Thursday, January 31, 2013
Tentacle Plunger
A Dozen Ways to Differentiate
12. In school, you do homework. In college, you study.
11. In school, you wear your backpack on one shoulder; in college, on both. 10. In college, the professors can tell you the answer without looking at the teacher's guide. 09. In school, you're told what classes to take. In college, you get to choose; that is, as long as the classes don't conflict and you have the prerequisites and the classes aren't closed and you've paid your tuition. 08. In school, if you mess up you can usually sweet-talk your way out of it. In college, you're lucky to ever talk with the professor. 07. In school, when the teacher said, "Good morning," you mumbled back. In college, when the professor says, "Good morning," you write it down. 06. In college, weekends start on Thursday. 05. In college, it's much more difficult to figure out the course schedule of the man/woman you have a crush on, in order to figure out where he/she will be walking around campus in order to "just happen to bump into him/her." 04. In college, there's no one to tell you not to eat pizza three meals a day. 03. College women are legal. 02. In school, you can't go out to lunch because it's not allowed. In college, you can't go out to lunch because you can't afford it. 01. In college, you can blow off studying by writing lists like this. |
| Contributed by Batchmates member |
Thursday, January 10, 2013
A message from above
I never thought I would be writing about a trip to
the convenient store, but this trip was like no other. It seemed like a
typical November day, two years ago, as I walked out of Walgreens. It
was just a month after my grandmother had passed away and I spent my
days running useless errands hoping to fill the void in my heart
and distract me from the pain.
As I attempted to walk out of the store, I was frustrated by everything that was going on around me which was a very common feeling during this time. I was angry because I couldn’t even remember what I went there to buy so I ended up spending over $20 on nonsense just to waste time and money, both of which I didn’t have.
I was mad and confused at everyone. Especially, the young girl walking through the store holding her grandmother’s hand. The little girl was begging her grandmother for ice cream just like I use to when I was little, before I was old enough to know that there are bigger problems than a lack of sugar. There is heartache and pain in this world. Before I was old enough to understand that one day my grandmother wouldn’t be here with me. “Here is $20 my sweetie,” the woman said, “Keep it for later and well get you some Mr. Softy.”
As I carried on, I remembered all of the times my cousins and I would play outside of my grandma’s house, waiting patiently to hear the sounds of the Mr. Softy truck. The minute we heard it, no matter how far it may have been, we would run inside smothering my grandma with hugs and kisses while begging for some money. No matter how many times she would say, “Remember kids, no ice cream today,” everyday we would ask and every time she would always end up giving each of us exactly $20. Obviously, we all know that ice cream doesn’t cost this much, but that was my grandma, always giving more than she ever had to give.
Who knew that I, an 18 year old, could be jealous of a three-year-old little girl wearing pink slippers and a Dora the Explorer backpack, but I was, because at the end of the day she had something I didn’t have anymore. A grandmother by her side.
I had to force myself to ignore the little girl who others kept calling “cute” and “adorable” when I simply thought she was nothing but obnoxious. She was just too happy for me and that was unacceptable, at this time, in my world.
I continued to the register to pay for my things, none of which I even remembered picking until I placed them on the counter. It was than that my anger quickly shifted from the little girl who seemed to have everything to the cashier who didn’t have anything, not even my change. She had to bring my things to another register which just felt like a waste of time. Everything felt like a waste of my time. When the cashier gave me my change I didn’t say thank you. I didn’t say have a good day. I simply took my change and left.
Feeling exhausted and hopeless, I began walking to my car. Every step seemed draining, and every step was another to survive. As I looked up into the sky I thought about how my grandmother had left me, and my anger began to return. I was outraged by the loss, and my belief in God was beginning to diminish. I couldn’t understand why these things happened. So as I stood in a public parking lot a million questions formed in my mind. Why did this happen to me? Aren’t we supposed to get signs from the people that pass on? Why did I not feel her presence anymore? Is there a heaven?
