Dear Writing Group,

I promise to come back and write you a sweet note detailing my appreciation for you. But, it is Monday morning, and school starts in fifteen minutes, and I am still at home. My apologies.

Sincerely,

Jenny Gorman

up late, once again

I did not mean to stay up until 3 a.m. It just happened. I spent most of my weekend working on homework, with only couple of hours devoted to things like work, church, and the middle school play (which was absolutely fantastic, by the way). I don't know what gave me the strength to stay up so late. Perhaps it was my drive to get an "A"? I really want one, and I had worked so hard up to this point that I was going to let just one more night of sleep get in the way. I guess I knew this would happen when I decided to completely rewrite my personal narrative from scratch. I'm surprised I actually got the narrative written in one weekend. If this class has taught me one thing, it is to stay up late and not the sleep get in the way of getting things done. Great lesson, eh?

My dearest Leyen, this is quite possibly the hardest, most frustrating thing I have ever attempted to do. I can write no more, for fear of going insane. Please excuse my short blog entry tonight, but this literally just took me ten minutes to type out. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGG!!!

"Follow the Leader, the Leader, the Leader..."

CELEBRATE! I have a lead and intro. Yes, I am devoting a whole blog to my blissful feeling of accomplishing the fist part of my film critique. Perhaps this because I am procrastinating the rest of it (at least it's not facebook...right?). But really, these are the first sentences of non-crap I have written in all my attempts to write about this awful movie.

Along those lines, this movie isn't actually as bad as I originally thought. The thing is, it is not entertaining, it is not fun to watch, and it is certainly not fun to think about. But those things aren't what make a film great, or even good. Those things make money. Revolutionary Road is more art than a story. If you can get past all the disturbing-ness (good luck with that...), this movie does have some redeemable qualities. They just don't involve special effects or a happy ending.

Today In Class

Today in class, we had two U of M representatives from the writing department come and get our feedback. I did not really like this, especially today. We had work to do: meet in our writing groups, discuss the film critique, and ask questions. I feel like we basically wasted half the time talking about things that wouldn't benefit us when there was work to be done. Our biggest problem in this class is obviously time, and this did not help. I understand the need to get our reactions and feedback. Why couldn't they come a different day? One that wasn't so crucial to our agenda? Or, they could have just had us write a cover-letter for the class. We're all amazing writers now, and I'm sure they're great readers. We had good discussions, found many consensuses, and debated some of the finer points of this class (blogging, reading). I just think it should have been at a different time.

The Fountainhead

Today, I was surprised. Indeed, I was amazed. I came upon a status that quoted a book I recently read, The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand. I was astonished at who quoted one of my recently favorite books. It was not one of my fellow geek/nerds who I can talk to about literature all day. It was not a teacher, parent, or professor. It was one of those girls that you would never even expect to pick up a book, much less a 900 page, tiny print book with challenging vocabulary, sentences, and themes. You know, the party hard, school-doesn't-matter type? I am sad to say that I judged this young woman in the worst possible way. I could not help but comment, and we proceeded to have a quite in depth conversation about the book. I have learned to not judge people based on the appearance of who they might be. I have a complete newfound respect for my classmate.

p.s. Go read The Fountainhead. It is worth the time. It will blow your mind.

"I Want to be Where Your Barefoot Walks"

I want to be where your bare foot walks;
I want to be where your bare foot walks,
Because maybe before you step you'll look at the ground.
I want that blessing.
I open and fill; I fill with love and all other objects evaporate.
All the learning in books stays put on the shelf.
Poetry, the dear words, images of song,
Comes down over me like water.

This is how I would die;
Into the love I have for you; the love I have for you.

As pieces of cloud dissolve in sunlight
This is how I would die
Into the love I have for you

-Rumi

Thanks to Jessica for reminding me to do this assignment and for letting me copy-paste this poem into my post.

