jeff sat me in the passenger's seat and prepared to drive my car out to lunch. I leaned the seat back, then sat up and looked in the mirror. My face was white and my lips were gray and colorless. I looked... kind of like i'd fallen in a bowl of powder or something.
Maybe I donate because I want to see the crazy colors of the world again, all trippy and enhanced. I don't know. Probably not, because I also associate that with the odd helplessness that I couldn't make it to the car, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make my body remain conscious enough to complete those few steps. It was an odd realization, that I couldn't overcome a little faintness after donating blood.
Listen to medical person's advice, they're not idiots. The people that think their advice doesn't matter are the idiots. They're the ones that end up passing out on the way to a car, or the ones that realize the hard way that the medicines prescribed actually work.
And lastly, some of you may have wondered why I didn't just leave late for lunch. The answer is because then we wouldn't have time to eat at Moes. And Moes was worth it.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Themeless.
I'm Andrea Gill. I think this is one of the first time I've typed my last name, due to my irrational idea that if I never mention anything in the actual text of my blog no personal information will be given. However, my blogspot name... argill... Also the link to my Facebook and Myspace.. I never noticed those were both fake compound words.
The semester is ending, the summer is rapidly approaching, and the pile of unfinished schoolwork is looking more and more impossible. However, we are all doing our best to take it one step at a time and not lose our minds. Still, the worst for me is the observing. Five hours sitting in the back of a classroom with no other option but staring intently at the teacher whether or not she's actually lecturing causes me frustration to no end, especially when I realize that I could spend that time working on the final project for geometry.
The purpose of today is an update on life. I've been too busy to really have any inspiration for topics, and I have a webcam, so I've been video chatting recently, which is something new. Also, I own the domain andreagill.com. Another reason it doesn't matter if I say my last name. Now, the story behind this is that David owns his domain name, and Daniel was thinking of buying his. David said I probably should, too, and I remembered that I bought it last year in one of my classes when the teacher suggested we should. However, at the time I didn't know how to upload content or even make content. I looked up the information and found that I still owned another year on the domain name. I didn't realize until now that Web Design would teach me the elements necessary to actually use the FTP thing and upload content to the site. However, I don't have a program and right now an relying on my HTML and CSS skills to edit templates. I also know some JavaScript and even PERL now, though I expect to never use them again. (If you want to see that work, go to myweb.fsu.edu/arg07f/cgs3066/a4, click on survey and see the actual assignment. I only added a few questions to the pre-made survey and pre-made CGI file. I'll get your answers on my computer, so say awesome things in the comment box.) And with the schoolwork to do, my web design has reached a standstill. Over the summer I expect many changes. Keep checking, and feel free to offer any comment on the website or for what purpose it should be used. Or if you want to design it for me because you are that bored.
Yesterday, there were many tornado warnings. The school kept texting us alerts and all clears. My favorite, the last all clear that warned of flooding, followed by "Turn around don't drown." Text creating people, I want an explanation. Is texting your one creative outlet, as blogging is mine? The one place where you can say crazy things? And not have the entire class tell you to slow down because your explanation of how you find the radius is so rushed that you can't properly pronounce all of your words? I don't realize I'm talking that fast, I just get so caught up on a thought that I have to get it out before I can forget it. Maybe one day I'll learn to control the speed of my speech and hold on to my words better. Until then, frequent blog posts, because text is one of the few places where I don't lose words and can express all the thoughts that I have in my mind without getting tongue-tied.
Today had no theme. Maybe the next post will. Sorry if you read this post on nothing.
The semester is ending, the summer is rapidly approaching, and the pile of unfinished schoolwork is looking more and more impossible. However, we are all doing our best to take it one step at a time and not lose our minds. Still, the worst for me is the observing. Five hours sitting in the back of a classroom with no other option but staring intently at the teacher whether or not she's actually lecturing causes me frustration to no end, especially when I realize that I could spend that time working on the final project for geometry.
