From socratic seminar to real life

I want to be an author. From what I've read getting published is extremely difficult; and even then you don't make enough money off of one book to support yourself. So I will need to learn to read my own stuff without giving up and/or throwing the computer at the wall.

Seeing from different points of view is what authors do. That's why its so infatuating to me. When you write something you have to be in every single characters head. So that you can understand why they are doing something and translate it well on page. I still need to work on this. Sometimes I like to force my characters to do things that they wouldn't really do. Sometimes because of a dead line or sometimes because where they want to go is to long story. I love my characters though. I get especially excited with my side characters. Probably because I get so uptight with my main characters and the side characters are simple fun. I think I will get better though. I just need to practice some more.

Pardoner vs the Wife of Bath

The more I tried to compare and contrast them the more I realized they had in common. They both scam people out of their money and status, and they both do this through appealing to others guilt. The wife of bath tells her first few husbands how badly they treated her when they were "drunk". While the pardoner gives sermons on how the root of all evil is desire, and since desire is an emotion everyone feels, everyone feels guilty of his accusations.

However I can't help feeling more inclined toward the wife of bath. This is mostly due to the Pardoner's taking of money from very poor individuals. I pretty much wanted to hit the man when he was talking about taking money away from starving widows families. So the wife won on the count that at least she was not taking survival money from less fortunate families.

The pardoner never really tried to justify his actions either. He did give a short little thing in which, if I remember correctly, he basically said that other people were scamming other people so why not him but that was it. The wife of bath on the other hand gave a huge speech on why what she did was acceptable. So the wife of bath must have felt a little guilt because she felt like she had to defend her actions. That's what I think anyway, maybe I'm crazy and she doesn't feel a thing. However since I think she did feel a little guilt she wins here.

Then the wife of bath wins on the fact that deep down she seems to be searching for something real. The pardoner may want something like that as well but I hold to much of a grudge againtt him to see it if he does.

Then, finally, the wife of bath changes somewhat with her last husband. I don't know, but it felt like there was more tenderness when she spoke about her last husband. This, to me made her seem more like a human. The pardoner showed he was a human being only in a negative way. The wife of bath wins and takes the gold!!

Haunted Houses

Friday I experienced my first haunted house. I discovered that I hate haunted houses.


My aunt convinced me to go by telling me that I didn't have to come. That she would take my 10 and 11 year old siblings by herself and I could just wait outside if it was too scary for me. So all four of us walked into the haunted house called "Deception, what you see is not what you get." It was the only house with no line, which I thought meant that it was not scary. I was also hoping that this haunted house did not have any people to jump out at me because I never know what to do with myself when they're around (Do I do what my instincts say and quickly walk past? Or do what my 14 year old sister does and tell them their mask is probably an improvement on their face?) However neither hope was to become a reality as the man who took our tickets said not to touch the characters and they would not touch us.

I will not go through every minute detail of what happened once we were inside, one, because it would take to long, and two, because I am not particullary eager to relive every jump and scream. Its enough to say that my aunts sweater was stretched to double its width and that my poor little brother was pushed first through the entire affair.

When we came out the other end I felt so...dumb. No brain power is needed for such an activety, in fact I'm pretty sure I turned off a part of my brain in the process.

Why do human beings willingly put themselves in such situations? It goes against every instinct ever known to PAY to go to a place where you KNOW you will be scared and chased.

Although part of not liking it is probably due to the fact that I am a whimp. I don't watch horror movies (I am not very good with gore) and, like I said, this was my first haunted house. Unless, that is, you count the haunted mansion in Disneyland which I actually enjoy because I am safely in my little cart thing where nothing living and breathing is going to jump at me.

So, while I cannot promise I will never go inside another house. (My brother and sister had a blast after all) I can promise that I will do everything in my power to avoid it.

One thumb up one thumb down

This essay really hit home for me. My little sister Hannah was diagnosed with leukemia when she was two. I also remember not being able to grasp that my little sister might die. To me leukemia was not so different from the flu. I was sure she would get better.

