Confidently Dreaming

Kids Boycott The Darndest Things!

2011-03-12T13:52:00.005-06:00

If you know me, you most likely know that I love the chilluns. This wasn't always the case. I think I actually used to fear them a lot. The more I've worked with them over the years, the more I've learned about how they learn, how they see the world, and how justified my fears of them were. My basic advice: never underestimate a 5-year old. NEVER!

Okay, so I'm exaggerating a wee bit. Kids are actually pretty great and sometimes innocent. At the same time they're also much smarter and more powerful than we think. Talking to a kindergartner is a humbling and challenging thing. They catch everything you say, which means you have to be extra cautious about how you answer. For example. One little boy in the kindergarten class I work with called a girl bossy. Let's be honest... the girl WAS a total control freak. She was pretty upset though. I told the boy not to call someone bossy, no matter how bossy they were because calling people names makes you mean too. Yeah, yeah. Get all judgy. Clearly I was not already a pro with kids at the time, and I'm definitely still learning. You can guess what happened though... The smart little bugger twisted my words and told the girl, "Miss Rachel says I can't call you bossy even though you are." Don't worry. I corrected my misdeed, and he figured out that I meant always be nice even if you feel as though someone else has mistreated you. (When all else fails, refer to the Golden Rule. It would've saved me a LOT of embarrassment and trouble had I remembered the proper phrasing at the time.)

The fear of kids definitely went up after that experience.

The thing that scares me most is how much brilliance and profundity can fit into such compact-sized versions of humans. I mean, *what* ARE they? They're totally the little blue Priuses of the human world. This would also explain how they never run out of energy... they're fuel efficient! Just one Tang, and they can do 30 mpg on a standard highway at even the highest of speeds, if you catch my drift.. my Tokyo Drift (As in Fast & The Furious II). Duh-duh-chin! Moving on...

Another example of power run amuck in little ones happened when I was working with a 1st grade class. A little boy wrote a nice get well card to a boy that'd had the flu for some 2 weeks. It roughly went as follows, "Dear Name of Boy Which Now Slips Rachel's Mind, I hope you feel better sometime (not SOON as most people would say). You are a great kid and also pretty cool. I am Nicholas!" First of all, take time to appreciate the fact that he signed like a Roman emperor. No last name. No distracting, falsely sentimental closing words. He got to the point, expressed his own significance, and added a PUNCH to close the letter. All with three words. It made me think... What happened to my bold, unhampered wiles and wills? I WAS Rachel! And that directness got me into troubles at times. But it was real. It was honest. This just proves that we have much to learn from even youngins... We can especially see what we were like once and how simple it would be to be that radical again.

The primest thing of all happened in class the day after MLK Jr. Day though. The little 5-year olds were watching a documentary about Martin Luther King Jr.'s life. At the portion of the film that discussed the boycotting of the buses, the teacher paused the video. She explained what it was and told them what a picket sign was. Then they of course started talking again, and the teacher got distracted by paperwork and the random kids that always ask to go to the bathroom even though clearly it's allowed. Then something I never would have expected happened. I thought they got nothing out of the movie. I doubted I would have understood the significance of boycotting when I was a wee one. Buuut...

Raine, the littlest of the littles, pounded her fists rhythmically on her desk and bellowed, "Un-pause it! Un-pause it! Un-pause it!" in time with the banging. Soon other small, yet gutsy voices joined in the "protest." More and more children began pounding the tables. Then they began following her lead as she stood, continuing to shout her demands. She then began lifting her arms up and down, pretending to be holding a sign with words demanding justice. Others followed suit, and soon the entire class was at the front of the classroom walking in a circle, shouting their desires and raising their imaginary picket signs. It was in that moment I realized that a person's a person, no matter how small. No matter how young. We all have something to stay. We all can be powerful. Yet somehow between 5 and 19 I lost my ability to grasp things quickly, listen, and express what I thought in the moment, mostly due to fear. I lost the idea that it was okay to challenge others and to lead others even at the risk of their judgment. Man, I want to be 5 again. Even though the teacher had no idea what the kids were exclaiming, they were saying *something*... something they believed. Yeah, this seems a little bit hyperbolic, but it really did change my perception of kids forever. They grasp things we don't and see things we won't. There will never stop being a need for their lessons, no matter how old or wise we allegedly become. Be bold like a 5-year old, people. Listen and react. Don't buy everything you hear, and challenge the things that seem wrong because they just might be. Wellll, that's that.

Homework CAN Be Cool

2011-01-19T10:21:00.003-06:00

The following is an assignment I completed for my Mass Media & Society class. I had to make an autobiography/memo-schmemo thaaang. It's written in 3rd person because it had to be. I hope you can dig it. Heeeere goes:

BRIEFING MEMO Rachel Wilder

BORN: March 10, 1992

SUMMARY: full-time student at Belmont University, majoring in Religion and the Arts, creative force to be reckoned with, sarcasm enthusiast, concussionist, and klutz.

QUOTE: “I dig music.”

DETAILS: Born a whopping 8 lbs. 11 oz., Rachel always felt she had a lot to give the world. Her parents, 2 sisters, and even she realized from the get-go that she was different. When adults asked her questions, she knew the proper polite response, but instead, she offered an honest one. At the age of 2 her pediatrician asked her older sisters and her if they liked his brand new shirt. The oldest said, “Oh, yes. You look very handsome.” The second said, “That is a great shirt.” Rachel said, “That shirt does nothing for you.”