The purpose of today is an update on life. I've been too busy to really have any inspiration for topics, and I have a webcam, so I've been video chatting recently, which is something new. Also, I own the domain andreagill.com. Another reason it doesn't matter if I say my last name. Now, the story behind this is that David owns his domain name, and Daniel was thinking of buying his. David said I probably should, too, and I remembered that I bought it last year in one of my classes when the teacher suggested we should. However, at the time I didn't know how to upload content or even make content. I looked up the information and found that I still owned another year on the domain name. I didn't realize until now that Web Design would teach me the elements necessary to actually use the FTP thing and upload content to the site. However, I don't have a program and right now an relying on my HTML and CSS skills to edit templates. I also know some JavaScript and even PERL now, though I expect to never use them again. (If you want to see that work, go to myweb.fsu.edu/arg07f/cgs3066/a4, click on survey and see the actual assignment. I only added a few questions to the pre-made survey and pre-made CGI file. I'll get your answers on my computer, so say awesome things in the comment box.) And with the schoolwork to do, my web design has reached a standstill. Over the summer I expect many changes. Keep checking, and feel free to offer any comment on the website or for what purpose it should be used. Or if you want to design it for me because you are that bored.
Yesterday, there were many tornado warnings. The school kept texting us alerts and all clears. My favorite, the last all clear that warned of flooding, followed by "Turn around don't drown." Text creating people, I want an explanation. Is texting your one creative outlet, as blogging is mine? The one place where you can say crazy things? And not have the entire class tell you to slow down because your explanation of how you find the radius is so rushed that you can't properly pronounce all of your words? I don't realize I'm talking that fast, I just get so caught up on a thought that I have to get it out before I can forget it. Maybe one day I'll learn to control the speed of my speech and hold on to my words better. Until then, frequent blog posts, because text is one of the few places where I don't lose words and can express all the thoughts that I have in my mind without getting tongue-tied.
Today had no theme. Maybe the next post will. Sorry if you read this post on nothing.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Fires.
RREEAANNGH...RREEAANNGH...RREEAANNGH....
Through my somewhat sound proof dorm doors and walls, I hear the fire alarm and sigh. The fire alarm goes off when there's a fire, or when someone burns something pretty badly, or when someone just pulls it for no reason. One of these happens once a month or so. When it does, we all have to exit the dorm and stand across the street, staring at the dorm until we can re-enter. Or we can walk away and do something else and come back later when we're allowed in again.
I find some shoes and my purse, exit the door, cringe as I stand next to the alarm to lock my door (they are very loud. Probably so they can wake up people in their beds and be heard by people in showers) and walk to the nearest staircase. I don't use the elevator. (I never would, cause I'm only on the third floor, but even if I did, I wouldn't in the event of this supposed fire.)
I, along with many other students, cross the street to stare at the dorm as the campus police pull up. Most people look kind of ticked. One person is dripping wet, she probably got caught in the shower. Someone else is holding a basket full of laundry. Apparently in dorms people steal clothes. I spent two years faithfully guarding my clothes every time I went to do laundry. Then, once I accidentally left a shirt in the washer. Later that evening, while walking by the laundry room, someone had left my shirt on the counter. Either nobody wants my clothes, or people actually have no use for stealing my clothes. Last week I left my clothes in the washer and went back to my room, only returning to move them to the dryer and collect them. Seeing as I did collect them, they weren't stolen. Either way, these people hadn't yet realized that nobody else in the dorm wants their clothes.
After a few minutes, we hear the approaching fire truck siren. The truck pulls up in the road we crossed, partially obstructing our view of the dorm. Two firemen, in gear, enter the building, looking less than worried at the smoke free dormitory. I sit on the curb and wonder how long it will take them. In theory, they check dorms for students. I've always considered just staying in my dorm. However, I'm afraid of breaking rules, so then I consider hiding in my closet. Then I remember the alarm also goes off if there actually is a fire, so I decide to exit the building.
