Grey Area: Stories of a Girl in the Inbetween

Edited Porfolio

2006-05-22T09:53:00.000-07:00

"Sundays" is now in my portfolio

Edited Portfolio

2006-05-08T09:24:00.000-07:00

Epiphany, Sweet Satisfaction, and Forced Poetry all have been put in semi-manuscript format

Edited Portfolio

2006-04-27T09:41:00.000-07:00

Please switch "Ryan and Nickoli" with "Waffles and Chatty Cathy."

Both "Waffles and Chatty Cathy" and "Ryan and Nickoli" were updated

Thanks

2006-04-17T09:12:00.000-07:00

Thank you for coming to speak to us on Thursday. I found what you told us to be informative, and inspiring. You answered a lot of my questions (quite literally), and I thought it was cool that you spent the time to actually figure out the Capitol Metro bus system to be able to come down here. That is a feat in of itself that many people from here don't even know how to do. I'll definantly keep my eyes open now to find more inspiration.

2006-04-12T09:13:00.000-07:00

Witch-Wife
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.

She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun `tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of coloured beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.

She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.

I like how she is aware the woman isn't hers, yet she speaks of her as if she is. She makes the subect of the poem sound like a doll, made of this thing or that thing "not made for any man" but yet "she never will be all mine." It's short and sweet and to the point, but you can see a much longer story that may lie underneath.

Questions for Eddie

2006-04-11T09:21:00.000-07:00

In the article for your play "Lucky", you mentioned people shouldn't need to put a label on themseves sexually, especially when they're young because they may later have to go back and change that label. How much of this attitude translates into all of your works, if it does appear in everything that you write?

Is there a piece of work that you've started that by the end of it not only was it the story you wanted, but it actually was a decent piece of writing? Was it something that was published?

Where is the one place you suggest that every writer should go at least once to try and gain some inspiration for their works?

Testing out the Template//Temporary Portfolio

2006-03-21T09:26:00.000-08:00

Allison White
This portfolio is to show how creative my writing is.
Section 1 - My best work
The following pieces are three that I have put my blood, sweat, and tears into. I am proud of what they turned out to be, and hope you can see why I am so satisfied with them.

Ryan and Nickoli
Short story about two highschool sweethearts see each other again for the first time at their ten year reunion. Although they have gone through great changes, they begin to find a way to be in each other's lives again.
Lizzy
Short story about a girl's dislike for a nick name, and why that came to be.
Sundays
Non-Fiction short story about my step brother's death and funeral.

Section 2- My Range
This is where I show all my different styles of writing. It'll give insight on why they aren't up in section one.

Waffles and Chatty Cathy
Short screenplay about two friends who exchange stories of their bad mornings, and resolve the issues throughout the day. Co-Writer Emma Murray.
Sweet Satisfaction
Short story about conflict within a relationship.
Epiphany
Short humor piece on everyday realizations.
Forced Poetry
Poem about my views on poetry that must be in a certain form with defined rules.

Section 3- My Process
Here, you'll get to see the painful process some of my pieces of work have to go through before I'm happy with them. In this case, it is also one of the stories I think is one of my bests, Lizzy.

Lizzy-
Rough Draft
Revision(s) with comments
Final piece
Short essay describing their personal writing process

Overall, I like this template. It makes things easy to find for someone who may be looking. Looking at this, it helped me decide which pieces of work I want out there for somebody to read, and which things will probably be best left to rot right now.

2006-03-06T09:07:00.000-08:00

"Did you ever finish your college essay, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth sighed at the sound of her mother's voice. Barely even two and a half steps out of her bedroom, and was was being bombarded about her future. Putting in the earpieces as she made her way into the kitchen, Elizabeth chose to ignore her mother. They had discussed the used of the name Lizzy and how that would never. Three years later, her mother still ceased to understand.

"Don't ignore your mother," errupted the grumpy lump known as her step father from the couch he usually tried to reign the house from. The white semi circle fell from her right ear, blasting music from some band that she had discovered from Myspace.

"I told you not to call me Lizzy," Elizabeth replied coldly as she went on with unloading the dishwasher. Reaching to replace the earbud so she could drown out the conversation and TV as best as she could possibly manage, a hand caught her wrist.

"Did you send your essay?" her mother demanded. Tugging her arm from her mother's grasp, Elizabeth's cool and indifferent eyes met the ablazed ones infront of her. She tried to ignore the look in her mom's eyes because it only reminded her more why she hated the nick name she insisted on using.