That same year the Wilders packed up and moved to Miami (most likely a decision unrelated to the “doctor incident”), and shortly thereafter Rachel began to attend pre-school. She quickly developed an affinity for animals of any kind, but especially dogs—Rottweilers to be exact. For one assignment, all of the students needed to color in an image the teacher prepared of a dog on construction paper. Though Rachel did not color in the lines in most areas of her life, she took this matter seriously, modeling her dog after an actual dog breed, despite the looming peer pressure to make a “pink retriever.” Her interest in art did not stop there. For Mother’s Day all the children were supposed to make painted clay pins for their mothers; they were allowed to make a flower or a heart. Rachel, however, decided to make a Flubber pin as her new favorite movie had just come out. Her mother couldn’t have been more proud, and her mother’s shirt couldn’t have been more ripped due to the density of the artwork. Needless to say, it was a source of pride that never left the home.

At the age of 6 her family once more went for the nomadic lifestyle, picking up and moving to Ft. Lauderdale. When asked to comment on her experience there Rachel said very little. After all, the family only lived there for 6 months.

Next was Orlando, the home of Disney World, which is the home of Mickey Mouse. While the Wilders agreed that it was a vibrant city, “it was also chock-full of confused tourists that lacked the capacity to simultaneously drive and read their Magic Kingdom maps.” Rachel made some of her best friends there. She continued to feel “different” from her classmates though. This was evident when her class studied the endangered animals list. There seemed to be about 6 panda projects, 5 koala projects, and 5 leopard projects. She found this boring and redundant, so she chose the smelliest animal in the world, the Tasmanian Devil and suggested the Komodo Dragon for others.

At the age of 15, her sisters had both gone off to college. Her parents and she moved yet again to the hustling and bustling Atlanta, or the quite accurately named “Hotlanta.” She attended high school, and it was there that she rediscovered her passion for arts, which were neglected at her previous school. For her portfolio she needed to develop a theme or concentration. Finally, a light bulb quite literally went off. Her choice of subject: light bulbs. Again, Rachel Wilder was not like other kids. She recalls telling her parents of her decision, “First they laughed for a while. Then they asked why. This didn’t upset me. I think that in some ways they expect me to do peculiar things by now, and they accept me all the same.”

The same year, after having visited her older sister Brooke at Belmont University multiple times in her high school career, she decided it was the place she wanted to be. She selected a Religion and the Arts major with a Spanish minor, so that she could combine 3 of her greatest passions. The only issue is that she is still deciding if one of them is art or writing. She does not know for sure what she would like to do later in life. “All I know is that I want to help people, especially children. I do not want this to be limited to children in the United States, so I’m trying to master my Spanish, another love of mine.” Rachel does have one specific goal for the future though; “One day… One day my artwork will hang on the sacred walls of Bongo Java.”

Think Of The Guppies!

2011-01-13T19:15:00.004-06:00

Not to ruin "The Little Mermaid" for everyone or anything, but the whole plot points to one major flaw-- the oceanic school systems. Clearly the school systems have failed Ariel and her fishy friends. The whole conflict of the movie rests in her not knowing how to write. Think it over... She obviously can't tell Prince Eric outright that she needs a little smooch-a-roo to spare her from an eternity of enslavement to Ursula. She can't even SPEAK. Things would be a whoooole lot simpler if she had learned how to write. It's really not that unobtainable of a goal, now is it? NASA even so generously invented those pens that write under water, yet the stupid schools of fish aren't putting them to use in the classrooms. Many a young fish has been pointing his fin at his fellow decadent pupils-- prawny and gilly alike. Some blame the government (a.k.a. King Trident) or the school board. Other youthful fish have given up on school work altogether to pursue the party scene: visiting the local wet bars and sand bars, getting clam-baked till the tides change, and just plain sea-horsing around. Some fish choose to ignore this problem. But I say a storm of stupidity is a comin', so ye best hoist ye sails. And yes, I do mean YOU. If honest fish and people sniff hard enough, they'll naturally smell a rat... but most likely fish because they, by nature, are stanky. But you may ask, "Wait, do fish even have noses?".... (Oh, hey, Tangent!)

Yes. They do. Aaand HOW! Remember sharks, people. Remember sharks. This might sound sharking, but they can detect one drop of blood with as much as 94 liters of water present. Since fish don't technically breathe through their nostrils like we do, theirs are used solely for scent. I sound like I know this stuff naturally, right? Thanks. Actually I used info from a kids' educational website. Conclusion: even these big, bad boys o' the sea are not matriculating as much as they used to.

That was a dangerously long tangent, so I'll get back to the point. Something fishy is going on, and not just in the market down the street. The million dollar question is... to whom does the blame belong?!

To NASA of course! Obviously fish aren't as dextrous as humans. How can they be expected to HOLD a pen when they do not have fingers? AND all of this is expected to be possible under slippery, non-viscous water?! Get REAL.

I'm so tired of moms calling fish "brain food" when clearly they are illiterate fiends that will make us dumber simply by our eating them. We can't ignore this problem. We need to fix it.

If you're going to litter the ocean be sure to dump something that will help educate a carp or edify a tuna. Laptops. Novels you pretended to read in high school like The Old Man And The Sea. NASA's underwater pens WITH an underwater adhesive, so the fish can get a good grip while writing (No matter if it is permanent; better a literate fish that can't swim due to balance issues than one that can swim contentedly, full of ignorant bliss and a swim bladder.). You get the idea.

Up here on the land we say, "Think of the children!" Today, I urge you, "Think of the guppies!"