A student exits the dorm. A little late, eh? A few minutes later, the firemen exit with two RAs that accompanied them on their sweep of the dorm. The firemen return to the truck. Instead of getting in, he waves us closer. We gather around. Over the quite loud sound of the fire truck engine, he begins to lecture us. He shows us the ID he confiscated from a student that didnt' exit the dorm. "When the alarm goes off, you'd better leave. I know some of you want to stay in your bed or..." He turns to the crowd opposite of me, and his voice is lost in that stupid engine. "Next time, for every ID I confiscate, you guys will wait here an hour. Is that clear?" I scowl at him in return, though the crowd sort of nods and murmurs in approval. He gives us the clear, and we walk back into the dorm. I think about what he said, while I reopen the doors in the building. Certain doors, like those leading to stairwells, are always propped open, held back by a magnet that releases when the alarms go off. When we re-enter, I try to reprop some of the doors, though eventually they all are back to being opened as usual.
I think his claim was unfair. I paid my dorm fees, and this is my one home within four hours, in which I keep most of my belongings. The majority of students don't take anything that could help during a four hour lockout from the dorm. I figure we spend the minutes waiting for the all clear contemplating what it would be like to actually lose everything in that dorm room to a fire. Some people are dripping wet, others carrying baskets of clothes. And he's threatening us, the ones that followed the rules and evacuated as quickly as possible, to have to stay outside longer just because someone else didn't feel like leaving in time?
Seems unfair to me.
Through my somewhat sound proof dorm doors and walls, I hear the fire alarm and sigh. The fire alarm goes off when there's a fire, or when someone burns something pretty badly, or when someone just pulls it for no reason. One of these happens once a month or so. When it does, we all have to exit the dorm and stand across the street, staring at the dorm until we can re-enter. Or we can walk away and do something else and come back later when we're allowed in again.
I find some shoes and my purse, exit the door, cringe as I stand next to the alarm to lock my door (they are very loud. Probably so they can wake up people in their beds and be heard by people in showers) and walk to the nearest staircase. I don't use the elevator. (I never would, cause I'm only on the third floor, but even if I did, I wouldn't in the event of this supposed fire.)
I, along with many other students, cross the street to stare at the dorm as the campus police pull up. Most people look kind of ticked. One person is dripping wet, she probably got caught in the shower. Someone else is holding a basket full of laundry. Apparently in dorms people steal clothes. I spent two years faithfully guarding my clothes every time I went to do laundry. Then, once I accidentally left a shirt in the washer. Later that evening, while walking by the laundry room, someone had left my shirt on the counter. Either nobody wants my clothes, or people actually have no use for stealing my clothes. Last week I left my clothes in the washer and went back to my room, only returning to move them to the dryer and collect them. Seeing as I did collect them, they weren't stolen. Either way, these people hadn't yet realized that nobody else in the dorm wants their clothes.
After a few minutes, we hear the approaching fire truck siren. The truck pulls up in the road we crossed, partially obstructing our view of the dorm. Two firemen, in gear, enter the building, looking less than worried at the smoke free dormitory. I sit on the curb and wonder how long it will take them. In theory, they check dorms for students. I've always considered just staying in my dorm. However, I'm afraid of breaking rules, so then I consider hiding in my closet. Then I remember the alarm also goes off if there actually is a fire, so I decide to exit the building.
A student exits the dorm. A little late, eh? A few minutes later, the firemen exit with two RAs that accompanied them on their sweep of the dorm. The firemen return to the truck. Instead of getting in, he waves us closer. We gather around. Over the quite loud sound of the fire truck engine, he begins to lecture us. He shows us the ID he confiscated from a student that didnt' exit the dorm. "When the alarm goes off, you'd better leave. I know some of you want to stay in your bed or..." He turns to the crowd opposite of me, and his voice is lost in that stupid engine. "Next time, for every ID I confiscate, you guys will wait here an hour. Is that clear?" I scowl at him in return, though the crowd sort of nods and murmurs in approval. He gives us the clear, and we walk back into the dorm. I think about what he said, while I reopen the doors in the building. Certain doors, like those leading to stairwells, are always propped open, held back by a magnet that releases when the alarms go off. When we re-enter, I try to reprop some of the doors, though eventually they all are back to being opened as usual.
