Looking back

                This semester has made me realize I really need to work on my procrastination. It is now hindering the work I turn in. I have learned that English does not have to be a class I dread anymore. I have come to the realization that I have no reason to fear my writing. Between this class and my other classes that required discussions, in general people like what I have to say. Are there areas for improvement? Without a doubt, I have learned I was not as proficient in areas as I thought I was; there are areas in which I excel in that I didn't recognize before. I need to stop thinking and just write! I can always go back and tweak things to make it outstanding in the end.

              This semester I have learned that I have way too much unnecessary stuff on my plate. That not being available to do everything is ok. Focusing my time on the most important things and making them the best they can be is far better than trying to be there for everything but only able to give a little each time. Spending time with my children is more important than doing things for them. I have always had a lot to say in life, knowing when to say it is what I have worked on this semester.
           
              One lesson that has smacked me in my face a time or two this semester is that my children watch everything I do! I have always tried to parent by example and follow up with telling them. I noticed lately that I was lacking in that rule and it was showing loud and clear in their faces. We are back on track and ready to be the parents our children deserve. I can't wait for the future!

             The most important lesson I have taken in this semester is discovering that my husband is truly my best friend. That he has and always will do anything for me and our family. He has been the one to comfort me, pick up my slack, show up when I need him, and listen to me. I am sorry it has taken me so long to recognize that. I couldn’t have dreamed for a better partner to conquer the journey of life with.

Word count: 386

Me in a nutshell

Domestic Engineer

-counselor, baker, party planner, event coordinator, crisis diversion, receptionist, advocate, time management skills, organizational supervisor, nurse, detective, judge, jury, lawyer, nutritionist, teacher, physical educator, home health aide, accounts billing manager, personal shopper, maintenance worker, budget planner, interior decorator, personal driver, contortionist, editor, patience, understanding, nurturer, LOVE

Head start teacher

-crisis management, organization, teaching, conflict resolution, nutritionist, activity coordinator, trainer, efficiency, physical education, CORE proficient

Parent Council

-Chairperson, advertisement, social work, coordinator, party planner, trainer scout, clerical duties, public speaking

Sandwich artist

- Excellent customer service, attention to detail, punctuality

Assistant Manager

-customer service training, excellent mathematics skills, proficient in QuickBooks, crisis management, interpersonal interpreter, purchaser, scheduling manager, inventory control, customer service satisfaction representative,

Waitress

- Efficiency, agility, superb social skills,

Delivery Driver

-map coordinator, POS proficient,

Robb's Inc.

- Cashier, building of pallets, Display designer

Scrap booker

- eye for detail, artistic expressionist, website coordinator

Cake Decorator

- express creativity, sugar artist, appreciation for cake decorators, sculptor

Social Gatherings

- News reporter, Facebook update, entertainment provider, comedian

 Word Count:  169

Thesis

It is apparent to me that the thesis of this essay was the speech given by the Governor of Virginia Mark Warner about learning from the past to prevent future mistakes.

1. Eugenics- this paragraph gives a brief description about what Eugenics is. It talks about negative and positive Eugenics and laws supporting Eugenics. In the 1920's and 30's the Eugenics movement was widespread and gaining support. 

2. Father of Eugenics- Francis Galton is known as the father of Eugenics and was among the elite men known as the Anglo-Saxons who were the main proprietors of the eugenics movement. They argued nature had far more effect than nurture.

3. Charles Darwin- promoted eugenics before the movement even came about. He said "it was injurious to the race of men... to allow the sick to procreate". The eugenics movement used Mendel's pea plant study of cross pollination to support their scientific findings about the human race.

 4. In 1895 laws were proposed forbidding marriages of the disabled that were of childrearing age. Most people thought the law was not strict enough and would be broken still so they fought to enforce sterilization. The only sterilization known at the time was mutilation and would lead to hormonal imbalances that at the time they could not replace with synthetic hormones. This brought about the discovery of vasectomies and salpingectomies as a more "humane" form of sterilization.

 5. Organizations like the American Breed Association and the American Eugenics Society tried to convince the public it was their moral obligation to support eugenics. Unfortunately they were successful in their efforts.

 6. Fitter Family contests took place at state fairs; families brought their children out to be scrutinized, judge, and sent through testing; all for the chance to win a medal of genetically superior. Eugenics was crammed down the throats of Americans between High School students studying eugenics at school, sermons on Sunday, movies, to college courses. The message was loud and clear disabled persons were unfit to procreate.

 7. Physicians were performing sterilizations before it was legal to do so. In 1924 Carrie Buck was the first person to be legally sterilized, based on factors of promiscuity, family history of mental health, and the fact she already had a child at age 17.