Totally Nuts! When Squirrels Go Bad... & Cause Nightmares (Part 1 of 2)

2010-01-29T22:54:00.001-06:00

I am not one for normalcy. My day-to-day life is weird enough being that I'm... special. Yes. That's what I'll call it. My dreams are no different. Let me share one dream in particular that really left an impression on me and that definitely takes the cake for "weirdest dream ever" (and doesn't share any with me, the person whose psyche invented it... RUDE!).

It started out like any normal Rachel dream. I was fighting off an alien invasion. Fortunately, I'm always prepared (Boy Scout style) with a laser gun (not Boy Scout style... I think.) in my dreams, so the war didn't take forever. I was just disappointed the little squid people with brain-filled helmets had to interrupt the homecoming festivities. After my championing of the evil space men, I accompanied my friend Kathryn to her house for a little celebration of the demise of ET's cousins. As always, she offered me some acorns. SUCH a delish treat, but unfortunately my consumption of them is limited to my dreams being that acorns are in fact poisonous. Being the clumsy person I am (the only realistic aspect of this dream), I accidentally drop an acorn down my shirt. No big deal, right? WRONG. The acorn becomes multiple acorns, which proceed to shimmy their way into the back of my jeans as I try to dance them out of my shirt. Quite the little problem. I run to Kathryn's back yard to take off my pants and avoid being seen by anyone "lookin' like a fool with [my] pants on the ground." (I'm modest in real life, too, Hakuna Matata... It means 'no worries.') While doing this I spot two squirrels. At first I think nothing. Actually I did think, "Hey squirrels," but what I meant was that I thought nothing significant of the situation... until... I realized. I had acorns... in... my... PANTS. This could only mean one thing (no, I do not watch that show. It was the first thing that came up when I typed in "squirrel" on YouTube, and I was pleased because it was oddly fitting). The little monsters immediately caught trace of the scent and proceeded to stalk me, bellowing loudly, snarling, and gnashing their fangs. I immediately threw the nuts at them and ran for it whilst screaming like a girl (Okay, one more realistic part of the dream... I am a girl. And squirrels do like nuts.) I was very relieved... and very curious as to whether or not somebody had slipped something into my water bottle before I fell asleep... when I awoke the next morning and discovered that my pants were still on, free of acorns and free of squirrels.

This still was a rude awakening (pun-intended). I decided to search for reasons for this dream, and it didn't take me long. I quickly recalled the time a squirrel followed me to my front door at home. It began in a tree at the end of the driveway. Every time I continued walking away it would growl and make this weird chirping sound. I would turn around, and it would nonchalantly look side to side and freeze. The process continued until I got to the path to the front door, at which point I ran inside to escape the monster.

Yes, this is a long introduction, but I had to help you fully understand my hatred for squirrels. The real reason I'm writing this is to convince you that squirrels are nothing but evil conveniently wrapped in fur and sometimes rabies. Now, go on to Part Dos to learn why my dreams are not nearly as irrational as previously believed.

9 Reasons Why I Wish Squirrels Were Extinct (Part 2 of 2)

2010-01-29T22:15:00.000-06:00

Sadly, it takes quite a lot to wipe out an entire species. I am not a hunter, and I lack the ability to cause floods, so I feel like I'll be stuck with squirrelies for a while. Dang it. AND there are more than 365 varieties of squirrels. They are as inescapable as oxygen, but not nearly as pleasant (Just look at the actual photo). Here's why:

1) Because their stupid little eyes are high up and on the side of their heads, they are quite literally always watching. They are the ultimate peeping Toms, and what's worse-- unlike Tom, you can barely even see them when they hide in the trees outside your window!

2) Squirrels eat animal carcasses when nuts, berries, and Keebler cookies aren't readily available in the trees. I suspect foul play with the elves. Poor elves. So jolly... So DEAD!

3) Their teeth are meant for destruction and creating turmoil. They bite people, first of all, but they also bite power cables (most likely due to their small brain-size; see #4), which causes serious power outages. Oh, and just to top things off... the teeth never stop growing due to the "constant wear" on them from being cannibalistic vandals and whatnot. Vereh scareh.

4) They stupid! Their brains are the size of a walnut. (See #7) They think that by running back and forth across a street in zig-zag patterns they'll confuse/scare the car away. HA! "This is obliviously the squirrels biggest, and often last mistake."

5) Squirrels are wimps. Male squirrels groom themselves for TWICE the amount of time that the females do. Get some pedicures while you're at it, you pansies!

6) They're drunks! (And where was Squirrelly Jr. when that happened? Think of the CHILDREN, man! Think of the children!)

7) Or are they...? You might not think they're out to get us, but oh! Are they ever! I mean, have you SEEN that commercial? It consisted of an actual event that occurred "surprisingly" (*I'm* not surprised.) during the filming of a documentary called "Squirrels Suck. Alvin's Cooler."

8) They invade our homes! You've seen National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, I presume? Yeah. True story. Happened to a friend of mine once. And for a good month there were squirrels living in my attic, having shindigs every night, and making tons of noise. Was I even invited to the party in MY house? NO! That brings me to #9...

9) Squirrels are PURE EVIL! and just plain moochers/jerks.

For example: WATCH MEH!

Lastly I would like to give you a few simple reminders.

Remember: You can't feed them after midnight especially. They smell fear... and acorns in your pants. Don't run from them or even challenge them to a staring contest. It only provokes them. And the squirrel always wins. Just give them nuts and back away slowly. Try not to fear them now... Just try!