I think his claim was unfair. I paid my dorm fees, and this is my one home within four hours, in which I keep most of my belongings. The majority of students don't take anything that could help during a four hour lockout from the dorm. I figure we spend the minutes waiting for the all clear contemplating what it would be like to actually lose everything in that dorm room to a fire. Some people are dripping wet, others carrying baskets of clothes. And he's threatening us, the ones that followed the rules and evacuated as quickly as possible, to have to stay outside longer just because someone else didn't feel like leaving in time?
Seems unfair to me.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Driving.
College kids don't always own cars. I personally have always had my car at college, though I usually only use it once or twice a week if I can help it; I walk almost everywhere I can. Usually grocery shopping, volunteering, and churchgoing take me outside of walking range. Since there are a number of us on campus in this same sort of situation (Leah, Daniel, Judy, etc.) we usually carpool. For example, the weekly Tuesday get McDonald's and Wal-mart occurs after I have finished volunteering. I pick up Daniel and Leah in my car, since parking is still so horrible that there's no use trying to find a spot. Leah and I alternate driving the carpool to church, etc.
It rarely happens that I am driving my car alone at some point without specific plans in the very near future. However, today was one of those unusual exceptions. I drove to meet my friend Eric (he is one of the four or so people from my high school class that came to the same university, and the only one with whom I've kept any contact) for dinner. After some wonderful firehouse subs (right after I'd finished the blog prior to this!) I began the drive back to my dorm. It was one of my favorite times of the day; the sun was below the horizon, so the sky was still light, though there was no blinding glare in any direction. I was listening to music, and suddenly I realized I was not ready to park and walk back up to my dorm. I didn't want to stop driving, I didn't want to be here this weekend. I wanted to drive somewhere, maybe home, with just what I had in the car (basically just my purse.) No extra clothes, no preparations, no computer. Just drive somewhere far away.
I don't know what stopped me. Maybe some of my spontaneity is gone, maybe I know better than to make rash decisions, maybe I figured Mom would think I was ridiculous since she'll be here Tuesday, maybe I figured that it wasn't worth going on a trip without friends with me, though half the beauty of the car ride was the solitude. But either way, I followed the usual route back to the gravel lot where I always park, and calmly pulled my car into the spot where my car always resides. I exited my car and took the same path to my dorm room as I always do.
Jess told me once that I drive more than anyone she knew. I seem to spend many a weekend traveling. Last year I blamed the long-distance relationship, which was part of it, same with the month of December. However, it's really not that, because without those reasons I still find myself out of town frequently, whether visiting Jess or family or finding some other reason to draw me away. I just don't like staying put for too long. Maybe it's because I'm torn between my college home and the home where I was raised. Maybe it's because I miss all of the people whom I love. Maybe I just get restless staying in one place for too long and feel the need to change my life up. Maybe I'm not busy enough here, since I have so much more free time in college than I ever did in high school. Whatever the reason, I felt it tugging at me again tonight, the need to just drive, to go, to break free from routine, the desire to go somewhere else and see people I haven't seen in a while. Though I know if I left, I'd miss the friends still here. Neither option was really fully satisfying.
Now I sit in my room, on my bed, typing this blog, while the sun sets out the window. Somewhere in the course of the sun's descent and the onset of night, the sky will turn a shade somewhere between night blue and sky blue, and I'll smile, because it's the color I love best. And I'll continue this weekend like any other here, push the restlessness down, and find contentedness with where I am. I'll enjoy time with the friends that I love, and find time to get in touch with the people that I don't get to see in person daily.
And in a month I'll drive home for the summer, and in a few weeks I'll be itching for another trip. And next time, maybe I'll keep driving.
It rarely happens that I am driving my car alone at some point without specific plans in the very near future. However, today was one of those unusual exceptions. I drove to meet my friend Eric (he is one of the four or so people from my high school class that came to the same university, and the only one with whom I've kept any contact) for dinner. After some wonderful firehouse subs (right after I'd finished the blog prior to this!) I began the drive back to my dorm. It was one of my favorite times of the day; the sun was below the horizon, so the sky was still light, though there was no blinding glare in any direction. I was listening to music, and suddenly I realized I was not ready to park and walk back up to my dorm. I didn't want to stop driving, I didn't want to be here this weekend. I wanted to drive somewhere, maybe home, with just what I had in the car (basically just my purse.) No extra clothes, no preparations, no computer. Just drive somewhere far away.