8. In the case Buck vs. Bell the Supreme Court said it was constitutional to forcibly sterilize citizens, this led to over 60,000 sterilizations all thanks to Oliver Wendell Holms.

 9. Sterilization was legal from 1924- 1976, even the Nazi's adopted our laws and sterilized over 350,000 people in 1933. The eugenics movement came to an end when it was found that Carrie Buck was misdiagnosed, her lawyer corrupt, her daughter a product of rape and grew up to be intelligent.

  

MLA corrections: 

Heading- Name, Class, and Date (left orientation)

Title should be centered and below heading 

Page number and last name should be in the upper right hand corner 

The lines should be double spaced. 

Characters should be in Times New Roman and 12 pt. font 

She misspelled (Rilly 69) in paragraph 7

Word count 512

Don't look at me when I'm talking to you

When I think of public speaking I think great! I love writing speeches! And then the day comes when I have to stand up in front of everyone and I feel like puking! I took a toast masters class in school to help improve my public speaking skills. I have to tell you that I really enjoyed this class. My biggest flaw is that I speed talk when I give speeches. I am talking fast.... the first time I gave a speech in my class I read my speech in four minutes... the speech was three pages long. So needless to say I don’t think anyone understood a thing I said, in fact they probably didn’t even know what my speech was about. I eventually became more comfortable and the speeches improved. I have had to give many speeches throughout my life, in school, support groups, parent committees, etc. I always have the same reaction... I am excited and then when its time I am mortified; panic stricken and want to find a way out. 

Last semester I registered for a public speaking class, I thought if my husband and I both took the class it would be easier and fun. It was time for our first speech; I had put together a very intelligent presentation with report cover and all. I was having so much fun with this speech that I even helped my husband with his. As we were walking to class the anxiety was in overdrive. I felt queasy, my knees were weak, heart racing, ears ringing, and I was flushed. In the end my husband went to class delivered a wonderful speech and I went to the counselor and dropped the class.  

In my college courses when there are discussions in the class room I am attending I have no trouble speaking, joining the discussion, and even arguing my point. When it comes time to hit the broadcast button I freeze up and don't say a word. I don’t understand why I do this, what am I so afraid of? So now I sit here taking online courses this semester, what is wrong with me?

Word Count: 369

here are some cakes

A fool's holiday

This holiday is a favorite amongst my family as it is a free pass to play pranks and no one can get mad. This year my husband encouraged me to make it a little more fun by doing extra special things. We thought of little things like for breakfast we made a breakfast sandwich that looked like a cheeseburger. For lunch the children scarfed down a pizza roll that looked like a glazed Bundt cake. Dinner the family delighted in a meatloaf cake shaped to look like a cake and topped with mashed potatoes resembling frosting and adorned with "cherry" tomatoes. Dessert was delicious cupcakes that were absolutely adorable looking like chicken drumsticks. 

As far as pranks go we try and come up with different and unexpected pranks each year. We have done the whole Oreo prank where you scrape out the filling and replace it with toothpaste. Which is horrible tasting for anyone who wants to try it, but it is quite funny to watch. This year my seven year old got me with the fake dog poop in my bathroom. My husband told me to go help our seven year old clean up his mess in their bathroom and even was getting upset with our son over it. We walked in there to find the entire toilet seat, and in the toilet covered in lumpy chocolate frosting. It took a double take to realize it was frosting and calm my stomach down. My fifteen year old fell victim of April Fool’s when April 2nd rolled around and he was caught at school with a backpack full of Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus pictures. As you can see we love April Fool’s and it's a holiday to show what a fool you really are. Unfortunately there a victims of the fool! :)

One year I was determined to get my husband as he is not easily fooled. I tried pouring the powder of a kool aid package on him while he was taking a shower; unfortunately he was lathered in soap so it did not dye his skin as planned. My children have tried all the classics on him such as rubber banding the kitchen sprayer, saran wrapping the toilet seats, replacing his toothpaste with hemorrhoid cream. I thought I was pretty sneaky and was confident I would get succeed this year. I detached the cord for our fan in the toy room where the computer desk is. I reattached the cord to a cup filled with water and carefully placed it on the fan blade out of sight. I was so excited to see my little prank in action I followed him in there. After waiting fifteen minutes and trying to look like I had a purpose for being in there he stood up tom pull the cord. Instead of tipping on him it fell backwards and spilled all over me, just my luck. So I am back at square one and on the hunt for a prank that will finally avenge the many years of April Fool’s Day I have suffered.

I don’t know about anyone else but telling a story about you and not being able to use the word "I" was extremely difficult. How can I talk about myself without saying "I", I (lol) was constantly trying to figure out how to say a sentence omitting it. The faster I would type the more often I would use the word and have to go back and change it all.