For more information go to http://www.squirrels.org/facts.html

The Highs And Lows Of Drugs

2009-10-26T21:54:00.000-05:00

Well, well, well. After all these years of being told that I shouldn't drink coffee, I find PROOF that it is actually *improving* my health. In yo face, Society! According to Dr. Tomas DePaulis, PhD (I know what you're thinking...PhD....Phalse Doctorate? Nope. He's the real deal.), my favorite java-licious giver of jitters "is far more healthful than it is harmful." Now fancy that! Oh, and please just take a moment to appreciate the fact that he does research in Vanderbilt University's Institute for Coffee Studies... Those EXIST? Hoo-hah! I know my dream job now. That is so much more appealing than that job as a Giver of Free Samples At The Local Grocery Store I had lined up! Anyway, back to the grandest news ever. A Cup O' Joe (or as I like to say, a Cup O' Joy) can actually help prevent Diabetes. That's a pretty sweet deal in itself, but it also lowers the risk you have of developing colon cancer. If your booty's happy, all of you is happy ©. (That's not actually copyrighted, but it should be.) Coffee can get rid of your headaches, help you breathe more easily, prevent cavities, and keep gallstones far from you. Man. It's Wonder Drug! I think I'm even going to buy a cape for my coffee mug. Oh, and lest you forget, it gives you lots of energy. I recommend you drink a latte of it, but not in excess. As Barry White says, "Too much of anything ain't good for you, baby." I hope I've converted you to a coffee-drinker, so that you can share in my excitement that I no longer must attend C.A. meetings.

Now for a less legal and definitely less-lovable drug. MARIJUANA. Yeah, yeah. I know. I have not partaken in illegal drug use, and we all know this (especially after I was randomly drug-tested at school... The results were negative even though I had been on an all poppy seed diet the entire 2 previous weeks leading up to it. Odd.) You might be asking yourself, "Self (or Frederick. It's all a matter of taste really.), why would she talk about an *illegal* drug? Is she advocating them? What does she even know about them since she's never tried anything BB ("bad butt" for those of you readers who are still unfamiliar with my jargon)?" Well, tell Frederick to shut up because he doesn't know what he's talking about (and go see a shrink because you probably shouldn't be talking to yourself or have pet names for the voices in your head). Pot sales are growing in states like California and Colorado where it is very often used in a medical form. There are seriously locations where they offer about 16 varieties of it. It's like Baskin Robins, minus the dairy, 15 other flavors, and legality! In L.A. alone there are 800 shops where you can get weed. At some of these locations you may find a lovely sitting area, a front desk with pots o' pot on display, and some coffee/tea that you can add "cannabis-infused honey tincture" to and get "more than just a caffeine buzz." You might even find cannabis-infused candy! Darn you, Mary J! You're stealing Coffee's thunder! But wait... That candy and honey in excess could lead to Diabetes... Diabetes that could have been prevented by none other than COFFEE. Coffee that is way healthier than marijuana and actually legal. Coffee that does not leave you with a weaker immune system. Nay! On the contrary! It *helps* your health and doesn't just numb pain along with some brain cells.

The moral of this story: SFOIJIOWEJGOAJSGLKJAW! or MUGS, NOT DRUGS! (depending on the translation).

WHEN ROBOTS ATTACK! (... Our School Systems?)

2009-08-21T18:03:00.000-05:00

For centuries... or basically for all of the centuries in which we've used machines... which is pretty much most centuries... hmmm. Okay, so since the beginning of robotness, mankind has fearfully wondered what would happen if the machine were able to completely control itself or (even more terrifyingly) think for itself. Scary schtuff if you ask me. It's not like we weren't warned about this...

Isaac Asimov was a science fiction writer in the early 20th century. He wrote a fancy book and was the first to use the actual word "robot." He even made up 3 rules for these 'bots to follow: The Three Laws Of Robotics (Clever Title Fail).

"A robot may not injure a human, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
A robot must obey the orders it [receives from] human beings except [when] such orders would conflict with the First Law.
A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law." (For the link to the quick history of robotics I read: click here... but it's really not that exciting.)

Why would that dude make up rules for the robots if they could be trusted in the first place? Weren't all rules made to be broken anyway? If that's the case, this guy has got some major apologizing to do. Maybe he thought they would be generally good and helpful. Sounds simple and innocent enough, right? WRONG. There's no controlling those machine guys. All they want is world domination and destruction. I mean, isn't that ALL we see in the movies and stuff? Think about it... Movies like "A.I." Do we reaaalllly want a creepy teddy bear walking around and talking to us in a suspiciously deep voice? NO. "Terminator." We all know how that goes. We have enough governators, thanks.

Now to slightly (and I mean very slightly) rational reasons why robots are not okay... They're taking our dang jobs and doing them way better! AND they do it for free. Psh. Who wants laborers that don't require sleep, food, pay, or health benefits? Basically... We're screwed!

Exhibit A. Now even musicians around the world are going to be crying because there is no way they can compete with this. What then? The music industry will become completely robotic even though there's no passion in that guy's massive black plastic eyes of deep-rooted evil.

Furthermore, being taught by a living being will become obsolete thanks to these new teacher robots in Japan. They are "not intended to replace human teachers," but they can... and WILL. dun dun dun. This will totally ruin the education system.

A) Students will be too terrified to even go to class.... I mean. Look at that! TERRIFYING!