The big difference was that Mom and Dad were always gone and in exchange my aunt and uncle, who I didn't know very well at the time, took their place as parents and teachers. This was very difficult because our family had never been apart for very long. Now we had various people coming in and out of our house to visit and give comfort. We almost never had both parents home. Dad would come home on most nights and Mom on some. We took turns going with mom to the hospital as well.

Hannah herself never really acted sick when I was there. I remember Mom yelling at us as we charged down the hall, Hannah's IV stand being pulled along between us. We played bingo in the play room and, since it was Hannah's favorite movie, watched Sound of Music over and over again.

I also don't think I grasped what our ward did for us either. My Dad's company went bankrupt in the middle of Hannah's treatment. Leaving us, not only without any income, but without any insurance. I, however, don't recall suffering from this. In fact I think only Aaron, my older brother, felt the emotional effects from this. I just have a few memories of kindness. Like when I went to achievement days and we learned to make lasagnas through...making one. Then afterward I was informed that it was to be me who would take it home. Or the ten families who decided to do us for their "12 day of Christmas"gift giving. (for those of you who don't know. Twelve days of Christmas starts twelve days before Christmas, beginning with a twelve item gift, and then day by day getting smaller till on Christmas eve you give one really good gift.) I remember nights of staying up to try and catch them. They were always to good. The closest we ever got was to see a small figure whip around the corner and climb into an unfamiliar car.

However I differ in the fact that Hannah did not die. Which, for me, only made the essay more powerful. I cannot imagine losing Hannah now.

Wu Wei

I must admit that when I heard this principal in class, it was hard to take in. Probably because it goes against everything that I think a successful human being ought to be. That is, proactive, self motivated, and a bit ambitious(but not to a malicious intent). Wu Wei, however, smelled strongly of "Go with the flow." Which it is.

However, by the end of class, and from what I've read, Its a lot more complicated than that.

Wu wei does not mean you dull your mind a bask in laziness. It means that you try and conform to your Toa. Which, translated into mary, means waiting untill you can see clearly the road that brings the most peace and joy.

I love the flowing water image best though. How a simple stream lets gravity take it down hill, and yet it wears and smooths rocks. Just considering what the water, or the rocks, could sybolize was something fun for me to think about.

losing things

I hate losing things. Or, more accurately, I hate looking for things.

I woke up a half an hour early today so that I would have time to write for creative writing. Then I discovered that had lost my necktie. I have now spent the last half an hour looking for it. A half an hour of digging through our junk drawer, under beds, through piles of dirty clothes, in my back pack, and other such pleasant places.

My brothers and sisters are now having pleasant dreams of my demise because I woke them up to ask them about it. They weren't helpful anyway. They simple confirmed over and over again that it was on the counter. Which is where I originally supposed it to be.

So I still havent found it. I stopped looking for it because I was beggining to get so upset I was looking throught that same counter over and over. Chanting that same line "It has to be here, It has to be here." There has been no maraculous AHA moment for me. Instead I shall buy a new one once I get to school. Then when I get home today I'll probably find it in my pocket or some such place. I so hate losing things.

On homework and writing

Lately, if I find the time to do anything not school related, I think I must be forgetting something. Then I spend the next few minutes fretting over my planner, trying to see homework assignments that aren't there. Sad huh?

However, I have to say that it is getting better. The homework load is still the same, but I'm getting faster.

I've learned to accept my work the way I do it the first time. Which is practically torture for me sometimes. Especially with my twisted fairy tale. I don't like sharing my work, even with my family, before its perfect. So you can imagine how I felt turning in a very rough piece to a teacher. The only way i got through it was by saying to myself. "There's another draft, there's another draft."

Even writing it was difficult. One of my greatest weaknesses is that I give up. I think of a good idea, but if I can't get it down just right then I stop trying. With writing on a schedule I was forced to put it down the best I could at that moment. Then come back to it later. I think I learned a lot from that.

The Koran: Joseph

Reading the Koran was a very interesting experience. Especially reading the story of Joseph. It felt like a completely different story only with the same...plot line.