Word Count: 584

You're my HERO!!!

Admire; to regard somebody or something with approval, appreciation, or respect.

Approve, respect, regard, to be in awe of, to marvel.

Where do I start?? There are so many people I admire all for different reasons. I sat and tried to think of one person I admire and I decided I would do the most important people, they all deserve to be recognized.

My husband definitely fits the description of admire. I have admiration for my husband because he has overcome adversity. Since the beginning of his life he had trials, he was born into an abusive, addiction ridden, and poverty stricken family. He was ridiculed his entire childhood and never had the opportunity to have a best friend. Life threw us a curveball a little over three years ago when my husband became disabled. He never quit, instead of giving up he found new passions in life. He is the most amazing father; each time I watch him with the children I am in awe of his love for them.

She is seventy two years old and I hope I am a tenth of what she is someday. Despite her chronological age, her physical age is forty five. She takes care of elderly in their home; cooking, cleaning, anything they may need from her. Losing her husband at the age of thirty six left her with six children to raise by herself, and a grandchild on the way. A highly influential person in my life that has shaped me into the person I am today; I dread the day that she will no longer be in my life the way I need her to be. She is my grandmother, and I say with pride that I am her granddaughter.

When you think of what a mother should be, a vision of my mother is what I see. Although she is flawed she is resilient. She became a mother when she was just fifteen years old and then gave birth to me at the age of eighteen. Despite the stigma of teen mothers, she set out to prove everyone wrong! She was what we call the Kool-Aid mom, snacks waiting for us when we got home, hime room mother, and our biggest advocate. I have learned to always go the extra mile from her; to do everything with your heart, and to cherish your children when they are little. Ten years ago she had a surgery that ended in the loss of her legs. She took it with stride and realized that there is a reason for this and it would not stop her from being who she was. She is amazing!

Last but certainly not least my father, my friend. Anyone who knows our family will certainly tell you I am my father’s daughter. I look like my father and have most of who I am a reflection of my dad. He is strong, brilliant, caring, generous, and stubborn. Although raised in a horrible home, he has been an incredible role model for me. I always held men to the standard of my father, what a man should be like. My husband has lived up to those expectations and more. I am eternally grateful to my father for setting the bar so that I did not settle for less than I deserved.

There are so many more people that I admire in life. I am not the type of person that admires people like Bill Gates, Donald Trump, or Oprah Winfrey. I admire those who stand up against the majority for what is right. The people that change the world through mores instead of money; people like Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, Barack Obama, Lt. Ehren Watada, Aung San Suu Kyi, Emmeline Pankhurst, Eleanor Roosevelt, Ester, Moses, Ahmad Batebi, Nelson Mandela, Susan B. Anthony, Harriet Tubman, and Jesus. These people have changed not only the lives of the people in their time but our lives and the future generation; creating the path for the next right fighters.

Word count:669

Cake Boss

One of my many activities that I enjoy (and like all of them I rarely find time to do) is cake decorating. I love to make cakes, cupcakes, cookies, etc. My favorite types of cakes to decorate are unique cakes, where there is no mold or design to go by. I have made cakes that look like buckets of popcorn, pizza, plates of spaghetti, and treasure chests. I made a giant nose cake for my sons "Gross" themed birthday party, complete with nose hairs and filled with green ooze. For Christmas I was fortunate enough to get the Cricut Cake machine *exciting*. Although I have yet to use it I longed for it for several years. This week I am making a tree trunk with mushrooms and fairies on it for my niece's first birthday. I love making cakes with uncommon flavor’s and fillings. My husband’s favorite is a cake I made him for his birthday one year and it was a mocha cake filled with alternating layers cappuccino mousse and mascarpone cheese. It is delicious but a little pricey to make for just any occasion. My sister in laws favorite cake I make is Cherry Limeade cupcakes, I think I am rambling quite a bit in this blog for some reason.  

Two years ago my husband put a ban on cake making for anyone other than our children, it only lasted a year thank goodness. I can understand his frustrations; between 15 birthdays a year, anniversaries, and weddings; I spent all year making cakes. I don't know if I would fill my spare time with cake decorating if I had extra time. There are so many things that I enjoy doing and rarely get to do, that it would be hard to choose. You would think that being a stay at home mom I would have tons of free time, it is the exact opposite unfortunately. My time is filled with sports, school, kids, cleaning, and cooking.  

I think if I had extra time to do anything I wanted it would be spent with my kids. But in a quality way, I am with my kids all day every day. Yet I feel like I never spend any time with them, I would like to spend individual time with each of them. I would like to take my sons on a date separately and have more tea parties with my daughter. This blog seems extremely unorganized and filled with random thoughts, oh well!

