The Apple Tree May 12, 2010
Last night, I slept awful. It’s finals week and I’m all in a tizzy studying for this and making a side not of this. I’m so nervous I could heave all over my scantron.
I’m tired and stressed and I got this idea to completely redo my story, nothing major just some names dates and some of the story line. eck! I know it’s crazy.
the highlight of my week was when we got my mom an apple tree. My dog, Sam took into her head that she likes apple trees, if my mom didn’t want it, she would take it.
“I said I want a peach tree.” My mom pouted about it looking at our gift.
“But they didn’t have any, didn’t you want an apricot one?” my sister asked her.
“No, apple is good.” she looked at the tree again, we all did.
Sam, my dog, decided that was the perfect time to come over. “Tree, tree!!” she bounded around it and sniffed. “my tree!”
she sat in front of it letting us know. “mine.”
she marched around and sniffed it. “Mine!” she bounced at us. “I will protect little tree.!” she looked at us. “you can go now!” she wouldn’t let us near the tree and still hasn‘t. we have to lock the crazy dog inside before we can water it and you can hear her howling inside when we go near it.
Now my funny puppy sits facing the tree, she’ll watch it and make sure no birds or squirrels get near it. When they do you would swear it is like they are trying to take one of her puppies, she goes crazy. So now the birds and squirrels have learned not to climb on the apple tree until she is asleep. =)
Uneventful. May 5, 2010
Lately my life has been wake up, go to class then head to another class, go home and study. I’m so sick of studying for finals I could throw all of my books out the window light them up and dance around the fire I made from them.
I can dream.
Whenever I can I try to do some editing on my novel, Autumn’s Beginning. It’s the first on I’ve completely finished and I’m just praying it isn’t to long or if it is that it is good enough to be that long. I’m nervous but I have made up my mind to send it in once I finish it. =) It would be the coolest thing if I actually got published and someone read my stories. We shall see.
I also started on the sequel to it, and the title is still in the works like the story. I love my characters and the plot that is beginning to take shape now I all I have to do is weave and bind it all together. Lucky me.
My family thinks I’ve gone completely insane because if I’m not studying I’m bent over my computer typing away and editing, I haven’t picked up a book for entertainment in. . . I don’t know how long. I don’t like reading and writing at the same time, it kind of throws me off and I don’t know why.
The Rant April 29, 2010
My life has been so busy, I feel so wiped out physically and emotionally. I’m drained but I push one =)
It seems as soon as I finish one test there is another right around the corner. I’m so sick of test and quizzes I could. . . I don’t now what I could do. Something very mean and rude. But I finally caught a break and I decided to catch up. Right now I’m sitting on the couch watching the Tudors (I’m very pissed off with the history by the way.), it is getting good though. Very messy.=) and it’s all in history.
I don’t understand the people back then. I don’t understand the times I guess. How can you say that God gave you the right to rule? How can you say that you were divinely chosen? How can you make all the mistakes of a human yet decide who lives and who dies? how can the people accept that. True the land could fall into chaos but is really better to let a man put a face on your country and shame it. True as it is most in the time of Henry VIII were ignorant of what went on, they could have just gotten news the second queen had been put to death while he was truly to his fourth wife. How can he claim to be divinely chosen and try to put forth this image of perfection and power for his people and other countries to fear him but yet he is so horribly human. Even if it is behind closed doors, shouldn’t he care the people he hurt. The women, I mean how can you be so blind to causing pain when you can see it. In other words, how can you be so heartless. I know I’m ranting on in an incoherent mess but I can’t help it.
Every time I watch the show I’m fascinated at how power can corrupt something that was once upon a time for the greater good. (I thought it was for the greater good). The need for power and wealth, the need for everyone to know that you are the one in control, how much more human can you be. How could these people believe that a man who showed vanity as much as or even more so than the average man was meant to rule them? It makes no sense though I suppose it is no different for us in our time. There is still greed and corruption. There is still vanity and everything that says that we are human only now most of know that it isn’t by divine right that these people are in power it is be because they are chosen by the people (not always the citizens) or and a few other reasons but also it is because they have everything they need to stay right where they want to be. No one is going to challenge a system because they won’t last very long. No one is going to challenge it because they know that they are very much out resourced.
I always wondered if God is weeping as he watches us now. Does he weep at seeing his children live the way we do, does he cry because we are so blind, so vain, so. . . I don’t even have a name to put with everything going on today. Does he cry because he knows just how horrible we are, I guess. Humans can be wicked, we can be vile and devious, we can manipulate and betray. Those are all things that make us human, we are far from perfect and that is one thing that I believe will never change.