I don't know what stopped me. Maybe some of my spontaneity is gone, maybe I know better than to make rash decisions, maybe I figured Mom would think I was ridiculous since she'll be here Tuesday, maybe I figured that it wasn't worth going on a trip without friends with me, though half the beauty of the car ride was the solitude. But either way, I followed the usual route back to the gravel lot where I always park, and calmly pulled my car into the spot where my car always resides. I exited my car and took the same path to my dorm room as I always do.
Jess told me once that I drive more than anyone she knew. I seem to spend many a weekend traveling. Last year I blamed the long-distance relationship, which was part of it, same with the month of December. However, it's really not that, because without those reasons I still find myself out of town frequently, whether visiting Jess or family or finding some other reason to draw me away. I just don't like staying put for too long. Maybe it's because I'm torn between my college home and the home where I was raised. Maybe it's because I miss all of the people whom I love. Maybe I just get restless staying in one place for too long and feel the need to change my life up. Maybe I'm not busy enough here, since I have so much more free time in college than I ever did in high school. Whatever the reason, I felt it tugging at me again tonight, the need to just drive, to go, to break free from routine, the desire to go somewhere else and see people I haven't seen in a while. Though I know if I left, I'd miss the friends still here. Neither option was really fully satisfying.
Now I sit in my room, on my bed, typing this blog, while the sun sets out the window. Somewhere in the course of the sun's descent and the onset of night, the sky will turn a shade somewhere between night blue and sky blue, and I'll smile, because it's the color I love best. And I'll continue this weekend like any other here, push the restlessness down, and find contentedness with where I am. I'll enjoy time with the friends that I love, and find time to get in touch with the people that I don't get to see in person daily.
And in a month I'll drive home for the summer, and in a few weeks I'll be itching for another trip. And next time, maybe I'll keep driving.
Food.
My favorite food is, without a doubt, pizza. Many of my friends.. Jess.. share similar, if not identical views. Maybe it is why we are friends.
I have always loved pizza, from quite a young age. During high school, when I became busy and ate on my own, not as family dinners, I lived on frozen pizzas. Tostino's pizzas are wonderful. I ate them and bagel bites. You must not microwave the bagel bites. This is imperative. Jeff used to commit this atrocity before I showed him the light of yummy, crispy, pizza-y bagels. You can use an oven or preferable a toaster oven. Microwaves and frozen pizza is a horrible, horrible idea, though I microwaved a lean cuisine pizza the other day and it was bearable. However, by eating some combination of these foods on average four times a week, I survived. I think it was difficult for my parents when I left for college and they had to remember that there was no longer any need to buy the pizzas at the grocery store. In middle school, we had like a sandwich press and I used to make "pizza pockets," with bread, pizza sauce, and cheese. Good times.
Tostinos pizza rolls, as I recently discovered, are also tasty. Gauraw introduced me to these. Again, don't microwave them. Use ovens. Cheese needs to be baked, not radiated.
Now, another food I love almost as much though not quite as closely as pizza is subs. Is subs a singular way to refer to this food? Anyways, I love subs. I hated them until high school because I didn't like bread crust and they were all crust. Now, however, they are amazing. I never get cheese on them, it just ruins it (represent, Dustin!) I either get turkey or some sort of chicken. I prefer toasted subs, so I really like the trend of toasty subs that has taken over the sandwich industry. Now, here's some ideas of my sub choices.
Subway: Sweet Onion Chicken Terriyaki. This is an amazing sub, also a $5 footlong. Turkey is also good.
Quiznos: Honey Mustard Chicken. Wonderful. Again, Turkey is also good.
Firehouse: Turkey. I think that's all Iv'e ever tried.
Publix: Turkey. Or anything, really. Publix is a great maker of subs.