B) How can a robot teacher really control a class?? Kids can just unplug it and have recess alllll day long, right? NO. How else do you think a robot will control a class of boisterous children? LASER BEAM VISION. You might argue that that's definitely more effective than most disciplinary methods and that it would keep the kids in line... But it's also a little bit dangerous, eh? Not to mention waaay-haaay more terrifying/end-of-the-world-esque.

C) The teacher's voice would be in monotone.... If the laser beams don't get them, the boredom most certainly will.

Basically, robots have helped us out in some ways, but I feel like there should be a line drawn at some point. Of course stupid people will probably hire a robot to make said line, so that it'd be straighter.... Vicious cycle, people. Vicious cycle.

When Life Gives You Lemons...... You Are Basically INDOMITABLE

2009-05-02T22:11:00.000-05:00

Since I'm your typical nerd, I was looking up articles online when I came across one that mentioned the health benefits of lemons. With all these crazy diseases going around, I thought it'd be a good thing to consider. We all could afford to help out the ole immune system, eh? To start things off I'm going to remind you why it is you want to protect said immune system. There are plenty of gross diseases out there.... AIDS, mumps, chickenpox, mononucleosis (people just can't control their hormones and still makeout away when they are of ill health. Fools, I say!), Herpes (FUN FACT: You can get it playing beer pong. Yikes!), and now the infamous SWINE FLU. Now that you're motivated to get healthy, I'll give you one tip to make it happen: when life gives you lemons-- MAKE, DRINK, & IF POSSIBLE SHOWER YOURSELF IN LEMONADE. You will not regret it. In general, "[The lemon] is a sour, warm, promoter of gastric fire, light, good for vision, pungent and astringent."..... so that might not be the most convincing aspect. In fact that makes lemons seem like they have downright nastay effects. Maybe the fact that it "checks the excessive flow of bile" or "dislodges phlegm" will help? Still not sold I'm guessing. This WILL convince you without making you want to upchuck. (Whoever wrote the article I read clearly was not as eloquent as me.)

The following are what you get in return for eating the citrus wonder:

It helps with rheumatism. (Big word for inflamed joints)
It can kick the bootimi (that's plural for bootimus) of MALARIA and TYPHOID bacteria. Wowza! That's shocking!
Vitamin C, baybaaay. We all need it. We alllll love it.
You can avoid the same drama experienced by Vasco De Gama. (He was that dude that was the 1st to sail around the Cape of Good Hope and whatnot....) His fellow sailor buds died of scurvy. That's rough... But guess what would've changed that. Yep. Lemony goodness.
If you're diabetic like my dog, it can help relieve thirst.
When you get too hot to handle (particularly feverish, that is) then it can palliate the fever (unless the only prescription for you is MORE COWBELL!... SNL reference that I could only hope you understand. I would give you the link, but all the videos for it have been deleted b/c of a stupid copyright on Youtube... I tried... I failed.... I apologize.)
It can de-constipate you... yeah.
It has potassium, which is lovely for your heart. (It's the fruit that loves you back.)
It helps with high blood pressure.
If you want to climb Mt. Everest do it by all means... as long as those means include lemons. That guy Edmund Hillary said that he couldn't have breathed way up there without his little citrus friends that can help the respiratory system.
They're just plain tangy/delicious/juicy!
They're good for your vision. I wouldn't be too surprised if you could get X-Ray vision from these guys. They're that potent.

Well... That's about it. If you're feeling fruity you can read more about lemons here, but if not... just take my word for it.

My word: Lemons are divine. They don't grow on da vines though. I am officially exhausted and embarrassed because I made a terribly painful pun (I bet a lemon could fix that pain with ease though!), so this is a safe place to stop... before I cause further detriment to my self-esteem.

Good night, world! I hope to see you disease-free and lemon-ified soon!

Know Your Own Strength. Brush Like A Dentist.

2009-03-20T18:12:00.001-05:00

We all have our strengths and weaknesses.

I've been learning lots of tough lessons lately. The greatest--

Don't push things.

They might just push back.

I used to pride myself in the vast toughness I exhibit with every shot at the doc's office. I even joked that pain was actually pleasing... that shots had no effect on me. I was wrong-o.

Everyone knows about my really super fun concussion incident a couple of weeks ago. Lucky people know the cause, too, and are able to get a laugh out of it-- that one stupid shot that made me pass out and hit the floor. BAH! So, I'm weaker than I thought. A downright pansy! I feel like such a disgrace to every lover of pain in the world.

Another area of my life in which I overestimate my strength... SLEEP.

I always think, "I better stay up till 2 a.m. every night before tests, so I can be prepared. Coffee will be enough to get me through the day." This usually is on a Sunday night before a lovely Monday test, and the rest of the week I'm a comatose mess of a student because I do the same thing every other following week night. I push myself too hard, and it's stupid. But I do love me some A's, and I probably won't stop this frown-able behavior. Some people would choose x-ray vision or the ability to fly for a superpower. I would just choose not to require sleep.

But I don't want you thinking that you're a wimp like me. In fact, you might surprise yourself. You might be freakishly strong and tolerant of difficulties at times.

I don't want you thinking I'm a complete wimp either. I'm actually quite a brute as I discovered one fateful day while brushing my teeth. I thought I was brushing normally... little, light, and perfect circles to create cleanliness with my toothbrush. In actuality, I was such a mega-strong/powerful being that I actually snapped Poor Lil' Toothbrush O' Mine clean in HALF! So, I guess you don't want to make me angry? You won't like me when I'm angry? Really now. I thought I was just being jolly and cleaning my pearly whites. I might have even hummed a merry tune. The only tune I must've actually been creating was a tune of havoc and doom!