"Let me finish the dishes. You always bitch at me to do them, now I am, and you're not letting me," Thank god her mother chose to ignore the swearing this time.

"Did you send in the essay? I'm only going to ask one more time, Elizabeth, this is your future we're talking about, not just some pipe dream!"

"If you get my acceptance letter," Elizabeth replied softly, "You'll know whether or not if I did. Until then, let me do the dishes ,stop insulting my goals, and don't call me Lizzy." The thought crossed her mind to compare her mother to the man who had left them, and then tried to come back when she was fourteen. Finally having both headphones in place, she went on with her chore.

Three years ago, she was doing the exact same thing, doing the dishes before her parents came home when the phone rang. Without question, Elizabeth picked it up, speaking with whoever felt the need to call them.

"Lizzy, I'm so glad to speak to you."

"Dad? What...why are you calling?" Elizabeth felt the tears whell up in her eyes, "Where did you go? I-I've missed you."

"I know sweetie...is your mother there?"

Elizabeth shook her head, but quickly remembered her father couldn't see her on the phone, "No, she won't be home for a few hours, why? Are you coming back?" Hope filled Elizabeth's voice as she thought about being able to see him again. The visitation had been so crazy, and there were times where he didn't show up because of other things.

"About that...I was calling to speak to your mother about this, but I guess you're old enough now...I've moved."

"Where?" she asked suddenly, "Is it for work? If it's just your job, maybe I can go with--"

"You can't."

"Why no--" Elizabeth was cut off by the sound of someone in the background. And not just someone but a woman, "Oh," she replied before quickly hanging up the phone, throwing it across the room, flinching at the sound of it breaking apart. Elizabeth sat down against the wall, sliding down as she burst into tears. All her hopes and dreams of her parents getting back together she knew were gone.

Time flew by faster than Elizabeth gave it credit for, and soon heard her mother's rushed footsteps on the floor to her, crouching down to her.

"Lizzy, what's wrong baby?" she asked, reaching for her baby girl. Pulling away violently from the touch, Elizabeth glared at her mother, silent verbally, but she knew something was being communicated, "Lizzy, what...what's wrong, what happened?"

"He's not coming back!" she sobbed, "There's someone else now, and he's not coming back and he's not going to take me...like you promised, you promised he would take me and he won't!" Elizabeth's mother moved to comfort her again, but it was in vain. Getting up quickly, Elizabeth kept out of reach, "Don't call me Lizzy, he calls me Lizzy, and he's not coming back."

Eddie De Oliveira--to invite or not to invite

2006-03-01T09:43:00.000-08:00

Personally, I love Eddie's book "Johnny Hazzard". I felt I could relate to the writing, and that this wasn't just some story, but a really interesting story about someone my own age. It feels real, and it's been a while since I've read a book that's felt real to me.

I definantly think we should invite Eddie to speak. He's so young for a writer, and it would be great insight on how hard you truely have to work to get your stuff out there. I'd like to hear from someone who truely knows how much blood, sweat, and tears they had to put into their project to make it the book I now want my hands on today.

His form of character development is a nice mix of telling and showing. He's definantly there, spelling it out for you, but it peppers it with some showing, so you aren't stuck extremly bored, wondering when some action is going to come along. It blends well, and makes you thirsty for more.

Unfinished first draft.

2006-02-17T09:09:00.000-08:00

Before his baby brother and the marriage, Z thought his step father was really cool. His step father played the father role for him, and it seemed to be a real good situation. That quickly seemed to go away as soon as he had his wife and his baby on the way. Z was no longer important in his eyes. Z was forced to sleep on a seperate floor than the rest of the family, and his step father became controlling over the craziest things.

When Z was seven, he had the sudden urge to sleep on the floor instead of his bed. Feeling the need for permission, he asked his step father. For the simple satisfaction of having control, he told Z not to. Despite this instruction, when it came to be time for bed, Z laid down on the floor and went to sleep.

At one AM the door opened to reveal Z's step father. Being picked up by his wrist, Z awoke suddenly from the force, and had to go through a beating.

2006-02-16T18:08:00.000-08:00

I interviewed my friend "Z" for my narritive. These are his responces.

Questions:

1) Think of a time where you felt a certain emotion for the first time. What was it, and how do you think it affected you?