I know I just went on a ranting spree, but I’m not sorry. I’m just tired and I really needed to let something out. *sigh
the day April 10, 2010
I don’t know what is with me lately. I’m tired and really moody, no I’m not PMSing. I would admit to it if I was. It isn’t that, I’ve just been really sad lately. Somehow it feels like I’ve been pushed backwards into the days of adolescents were you feels awkward and it seems like no one can keep your name out their mouth. My head has been everywhere but where it needs to be and I’m always so tired. . .
I don’t know, I’ve adopted the attitude of if I ignore it, it’ll go away. No one is talking about me. Yes people do look but who cares, they don’t know me.
I didn’t have a nap today and I swear that in Chemistry I was on the verge of throwing a tantrum. How am I suppose to concentrate on solutions and oxidation if I can’t keep my eyes open? But my professor is so funny and he always lets us go early. He doesn’t like to be in class any longer than he has to. . . I think that’s because he’s older than black pepper. But it’s Friday and I go home on Fridays. =)
I was so happy to get home. Home to my family and friends, it’s sad to think once I get into clinical I’ll have even less than I do now. Huh. I gotta do what I have to do though. I’m just counting down the days. Until then I am going to go to bed because I am tired and found out that I have therapy in the morning. What a life, what is the use of coming home on a Saturday if you don’t get to sleep in? I guess tomorrow I’ll find out.
Good night everyone
Art? April 5, 2010
Yesterday which means Saturday, my best friend Camille and I went to a book festival. It wasn’t what I expected but that didn’t mean I didn’t’ have a great time. It was at a park downtown and had different vendors selling an array of books some local bookshops and some from self published authors. Others were just trying to get rid of things they had. Ever so often a local author would come up and read thrity minutes from their book. There was also singing and food and an art gallery.
I bought two books, signed up to volunteer for a few organization. I became a member of a few clubs and found others things I liked but knew I would never have time to get into. The art gallery was cool and weird. I like art because doesn’t have to make sense. But it’s weird because then anything can be art, my bed could be a piece of art. My shoes could too. It’s weird, who sets the standard of what art is. There is a artist, I forgot his name but most of his paintings weren’t even paintings or statues they were book covers. How is that considered art? He didn’t do it did he? I don’t know but I just thought it was crazy that someone would pay thousands of dollars for something they could go to the bookstore, pay three dollars for and frame it themselves. But that wasn’t even the weirdest thing, what got me was in one of the rooms there was a dead and stuffed horse. He lay on his side, legs sprailed out and mouth open with a bloated stomach. Inside the stomach there was a sign that about Jesus our King. This shocked me, it confused me too. This was art? This had meaning? What in the world I wondered did a dead and stuffed horse have to do with Jesus?
But that wasn’t his only piece, in another room there were stuffed dogs, they looked so live and friendly and between the two labs was a chicken. . . anyway one of the dogs is looking at you as you round the corner but quickly you learn that he isn’t looking at you he is staring at what is behind you. A woman is nailed to bed inside a crate, her face is hidden in her arm in shame. I think it was shame.
There was another work of his; two men lay side by side in a twin bed together staring up into the ceiling at nothing. I didn’t understand. I mean no they didn’t have to be staring at anything but they had to be looking at something, thinking about something. There had to be a mood there that made the artist put them in that pose but I couldn’t catch it. I didn’t understand and that was so frustrating to me. I stared at that thing for a long while before moving on just as clueless as I had been in the beginning.
The last piece I saw was just as disturbing as the first. Walking outside the building I saw a couple looking up at the roof. Naturally you wonder what are they staring at or at least I did. Up on the roof in the hot sun sat a little drummer boy staring down at us. His sleeves and pants were long his hair was brown and his skin white though it should have been red from the heat. His hands posed over his drum thought his eyes were looking down at it, they stare straight ahead over us and out into the city. It took me a second to realize this wasn’t a child but another twisted piece of art meant to startle the viewer. Disgusted with myself for getting worked up I had to walk away and think about the drummer boy later. I would love to meet the man who designed that piece one day but sadly I don’t think I ever will, he lives in Milan, Italy and his paintings sell for millions of dollars. I doubt he would really care what I think of his work, why should he?
Wonderful February 26, 2010
I sat there for a good five minutes along with several other trembling college students. Finally ten minutes in our dear professor slowly peeks through the door to tell us he has a meeting and class as well as the devil test has been cancelled.
Hallelujah! Thank you Jesus!
I’m not even kidding. I nearly started crying I was so happy.
So with a smile on my lips and the rest my day to contemplate I walk home to share the good news.