September 25, 2012

  • Top Five Short Stories of All Time

    Being enrolled in the intro English class after already taking two Creative Writing courses... well, it sucks. But right now we're focusing a lot on literary elements, symbolism, the three types of irony, pathos ethos largos, bleh bleh bleh... it honestly feels like a high school class. What is a little cool about this class, is that we're studying these elements only through short stories. I love short stories! So, here is my list of the top five short stories of all time, as voted by me and a few people I know.

    5. The Tell Tale Heart

    The short story begins with a sense of fear and urgency.  The unnamed narrator explains to the reader that he is nervous, but in no way mad.  The narrator begins to calmly tell a whole story of how he kills an old man that he loves and takes care of for no reason other than the old man’s one dreadful blue eye.  Every night at midnight, he opens the old man’s bedroom door and shines just a thin ray of light onto the Evil Eye.  He explains that he cannot kill the man with his eye closed, so nighttime continues to pass and in the morning he acts completely normal with the poor old man.

    On the eighth night, the old man wakes up as he peers his head into the room.  The man cries out wondering who is there, but the narrator does not respond.  Instead, he stands in the shadows of the dark room where the old man cannot see him and waits there for a while, listening to the old man’s terror.  He finally shines a thin ray of light from the lantern on the vulture eye, and it was open!  He still does not kill him until he hears the loud beating of the old man’s heart, growing louder and louder by the minute.  Fearing that one of the neighbor’s will hear the heartbeat; he leaps forward and drags the man to the floor.  He then throws the heavy bed over him, waiting until the muffled heartbeat stops.  He hides the corpse of the man in the floorboards of the bedroom chamber.

    At four o’clock, three policemen knock at the door.  The narrator confidently answers it, thinking that he now has nothing to fear.  They explain that they are there because a neighbor called after hearing a loud shriek.  The man tells them that it was simply his shriek in a dream, and that the old man is out of town.  He invited the police in, and even leads them right up to the bedroom chamber.  He brings chairs into the room and invites them to rest, placing his own chair right over the old man’s body.  While chatting with the police, he begins to hear the thumping sound of the old man’s heart.  Thinking that they must hear it too and know his guilt, he confesses his murderous deed and tells the men to pull up the floorboards.

    4. A Clean and Well Lighted Place

    Late in the early morning hours, in a Spanish cafe, an old man drinks brandy. A young waiter is angry; he wishes that the old man would leave so that he and an older waiter could close the cafe and go home. He insults the deaf old man and is painfully indifferent to the older waiter's feelings when he states that "an old man is a nasty thing." The older waiter, however, realizes that the old man drinking brandy after brandy is not nasty; he is only lonely. No doubt, that's the reason why the old man tried to hang himself last week.

    When the old man leaves, the waiters close the cafe. The young waiter leaves for home, and the older waiter walks to an all-night cafe where, thinking about the terrible emptiness of the old man's life which he keenly identifies with, he orders a cup of nada from the waiter. A cup of nothing. The man who takes the order thinks that the old waiter is just another crazy old man; he brings him coffee.

    Finishing the coffee, the older waiter begins his trudge homeward. Sleep is hours away. Until then, he must try to cope bravely with the dark nothingness of the night.

    3. The Yellow Wallpaper

    The narrator and her physician husband, John, have rented a mansion for the summer so that she can recuperate from a “slight hysterical tendency.” Although the narrator does not believe that she is actually ill, John is convinced that she is suffering from “neurasthenia” and prescribes the “rest cure” treatment. She is confined to bed rest in a former nursery room and is forbidden from working or writing. The spacious, sunlit room has yellow wallpaper – stripped off in two places – with a hideous, chaotic pattern. The narrator detests the wallpaper, but John refuses to change rooms, arguing that the nursery is best-suited for her recovery.

    Two weeks later, the narrator’s condition has worsened. She feels a constant sense of anxiety and fatigue and can barely muster enough energy to write in her secret journal. Fortunately, their nanny, Mary, takes care of their baby, and John's sister, Jennie, is a perfect housekeeper. The narrator's irritation with the wallpaper grows; she discovers a recurring pattern of bulbous eyes and broken necks, as well as the faint image of a skulking figure stuck behind the pattern.