Our weekend assignment for choir is to write a one-page (single space-hah!) reaction on what this poem means to us. Apparently, as a high school choir, we don't spend enough time on the lyrics of the songs we sing. Therefore, our director would like to hear our 16-18 year old thoughts on love. Maybe he's going through a crisis or something, and would like to subject himself to 80 pages of that. Yes, I am being a little bit harsh on us high schoolers; of course we have important, meaningful things to say about love. Knowing our choir, we will probably come up with amazing things to write about. It's really not that bad of an assignment. I'm just annoyed that we have to do it, because I am sick of writing (me saying this, as I sit here writing, oh the irony). I think I'm going to go to bed before I talk/write myself into an atrocious mood.

Gross

I just sat through a two hour movie, and now I have to write a three page paper about it, joy. Maybe I should have just done something where I already knew the ending. I can't say I really enjoyed "Revolutionary Road." It was barely entertaining. It was dark, depressing, and overall just kind of sick. It grossed me out, and not just the twisted ending. Why would someone want to make a movie about this? And why would an actor/actress want to play one of these characters? And why would an 18 year old living in the 21 century find this movie appealing at all? Could someone please answer these questions for me?

Unfortunately, the world, aka Hollywood (which basically runs the world), has already informed me that this movie is amazing and so is the acting. Now, I have the job of figuring out exactly why they would think such a thing. Do you have to play a crazy person to be good at acting? Apparently. Ugh. I'm still grossed out.

Somehow, I will have to find a way to put away my biases and focus on the pure literary, dramatic, and cinematic elements of this movie. Sweet.

"I Wanna Be Sedated"

"Twenty four, Twenty four hours to go, I wanna be sedated"

Well actually, I have about three hours left before I hit my wall. I need to:

-write a conclusion

-tie up my loose ends

-add a bit more about characters

-make sure my focus is present

-put the dang staple in

"Nothing to do and no where to go-o-o..."

No wait, that doesn't work.

"So much to do and so little ti-i-ime, I wanna be sedated"

High School (senioritis?)

I have very conflicted feelings about highs school at the moment. I think there should be Senior Seminars, or something, for us to talk to fellow seniors about all senior-related things (advisement doesn't count). There are just so many things we have to think about right now.

On one hand, I am very excited to be at high school among my peers after my one year hiatus from high school (PSEO, of course). All the good little moments in school, even some of the actual school work we have to do, remind me of how wonderful it is to be in high school, surrounded by people who are in the exact same boat as you are. I seriously get choked up thinking about it, sometimes...

On the other hand, I am sick, sick, sick of high school. Everything from rude people in the cafeteria, to the rude people on prom committee, to the catty girls on the volleyball team, to the freshmen who think they're all that, to the...etc. You know what I mean? I just want to get out of here. College seems so much better, especially if you find something special like a soccer team or sorority or society. No stupid 14 year olds standing still in the hallway, or watchful administration that feels the need to know exactly where you are at all times during the day. A pass? Really? I feel like we're past that now...

Bah humbug. 76 more days guys.

Prom Committee

Today, I went to the Prom Committee meeting and silently laughed inside for a good half hour. I expected to find a group of girls talking valley-girl style about prom-related activities. I also expected that only one clique would most likely be involved. You know, those girls who don't really have a purpose in the high school social structure besides to socialize? You know who I'm talking about. I didn't feel like this group would be a good representation of our school. Instead, I found something much, much worse.

I walked into the North Lecture Hall, slightly apprehensive about who was going to be there, because I knew that none of my friends were on the committee. About 40 students showed up, mostly seniors, but some juniors. There was definitely more than one group of people represented, but not in the way I thought would be best. Sure, the girls-who-don't-do-anything were there, and I was surprised to see a couple guys there, including our homecoming king. There was also a large representation of the large African-American population we have here at CP. In these kinds of terms, the representation was just fine. The problem came with the type or the character of the people there.

For almost 40 minutes, people screamed and yelled at each other. The discussion topic was the theme for prom. Everyone had an opinion to share. And shared they did, at the top of their lungs. To try and get people to settle down, students yelled "BE QUIET! SHUT UP! STOP TALKING!" Others whistled loudly. The level of rudeness in the room was despicable and in no way a proper representation of the students of Champlin Park High School. I was quite appalled at the ridiculousness of the situation. I can't really change anything, so this ranting may be pointless, but I really just wanted you guys to know about my experience today.