So take this as a precaution. Don't push yourself too hard, but also be aware when you're supposedly not pushing too hard [especially while brushing your teeth because enamel doesn't just grow on trees... it grows on teeth and can't be replaced that easily] because you might become destructive without realizing it.

Know your own strength....

Because not all of the problems we create for ourselves can be solved with Sensodyne®.

Make Our Vernacular SPECTACULAR!

2009-03-20T12:56:00.001-05:00

What horrible thing went awry to cause our destruction of the English language? It is one of the most confusing and inconsistent tongues out there, if you ask me. Seriously, who made all the bozo decisions to create grammar rules when there is zero consistency? Now, I like structure. I like things that make sense. Our language no makea da sense. Every day I find more things to hate about the state of the English language as used in American colloquialism. As pointed out to me by my dear sister Brooke (a.k.a. Womanbeast... if you were wondering), words used for plurals suck. Think about it...... Why is it that:

Goose --> Geese

Moose ≠ Meese

Ox --> Oxen

Fox ≠ Foxen

Whyyyyy?!

Also, I hate the word "an." It used to be used before any word during the Middle Ages. You even said "an horse" back in the day. That sound is grating to me! It's poison of the hemlock variety to my ears. Even more toxic than music by Britney. It's okay with vowels in present times ("an orange")... even with silent h's that create vowel sounds ("an hour"). It still leaves me dissatisfied, though, because you technically have to use it to talk about "an unicorn." You know what? Every time we say "an"... an unicorn DIES! (Saying, "Sorry, little majestical creatures. It was only an accident," just won't cut it anymore-- no matter how sorry I actually was for killing at least 5 in this paragraph. I call for change!)

Our language is a travesty. An embarrassment!

Not only that, but the lame "lang" (slang for "language") that remains in our daily use is wasting away day by day. Check this out... There are 171,476 words in the dictionary that we still use today. Okay, that might seem like a lot, but there are also 47,156 obsolete words.

What's more... The words we do use are abbrev. NOT acceptable, America!

Let's spice it up, people. We can fix this dying language that was once lustrous, luscious, and darn-near artful.

Bring back ye ol' magical jargon!

Shakespeare had it right. He realized that our language was lacking in flava. He invented 1500-1700 words, and we just let them DIE... just like them innocent unicorns. I have a lot of respect for that guy (so does LFO because they even went so far as to mention that "Billy Shakespeare wrote a whole buncha sonnets" in their hit "Summer Girls." Even they fail with word choice because they go by LFO instead of their true name Lyte Funky Ones.), but I have even more respect for Kate Kelley. She is pure genius and the next Shakespeare, e'rybody. (Sidenote: She said I could talk about her words, as proven by Kate Kelley herself when she quoth: "You can use my words...just cite me...I like credit. It does wonders for my ego." This is me ego-stroking Kate by citing her. I even use the © symbol later on!)

Kate is an example of my first solution for our gigundo problemo.

1) Make up spectaculicious words (That's a word I just made up. Right now. On the spot.)

- Not only is it a "hoot," as Grandmama would say, but it's also a cheap shot at impressing people.

- Just remember: The bigger the better!

- A little trick I use: add "-icious" to the end of tons of words. It never goes wrong 89% of the time.

- Feel free to borrow Kate Kelley words © such as:

*verocious*-- basically like ferocious, but with a v.

*complaintative*-- a description of someone whilst they are complaining; there's no better way to describe them!

*conversate*-- it may be in an Anberlin song and actually real to dictionary.com, but we say she invented it. It's not in REAL dictionaries.

The list goes on. I'm just giving a small sampling. My point is, you never know what could end up in the next version of the dictionary. How else could "bling-bling" have ended up in there? Keep up the work, Kate.

2) Hilarity is muy importante.

-Respond to every sentence that a friend says with, "That's What She Said" (even if she really didn't. Truthfulness is not what counts in this case.)

-Don't be afraid to quote "Anchorman" on daily basis either.

3) Be a friend with the rhymes you lend. The "sound" itself oft is key to brightening our language. There are some verbal duds out there who spoil the fun for the rest of us studs, so if your pal says "Bird," reply with "Word!"... or any other word that rhymes. Very simple.

4) Who doesn't love vintage jeans or records? Nobody. Everybody loves them. Then, let's bring vintage & unused words back into style. If you need some help, here you go: Click Here! Really. Click. A-way! I guarantee your vocabulary will become brobdingnagian. Make yourself something more than coprolite. Who cares if your friends think you're being recondite. (See what I did just then? I combined rhyming with the use of two rockin' "vintage" words. WOOH!) I must applaud Jessica Hovis for taking the initiative for this area of language use. (Am I a name-dropper today or what?)

5) Don't worry about professionalism all the time. Slang can be grrreat as well. Just avoid trite sayings, such as "rad." Instead take to words like "splendiferous" or "snazzy".... maybe even "jazzy"... or any other word that ends in "-azzy" for that matter.

6) Pronunciation can do wonders as well. Take the word I just used, snazzy, and change it to "Snahaaah-zay."

The Beastie Boys were so grand at doing this. Keep in mind: "You gotta fight. For your right. To paaaaaaaartay"... with the English language!

7) Don't be hesitant to be bilingual at times. It can make you muy interesante to others. They will love the exotic charisma you bring to the table, and they WILL thank you for it.

8) Puns aren't always lame when used responsibly.