    As more days pass, the narrator grows increasingly anxious and depressed. The wallpaper provides her only stimulation, and she spends the majority of her time studying its confusing patterns which, as she asserts, are almost as “good as gymnastics.” The image of the figure stooping down and "creeping" around behind the wallpaper becomes clearer each day. By moonlight, she can see very distinctly that the figure is a woman trapped behind bars. The narrator attempts to convince John to leave the house for a visit with relatives, but he refuses, and the narrator does not feel comfortable confiding in him about her discoveries in the wallpaper. Moreover, she is becoming paranoid that John and Jennie are also interested in the wallpaper and is determined that only she will uncover its secrets.

    The narrator's health improves as her interest in the wallpaper deepens. She suspects that Jennie and John are observing her behavior, but her only concern is that they become obstacles to her and the wallpaper. She also begins to notice that the distinct "yellow smell" of the wallpaper has spread over the house, following her even when she goes for rides. At night, the woman in the wallpaper shakes the bars in the pattern violently as she tries to break through them, but she cannot break free. The swirling pattern has strangled the heads of the many women who have tried to break through the wallpaper. The narrator begins to hallucinate, believing that she has seen the woman creeping surreptitiously outside in the sunlight. The narrator intends to peel off the wallpaper before she leaves the house in two days.

    That night, the narrator helps the woman in the wallpaper by peeling off the wallpaper halfway around the room. The next day, Jennie is shocked, but the narrator convinces her that she only stripped the wallpaper out of spite. Jennie is able to understand the desire to peel off the ugly wallpaper and does not tell John that anything is out of the ordinary. The next night, the narrator locks herself in her room and continues stripping the wallpaper. She hears shrieks within the wallpaper as she tears it off. She contemplates jumping out of a window, but the bars prevent that; besides, she is afraid of all of the women that are creeping about outside of the house. When morning comes, the narrator has peeled off all of the wallpaper and begun to creep around the perimeter of the room. John eventually breaks into the room, but the narrator does not recognize him. She informs him that she has peeled off most of the wallpaper so that now no one can put her back inside the walls. John faints, and the narrator continues creeping around the room over him.

    2. Araby

    The narrator, an unnamed boy, describes the North Dublin street on which his house is located. He thinks about the priest who died in the house before his family moved in and the games that he and his friends played in the street. He recalls how they would run through the back lanes of the houses and hide in the shadows when they reached the street again, hoping to avoid people in the neighborhood, particularly the boy’s uncle or the sister of his friend Mangan. The sister often comes to the front of their house to call the brother, a moment that the narrator savors.

    Every day begins for this narrator with such glimpses of Mangan’s sister. He places himself in the front room of his house so he can see her leave her house, and then he rushes out to walk behind her quietly until finally passing her. The narrator and Mangan’s sister talk little, but she is always in his thoughts. He thinks about her when he accompanies his aunt to do food shopping on Saturday evening in the busy marketplace and when he sits in the back room of his house alone. The narrator’s infatuation is so intense that he fears he will never gather the courage to speak with the girl and express his feelings.

    One morning, Mangan’s sister asks the narrator if he plans to go to Araby, a Dublin bazaar. She notes that she cannot attend, as she has already committed to attend a retreat with her school. Having recovered from the shock of the conversation, the narrator offers to bring her something from the bazaar. This brief meeting launches the narrator into a period of eager, restless waiting and fidgety tension in anticipation of the bazaar. He cannot focus in school. He finds the lessons tedious, and they distract him from thinking about Mangan’s sister.

    On the morning of the bazaar the narrator reminds his uncle that he plans to attend the event so that the uncle will return home early and provide train fare. Yet dinner passes and a guest visits, but the uncle does not return. The narrator impatiently endures the time passing, until at 9 p.m. the uncle finally returns, unbothered that he has forgotten about the narrator’s plans. Reciting the epigram “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” the uncle gives the narrator the money and asks him if he knows the poem “The Arab’s Farewell to his Steed.” The narrator leaves just as his uncle begins to recite the lines, and, thanks to eternally slow trains, arrives at the bazaar just before 10 p.m., when it is starting to close down. He approaches one stall that is still open, but buys nothing, feeling unwanted by the woman watching over the goods. With no purchase for Mangan’s sister, the narrator stands angrily in the deserted bazaar as the lights go out.