Anger or Shock. When I was seven, I wanted to sleep on the floor. I asked my step father if I could, but he told me no. I did so anyway, and at one in the morning he came in and started to beat me.

2) Without that expereience, what type of person do you think you would be today?

I think I would be weaker. Without that happening, I wouldn't have any strength, and I wouldn't be able to stand up for myself at all.

3) Is there anything you wish to accomplish in this lifetime that you're afraid you won't be able to do? Why do you feel that way?

Back handsprings or backflips. It was scary and weird going backwards. I was always afraid I would break my neck.

4) What is the one thing you want the world to know about you? How would you want to get the message across?

That I'm complicated. I'd get the message across by...being complicated.

5) If you were to die tomorrow, how would you want to die?

I've always wanted to commit suicide by drowning in a bathtub full of quicksilver, so then when someone discovered my body, they would go crazy from the fumes. If it was a murder, being hit by a meteor or an alien space ship.

6) Do you believe in destiny? What do you think yours has in store for you if you do? Why do you think people believe in them so heavily if you don't?

I would say I believe in destiny, but at the moment, I'm unsure of what it has instore for me.

7) If given the choice, would you rather live in ignorant bliss, unaware of the corruption around you, or in miserable clarity, seeing everything for what it really is?

Miserable Clarity. I hate being lies and being lied to. I like to see everything for what it is. I feel that knowledge is more important than happiness.

8) What is your ideal life? What would you look like? Sound like? Act like? What would you do for a living, and what would be your marital status?

I'd have to say a boyfriend and more money. I basically have my ideal life right now. I moved out so I could have control of everything.

9) What is a bigger insult to you; Being ignored by your peers, or not getting the credit you deserved from society?

Ignored by my peers would be a bigger insult to me.

10) Do you feel like that in the end your life will matter? If so, to how many people?

I think I'll matter to a small amount, but how broad view not so much. Exact about is to be announced.

11) Did these questions make you think about certain aspects of yourself that you weren't aware of? Why do you think you have either never explored it before, or choose not to do so often or better?

I'm currently in the middle of a whole bunch of intense emotions and soul searching, so I'm pretty much covering it all right now.

Personal Vignette

2006-02-13T09:08:00.000-08:00

Being sixteen is difficult for any girl, but being sixteen with a secret that could potentially tear up the relationship that a girl has with anyone and everyone is almost devistatingly hard. I had discovered something was different about myself at twelve, hanging out with influential girls, talk about and doing things that made parents cringe. Alot like that movie "Thirteen" but without the piercings and the drinking and the drugs. By fourteen I was pretty much sure of who I was, and now at the age of 16, friends of mine were coming out, and the fire was beginning to rise beneath my feet to follow them out of the closet. It ate at me inside that my mother didn't know something so important to who I was. Earlier in the summer I already had cut myself in frustration of keeping things bottled inside of me. I knew I would have to do it soon before I suffered some other form of punishment for not being honest.

For weeks I felt the worlds bubbling on my tongue, waiting for me to let them escape and to let my mother know that her pride and joy was infact into other girls, but each time they also came out I found something else to focus on-the song on the radio, the car that passed by, whatever topic my mom brought up instead of what I wanted to say. At one point, the window of opportunity seemed wide open since my dad was supposed to go out with friends, but when his plans failed, so did mine.

I seeked solace in a website meant for gay teens, often keeping it buried beneath other windows, because what a way to be outed? I suspected she knew-both about the website, and about me-and I began to try and hide it. Always talking about boys, and how I liked them oh so much. Looking back on it, I would have been better off just being myself. Ofcourse there were close calls, and fears that I wasn't doing a good job, but nothing was brought up, so I felt it was still safe.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. On the way to driver's ed, as my mother turned from the neighborhood onto a main road, and I felt the words explode from me.

"Mom, I'm bi,"

Turning down the volume, she made me repeat it, and with her comment that it didn't really matter to her, I fell into an uncomfortable silence and ackward conversation. So much time spent on how to say it and when, and it was turned into something she didn't really care about, or so I thought. My mind raced on why she wouldn't care about it, it was something abnormal, why was she fine with an abnormality? But it was normal, very normal, especially for kids my age. In some cases, this was a bit late for me to realise this in me.