Suddenly, a woman driving right by my side rolled down her window and distracted my unanswered thoughts. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me,” she said loudly. Thinking she was going to ask for my parking spot, I simply pointed to my car. The thought of having to verbalize where my car was seemed like too much to bear. “No, excuse me,” she said again. At this point, I felt I had no choice but to see what this annoying lady wanted. As I got closer though I was startled-was this my grandmother’s nurse, Adu, who lived with her during her final months? I soon realized that she wasn’t, although the resemblance was uncanny. Then, I realized that this Adu look a like was searching for something in her bag. Surprisingly, I was overcome by a sense a relief that lead me to be patient the entire time the lady was searching. Others would be nervous by a stranger reaching in their bag unanimously, but I wasn’t. Under a clutter of makeup, money, pens, and other belongings, she finally reached to the very bottom of her bag and handed me a three page booklet. “It looks like you need this,” she said calmly with a warm smile on her face.
I looked down at the mysterious and obviously used pamphlet and on the front cover in big bold letters read “What Hope for Dead Loved Ones?”
It took me only a few seconds to comprehend the exchange with this woman, but by the time I looked up, she was gone.
I walked slowly into my car gripping the tiny little book that was given to me with fear that it would fly away in the wind. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but I knew that if my grandmother had anything to do with this that I didn’t want to let it go.
I felt a sense of relaxation as I opened the first page. It explained how people pass on, but their spirit remains with us. This was the first time since my grandma had passed that I felt her with me, just like I had wanted. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I did know that I finally felt happiness from the surprising change in events.
I couldn’t, and still can’t, believe what had happened to me on that day. I don’t remember the specific details that you usually hear about like what the person was wearing, the time of day, or even the weather, but it doesn’t matter. It was a random day in November when my life turned back around and I began to feel hope again. It was real. It was a miracle. And, I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.
As I attempted to walk out of the store, I was frustrated by everything that was going on around me which was a very common feeling during this time. I was angry because I couldn’t even remember what I went there to buy so I ended up spending over $20 on nonsense just to waste time and money, both of which I didn’t have.
I was mad and confused at everyone. Especially, the young girl walking through the store holding her grandmother’s hand. The little girl was begging her grandmother for ice cream just like I use to when I was little, before I was old enough to know that there are bigger problems than a lack of sugar. There is heartache and pain in this world. Before I was old enough to understand that one day my grandmother wouldn’t be here with me. “Here is $20 my sweetie,” the woman said, “Keep it for later and well get you some Mr. Softy.”
As I carried on, I remembered all of the times my cousins and I would play outside of my grandma’s house, waiting patiently to hear the sounds of the Mr. Softy truck. The minute we heard it, no matter how far it may have been, we would run inside smothering my grandma with hugs and kisses while begging for some money. No matter how many times she would say, “Remember kids, no ice cream today,” everyday we would ask and every time she would always end up giving each of us exactly $20. Obviously, we all know that ice cream doesn’t cost this much, but that was my grandma, always giving more than she ever had to give.
Who knew that I, an 18 year old, could be jealous of a three-year-old little girl wearing pink slippers and a Dora the Explorer backpack, but I was, because at the end of the day she had something I didn’t have anymore. A grandmother by her side.
I had to force myself to ignore the little girl who others kept calling “cute” and “adorable” when I simply thought she was nothing but obnoxious. She was just too happy for me and that was unacceptable, at this time, in my world.
I continued to the register to pay for my things, none of which I even remembered picking until I placed them on the counter. It was than that my anger quickly shifted from the little girl who seemed to have everything to the cashier who didn’t have anything, not even my change. She had to bring my things to another register which just felt like a waste of time. Everything felt like a waste of my time. When the cashier gave me my change I didn’t say thank you. I didn’t say have a good day. I simply took my change and left.
Feeling exhausted and hopeless, I began walking to my car. Every step seemed draining, and every step was another to survive. As I looked up into the sky I thought about how my grandmother had left me, and my anger began to return. I was outraged by the loss, and my belief in God was beginning to diminish. I couldn’t understand why these things happened. So as I stood in a public parking lot a million questions formed in my mind. Why did this happen to me? Aren’t we supposed to get signs from the people that pass on? Why did I not feel her presence anymore? Is there a heaven?