    1. All Summer in a Day

    The story is about a class of school children on Venus, which in this story is a world of constant rainstorms, where the sun is only visible for one hour every seven years.

    One of the children, Margot, moved to Venus from Earth five years earlier, and she is the only one in her class to remember sunshine, since it shone regularly on earth. She describes the sun as "a penny", or "like a fire in the stove", and the other children, being too young to have ever seen it themselves, refuse to believe her accounting of it. Out of jealousy, she is bullied and ostracized by the other students and finally locked in a closet during the time the sun is due to come out.

    As the sun is about to appear, their teacher arrives to take the class outside to enjoy their only hour of sunshine, and in their astonishment and joy, they all forget about Margot. They run, play, skip, jump, and prance about, savoring every second of their newly found freedom. "It's much better than sun lamps!" one of them cries.

    Suddenly, a girl feels a raindrop on her. Thunder sounds, and they run back inside. Then, one of them remembers Margot, who is still locked in the closet. They stand frozen ashamed for what they have done, unable to "meet each other's glances."

    The precious sun has come and gone, and because of their despicable act, Margot has missed it. They walk slowly and silently towards the closet, and let her out.

     

    There they are, my favorite short stories, most of the general public would agree - while a good percentile would think I'm crazy for even listing All Summer in a Day. I love short stories. More action, less pages. Short stories - great works of literature.

September 19, 2012

  • Day 20

    Day 01- A picture of yourself with fifteen facts.
    Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been close with the longest.
    Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.
    Day 04 - A picture of a habit you wish you didn't have..........
    Day 05 - A picture of your favourite memory.
    Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.
    Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item.
    Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.
    Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.
    Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most messed up things with.
    Day 11 - A picture of something you hate.
    Day 12 - A picture of something you love.
    Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist.
    Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.
    Day 15 - A picture of something you want to do before you die.
    Day 16 - A picture of someone who inspires you.
    Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.
    Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity.
    Day 19 - A picture of you when you were little.
    Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.
    Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.
    Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at.
    Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book.
    Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change.
    Day 25 - A picture of your day.
    Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you.
    Day 27 - A picture of yourself and a family member.
    Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of.
    Day 29 - A picture that can always make you smile.
    Day 30 - A picture of someone you miss.

    Iceland

    I'm a bit of a world traveler. I've been all over Europe, several countries in Asia, but the one place that intrigues me the most is Iceland. I love the viking heritage, and am beyond fascinated with Icelandic mythology. For example, in Icelandic folklore the volcano the recently blew its top is also Hell on Earth. I just love to learn, and I have a background in Nordic/German languages. Most people don't know this, but on my father's side (the side I'm closest to); we are the only ones in the U.S.. That's right. Dad's family started in Finland (hence the many toeheads), then somehow a few of us come out with ginger.

    I've got family in Finland of course, Denmark, Sweden, Germany, and The Czech Republic. Another thing most people don't know about me (because it's a little strange and off-setting) is that I'm 100% fluent in Finish, Spanish (so easy), German, Russian and French. Danish, Swedish, Czech, just never clicked, and given my Nordic/German/Romantic(Spanish) backgrounds; I've never really tried to learn Mandarin or Japanese.

    Traveling to Iceland would immerse me in an unfamiliar (but awesome) culture, language, and history. Iceland would 'broaden my horizon' so to speak. I'd love it there. I've made plans to travel abroad in Ireland to study 20th century literature, but after some research on Iceland, I may have changed my mind.