Word Count: 414

Reality is only a matter of perception

Even those of us who think we are not judgmental people I think are really only fooling ourselves. We just someone from the first sight, the first conversation, the first interaction, and often from what other people has said. The open minded people are the ones that allow those perceptions to be changed rather than holding true to their perceptions.

I remember starting a brand new job, I was about 19 yrs. old a mother and college student. There was another girl that started the same day as me. From the minute I saw her I thought to myself. "I am not going to like this girl, she looks like a total &*^@#." From what I could tell by the way she dressed, how she presented herself, and the look of don't approach me written all over her face.

Unfortunately we had no choice but to work side by side with each other. I dreaded the thought and hoped I wouldn’t suffer the wrath she seemingly wore in her demeanor. Within a week of working with her I quickly realized my perceptions were completely off, she was a wonderful person. I remember meeting her husband for the first time when I came over to her house for a barbecue and he asked how long we had known each other. Our reply was three weeks; he laughed and said he could have sworn we knew each other our entire lives.

That was how our friendship was from the first day, as we had been friends our whole lives. Stephanie has been my best friend for the last 14 years and I hope she will be my best friend for the next 14 years. If I hadn’t let my guard down and made an effort to get along with her I wouldn’t have her as my best friend today. In fact it turned out that she was so scared that first day she could barely function.  I am glad I didn’t allow my perception to cloud the reality.

Word Count: 336

Art Smart

The title is definitely indicative of me; when it comes to art I have no idea what I am talking about. I either like it or I don't, I admit I do not like some of the "great work of art. The image that kept drawing me back to it was the second painting. It seems to be mysterious, abandoned, yet once occupied. It holds a story of events that once took place there, parties thrown, heated arguments, maybe even nights of passion. This painting made me ask questions and let my imagination wander as to what was once in this room. The artist allowed me to make my own story instead of guessing what story was being told. I would rather let my mind run wild with possibilities than to struggle to find the meaning behind what the artist is portraying.

 I did not like painting 3, I have never been a fan of abstract art. Painting four was demonic and a little disturbing to me; I am not sure if it's a torture chamber or circus performer’s reunion. What is with the alien sculpture thrown in the mix? I think painting five seemed like a canvas photograph and not so much of a painting. Although the detail of the figures is simply stunning, it's not a bad thing that it could be mistaken for a photograph in my opinion. I have no idea why I did not like the sixth painting; I just did not like it. I felt like the colors did not flow in the last painting, as if their dresses and the balloons were originally a different color and someone painted over them to brighten up the painting. A little strange for my taste if you ask me and it’s my blog so in a sense I was asked. J After writing the last part I was looking at the paintings again and realized that the first and last painting are almost identical except the add colors and props, so it seems a little ironic to me that I had those thoughts about the colors being changed.

Word count: 352

Who has the time to read??

I rarely have the time to read anything other than lists, kids’ books, bills, and notes from teachers. Once in a while I will force myself to read a book with the urging of my mother. I am always glad I give into her constant nagging (with love) because I loved reading before I became a mother.

 The book I chose was one I read out of necessity but quickly realized I continued reading out of enjoyment. "Look Me in the Eye", By John Elder Robison is a must read for all ages and backgrounds. It is his memoir of dealing with Asperger's before a time of diagnosis let alone acceptance. It is about his personal struggles and insight into the mind of a brilliant child gifted with Asperger's.

 With the world so diverse and our lives increasingly intertwined it is impossible to not come in contact with a person of special needs. I believe this book will help those on the outside gain understanding into what life is really like for a person that is not deemed "normal" by society's standards. Most people are afraid of what they do not have knowledge of, reading this book will offer that knowledge to those that seek it. I wanted to share a passage from the book that I think clearly defines the mind of a child with Asperger’s.

At first, I was excited. As soon as I saw the other kids, I wanted to meet them. I wanted them to like me. But they didn't. I could not figure out why. What was wrong with me? I particularly wanted to make friends with a little girl named Chuckie. She seemed to like trucks and trains, just like me. I knew we must have a lot in common.

At recess, I walked over to Chuckie and patted her on the head. My mother had shown me how to pet my poodle on the head to make friends with him. And my mother petted me sometimes, too, especially when I couldn't sleep. So as far as I could tell, petting worked. All the dogs my mother told me to pet had wagged their tails. They liked it. I figured Chuckie would like it, too.

Smack! She hit me!

Startled, I ran away. That didn't work, I said to myself. Maybe I have to pet her a little longer to make friends. I can pet her with a stick so she can't smack me. But the teacher intervened. 

"John, leave Chuckie alone. We don't hit people with sticks."

 "I wasn't hitting her. I was trying to pet her." 

"People aren't dogs. You don't pet them. And you don't use sticks." 