As I complained to friends about my mother's dismissal, I soon noticed her beside me. Stopping conversations, and pausing the music on my headphones I turned to her. I half expected to be told I needed to do the dishes, or that guests were coming over soon, so I needed to pick up the bathroom, so I awaited her words with a nonchalant look of "whatever, Mom."

"About what you told me earlier in the car," she began. I felt my stomach twist, and two beings sitting on my sholders, one being the raging bull dyke one assumes all lesbians are, the other, the perfectly sweet straight girl who would never think of another woman in such ways as men do. Hushing the fears of what she was going to tell me, I listened on, "I didn't mean to make it sound like I didn't care, I just wanted to let you know that you being that way is as indifferent to me as you telling me you like the color blue over green. I wanted you to know that I am glad you trusted me with this information, and that I will always love you."

Tears stung my eyes and a smile smeared across my face as I teased that she was making me cry before hugging her. I was honest, I was who I was meant to be, and my mom not only knew about it, she accepted me for it.

My Interview Questions

2006-02-02T09:06:00.000-08:00

I am unsure on who I will be interviewing at this point. I'm hoping it is someone I can actually gain some insight on, and I have a few people in mind. If I get my ideal person, they will be a stranger to me because I just met them this week. I actually came up with 11 questions, but I'm not sure I will use them all.

Questions:

1) Think of a time where you felt a certain emotion for the first time. What was it, and how do you think it affected you?

2) Without that expereience, what type of person do you think you would be today?

3) Is there anything you wish to accomplish in this lifetime that you're afraid you won't be able to do? Why do you feel that way?

4) What is the one thing you want the world to know about you? How would you want to get the message across?

5) If you were to die tomorrow, how would you want to die?

6) Do you believe in destiny? What do you think yours has in store for you if you do? Why do you think people believe in them so heavily if you don't?

7) If given the choice, would you rather live in ignorant bliss, unaware of the corruption around you, or in miserable clarity, seeing everything for what it really is?

8) What is your ideal life? What would you look like? Sound like? Act like? What would you do for a living, and what would be your marital status?

9) What is a bigger insult to you; Being ignored by your peers, or not getting the credit you deserved from society?

10) Do you feel like that in the end your life will matter? If so, to how many people?

11) Did these questions make you think about certain aspects of yourself that you weren't aware of? Why do you think you have either never explored it before, or choose not to do so often or better?

18 and counting.

2006-01-23T09:11:00.000-08:00

Walk in the door,
I.D.
Set it down,
write it out,
Initials.
Wait a while,
wait a bit more,
Come in now.
Sit on the edge,
dangle in the limbo,
close your eyes.
Pain comes fast,
hurry up and leave,
Latex and one, two, three,
it rests while I wait.
There, you're done,
look in a mirror,
shiny metal against the creamy carmel skin.

Little Willie Poem

2006-01-18T09:44:00.000-08:00

Late last night a man killed his wife
By stabbing her a bunch with a knife.
He said he was sorry as they took him to jail.
I guess he prefers death than seeing his marriage fail.

Little Willie's prove to be a bit tougher than the mere couplet. Luckily it contained couplets, so the form was easy, but it was the message that had to be put across. It was mentioned that this style is commonly seen in today's music in the form of rap, used to cut people down that the person who is singing/speaking does not like. This poem structure is often used as a form of mudslinging.

Couplet Poem

2006-01-18T09:38:00.000-08:00

I’m not one with the greatest luck,
But 2005 really did suck.
Family, Teachers, and Friends all around,
I put too many people I love into the ground.
I told my father to leave me be,
Just for my step dad to become a bigger ass to me.
Anti-Depressants the doctor gave,
To my mother as I inwardly caved.
Praised that a year had gone by with no self inflicted harm,
I had the hardest time keeping a knife from my arm.
17 years old, my life fell apart,
Maybe at 18 I’ll get a new start

Couplets are the basis of alot of poems, so to write a poem of just couplets was rather easy. As a writer, the only thing I found hard was trying to find rhyming words, although they didn't have to be, I wanted some rhythm. Sometimes using rhyme can make a poem sound childish, but if you stick with WHAT the poem is saying, it can help the message along quite well. I have no problems with this form, and find it to be the easiest since all it truely requires is two lines to make a stanza that don't have to rhyme, but more than likely they do. There is no maximum amount of lines you can do, no determined amount of syllables.