September 17, 2012

  • Day 19

    Day 01- A picture of yourself with fifteen facts.
    Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been close with the longest.
    Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.
    Day 04 - A picture of a habit you wish you didn't have..........
    Day 05 - A picture of your favourite memory.
    Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.
    Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item.
    Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.
    Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.
    Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most messed up things with.
    Day 11 - A picture of something you hate.
    Day 12 - A picture of something you love.
    Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist.
    Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.
    Day 15 - A picture of something you want to do before you die.
    Day 16 - A picture of someone who inspires you.
    Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.
    Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity.
    Day 19 - A picture of you when you were little.
    Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.
    Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.
    Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at.
    Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book.
    Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change.
    Day 25 - A picture of your day.
    Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you.
    Day 27 - A picture of yourself and a family member.
    Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of.
    Day 29 - A picture that can always make you smile.
    Day 30 - A picture of someone you miss.

    I Guess this Counts


    I was fourteen, so seeing as how I'm just about twenty now; a Freshman fourteen-year-old would count as little. I was kinda cute, yeah? This was taken on Thanksgiving (when it was snowing!) at my grandmother's house in Arlington, Texas. Big step up from Holland, right? Cassandra took this with a little megapixel camera while I was talking to her:

     

    it's Sally Kate. I wish I had a better picture of her, but i couldn't find one. Yep, she's a Baylor girl and she loves to rub it in. Baylor/A&M are kind of the family schools. We've had a couple stray. Val and Clint to Michigan, and Julia to Dallas Baptist. I swear I was almost beheaded when I committed to AC.

    But at fourteen, I wanted nothing but to sport the green and gold. I chose AC to travel abroad, not live in Waco, and live around people far less conservative profs and students. So yes, in these six years between my Freshman year at Shepton to my Sophomore year at AC. It's been hard growing up as the seventh (last) girl in the family. They like to keep me in baby mode. As a fourteen-year-old. I still wasn't helping my mom and dad cook for family holidays. I'm twenty and I still sit at the kid's table with my baby nieces and nephews.

    Since I was fourteen, I have grown up. I live alone, take care of myself, shop for groceries, and cook for myself (and sometimes my boyfriend. ugh.). I love my life now, not being told to sit down and let your sister deal with everything. It's awesome.

    For Comparison

    Amanda, Age Twenty. Yep not little anymore.

September 3, 2012

  • Home Again!

    At Austin College, move in day and registration is a two day ordeal. It's exhausting, and we all hate it. I don't know why, but half the family feels like they need to join me in the process. It's kind of a tradition. "Move your brother/sister into college day". I went with Clinton to Michigan two weeks ago, Sally Kate to Baylor last week, and Adam to UT just a few days ago. I'm the last to move in. Austin College, whoopie. Seriously, it is pretty cool here. But seriously, moving into a dorm is not a thirty man (or however many people we had) operation. 

    Makali drove up from Grapevine with her two kids, Julia from Southlake, Valerie (@GingerAvenger) from Keller, and Cassandra seriously drove all the way from Amarillo two months after having a baby - all complaining about something. But who hated this catastrophe the most? Me! Why?

    1)Three-brothers-in-law hauling boxes.

    2)Their kiddies riding on the dolly, hiding in the closet, and playing in the fountains.

    5)Four sisters with four million different opinions on how to decorate (none watching their kids).

    6)Grandpa throwing a pissy fit because the lamp I picked out is a piece of shit.

    7)My parents escaping to City Limits (it's a restaurant), too embarrassed to be seen around their crazy kids.

    6)Three step-brothers fighting with each other about how to set up the blu-ray.

    7)Julia freaking out when she realizes her 18-month-old has been playing in the fountain for two and a half hours.

    8)Valerie's baby vomiting in the RA's office.

    9)Julia's husband giving up and turning on the Ranger Game half way through.

    10)Cassandra whipping out her professional camera every five seconds.

    -and finally, once the furniture was moved in, low tones (emphasizing lilac) were on my walls, floors, and bed, my bear was safely resting on the bed, I realized every piece of clothing in the room was some kind of gift, hand-me-down, or just something nobody else wanted. Glories of being the youngest.

    I'm so happy to be back at school, even though we all went a little crazy.

August 30, 2012

  • Results of my Sleep Study

    I went to have a sleep study a few days ago, and today I got the results. On my first consultation the dr. stated that he was "at a loss as to why I was there", so he recommended a study. 