Jimmy John's: NOT acceptable. All college kids seem to think this place is the best. MAybe cause they deliver. Wrong. They are not toasty and have a weird refridgerator taste about them.
Blimpie: Occasionally I still find one of these. Turkey, of course. I am pretty predictable.
Arby's: They make toasted subs. Surprisingly good, though the turkey is a little dry and bland.
Dominos: Have yet to try their subs, if I'm ordering from them I'm obviously getting pizza.
Hungry Howie's: My mom loves their subs. I tried one once, not so much a fan. Maybe I should try it again sometime and see if my tastes have changed.
Dining Hall: My dining hall makes sandwiches, and then toasts them. They are good.
See, it's not that I'm against other subs, it's just that I usually always know what I want. If I'm going to Subway, it's because I am craving a specific sub, not because I want to try some other sub they have to offer. Quiznos also has good side salads. Publix has good side everythings. Like a whole store full of sides. And entrees.
I should not write blogs when I am hungry and figuring out what to do for dinner.
I have always loved pizza, from quite a young age. During high school, when I became busy and ate on my own, not as family dinners, I lived on frozen pizzas. Tostino's pizzas are wonderful. I ate them and bagel bites. You must not microwave the bagel bites. This is imperative. Jeff used to commit this atrocity before I showed him the light of yummy, crispy, pizza-y bagels. You can use an oven or preferable a toaster oven. Microwaves and frozen pizza is a horrible, horrible idea, though I microwaved a lean cuisine pizza the other day and it was bearable. However, by eating some combination of these foods on average four times a week, I survived. I think it was difficult for my parents when I left for college and they had to remember that there was no longer any need to buy the pizzas at the grocery store. In middle school, we had like a sandwich press and I used to make "pizza pockets," with bread, pizza sauce, and cheese. Good times.
Tostinos pizza rolls, as I recently discovered, are also tasty. Gauraw introduced me to these. Again, don't microwave them. Use ovens. Cheese needs to be baked, not radiated.
Now, another food I love almost as much though not quite as closely as pizza is subs. Is subs a singular way to refer to this food? Anyways, I love subs. I hated them until high school because I didn't like bread crust and they were all crust. Now, however, they are amazing. I never get cheese on them, it just ruins it (represent, Dustin!) I either get turkey or some sort of chicken. I prefer toasted subs, so I really like the trend of toasty subs that has taken over the sandwich industry. Now, here's some ideas of my sub choices.
Subway: Sweet Onion Chicken Terriyaki. This is an amazing sub, also a $5 footlong. Turkey is also good.
Quiznos: Honey Mustard Chicken. Wonderful. Again, Turkey is also good.
Firehouse: Turkey. I think that's all Iv'e ever tried.
Publix: Turkey. Or anything, really. Publix is a great maker of subs.
Jimmy John's: NOT acceptable. All college kids seem to think this place is the best. MAybe cause they deliver. Wrong. They are not toasty and have a weird refridgerator taste about them.
Blimpie: Occasionally I still find one of these. Turkey, of course. I am pretty predictable.
Arby's: They make toasted subs. Surprisingly good, though the turkey is a little dry and bland.
Dominos: Have yet to try their subs, if I'm ordering from them I'm obviously getting pizza.
Hungry Howie's: My mom loves their subs. I tried one once, not so much a fan. Maybe I should try it again sometime and see if my tastes have changed.
Dining Hall: My dining hall makes sandwiches, and then toasts them. They are good.
See, it's not that I'm against other subs, it's just that I usually always know what I want. If I'm going to Subway, it's because I am craving a specific sub, not because I want to try some other sub they have to offer. Quiznos also has good side salads. Publix has good side everythings. Like a whole store full of sides. And entrees.
I should not write blogs when I am hungry and figuring out what to do for dinner.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Umbrellas.
Yesterday, I was at Wal-mart with Leah and Daniel, Leah's boyfriend. Daniel and I have coupons for McDonald's, so we go every Tuesday to get our free value meal, then go to the Wal-mart behind the McDonald's for our weekly shopping excursion. I had a caramel iced coffee, which was the perfect balance of coffe, caramel, milk, and sweetness.