Chuckie eyed me warily. She stayed away for the rest of the day. But I didn't give up. Maybe she likes me and doesn't know it, I thought. My mother often told me I would like things I thought I wouldn't, and sometimes she was right. 

The next day, I saw Chuckie playing in the big sandbox with a wooden truck. I knew a lot about trucks. And I knew she wasn't playing with her truck correctly. I would show her the right way. She will admire me and we will be friends, I thought. I walked over to her and took the truck away and sat down.

 "Miss Laird! John took my truck!" 

That was fast! 

"I did not! I was showing her how to play with it! She was doing it wrong!" But Miss Laird believed Chuckie, not me. She led me away and gave me a truck of my own. Chuckie didn't follow. But tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow, I would succeed in making friends.

 Word Count: 614

What day is it?

I often have to ask myself that very question. As a stay at home mom you can often find yourself floating from one day to the next without knowing the sun has gone down and rose again. I have so many routine intertactions in my life as we NEED routine and structure in our home to make it manageable especially with the many disabilities we have in our family. I decided to pick making a menu, which is something "list" people will understand.

1. Start on Wednesday the new grocery ads are released, this will help you to plan a menu on a budget.
2. Gather materials needed, notebook, pens, grocery ads, calendar, cook books, etc.
3. Go through your freezers and make a list of any meats you may already have.
4. Browse the grocery ads for the meats on sale that week.
5. I make a menu with four meals based on the meat on sale, one fish and two meats from my freezer.
6. In the notebook write down each day of the week starting with the day you will do your grocery shopping.
7. Browse cookbooks, magazines, online recipes, recipe cards, or any family favorite that can incorporate the meats you have chosen.
8. Write down a dinner for each day of the week.
9. Fill in lunch menu by using as many items you know will produce leftovers.
10. Write in breakfast and remaining lunch meals
11. On a separate piece of paper make the following columns in order: Meat
Cheese, Canned goods, Frozen, Dairy, Produce, Bread, Misc.
12. Starting with the first day write down every ingredient need for each meal in the appropriate section. Continue through to the last day.
13. Go through your cupboards and pantry so you can cross off each ingredient you already have available
14. Look for regular staples you may need to replace that are not already on your list; milk, bread, eggs, toilet paper, etc.
15. Add those items on your list
16. Ask your family if they need any personal items replenished and add those items to your list.
17. Rewrite your list in the same order so that it is neat again
18. Write your menu on your calendar, I have a menu board that I write on so the kids can see it and I dont have to answer what is for dinner each night 11x.
19.On Saturday we order Bountiful Baskets, after I pick them up I cross off any fruit or vegetables I received that were on my list. I often am able to swap items on the menu so that I do not have to purchase it.
20. You are now ready to venture to the grocery store, make sure to shop in the order of your list.

Word Count: 467

Poetry is just not my thing

I thought the poem "When we two departed" By Lord Byron was intriguing. The poem was left open for so many different interpretations much like a painting. I think it was about the death of his mistress.In the verse
 " A shudder comes o'er me
 Why wert thou so dear?
 They know not I knew thee,
 Who knew thee too well:"
I intrepreted it as he was at the funeral of his mistress and everyone was trying to figure out who he was and why he was so distraught over her death. It then goes on to say "Long, long shall I rue thee, too deeply to tell", this is suggestive that he has wronged her in some way. Maybe he kept her illness a secret from him, or he found out that he was not the only man in her life.
The last verse makes you think that she didn't die and that she chose her marriage over him.
"In secret we met
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears"
If you read the first verse it sounds like a first love that ended, and he would think about her for the rest of his life. When they see each other again those old feelings emerge and he was never able to fully move on. He loved her his whole life even though they both moved forward in their lives and married other people.
"When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this."
That's what I love about this poem, even though you don't know exactly what it is about you do know that it is of heart ache. I beleive we can all relate to the grief you feel when a relationship has ended.
Word Count : 329

Trying to hide any redneck roots

1. Silent as a fart in church (In all honesty my fifteen year old came up with that one)
2. Clean as a two year olds pudding cup
3. Hungry as a fat girl on a diet (Courtesy of my husband)
4. Pretty as a prize pig
5. Fit as an ethiopian chicken
6. Easy as distracting someone with ADD
7. Cold as your wife after insulting her mother (Don't do it if you don't want to see number 10)
8. Smooth as the Kirby Salesman (My name is Latrisha and I am a Kirby Owner)
9. Blind as Ray Charles scoring a boxing match
10. Strong as a pissed off woman

Word count: 115

Do we have to pay for these voice lessons?

1.) There's never anything to do on the weekends. I am sure no one will call me to do anything with them. And even if someone did call me it would probably be boring anyway. Even if I said yes I am sure the plans would get cancelled, people always cancel. You can never count on anyone these days. I guarantee it will be the same old weekend as usual.