    Sleep studies are tests that record what happens to your body during sleep. The studies are done to find out what is causing your sleep problems. Sleep problems include:

    • Sleep apnea, when an adult regularly stops breathing during sleep for 10 seconds or longer. This may be caused by blocked airflow during sleep, such as from narrowed airways. Or it may be caused by a problem with how the brain signals the breathing muscles to work.
    • Problems staying awake, such as narcolepsy.
    • Problems with nighttime behaviors, such as sleepwalking, night terrors, or bed-wetting.
    • Problems sleeping at night (insomnia). This may be caused by stress,depression, hunger, physical discomfort, or other problem.
    • Problems sleeping during the day because you work at night or do rotating shift work. This sleep problem is called shift work sleep disorder.
    • Conditions such as periodic limb movement disorder, which is repeated muscletwitching of the feet, arms, or legs during sleep.

    Sleep studies can also determine whether you have a problem with your stages of sleep. The two stages of sleep are non-rapid eye movement (NREM) and rapid eye movement (REM). Normally, NREM and REM alternate 4 to 5 times during a night's sleep. A change in this cycle may make it hard for you to sleep soundly.

    The most common sleep studies are:

    • Polysomnogram. This test records several body functions during sleep, including brain activity, eye movement, oxygen and carbon dioxide blood levels,heart rate and rhythm, breathing rate and rhythm, the flow of air through your mouth and nose, snoring, body muscle movements, and chest and belly movement.
    • Multiple sleep latency test (MSLT). This test measures how long it takes you to fall asleep. It also determines whether you enter REM sleep.
    • Maintenance of wakefulness test (MWT). This test measures whether you can stay awake during a time when you are normally awake.

    My Polysomnogram determined that my sleep is extremely disturbed. When a person is in bed they should be asleep 90% of the time they are lying in bed. I was alseep 74.8%.  I had 61 awakenings. What was most shocking to me was that for the total night I had 0% REM sleep. My mother and I couldn't believe it. She looked at the doctor and said, "Can you believe she made an A with this?". He said "No, that's incredible." I am so relieved to know that I really do have a problem and that it can be treated. I never thought I would be so happy to be diagnosed with a disorder!

July 23, 2012

  • Watch Hill, Rhode Island. Fun Facts and Just Plain Fun

    Watch Hill was occupied in the 1600s by the Niantic Indians, who were led for many years by Chief Ninigret. Colonists later moved in and Watch Hill became a strategic lookout point during the French and Revolutionary Wars. In 1806, the historic Watch Hill lighthouse was built.

     

    During the early 20th century, the area grew to resort status and became home to many hotels and beach cottages. In 1938, a great hurricane wreaked havoc on the village and destroyed nearly all of the hotels and cottages. Despite many changes over time, Watch Hill remains a secluded and seasonal resort community.

    The town is considered a more staid and family-oriented community when compared to glittering Newport, the better-known summer getaway in Rhode Island. Bay Street in Watch Hill is lined with shops, restaurants, and businesses. East Beach and Napatree Point are the main beaches in Watch Hill.

July 18, 2012

  • A Rest in Cattails ©2007 Amanda Norman

    This is a old one.

    A Rest in Cattails

    By Amanda

    The grass scratched at her ankles. Keep walking. She demanded herself forward. The rustle of the cattails along the edge of the swamp meant food. A stolen knife was wedged in her pocket. She unsheathed the blade, murdered a bullfrog. A moment's glance into the swamp water and she saw herself - her matted hair, a perfect juxtaposition to her serene cognition. She smirked.

    "If only they’s knew," she muttered.

    They would soon know. Soon they would discover her note, left on Mother’s bed for the step-father to read. Only him. Not Mother. Mother was perfect. The Step-father, so undeserving of such beauty, would writhe when he read the note. Mother’s not so purty now, aint she?

    Her scarlet eyes flicked to the seeping bullfrog. She was never strong around blood, but this blood was beneath her. This animal, small, cold, slimy – she need only think of butchering the step-father and her nausea subsided. She robbed the critter of its legs and returned the shredded carcass to forever rest in the swamp. She cringed as she stuffed the legs into her pocket. Fire. She needed fire.