Anyways, the weather has been frightful these past few days, what with tornado warnings, rain, thunder, and the like. Did you know tornadoes on average have a 500 foot diameter? Some get to be over a mile. This is something I have often wondered and only recently remembered that I wondered it within range of the internet. Now I know. Anyways, as we go to walk into Wal-mart, we open our umbrellas to the drizzly water falling from the bland gray sky. Daniel's umbrella does not open properly. It "works," its just one of the spokes is broken.
My mother always gets the words "jump rope" and umbrella confused. Even to this day, she'll tell her students to play with the umbrella and reminds us not to forget the jump rope. I always assumed that she learned these words in the same vocabulary lesson as a child and her brain filed them next to each other, like me always confusing Leah, Mary, and Judy. And alot of other words. My friends tell me that I talk oddly. I get caught up on words, I talk so fast that I can't physically form the words, and sometimes I use the complete wrong words. They can usually contextually tell what I'm saying, so they don't correct me, and so I never know. Also, I confuse beginnings, like Chepsi Perry (cherry pepsi.)
So, Daniel decides to buy a new umbrella. As he stands next to the stand of umbrellas, I think, Ive been here before. Deja Vu! Actually, it wasn't deja vu, I had in fact been in that scenario twice before. Daniel is on his fourth umbrella this year, and the handle on the fourth is already breaking. He has the worst of luck with umbrellas, poor guy.
For Christmas somebody should buy him an umbrella with a lifetime warranty, Leah and I decided. My umbrella, which I got at the beginning of the semester, is beginning to break. It gets jammed when I try to open it. It still works well enough for me, though. Maybe it'll get sunny again and I won't have such a need for umbrellas. This weather is crazy. I like the rain unless I'm trying to walk across campus to my class.
At least the weather fights the pollen. Whenever it doesn't rain, all the cars everywhere on campus, even the ones in garages, are covered in a sheet of yellow powder. It's not exactly pleasant.
I hope Daniel's new umbrella lasts a good long time.
Anyways, the weather has been frightful these past few days, what with tornado warnings, rain, thunder, and the like. Did you know tornadoes on average have a 500 foot diameter? Some get to be over a mile. This is something I have often wondered and only recently remembered that I wondered it within range of the internet. Now I know. Anyways, as we go to walk into Wal-mart, we open our umbrellas to the drizzly water falling from the bland gray sky. Daniel's umbrella does not open properly. It "works," its just one of the spokes is broken.
My mother always gets the words "jump rope" and umbrella confused. Even to this day, she'll tell her students to play with the umbrella and reminds us not to forget the jump rope. I always assumed that she learned these words in the same vocabulary lesson as a child and her brain filed them next to each other, like me always confusing Leah, Mary, and Judy. And alot of other words. My friends tell me that I talk oddly. I get caught up on words, I talk so fast that I can't physically form the words, and sometimes I use the complete wrong words. They can usually contextually tell what I'm saying, so they don't correct me, and so I never know. Also, I confuse beginnings, like Chepsi Perry (cherry pepsi.)
So, Daniel decides to buy a new umbrella. As he stands next to the stand of umbrellas, I think, Ive been here before. Deja Vu! Actually, it wasn't deja vu, I had in fact been in that scenario twice before. Daniel is on his fourth umbrella this year, and the handle on the fourth is already breaking. He has the worst of luck with umbrellas, poor guy.
For Christmas somebody should buy him an umbrella with a lifetime warranty, Leah and I decided. My umbrella, which I got at the beginning of the semester, is beginning to break. It gets jammed when I try to open it. It still works well enough for me, though. Maybe it'll get sunny again and I won't have such a need for umbrellas. This weather is crazy. I like the rain unless I'm trying to walk across campus to my class.
At least the weather fights the pollen. Whenever it doesn't rain, all the cars everywhere on campus, even the ones in garages, are covered in a sheet of yellow powder. It's not exactly pleasant.
I hope Daniel's new umbrella lasts a good long time.
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