Has anyone noticed that I've been a little sparse on adventure stories? Because I've noticed. Whomp whomp. Never fear though, I'm headed to the Windy City this weekend for grad school visits and tourist shenanigans. In the meantime I've decided to supply you with some other bits and pieces from this old noodle.
So, I'm in this class. "Curriculum and Teaching I". I'm not really sure what goes on in this class except that the teacher just kind of meanders through our reading assignments with an unclear mental thread. Needless to say I have some flippin' sweet doodles in my notebook thus far. But, before my professor begins her hour and a half "lecture" (if you can even call it that) we do an hour of free writing. Scoreee. It's supposed to help us learn to write like teachers of writing. But I'm just going to take what I can get and be glad to have some structured time for putting words to paper; writing is my favorite.
Anyhoo, this week we read the poem "Power" about some kids who plant a dummy on some train tracks to try and get the train to stop. Long story short, the train runs over the dummy, train driver freaks out (thinking that he had just hit a kid) and everybody loses. From this we are instructed to: "write a poem that is a remembered scene when things didn't turn out as expected and the voice of the poem is one of someone who wasn't ready for what happened."
First we hear about the death of one girl's grandfather, then the loss of innocence of a girl exposed to a PCB spring break far too young, and then I whip out this number. Enjoy.

Snap. Crackle. Pop. 

Snap. Crackle. Pop. 

White foam crests over the top of my bubbling Rice Krispies. 

Ears gobble up the soft chatter as the mouth waters with anticipation 

of the sweet crunch and sugary milk. 

"Darling, come here just a minute" interrupts my cereal's song.

Eyes steal a wistful glance at my bowl. 

Food isn't allowed in the living room, 

not since the red stain on the white carpet. 

Whoops. 

I scamper into the next room. 

Charlie Brown's teacher tells me something important 

"Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wah" 

Her voice drones on as I think of the crisp, crunchy delight 

waiting for me in the next room. 

How I long to hear the chorus whisper, 

"Snap. Crackle. Pop." into my hungry ear.

"Alright then?" broke my reverie. 

"Yes, yes, alright. Am I excused?" 

"Go on." 

The words have barely escaped her lips before I am back in the kitchen.

Leaning close, I crane my ear. 

The bowl is silent. 

Scooping a large spoonful toward my mouth 

the anticipation of that airy, crunch filling my my stomach with delight 

almost too much to contain. 

Splat. 

Soggy, mush falls flat on my tongue. 

Tears leap to my eyes. 

No snap. No crackle. No pop. 

Someday my teachers are going to stop calling me "clever" and start calling me "smart a$$", but hopefully not any time soon.

 

You'll have to forgive me, I'm about to have a Carrie Bradshaw moment here. (yes, that does in fact mean that I will be narrating this post in my head with a lofty, retrospective voice) 

It's twenty-thirteen. Weren't we supposed to have flying cars by now?

New Years carries such an exotic connotation. One mention of New Years Eve conjures fabulous sparkling dresses, champagne poured until you drink yourself silly, kissing a loved one, kissing a stranger, and at the stroke of midnight: the new year. Everything becomes new. 

At least, that's what I imagine what happens to people on the night of New Years Eve. Most years I spend mine on the couch with a few single friends, joking about the mishaps and misadventures of the past year, promising ourselves that next year will be better. Not a bad way to spend an evening, but when that clock hits twelve there's always a few minutes of celebration and then - "now what?"Most of the time the answer to that question is, "sweatpants and bed" (it's a wild and crazy life I lead here). 

This year, I spent New Years Eve feeding some goats, eating queso, watching What to Expect When You're Expecting, and laughing at all the people freezing their tushes off in Underground Atlanta waiting for the peach to drop. It wasn't wild, and it wasn't exotic but it was a grand old time nonetheless. 

Happy new year, my friends. Here's to having flying cars by the next! 

I'm an English/Language Arts Education major and have found that everyone has an opinion about it.

It always makes me slightly uncomfortable when I get the "Oh, I hated English classes. I would never read" response. What do you say to something like that? "Congratulations"? "I don't really read either unless the book seems really interesting, I can probably just fake it a little better than you can"?

But the response that really grinds my gears is the: "Oh my gah, PLEASE do not make your students read Beowulf/Wuthering Heights/anything by Thoreau/etc."
Excuse me? Come again? Do I know you?
We all have bad experiences with books in high school, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad was the absolute bane of my existence for two very long weeks in the twelfth grade but that certainly does not discount the educational merit of the book. Despite my anguish that bloomed with each page, Ms. Melancon used that painful packet of pages to execute useful lessons on determining whether the narrator is trustworthy and analyzing an author's syntactical choices.
It really puts me in a bind when people throw out books that I enjoy. Paradise Lost? Most people who aren't that into literature can't stand it but satirical epic poems are my jam. I can't wait to pull that one out in a classroom.
Plus, why on Earth would I make such a promise? I don't know what will be on AP tests or standard curriculum by the time I get around to being a teacher.