    Amber cattail plants danced in a chilly breeze. Epiphany. She uprooted the glorious plant a number of times. This was her cushion in the chilly night, the swinging cattails her curtains, the moon her lamplight, the cosmos her brilliant companions. Exhaustion had been fallowing her for miles. A fire could wait, she decided. Aint no harm in the cold. Them legs’ll makes some good breakfast. She lie in her bedroom of nature. The cattails oozed under her pressure and accepted her.

    The sun crawled beneath the plants, hid under the swamp water. She shivered on the damp foliage. Mother would come find her soon. She was sure of it – the step-father long gone: their broken family reassembled to perfection. She closed her eyes. After hours of fighting each other off, she and sleep found each other in black lightness.

    She felt fingers on her neck. The Sheriff hovered over her, examined her closely. The harsh sun high above the cattails had spoiled her breakfast. The Deputy approached the Sheriff in a hurry.

    "I've got 'er Mama on da phone." He stopped to catch a short breath. "Whaddo I say?"

    The image of the Sheriff's face was swept away as a tarp draped her body.

    "Hypothermia.”

July 14, 2012

  • I Lost my Bear!

    It's really not a secret that I still sleep with a teddy bear. Yes. it's a little embarrassing when my boyfriend sees it lying in the same spot everyday, but I love the thing. I've mentioned my bear before in an earlier post. It means a lot to me, and I probably should have used that on my 30days thing instead of a pair of shoes I've had since the tenth grade.

    This bear is older than I am. My parents bought it after some shotgun wedding in Broken Arrow, OK when my mom was 6 months pregnant, therefor the bear is at least 20 years old. The reason was that it reminded my dad of his sister's rag doll, Penny, that she's had since she was born. My aunt is 48-years-old. When I realized it wasn't in the same spot that I always lay it down on, I had a genuine panic attack. I do take medication daily for stress and anxiety, which is probably what allowed me to realize that my fear was irrational.

    I was hobbling around my room in hysterics, because I didn't know what would happen to it. On top of that, the maid came today and she always moves things around, so I didn't know if it was in some strange place where I would never find it. This morning, I called my daddy like a two year old and told him what was happening. All I could think of was 'Where's my bear?' "I lost my bear.' 'My bear is gone.' 'What happened to my bear?' My bear's whereabouts were the only thing running through my mind.

    The reason (I think) I panicked was because I am also very sleep deprived. I am living with my sister and her three small children. Her baby boy has been keeping me awake, and I have sleeping problems to begin with. I take hardcore meds for it. It's called Zanaflex (not to be confused with Xanax) and I am trying to be more responsible about the way I treat the medicine. I'm trying to wean myself off, because I am extremely addicted. I know this is stupid, because I am not a doctor and will never be one. Though, my father is a very well respected doctor in The Metroplex and he has set the dosage for me. It's been hard. I've been up since 4AM yesterday morning, and am starting to worry about my health, my future relationship with my pills, and returning to school with a GPA that is considered "below average". Thankfully, my mom decided to wash it because "God knows what's on that thing.". I'm so happy I was able to locate it, and tomorrow night I will sleep much better.

    This bear is a symbol to me. No matter what I think of my dad during the day, or really just whenever. On the days that I hate him and sometimes feel that he treats me with hate, I know in tnat moment - when he bought the bear in Broken Arrow - he loved me. This is the reason I love my bear so much, because that day in Broken Arrow, my daddy loved me more than anything. Honestly, is there anything more pure and true than a father's love for his daughter? I can't think of anything. I know one day I'll give this bear to my children for the same reason When I saw that it was gone, I was afraid that my future daughter (and I will have one - I'm adopting my kids), this would never happen. I am so relieved that I found my bear, and I know the man who loved me when he bought it is relieved too.

    Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to catch some sleep cuddling my Kangaroo (Katie) that my parents bought at the bookstore in Sherman.

July 9, 2012

  • Am I the Only One Not Feeling the Heat?

    Today I opened my browser to MSN and was shocked to see this article claiming that the recent heat has been the cause of 74 deaths.