2.) Oh... Oh... I am going to play with my friend Jeremiah. And guess what, he has every Skylanders figure ever! Guess what else, he has like fifty hundred movies. Oh.. oh... guess what else, we always get pizza. Oh wait oh wait I forgot to tell you something, this is important, he has a trampoline, and a plane we can fly.

3.) Arrggghh... me wantin to sail the seas lookin for me booty. Aye matey! While on land I gonna hornswaggle some landlubbers. Avast ye! gonna snatch me up a wench to fix me right up with some grog and doughboy.

4.)OK so like I was gonna go with my BFF DT, but then she had to go and run her mouth all about how I liked Joe and how I think his G/F is grimey, now he won't even talk to me. So we are DNF and I had to tell her dont get salty with me! Now she's acting all emo about it, whatever SML. BTW there is a party that is gonna be epic!

5.) My plans for the weekend.... Friday movie night with my family. Saturday if I am lucky sleeping in! Then it will be the usual Saturday morning chores, grocery shopping, running kids to friends, I am pretty sure there is an oil party I am supposed to attend that day?? Sunday will be breakfast with the family, church, couponing with my sister, more chores, homework, bathe the kids, read some books, then bedtime for the kiddos, and relax while catching up on my shows for the week. I am sure I will have to solve someone else's crisis along the way as well!



I am a mother!
I am relevant!

In the beginning....

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away..... Well not really but it feels like that! Naturally I was a superbly well behaved child with excellent manners and extreme respect for adults. My mother always received compliments on how well behaved we were. However my mother continues to tell the story of how I gave dirty looks since the day I was born. She often tells of how whenever my father was in the room I was a perfect Angel but as soon as he walked out my horns emerged and I breathed fire at my mother. I was a sweet child full of laughter and smiles. I have wonderful memories of childhood. Much like today though I was very argumentative. I always had an opinion, a theory, or even just wanted to be stubborn. I am still like that today in fact my mother recently posted a saying on Facebook that said “I am not arguing, simply proving that I am right". Below it she said “This sounds exactly like one of my children". Well everyone knew who that child was! I had a sense of humor just like my father’s and adults were genuinely drawn to me. I was carefree and adventurous, and I loved being outside.

word count: 211

Heebie-Jeebie's

    There are a million smells, tastes, etc. that I love and could write about forever. Like my love for fresh rose petals, the smell makes you feel loved. Freshly picked lilacs in my bathroom; elicits the feeling of sitting on the porch on a warm summer night. The taste of brown sugar reminds me of childhood; helping my mother pull out warm gooey caramel rolls made from scratch; out of the oven. Instead I am going to brave through and tell about something I hate! 

     It's a texture that for some reason; maybe it's my ADD as it can make you extremely sensitive to textures and touch that this particular item drives me insane. Each time I feel it I want to climb the walls to get away from it. So if you ever see me hanging from a chandelier you will know why.  

    To the average person it is beautiful and delicate. It makes you feel classy and sexy. For some it provides a sense of comfort. It comes in many forms, from many lands, and its worth is determined by such. It is nature's elegant art form provided for our pleasure.  

     The velvety existence that entices most of you is what also distains me. Simply writing about this texture sends goose bumps racing up my arms, tingling every last hair on my head, ending with a shiver. It is silk, the once fabric that determined people's wealth. It is not only the flowing smoothness of silk that sends my body into panic mode. It can simply be the sight of the glimmering, lustrous fabric that sets me off. The thought of its softness when you run it across your skin makes me cringe. I once read it described as "a gentle breeze or fresh stream of water." That "it naturally and instantly warms to the touch, yet breathes and lets air pass through." Well not to me! It is my arch nemesis. I hate you silk!

 word count: 328

Battle Wounds

Scars are nothing more than stories imprinted on your body. They are not to be ashamed of, hidden, consumed with. For they are marks left behind for proof of our survival!

 My first scar

      The palm of my right hand tells of a summer filled with laughter, love, and fun. I was three and a half years old and I had the privilege of spending several weeks during the summer with my "Grandma Linda", she was the mother of my mother's best friend. I had adopted her as my Grandma; don't get me wrong I have two wonderful grandmothers but she too held a special place in my heart. It was scorching out in Miles City, Montana we needed quick relief. Her daughter Sherry worked at a hotel with a pool so I went with her to "beat the heat". Swimming brings out the thirst in someone; Sherry had given me an apple juice. At that time all juice came in glass bottles, I eagerly tried opening the juice. My hands were slippery and the juice tumbled out of my hands and onto the concrete patio. Glass flew everywhere including right into the palm of my hand. I was fine until I saw how much blood was pouring out of my hand. I am sure that I probably needed stitches but back then you didn't go to the hospital unless you were dying. It has been almost thirty years and I still have the scar. 