2006-01-09T09:27:00.000-08:00

In the circus of clarity the spirits gaze,
They cough and choke on a purple haze.
They giggle and laugh at the insanity of sobriety,
The spirits praise the intoxicated members of society.

Forced Poetry

2006-01-09T09:06:00.000-08:00

I think that
forced poetry is the worst poetry
it doesn't flow freely off the page,
feeling fanciful as it floats around.
I think that
forced poetry patronizes the
poet, places them someplace painful
and pessimistic.
I think that
forced poetry can turn malicious
and mocking, molding mechanical
matter-of-fact meanings into
miserable mopping maple leaves.
I think that
forced poetry will come out
outwardly candid and carefree
but inwardly is cold, callous,
condescending, curving confused comics
into cynical, cryptic, critics.
I think that
forced poetry is restrained and ridiculing,
reflective of the rude
writer inside.
I think that
forced poetry can be shocking
with its sincere simplicity as
it slips sinister sleepy solemn
thoughts into an unknowing
cerebelum.
I think that
forced poetry is desperate for
emotion, deriving its euphoric
displacement from eroding dandilions
that dance erratcally in the wind.
I think that
forced poetry is hopeful as it
looks for loving, lyrical words to
form it, to give itself a playful,
poem shape.
I think that
forced poetry is optimism in a
pessimistic world- it makes the day
brighter, but it won't help the overall
lampshade of night.
I think that
forced poetry is ridiculous,
secretive, frantic, earnest, hostile
attempts at forcing art out of
apathetic air.

Final Option # 1

2005-12-01T09:45:00.000-08:00

http://www.austinchronicle.com/issues/dispatch/2005-02-18/books_set6.html

This story, Worthy Stories, although it only placed third last year, struck me. I think part of it had to do with the fact that from the beginning I understood who the characters were. Everyone had a name, and a visible personality so you could stop focusing on who was that to get to the actual meat of the story. Although you are never given a name for the narrator, you don't really feel the need to know her. I became enthralled with Zhenya just as the narrator seemed to be, wanting to know about all of the "worthy stories" you're promised in the beginning.

The conflict appears to be the narrator's want to be like Zhenya while still being content that she is who she simply is. She is a writer whose "obvious stories written [are] by an obvious girl," while Zhenya has "dozens of worthy stories" to tell. I liked how the story was about a writer, not a soon to be mother, not some guy who is willing to pay his friend for who knows what sort of thing, but a writer who wishes she was better, which is something I identifed with on the spot. Sure the plot is just about how she admires the girl who wants to marry her brother just so she could stay in America with him, and the stories she has, but it means more to me in a way I can't seem to explain. This story was an easy read while still leaving you guessing, which made it the most enjoyable for me.

Easy Way Out

2005-11-21T09:52:00.000-08:00

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/4454738.stm

I found that randomly, I thought I would share.

Grape Juice Girl

2005-11-21T09:29:00.000-08:00

Grape Juice Girl.

Sitting on a porch swing,

sipping from a sippy cup,

waiting for what the new day brings,

Grape Juice Girl.

Crayons scattered all around,

coloring in her color book,

Purple is the color of her world,

Grape Juice Girl.

gotten too old for the sippy cup,

hell, now she can't just give it up,

dreaming of herself college bound,

Grape Juice Girl.

sitting on a porch swing,

damn, she has all the luck,

waiting for what the next generation has to bring.

Announcement

2005-11-17T09:46:00.000-08:00

Most, if not all of the things I write are false. If something is true, I will make sure to post if that it is. I use first person alot because I find it easier to write. The narrator is not always the writer themselves.

--Ally

Top Ten list with three examples

2005-11-17T09:37:00.000-08:00

I would write something witty here before you went off to read these, but I figured it wouldn't be funny to make a joke about funny things.

Threading a theme through the text.