    What was shocking to me, was that all temperatures recorded were barely in the 100's. It's midnight in Texas and 98 degrees. Tomorrow highs are in the high 90's with severe thunderstorms expected.

    Is 100F really that hot to most people outside the Southwest? (Do not throw in the 'but that's like a dry hot, right?', because it's not. Not in Dallas.) This summer is so nice compared to last when we met the 1980 record of must consecutive days over 100F (40, I think). We were going to break it, then it rained and dropped to around the 96-98 range. The summer of 2011 currently holds the record for most days over 100F, just not in a row. 

    My point? We're still warming up down here. August is the worst, but the weather has been so great thus far. Am I immune? I mean I am living without a functioning Air Conditioning Unit, on the second floor, two windows, two fans, with my crazy brother-in-law who keeps barking at me to wear longer shorts around his kids.

    The hottest temperature I remember, that stayed consistent, was somewhere in the 113-119 range last year. Usually around this time it starts to heat up to the 108-111 range.

    2011 Heat Map.

    June, 2012

    I took this on August 2nd 2011 at 5:30pm mostly to record that I was clearly not moving on the freeway, the photo also recorded how it was clearly very hot.

    Does 100F sound like hell to you? Does 110F sound like some kind of sickening exaggeration? Because to me, it sounds like a good day to chill by the pool.

July 7, 2012

  • Day 18

    Day 01- A picture of yourself with fifteen facts.
    Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been close with the longest.
    Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.
    Day 04 - A picture of a habit you wish you didn't have..........
    Day 05 - A picture of your favourite memory.
    Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.
    Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item.
    Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.
    Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.
    Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most messed up things with.
    Day 11 - A picture of something you hate.
    Day 12 - A picture of something you love.
    Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist.
    Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.
    Day 15 - A picture of something you want to do before you die.
    Day 16 - A picture of someone who inspires you.
    Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.
    Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity.
    Day 19 - A picture of you when you were little.
    Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.
    Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.
    Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at.
    Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book.
    Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change.
    Day 25 - A picture of your day.
    Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you.
    Day 27 - A picture of yourself and a family member.
    Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of.
    Day 29 - A picture that can always make you smile.
    Day 30 - A picture of someone you miss.

    Pills

    This thirty-day thing is starting to get more and more uncomfortable, but here we go. My name is Amanda. I'm nineteen years old. I take pills. Every morning, every night, I take pills. No one knows. No one needs to know, but I take them. Everything is prescribed by my doctor (not my daddy), and I take them. There is one pill in particular, Zanaflex (not to be confused with Xanax), that I abuse pretty bad.

    Zanaflex, or Tizanidine, is used to relieve the spasms and increased muscle tone caused by multiple sclerosis (MS, a disease in which the nerves do not function properly and patients may experience weakness, numbness, loss of muscle coordination and problems with vision, speech, and bladder control), stroke, or brain or spinal injury. Tizanidine is in a class of medications called skeletal muscle relaxants. It works by slowing action in the brain and nervous system to allow the muscles to relax. Go here for more information about this specific medication. I only take this medication at night, because I can't sleep without it. My doctor (and my daddy) have both, separately, acknowledged that I have a mild physical addition.

    I also take Vyvanse. Yes, that's right. Vyvanse. No, you can't have any. That's illegal. Vyvanse is used as part of a treatment program to control symptoms of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD; more difficulty focusing, controlling actions, and remaining still or quiet than other people who are the same age) in adults and children. Vyvanse is in a class of medications called central nervous system stimulants. It works by changing the amounts of certain natural substances in the brain. Go here for more about this medicine. Vyvanse is habit forming, but so far I've never abused it - and I never want to. I have no appetite when I'm on. I'm mean, irritable, and have to be doing something. Have to be doing something. It's like a compulsion to occupy myself. I hate it, but I take it. I don't have a choice.

    I'm on several other pills, but the two I mention are the two I hate. Really, one day I just want to know what it's like to wake up and not have to pop open a pill bottle. I want to be able to close my eyes and have them stay that way till morning. This is my biggest insecurity. Pills.