My second scar

      I had just gotten a brand new pair of jeans that day; for me it was a big deal as we were on a pretty fixed income. I was fifteen years old and was in the bathroom doing my hair getting ready to go out with friends. It was later in the evening and my parents were already in bed so I tried to be as quiet as I could. All the lights in the house were off so I headed for the front door with excitement. To my surprise my sister had a giant guinea pig cage blocking the path to freedom. I tripped over the cage and felt a sharp pain on my left inner thigh. I hobbled back to the bathroom to assess the damage. My brand new pants were not only covered in blood but had a giant rip along the knee. The cage had ripped open my new jeans and massacred the side of my leg right above the knee. It looked as if someone had taken a potato peeler to my leg several times. I was more devastated that my new jeans were ruined than my leg.

My third scar 

     I have been struggling with my weight my entire life. When I was 27 a doctor finally discovered I had thyroid cancer. I had one of two options, radioactive iodine or surgery. I opted for surgery as the iodine would have meant I could no longer breastfeed my son. The doctor reassured me every visit that thyroid cancer was the type of cancer you hoped for, it was simply an annoying cancer. When he opened me up he uncovered a scene he was unprepared for. I had hundreds of nodes in my neck, wrapped around my vocal cords stuck to everything. My thyroid was like sticky gum splattered all over the inside of my neck. They were successful in removing almost all of it except a small portion by my vocal cords which was too risky to remove. After a day in the hospital I wanted to go home to recover. He would call us with the results. The next night he phoned me from his cell phone and said he had to call me on his way home to share the results with me. He said when he opened me up and saw it he almost fell to his knees. He was unsure of what he was going to tell my husband as he was unsure of what my outcome might be. He had only seen this far advanced cancer one other time in his life. While removing the nodes he told the surgery staff I can't believe this cancer! He said he would have bet over a million dollars that it was cancer. The results were negative not even a precancerous cell. He had never seen a thyroid like that, which was not cancerous. The scar on my neck is proof that the Lord had answered our prayers.        

My last scar

     My last scar was earned on December 17, 2006. It is not a scar you can see from the outside. This scar is deeper than any other scar seen. It will be there for the rest of my life, and I cannot have it removed. It is a scar given only to members of a hidden club. It is in my heart and has changed it forever. Although I wish I would never have been given it, I am proud to have it.

Word count: 830

Mutual Devotion....

      It was the summer of 1987 and I was escaping the heat in our nice cool basement. This is where I knew that there was something greater out there; a feeling I have never had before. It was the first time I knew the feeling of true love. As I sat there in awe of him I couldn't help but play out what our entire life would be like together. He was stunningly handsome, had hair like a God, and a stomach you could wash clothes on. What attracted me first was his slight "bad boy" persona; the temptation of a forbidden fruit. As I grew to understand him he was actually tender, kind, and fueled by passion. He could easily sweep any woman off her feet.  

     He was a dancer; I could watch him dance every moment of my life. He danced with desire, purpose, and hunger. The love he had for dance was immeasurable; he danced because it was in his soul. How does someone go about professing their love to a man this spectacular??? Would I even be his type? What would he say? What if he didn't feel the same way about me? Would he even care to hear what I had to say? The eagerness of wanting to tell him was eating me inside; I had to find the best way to tell him. To tell him in a way he had no choice but to sit and listen to me; I know I would write it in a love letter! For those who don't know what that is, it's a handwritten, spilling of your guts, take a leap and go for it note. A lost art these days! 

      Checking the mail each day in anticipation of his reply was pure torture! Finally there it was, a letter addressed to me from him! I was sick to my stomach holding it in my hands. I ran to my bedroom, plopped down on the bed and starred at the envelope. I didn't know if I should open it, I wanted to but what if he laughed at me and told me I was crazy? I had to open it I had went this far already; my hands were shaking so much I almost ripped the letter in half trying to open the envelope. So my answer sat right in front of me.... the letter read: 

Dear Latrisha,

    Thank you greatly for the letter you sent to me. No one has ever said to me kinder words than you wrote. Unfortunately at this time in my life I cannot enter into a relationship with you. I am so sorry but I am already married. I feel so honored that I have made such an impact in your life. There are also many circumstances that would prevent us from having any type of relationship other than a friendship.....blah blah!

     Tears streamed down my face, I was crying so hysterically that I couldn't breathe. How could I experience my first love and my first heartbreak in the same summer? How could he not love me as much as I loved him? I was devoted to this man; I would have died for him! Anything he had asked of me I would have done. I would never have left him, never have chosen anyone over him. Never let my father speak ill of him! So what if he lived 1800 miles or so away from me, I was willing to relocate. What did it matter that he was 34 and I was only 8, I looked past the age difference! I know we had never met in "real" life but I knew him so well. Eventually I grew up and got over the pain but he will always have a piece of my heart.  