9) All anybody admires is alliteration... as seen in the movie "V for Vendetta":

Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.

Just do this for me. Please, or else I'll clapperclaw or defenestrate you. (Look it up.)

Real Self Defense: Ways Not To Get Your Butt Kicked

2009-03-05T12:40:00.000-06:00

I've discovered that all the self-defense instructors out there know NOTHING!

They think they're so smart... but they're not. Exhibit A. Not only does this guy know nothing, but I'm pretty sure he also has a balloon stuck in his throat. How could this happen? Easy: He sucks at self-defense to such an extent that he was beaten by a balloon-animal-making clown! Very sad. Exhibit B (Picture above). Billy Blanks may seem edified in the art of Tae Bo. He might seem like a great kickboxer. Wrong! He's a novice.

You might be wondering why I'm being so judgmental. Well, I wonder how you aren't! Everyone who's anyone knows that the only true self-defense instructors are those that use it in daily life... I literally mean daily... and they do it to literally survive. Of course, I'm talking 'bout the animals. They know what they're doing. Before I move on I will assure you that this is neither a PETA ad nor psycho babble. Well, actually I am a psycho who tends to babble, so I guess I just refuted that last claim. Anyway...I'm just going to discuss why los animales are bad to the bone, too hot to handle, and too cold to shovel.

#8 on my list is the sea cucumber. These guys can literally change their physical state and become liquid! Siiiiick. And by "siiiiick" I mean "awesome" and not "gross."

#7 The Tasmanian Devil. They don't really even need their razor-sharp fangs or bad attitude to scare off predators. They are THE predator. They are the smelliest animals on Earth, and that's how they are assured privacy. If I had known about this before, I would have simply stopped showering in hopes of avoiding some nagging from parents. Unfortunately, I'm fond of hygiene, so their tactics aren't exactly right for me.

#6 Possums play dead! Believe it or not, that thing is very much alive. How bombdiggity is that? Quite. Quite bomdiggity.

#5 Potato Beetles cover themselves in their own poop. This never personally worked for me, but feel free to try it if you're an adventurer, or if none of these other tips work for ya.

#4 Hagfish release an ooze under water that encompasses their prey and suffocates it. Gosh golly jed batman, that's crazy! Forget about firearms and bow-staffs! Excrete GOO!

#3 The Hairy Frog can break its own legs and turn them into flesh-tearing, death-delivering claws of horror! They're even nicknamed "Horror" Frogs, and I can see why.

#2 The Bombardier Beetle (How they can be even bombardier than the Bombard Beetle beats me!) They literally breathe fire from their butts! Actually it's a toxic fluid... but it's from their bootimus. Insane In The Membrane? Almost. Insane Use Of Butt Rain? Yes. (Cuz that's what it is).

#1 The Malaysian Ant. These guys literally implode! I mean, how ruh-haaad-ical would it be to spontaneously combust?! No one could withstand you unless they were equipped with an asbestos suit.... and who has an asbestos suit lying around his/her house (Besides me since I collect them along with straightjackets and machetes galore... Kidding.)? Obviously, exploding would kill you, but then again-- it would also kill all your non-asbestos-suit-wearing-enemies! WOOOOAH! Plus, they shoot poison. I know little kids want to be lions or ponies or firemen when they grow up, but I'm going to be a Malaysian Ant fo' sho.

Care to learn more about the true self-defense instructors of the world?

Click Here!

Danger Lurks Everywhere!: A Tribute To The Clumsy

2009-03-05T00:12:00.001-06:00

Yesterday I got my fourth concussion. Now you're probably thinking, "Wow... She must mud wrestle with bears or ride bucking broncos while being greased in oil frequently to be concussed so often." Noooo... I'm just a stupid klutz. I trip over: my shoe laces, pieces of paper, nothingness, etc. I get mysterious bruises, unintentionally stab myself with dull objects (for ex. bread sticks), pass out all too often, and eat the floor with my head/face... a lot. Just so you know, floors don't taste so great, and they're home to bacteria because people walk on them... with SHOES! SHOES that have been covered in the germs of public bathrooms, dog poo, and cooties in general! At least I know pencils aren't "lethal" anymore cuz they're made of graphite now instead of lead (doesn't change the fact that they're sharp and could very well end up in my heart and/or jugular in one of my clumsier moments).

The injury that takes the cake definitely occurred on March 3, 2009 (in a doctor's office). To you that may sound convenient, ironic......or just downright HILARIOUS, but to me it sounds like a normal day in the life of Rachel, failure, and embarrassment... with a hint of amnesia.

I was getting shots with the doc, a pretty normal thing, as I wish to be immune to many things (meningitis, awkwardness, people that spit waterfalls whilst speaking, hiccups, clowns, and dolls). I do pretty well with shots, so it was weird that I began blacking out. I tried to shift my body so I wouldn't fall off the patient table. Instead, I plunged forward, causing my head to receive the brunt of my fall. Now the second part is just what I heard from my two witnesses (who tragically didn't have the catlike reflexes required to save me). I have no recollection of this, being that I was ummm... UNCONSCIOUS! I believed them when I felt the baseball-sized lump on my head and the delish pain that accompanied it. I woke up not knowing where I was, what day it was, or... anything else. It. was. awesome. (No... It wasn't.)

That's basically my life as a clutz thus far. Many more injuries to come, I assure you.

Here's the diagnosis, kiddies: Mid-level serious concussion, amnesia, & hurt ego. RIGHT ON!