One o' Clock

This is my new target bedtime. 15 minutes to go? I think I can do this. My freakout level has gone down from verge-of-nervous-breakdown to it's-one-o-clock-in-the-morning-I-don't-care. Not really, but close. I think the weather helps. And the fact that I got to work out today. As I started on my eighth page, I realized that I still had at least three full pages of information to type up. So, I decided to put that on hold and ask my little writing group what they think about it. All of this information is interesting, in my opinion, but is it necessary? We shall see...

School
Homework
Eat

School
Homework
Eat
Sleep

Repeat...

Let's do it, folks!

Fog

I hate fog. Scares me to death. There is something about driving home late at night, not being able to see more than 20 feet in front of you, that freaks me out. I get the chills just writing about this.

My first experience very negative experience with fog came only months after getting my drivers license. I was on 109th, before they put more lights in, on my way home from a friend's house. The field to my right was all but pushing the dense fog in front of my tiny little car. My headlights were reflecting off the water droplets just five feet in front of me. I couldn't see a thing. I tried turning my lights off, like I had seen other people do. I was pitched into total darkness. I gave a little scream and quickly corrected my mistake. The grey wall pressed in around me. I felt like one wrong move and I would disappear and float away with the fog.

It is unnerving to completely lose your sense of direction and motion, both of which are based off the objects around you. When these are gone, you are left with the occasional yellow line on the road in front of you. My knuckles gripped the cool wheel, my muscles were tense, and my eyes jerked around, searching for signs of danger. My basic survival instinct roared at full power. I wanted so badly to pull off the road and call my parents to come get me. It took all my mental strength to will myself put down my clutch and shift into the gear that would take me home.

p.s. Could this be a possible personal narrative topic? I really need to rewrite mine. Your thoughts, please.

Freakout.

I am currently freaking out. How on earth am I going to put 22 pages of notes together? How am I going to make 10 pages flow? How am I going to do this in one measly day, much less afternoon? Where am I going to find time to revise and edit this whole thing this week? Will I get any sleep? As much as I plan ahead, I cannot see this week going smoothly. At all. I know we've spent class time preparing, but nothing can really prepare you for writing a 10 page paper in one week. No way, 'cause sorry, but I don't exactly have a whole weekend to devote to writing. All I have time to do is work, sleep, and go to church. Not to mention the calculus worksheets I don't understand, or the personal narrative I need to rewrite. I shall resign myself to another week of no sleep. Yippy Skippy. Two and a half weeks until this torture is over? THANK GOODNESS!

Finding my Focus

I expected to go into a house of 40 girls and find tons of drama. From my experiences in high school, I know that when you get any number of girls together for a certain amount of time, in a specific place, stuff happens. This was probably my strongest pre-ob bias. It was also the most untrue characteristic of the women of AXO. From what I could tell in the short time I was there, there are no incongruities, contradictions, or controversies. I tried very hard to find such things. I dug as deep as I could in my interviews, but nothing came up. The closest thing I could find was a few rivalries with other sororities. I don't have some big, exciting piece of dirt. While this may seem like an inconvenience, I think it actually provides the heart of my paper. This amazing group of women defy the drama-odds. There are bound to be little juicy stories here and there, but they are so inconsequential compared to what the group is as a whole, that I could not discover them. Given more time, perhaps, but "it is what it is," as Ms. Mork would say.

First Contact Story

So I actually kind of did this already, but in notes/observation form. It helps me organize my thoughts better than narrative style. I hope you can follow!