       So yes I have had unrequited love, with Patrick Swayze.

 Word count: 644

 

English Blog 3

The question I chose was; respond to; literature's moral value is determined by the "character of the person writing it and his skill in writing and the character of the person reading it and his skill in reading."
I agree with his Orson Card's view on this; we can only write what we can relate to in some way. It's impossible to write about the pain of heart break and make it believable if we have never experienced heart break and felt it was painful. Writing is painting a picture with words; for many unskilled persons of fine art we look at a painting and think "what the heck is that" Where others that are knowledgeable simply look at it and can feel the artists emotions and intent. Romeo and Juliet is one of the most well known playwrights of a love story. However it is filled with evil and the main characters die. Some may see it as violent and horrific, yet over time it has been explained to us so many times we see past that and feel the love between Romeo and Juliet; because we have become skilled in it. To some hard rock is a bunch of screaming and ear piercing noise (ME), where others know the story inside the lyrics and can relate to the song.



How does a work reflect the character and skill of both the writer and reader?
A work is a piece of the writer, a small glimpse of their soul. It shows their imagination, sensitivity, intelligence, and their talent. Most often there is a character that reflects the author. Readers often find a character in a work that they can relate to, they understand them and feel as if they are experiencing everything right along with them. Sometimes the character is good sometimes it may be evil. The point of fiction is to have conflict, with out conflict their is no victory.

Word count:322

English Blog 2

My entire adolescence and into early adulthood I kept a diary. I would feel guilty when it had been days since my last entry; however once I married I stopped writing. I am not sure if I stopped because I was in fear he would find it and read it, because I never had the time, I no longer had exciting and juicy secret adventures in my life, or simply that I now had someone to share everything with. Growing up I was a total book nerd, I wanted books for my birthday, Christmas, and my favorite time of year was the book fair. We also had the very exciting bookmobile; I know some of you may be too young for that. Once I became a mother of more than two children my reading experiences have been limited to cook books, magazines, newspapers, and the vast amount of children's books we have accumulated. "Kiss me I'm Perfect" counts as reading doesn't it; especially if I have read it 300 times?

Growing up I had a secret hatred for English, don't get me wrong there were aspects in which I craved for more of. For instance spelling; I was a three time State Spelling Bee Champion; I despise when others use incorrect grammar and I loved writing essays and poetry. My enemy was conjunctions, prepositions, interjections, and whether to use a comma, colon, or semicolon. To me it was as useless as Algebra is to everyday life now. Amazingly I always earned an A in English! My English teachers were unlike any other teachers, they were always kind, patient, and had a love for teaching that flowed from every pore of their being. They had such a softness about that them that set them apart from other instructors. My civics teacher locked us out of the room if we were late and taught by fear and intimidation.

I think the first time I really enjoyed writing was when one of my 8th grade English teachers submitted a Haiku I had written to be published. From then on I had many writings published, my greatest accomplishment was being published in "Who's Who among American High School Students", I actually earned a scholarship from that essay.

word count:373

English Blog 1

Let me start by introducing myself. I am 32 years old (but don't really feel that old today). I have been married about 11 years. I have four sons ages 15, 10,7, and one that celebrates in Heaven and he would be 5; I also have a daughter that is almost three. I moved to Vernal roughly eight years ago from Colorado and honestly I hate the weather here. Although I love the small town for my children I think Utah is a desolate, dry, waste of space. I miss the culture, climate, landscape, and variety of activities in Colorado. But I am here to stay for good, because my son is buried here.

I am in college because I am a nerd, I love school. I like to learn, honestly I just like receiving A's. I am going to college so I can be something when I grow up. Mostly an example for my children; how can I demand a college education if I never finished mine. About three and a half years ago my husband suffered a disabling injury, this changed the course of our lives forever. At the time I had just started a new job working at Head Start and I loved it. He since enrolled in College through the Voc Rehab program and let's tell the truth I was jealous of him. After two years of working at Head Start I had developed a love/hate relationship there and decided to go through the Voc Rehab program and see if I could qualify to be sent to college. Here I am a year later and in my second year of college. Yea for me I have something wrong enough with me for Voc Rehab to help me!

I am majoring in Social Work and hope to receive my Master's Degree. Although I want to take a different approach than the standard fix it and file it approach our system has today. I want to prevent problems; I want to create a program that will help troubled teens before they enter the system, to help teen mothers before they become statistics, I want to help them build a future before they change it forever.


Word Count: 367