There were some things that were taken out (At least from the version I know) and some things that were explored in further detail. For example, the coat wasn't even mentioned if I recall correctly. While the parts with the wife and Joseph were much more detailed.

I wouldn't say that I enjoyed this version of the story, but I did find it interesting. It seemed to back up Muslim belief. Just as my King James version of the story backs up my own beliefs. Naturally I prefer my version, because of its messages and familiarity to me. However I still found the korans version very interesting.

These are two poems I wrote very recently. However first I would like to put the disclaimer that I am not a poet and therefore these are far from perfect. However I had a good time writing them and thought I would share.

Left

The one day I need it,
I leave it.

The one moment I have to read it,
Its home.

The one day it rains,
I’m in shorts.

The one time I give an answer,
I’m wrong.

I always have everything that I don’t need.

Life can be such bucket of mud.

What I learned from cooking lessons

How grating a large hunk of cheese wears out your strength,
And grating a small hunk wears out your fingers.

The gooey satisfaction of immersing ones fingers into raw eggs to cover a piece of chicken,
And the covered, trapped feeling as your fingers and chicken get caked with breadcrumbs.

How to most efficiently have a peeling race, learning (Usually the hard way) to do it away from ones body to minimize,
But not eliminate, injuries.

I discovered peanut butter and cheddar-grilled sandwiches.
I discovered that the difference between one teaspoon and one tablespoon is everything.
And that only mom can measure by sight.

I learned that most every step is important,
That every ingredient adds something,
That sometimes you have to throw it out and start all over.

Therefore I have learned that I like toast,
Scrambled eggs and add water only pancakes
Frozen lasagnas, chicken bouillon cubes,
Fruit, leftovers, macaroni and cheese.
Anything that requires less then an hours preparation.

What to write?

Well my paper of idea's on what to write now has many pretty designs, but, unfortunately, no idea's. So I am going to write about how I cannot think of anything to write.

Trying to write when you can't think of anything is like forcing your foot into a shoe a size smaller than you are, possible, but extremely unpleasant and frustrating. So I have been limping across the keyboard for a little while now, wincing as every footfall yields disastrous results. Perhaps needlessly, I must say that this does not make me very happy.

Changing rules

It is funny how the rules change when you get older.

I learned this as my brother Jonah dropped a marshmellow.

"You know you have to eat that now." My dad said. Jonah smiled sheepishly as he reached down and picked it up.

My sister Heidi laughed and said "When your little everyone always tells you. Don't eat that! Its yucky!" She said. "But when your a teenager its. You drop it you eat it."

It's a funny concept. I wonder how many other rules have changed and I havent noticed?

A horrible dream

On Saturday my Uncle Zach let me borrow the most precious thing he owned. An advanced, author signed, not for sale, copy of the final installment in my favorite series. A book that, when he first got it, he told me he would let me read if and only if I was sitting at his kitchen table with gloves on. To me these conditions were generous. I probably would have wrapped it in bubble wrap and locked it in a safe had it been mine.

This is why I was so shocked when he handed it to me Saturday afternoon smiling. "I am going to let you borrow this book because I trust you." He said. I laughed, knowing he was serious but hardly daring to believe it. "I don't trust me that much." I said, but as I said it my fingers curled around the smooth, thick, paper back cover, unwilling to part.

"Books are meant to be read." He insisted. Then proceeded to try and reassure me by pointing out a nearly invisible imprint he had made with his finger on the front cover. I thought back to all of my most beloved books and shivered. I looked regretfully down at the the book in my hands, knowing I aught to wait until it came out and I had my own copy. I took in the picture on the front cover, it was the kind of cover that stirred up a hundred questions.

This time I would be more careful.

I handled the book gingerly the rest of the day. Treating it as if it were precious Christmas tree ornament. The only time I wasn't nervous about it was when I was caught up within it. Of course it didn't help that every time one of my siblings or parents saw me with it they would get wide eyed and say something along the lines of. "He let YOU borrow it?" Or "He must not have liked it that much."