Sent mass email to all sororities' presidents at the U
Received a reply from Brette, President of Alpha Chi Omega
Worked out details, got address, drove down to the U
Found the AXO house on the corner of University and 4th St SE
Walked up, rang the doorbell
Answered, explained who I was
Greeted in living room, chatted a bit, started taking notes
Brette, my cultural broker, came down, gave me a quick tour
Went back down to chill before dinner
Ate dinner, was nervous about proper etiquette
Everyone was welcoming and nice, answered questions if asked
Mostly kept distance, didn't ask me questions
Did ask about what I'm doing, my high school, and college plans
Talked for awhile after dinner while Brette was out
First impression was, "wow, what a normal group"
Had some questions about certain Greek things
Was excited to get to know them more
Knew there was more to learn

No More AXO

So today was my last visit to Alpha Chi Omega (AXO). This makes me very sad. Although I was not an official member of the U of M sorority, from the moment I walked in, I felt welcomed. The AXO girls are something special, and I have learned a couple life lessons just in the short time I spent with them. I won't share them here, I'll save that for the actual paper, but I felt I needed to say that not only did I get to study a culture, I learned from them. These aren't your typical "legally blonde" sorority girls. These young women have their stuff together. They are a family like no other. I am actually very jealous of their amazing bonds. If I weren't going to Florida, I would definitely join a sorority, whether AXO at the U, or different one at UT. This was a very special group, and I am very excited to write about the sisters of Alpha Chi Omega.

Young at Heart

This video was exactly the mid-morning pick-me-up I needed (Needless to say, I would take a caramel latte if available). My day would have seriously sucked without the hilarious movie/ethnography we watched today. I could not help but laugh at the things the "grandparents" said. Eileen was my favorite. I cannot believe a 92 year old would talk like that! I guess I'm just used to the old church ladies. It was amazing to see how much the choir meant to the grandparents. It helped their social, emotional, spiritual, and physical health. This is like their family. It's kind of like high school. There are different types of people, but really, everyone is in the same boat. They can talk about their journey, even if they led a completely different life from the others. They can relate to stiff joints, nonworking body parts, and general grandparent stuff. This video reassured me of the value in every single individual at every single point in their life. When people come together, they can do amazing things.

Live From Haiti

At approximately 12:30 a.m. last night, Sheri and I were putting the final touches on our paper. While we were waiting for it to print out, we decided to click on the "Next Blog" button at the top of the blogger site. The first site that came up was a lovely blog on the Johnson family, pictures and all. We thought that would be quite awkward to share your whole family story with the world. Not wanting to creep on this random family, we clicked the "Next Blog" button again. Up comes the blog "Live From Haiti." We lost it. After spending hours upon hours researching and writing about Haiti, this was just too much. Who would've thought? This blog originally started as an account detailing the writer's trip to Haiti. They continued it with the latest news or describing history from Haiti. Some of the blogs were exactly the information we found elsewhere, all compiled into an easy to read format. We thought this was quite ironic, given that our research paper is about Haiti. Looking back and writing about this situation this morning, it does not seem as funny as it did last night. It's amazing what hours spent together with one person can do to one tiny little situation. A pure coincidence becomes absolutely hilarious.

Personal Narrative #2

So basically, I messed up my personal narrative. Instead of writing about a singular event with a very definite climax, I told a story over a long period of time. This involved mostly internal thoughts and very little dialogue. (By the way, I just corrected a misuse of a comma in my last sentence. I think I'm starting to get this editing thing). While my paper was "very clean" in terms of criteria #4, editing and such, my paper lacked development of the story. This is probably the worst I have ever done on a writing assignment, but that doesn't mean I am going to go cry about it. I am determined to learn from my mistakes. Now that I know how a personal narrative should be written, I can do this right. I kind of need a whole new story, though. I tried unsuccessfully to narrow my current story down. This seems like a lot of work, but I think it will be much easier now that I am familiar with the process. I sure hope our research paper goes better! (It will).

A Different Kind Of Ice Queen

She sits there silent. Not a word escapes her frail mouth. Her appearance whispers with a menacing intensity, "I do not care what you think." The world does not even pause to notice her anymore. It stops briefly, but she pushes it on its way. She coolly evaluates her surroundings; they are of no importance to her. She is an ice queen, indifferent to those who would melt the barrier she works so hard to keep.

Her hunched shoulders reveal otherwise. She is not the queen every young girl strives to be. She walks stooped over, as tho walked on too many times before. She suffers from some invisible force, never quite taking over, but enough to keep her in the shadows.

Then, she opens a book.

To Be Continued...