Contrast what should be with the obviously deficient reality

Murphy’s Laws for Kids
The more you hate spinach, the more likely it is you will have it for dinner.
The more you need to go potty, the harder it is to get your pants down.
If you miss the school bus, it will always be on the day of a field trip or party.
If you spill your milk, the dumb dog won’t lick it up no matter what you promise.
If you use the sofa for a trampoline, you will forget about your muddy tennis shoes until later.
If you have a helium birthday balloon, it will get caught in the ceiling fan.
The more unbreakable a toy is supposed to be, the sooner you will break it.
The harder you try to hide something behind your back, the more likely mom will know.
If you forget to put something away, it will be the carton of ice cream.
The more you try to sit still in church, the more your underwear scratches.
When you have to do you homework before going outside, you will invariably get stuck on the last problem.
The more you try to hurry while getting dressed, the greater the probability that you can’t find socks without holes.
If you kick anything under the bed to hide it, the cat will be sleeping there.
If you remember to wash your hands before eating, the dog will lick you on the mouth.
The more relatives your have in the audience at the school play, the greater the liklihood of forgetting your lines.
If you remember to turn out the lights in the basement, dad will be downstairs.
If you try to flush the goldfish, the toilet will clog and run over.
The more parts a game has, the greater the likelihood that it will get spilled.
Snack food is always on the highest kitchen shelf instead of in the bottom cabinet.
The more you want to go outside and play, the longer it takes to clean your room.
The newer your shoes are, the more rain puddles you will see to tempt you.
If you wake up with a stomachache and fever, it will always be on Saturday.
If Murphy were a kid, he would lose his lunch money.

Build on a ridiculous notion

Mock a public figure

Act like a clown

The heckler

Hurry Up!
Why are we in such a hurry? Would the world really end if we got where we are going 10 minutes later? If it would, couldn't we just leave 10 minutes sooner?
This week I had occasion to travel by plane and watch people - people in a great hurry. They arrive at the airport and are immediately greeted by a line to check their luggage. Because people are so impatient, there is also a line at curbside to check luggage easier and, of course, faster. In this line, there is a charge (okay, "tip") involved, but it is worth it if you are in a hurry to get to the gate and don't want to stop at the ticket counter and stand in one of those time gobbling lines.After finally getting rid of the luggage, it's off to the concourse to find the departing gate. Some people are so impatient, they don't even check baggage at all, but drag it behind them on wheels. "Saves time," they say. "Don't have to wait to get your baggage when you get off." Also, "Don't have to worry about the airlines losing it," a really, big, super-duper time consumer.
So there they go, dragging suitcases on wheels, up ramps, down ramps, over moving sidewalks, up escalators, and down escalators, really saving a great deal of time. If we could collect all the time saved at airports, we could probably extend the end of the world by billions of years!Next comes that horrible time consuming obstacle - the metal detector. Valuable seconds are lost poking purses and luggage thru the conveyor belt. And if spare change or a belt buckle sets off the alarm... Wow! Forget it! The hurried passenger becomes a hostage of the airport security guards for five or more minutes, at least, before being fleeced enough to satisfy the metal detector and security guards that there is no madman with a firearm intent on hijacking the plane.Passing inspection, passengers are free to proceed... and proceed... and proceed... Seems like they will never get there. Why do airports always make the gates for impatient people the last gate at the end of the concourse? It's almost as if they know who is impatient and planned the delay as a cruel joke!
At last, the correct gate is found, and another wait begins. People fidget, they read, they use cell phones, laptop computers, or watch TV, if there is one. Why doesn't the plane get here? Don't airlines know people are in a hurry? Why do they think people fly?
At last the attendants come out. Before they can announce the flight, the suitcase people, who were in too big a hurry to check in at the ticket counter, begin to line up. After all, people in a hurry need to be first!Finally, boarding begins and chaos evokes. Never mind that seats are assigned. People cannot wait, they stand by eagerly waiting for their row to be called so they can rush on the plane. Some don't wait, but cut ahead of others before their row is even called.
On the plane all the aisles are blocked by the early boarders who, of course, have wheeled luggage and are trying to put it in overhead compartments. The other people, who are also in a hurry, are very annoyed by not being able to get to their own seat and put their own wheeled luggage overhead.
Should the flight be delayed in taking off for a few minutes, people begin to fidget, murmur, and look at watches, sure they will never make their connection on time. At the end of the flight, they are out of their seat belts and in the aisles before the plane can stop taxing. Bags are jerked from overhead compartments and impatience evokes until the door is finally opened and the hurry-up people run from the plane pulling their wheels behind them. Yes, it really is too bad there is no way to collect up all the time saved at airports. We could dole it out to the impatient, luggage pulling passengers along with their airline tickets and give them all sorts of time to board.
Guess it wouldn't work, though. They would want to save it in a "frequent time-flies plan" and get preferred seating - ahead of everyone else, naturally.