When I finally climbed into bed that night I was feeling rather proud of myself. I had made it through the whole day and the book was as right as rain. I placed it gently on my bedside table before settling in to sleep and, in this case, dream.

Who knew there were so many ways to destroy a book? I spent the entire night dreaming up violent ends for the it! It fell off cliffs, got acid spilled all over it and was taken by the honey covered fingers of my two year old sister. The dream ended with me showing the book to my uncle.

I leapt out of bed the next morning only to find it sitting calmly where I had left it. Sweeter relief there never was.

I considered giving it back to my uncle for a short moment before plunking down in a soft chair and starting where I had left off.

Violins

My brother and sister are both starting the violin. My ears already ache.

Don't get me wrong, the violin is a very beautiful instrument when played correctly. In fact it is my favorite, and definitely the most romantic, of all instruments. However it is also a very effective torture device in the hands of a novice.

So hopefully they are both fast learners so that the screeching will cease.

Either way its going to be a long week.

When I was about nine years old I could recite the whole first movie of the Lord of the rings by heart. I think back now and that seems kind of… scary. Imagine how long it would take to memorize that full-extended version. Did I really ever have that much time?
Anyway I’ve just been thinking about this because I happened to dust it off and watch it (The first half anyway) last night . You know how things you used to love when you were little aren’t as good when you get older? Such as buble gum ice cream, the babysitters club books and the zoo. Well, Lord of the Rings just isn’t one of those things.
I was utterly absorbed, laughing far harder than the jokes deserved, tearing up at the first appearance of Sam, and knowing far more lines than a sane person should. It was like an old friend that had been away for a long while had suddenly turned up for a visit. Only better because there was no awkwardness involved.
I could say far more on lord of the rings, but neither you, nor I have the time or that kind of rant. So I guess I'll just end by saying I watched some of the Lord of the rings and, unlike Pokemon, it was as good as when I first watched it. If not better.

Moral or not
I think you know when you cross that line. You feel sick and odd sitting in movies that don't fit your standards.
For example, me, my brother, and my sister all went to see Distrubia one night. I remember that I wanted to see it because I had never seen a horror movie before. There was appearently a reason for that. Sure it was fun right when I came out of the theater, but the next day was misery. Images and lines that kept entering my min,. It took a year for all of those to go away.

That is not to say I don't watch movies with violence. I loved Dark knight. That one was scary, but it wasn't the sensless bloody gore that disturbia was. It talked about real moral delema's and truths. Through the whole movie I was thinking. "Was that the right choice, if so why?". I'm still not completely sure what I think, but it was was a powerful movie.

So I suppose that kind of goes with movies lying to you. I don't like to see things that are wrong and sad as fun and care free. It just makes the whole movie seem minipulative and fake.

I guess ultimetly I'm still undecided. I could name a list of movies I aprove or dissaprove of but I'm not sure I have any set rules about how to tell if somethings apropriete or not. I only know that if I feel like its not right, than I shouldn't watch it.

• Why I should bother with world history
• World history shows you an immense web of stories and heroes that have gone into the construction of where we are now. Its overwhelming how much heartache and bravery has gone into founding the government and basic truths we now live by. Its because of those groups and movements that some people now enjoy certain rights. They deserve to be recognized and remembered.
  
• Why I should bother studying literature.
• That's like asking why you should eat! Books are a way of delving into someones emotions, a way of seeing characters in a more intimate way than you would ever get to in real life. They make you think in ways you may never have thought before and let you see things from a completely different angle. They help you define your own opinions by prompting you to think about these things.
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• Why I should bother studying language arts.
• Language arts gives you the tools to communicate through writing. Its amazing what you can express with the right words and grammar. Any emotion you can think of, every story you've wanted to tell, anything you've longed to say can be said with it's tools.
• Why I should bother studying geography.
• Well geography plays a large role in how cultures lived and what they believed in. Knowing what resources and climates certain people lived with explains a lot about why they acted the way they did. It helps you understand them better.