Oh, and if you're bored, here's a fun game you can play, but it will only work for a few more days (I hope!). It's called "RACHEL HAS A SHORT TERM MEMORY AND JUST MIGHT BELIEVE ANYTHING YOU TELL HER." Have fun!

That is all. Stay in school. Avoid pointy objects. Go to the doctor's office... if you DARE!

I Know The Meaning Of Life! (Thanks Ask.com!)

2009-02-25T22:11:00.000-06:00

People look for meaning in a lot of things: the Bible, trusted friends, counselors, philosophies of ancients like Plato, etc. But why stop there? Why not look for meaning in one of the most powerful entities known to mankind-- THE INTERNET! It's so obvious! The answers to all our questions are right at our disposal, and that's just what we're doing... disposing. It's quite sad really. All you have to do is go onto Ask.com and ask, "What is the meaning of life?"

It will answer (quite climactically, I might add) with:

"The meaning of life is a philosophical question concerning the purpose and significance of human existence."

Crap... Well that just sucks.

But I was not giving up! I knew the answer was out there. I just knew it. Next I just decided to go to TheMeaningOfLife.com... Let me just tell you right now, I was über excited when the website started loading. I was thinking, "Eureka! By George, I think I've got it!" along with some other 'profound discovery sayings' of the like when on the screen appeared an ad with a link to a website... selling LIFE the boardgame. I was just about over the disappointment, but being an optimist made me keep a'searchin' through the interweb for the answer to the question we are all (ironically enough) dying to know.

You see, they have these pretty rad little ask and answer things online where you can view questions people ask a lot and the answers that people give. I looked at the highest ranked answers of course-- I go for quality, guys-- because they're the most trustworthy. I mean who knows? Some of the deepest minds of the world could be collaborating online to find these answers. And there they were. My excitement was seething within...

Until I read them:

"Your main purpose is to survive by any means and to reproduce."

Umm... Ew. Okay, so that wasn't Einstein's response. Pretty bleak, too. But wait, there were more!

"We are here to have lots and lots of fun, sex, good food and take care of each other!"

Still twisted, but at least this person's friendly and concerned for others.

...And then it came, a beacon of hope upon my darkened horizon, a bastion of comfort encompassing my seemingly unbearable angst & despondency:

"42. It's categorically inverted by the integers of the divine fraction, thus making it a necessary key to the sub-complex division of life's true cause. This was proved by philosopher Charles Leland in the 19th Century."

Well, now it all just makes sense! My faith in humanity is so vast right now. I think I can sleep at night now.... Thanks, The Internet, and goodnight!

You Know You're An Addict When...

2009-02-21T21:28:00.000-06:00

So, ever since I can remember I have been a coffee lover. Over the years my passion for the deliciously satisfying beverage has grown an obscene amount. Being exposed to some of the strongest versions of coffee early on has matured my taste quite significantly. I prefer darker roasts, and I can drink my coffee hardcore, meaning without cream and sugar. I hope one day to be a connoisseur of sorts. I've always liked to drink it for pleasure...

But what happens when it becomes more than a disposable pleasure that you have every now and then? What happens when you become... ADDICTED? dun dun dun. Up until recently I thought my so-called interest in coffee was entirely innocent. Before, I knew it was a guilty pleasure and that I should probably cut back on my daily Cup'oJoe intake. Now I realize that I'm completely hooked. So hooked that I must have "the goods" every day. My eyes are opened to the caffeine-filled, crazed monster I've become-- just a'guzzling coffee like it's water (unfortunately, though it's made of water, it doesn't count as such. poo on that!).

Caribou Coffee has only made this serious issue worse. The scrumptious flavor, perfect viscosity, potent energy-boost, and sheer joy found within every cup just cannot be turned away, avoided, or refused! Deliciousness up the wazoo, I say! Apparently, if deliciousness has reached the level of "wazoo," it's just about maxed-out in its awesomeness potential.

Anyway, it only makes sense that I've begun making a Caribouan purchase anywhere between 1 and 4 times a week. I knew I had issues when I learned the name of the coffee guy (Sidenote: It's Ben) and virtually every item on the menu. I can easily give recommendations because I've sampled various beverages.

It's not just me that knows about the coffee place and its contents, but the people who work there also recognize me when I come in. I see the glimpse of joy twinkle in their eyes when they see me come in. It's as if they are saying to me, "Ah, yes. Our favorite customer who single-handedly keeps us in business and oft will leave us a tip in the mug that says 'Thanks A Latte." Until last week I thought that that was the only thing they thought when they spotted me, but apparently I have a USUAL now. Yep. A usual. I've never had one before, and I've gotta say, it's quite fabuloso. No need to waste your time saying lengthy names of coffee drinks when your mouth is already so dry due to a lack of liquid sustenance. Just walk in, watch them immediately made your drink-of-TACIT-choice, pay the cashier, and waltz on out of there. The convenience is grand- truly 'tis so.

At the same time, I realize the fact of the matter is that I'm spending away my life savings on the most delicious and least harmful legal drug (I've seen on several news reports that it can prevent Alzheimer's... here's hoping!). I'm a junkie. I'm ashamed. I've admitted my issues. I'm NOT seeking help though. Until I'm broke, have yellow teeth, and am short (oops. too late) I will not give it up. I can whenever I want for the record (basically every addicts claim, but I'm being serious). But yeah. Come with me to Caribou sometime. It will be a euphoric "trip" if you will. Get it... cuz I said coffee was a drug? Mmmmwow. Okay, so this is the part where I get embarrassed and stop typing. ¡El fin!