I realize that I'm being obnoxiously, angsty, English major-y in this post but it becomes quite tiresome to listen to all of these different books that I "absolutely shouldn't teach". And I am sure these people are just looking for someone with a similar disdain for a particular book, but I have had quite enough of that nonsense.

 I may start responding with a simple "You can't tell me what to do! You're not my mom!"

Today I made Kroger mac and cheese. I put my mac and cheese in a gallon bag. My mac and cheese and I got into the car. We drove to the library. At the library I proceeded to shuck my shoes and snack on my mac from the gallon bag like I owned the joint. Clearly, I'm a genius or have completely lost my mind. Either way I'm quite comfortable.

I really should get a head start on my homework that's due Friday but I really don't want to have to turn off my Pandora. Stinking homework that requires thinking.

I'm really itching for a story right now, but my poor little brain is feeling a little fried. Maybe a goodnights' sleep over Thanksgiving break will help.

Pancakepalooza 

My favorite part about living in an apartment is our dingy, constantly broken kitchen. Seriously, the sink leaks unless you turn it to a precise spot, the burners are so crooked that anything in the pan will slide all the way to the right, and no matter the scrubbing we give it, the floor always looks like we live in a pig sty. But I love it because finally I can repay my debt. To all the upperclassmen who invited me into their sparsely furnished homes and saved me from another night of the great debate: another sandwich from Rye of the Tiger (yes, that's what it's really called) or starving. So turning around in kind, my smelly oven and crooked burners are allowing me to cook all the easy meals I can manage for the on-campus dwellers in my life. Thus - pancakepalooza.

So tonight for the grand tradition of Halloween we had two options (yes, only two) - 1. don our best slutty firewoman/bumblebee/spider/etc. costumes then pay $10 to stand around awkwardly sober in a smelly bar with some strangers in costumes or 2. cook pancakes for some of our favorite freshmen and sophomores, watch some Hocus Pocus, and not leave the apartment all night.

One guess on what option was chosen...

Did you guess that I hit up Bourbon Street as the sluttiest spider of 2012??

Well that would be the incorrect guess.

Chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, Hocus Pocus (followed by Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone) and an apartment full of chattering girls made for a perfect Halloween. And I didn't even have to get out of my sweatpants!

That's about as exciting as my life gets right now. School is coming on in a full court press and between a grammar class that feels like math and trying to figure out my grad school game plan it's no wonder why my laundry has been sitting in the dryer for a day and a half now (whoops!). Happy days nonetheless with Thanksgiving break right around the bend. Just two more weeks and I'll have seven full days to recuperate from this semester - oh wait! that's a joke. At least I'll have a full week to catch up on school work right before finals? Oh well, still something to look forward to.
My eyes are going crosseyed with exhaustion so you'll have to excuse me from a clever transition into signing off. Goodnight blogger world and a very merry beginning of No Shave November!

School needs an E-brake. That's all I have to say.

'Sup internet peoples. It's Octoberrrrr. Want to hear all the things I love about fall? Me either, that list would be boring and dumb. I wish I could say that the weather is getting cooler but I would be lying. Although I do enjoy the awkwardly crisp and humid mornings. You know the kind, where you walk out the door in the morning and think, "oh this is so delightfully chilly! maybe I should have worn tights under my dress!"and then about ten minutes into your walk all you can think is "mother of pearl why am I sweating in October?!" Struggles.
I can't think of any one particular thing to share so instead I'm going to give you a list. Here are my Little October Lessons:

1. Pitch Perfect rivals Bridesmaids in comedy - If you haven't seen it, go see it... right now.
Seriously, why are you still here? GO.
Still here? Fine. Maybe you can go see it this weekend. A matinee is only eight bucks. (which is HIGHWAY ROBBERY by the way)

2. When the recipe says "one cup" it really doesn't mean pour in three-fourths of the bag. If you add too many chocolate chips to pumpkin chocolate chip muffins, the chocolate chips overwhelm the pumpkin.  Whoops.

3. Impromptu, surprise visits from high school friends are the greatest.

4. Wearing an open back leopard print dress is always a good idea for formal.

5. Wearing an open back leopard print dress is not a good idea when you sit outside of McDonalds until the wee hours of the morning.

6. ..."interesting" people frequent McDonalds at 3am in Auburn, AL

cute people before formal 

7. My sawrawity (sorority) family is better than everyone else's. No contest.

Seriously. No contest.

8. Registering for classes never stops making you want to pull your hair out in frustration.

9. I only have three more semesters as an undergrad - what. the. what.

10. With every year I gain, the less mature my Halloween costume ideas get. Right now the big contenders are the cast of Scooby Doo or the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

I should really return to one of the three projects I have due in the terrifyingly near future. It's definitely one of those weeks where I realize that I have so much to do that my little brain has just decided that none of it is actually going to get done. This being a junior in college thing is tough.

(Jokes on jokes to my parents who are paying this out-of-state tuition - I'm studying hard!)

Happy Wednesday Homies - C.Sher out.

believing in AU & AXO and loving it!