Give human characteristics to non-humans

Leadership secrets from foreign penguins
Penguins show how leadership by example works
by David Leonhardt
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There's a brand new fitness program at the San Francisco Zoo – a program that sort of just took off on its own without any goals or leadership from the zookeeper. This fitness program is for the birds, but it carries a leadership lesson for all of us.
The birds are penguins. Penguins are supposed to swim. In fact, 46 penguins at the San Francisco zoo have been taking regular dips in the pool to cool off and keep their feathers sleek. Ah, ain't life grand. Lie around, eat, swim, rest, eat, swim, relax, eat, swim.
Until six "bodybuilder" penguins moved in from Ohio. The newcomers jumped into the pool and swam. And swam. And swam. In fact, those six penguins kept swimming laps all day long. Day after day. They must have been using a very effective antiperspirant.
The newcomers would start early in the morning and keep swimming in circles until they would "stagger" out of the pool at dusk. What is most amazing, though, is that the six penguins have convinced the other 46 to join them. Hitherto "society" penguins are now swimming the whole day through like commoners.
What is the secret to the Ohio penguins' success ? I don't speak "penguin" very well, but I think I overheard the following conversation:
"C'mon, what are you, a penguin or a rock?"
"Why, I'm a penguin, of course."
"You don't look like a penguin. All you do is sit around like a rock."
"That's not true. I swim ... sometimes."
"Ha! A true penguin swims all day long. Pepperoni!" SPLASH!!
"Hey. I'm a real penguin, too."
"Who you shouting at, Percy?"
"That swimmer with too much adrenaline in his feathers. He says I'm not a real penguin because I don't eggplant enough."
"Oh, yeah? We'll show him, won't we, Percy?"
"You bet! Uh, how?"
"By out-swimming the showoff penguins." SPLASH!!"
"Oh, oh. I guess I better get swimming right creamy teacups." SPLASH!!
Foreign penguins show their leadership and their penguinhood
OK, so I may be a little off on my translation, but somehow those six penguins changed the entire lifestyle habits of the other 46. The zookeeper is reported by the wire service to have said, "We've completely lost control." The wire story quotes an aquatic biologist as saying she would be more surprised if the six had taught the other 46 how to jump through hoops – something few penguins do in the wild with any success.
The point is not that the 46 penguins have learned to swim, which they had always been doing as a leisurely pastime, but that they are now in full aquatic stampede mode ... and that they were convinced by the other six to change their entire lifestyle. How did the six penguins do it?
Well, I was suspicious about penguins that come from Ohio. Everyone knows that penguins come from Antarctica. Last I could recall, Ohio was nowhere near Antarctica. Sure, it's cold in Ohio this time of year, but not THAT cold. My atlas confirmed that Ohio is indeed still in the United States, not in Antarctica, meaning that these penguins were foreigners, perhaps victims of persecution – refugees from their homeland.
So these foreign penguins have come in and motivated the local penguins to live up to their full ... ah ... penguinhood. What an accomplishment! What success! And what great leadership lessons we can learn from this.
Lesson number one: don't be afraid to try new things and accept outside influences.
Lesson number two: be a penguin not a rock (unless, of course, you are a rock).
And lesson number three: don't give up. If six penguins can whip 46 homebodies into shape, imagine how you could kick-start your own fitness program (or any other goal you set your mind to.)
But don't count on learning success from penguins. Get the Science of Success, not written by penguins.

Build laughs upon laugh

Give silly names to things

Funny faces and weird sounds

Random Quotes I hear in this class

2005-11-16T09:36:00.000-08:00

"It's an oldie, but goldie!"-Seth

"I don't want to be acredited with it, but I don't want you to take all the credit. You can make up a name for me,"

"I know! You can be 'Anonymous Murray'!"-Myself & Emma

"I can't wait for Christmas, I'm going to explode with happiness!"-Emma

Better Luck Next Time

2005-11-16T09:26:00.000-08:00

I stare at something in the room.

Is it funny?

No, ofcourse not. Nothing in here is funny. Emma is funny. Seth is funny (well, only because he is a smart ass). I guess there are people who are funny, but will people find it funny on paper?

Like, if I wrote the thing about Haiku's not having to rhyme, and the responce from Connolly, I bet nobody would laugh, or if they did, it would be because how stupid it was for me to write about it.

I guess I just did....oops.

I wonder if anyone will find this funny. I doubt it, I'm trying to hard. Damn, better luck next time.