Suddenly, a woman driving right by my side rolled down her window and distracted my unanswered thoughts. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me,” she said loudly. Thinking she was going to ask for my parking spot, I simply pointed to my car. The thought of having to verbalize where my car was seemed like too much to bear. “No, excuse me,” she said again. At this point, I felt I had no choice but to see what this annoying lady wanted. As I got closer though I was startled-was this my grandmother’s nurse, Adu, who lived with her during her final months? I soon realized that she wasn’t, although the resemblance was uncanny. Then, I realized that this Adu look a like was searching for something in her bag. Surprisingly, I was overcome by a sense a relief that lead me to be patient the entire time the lady was searching. Others would be nervous by a stranger reaching in their bag unanimously, but I wasn’t. Under a clutter of makeup, money, pens, and other belongings, she finally reached to the very bottom of her bag and handed me a three page booklet. “It looks like you need this,” she said calmly with a warm smile on her face.
I looked down at the mysterious and obviously used pamphlet and on the front cover in big bold letters read “What Hope for Dead Loved Ones?”
It took me only a few seconds to comprehend the exchange with this woman, but by the time I looked up, she was gone.
I walked slowly into my car gripping the tiny little book that was given to me with fear that it would fly away in the wind. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but I knew that if my grandmother had anything to do with this that I didn’t want to let it go.
I felt a sense of relaxation as I opened the first page. It explained how people pass on, but their spirit remains with us. This was the first time since my grandma had passed that I felt her with me, just like I had wanted. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I did know that I finally felt happiness from the surprising change in events.
I couldn’t, and still can’t, believe what had happened to me on that day. I don’t remember the specific details that you usually hear about like what the person was wearing, the time of day, or even the weather, but it doesn’t matter. It was a random day in November when my life turned back around and I began to feel hope again. It was real. It was a miracle. And, I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.
Story by visitor: Jessica Correale
Thursday, January 3, 2013
That little girl
Have you ever not wanted to do something so badly that you would
rather die than go? Well that’s how I felt about joining Madcaps and
volunteering at Saint Vincent De Paul Homeless shelter.
But now I believe that you should have an open mind to things because in the end you might just end up enjoying it.
“It’s a waste of time”, I said when my mom told I had to join Madcaps, a mothers and daughters club assisting philanthropies, and then when she told me I had to volunteer at a homeless shelter I thought this just could not get worse.
We got there late, of course, and walked to the dirty homeless shelter, where we saw a lady yelling at the security guard. He dealt with her and then lead us to the kitchen where we ran into my five fellow Madcaps class of 2017 mothers and daughters. Since I’m usually so socially awkward I had met only one person at the pool party, earlier this year. I looked around for her but she was not there. Damn, I was alone!
When the head of the kitchen came out and asked for 3 mothers to work outside the kitchen to clean up the plates and silverware, my mom just so happened to volunteer, leaving me to serve food with people I had never met before.
Soon the homeless families started to walk in and a little girl, around 5 years old, walked up and pointed to the food I was handing out. I handed her the cold sandwich, wrapped in the sticky plastic, she nodded in a form of saying thanks, and then walked to join her family at the large table.
As she walked away I thought of how much I had. I get to go to one of the top schools in San Diego, I have a great house by the water, and I have a warm meal every night. Then I thought of how little she had. She probably didn’t go to school, and this is where she sleeps and eats every day. It took that little girl to make me realize just how lucky I am.
After that moment I had a change of heart. Now, I love Madcaps and don’t miss one meeting, I have gotten over being socially awkward and now have many friends, who I hang out with on a regular basis. And this year I am sure I will do more than the required 20 hours of philanthropies.
I believe that if you have an open mind about things you can learn a lot about yourself and the people in your community, you can make new friends and realize just how lucky you are. I believe that if you have an open mind to things you can accomplish more and become a better rounded person. I believe you can make a difference just by doing one thing you don’t want to do.
But now I believe that you should have an open mind to things because in the end you might just end up enjoying it.
“It’s a waste of time”, I said when my mom told I had to join Madcaps, a mothers and daughters club assisting philanthropies, and then when she told me I had to volunteer at a homeless shelter I thought this just could not get worse.
We got there late, of course, and walked to the dirty homeless shelter, where we saw a lady yelling at the security guard. He dealt with her and then lead us to the kitchen where we ran into my five fellow Madcaps class of 2017 mothers and daughters. Since I’m usually so socially awkward I had met only one person at the pool party, earlier this year. I looked around for her but she was not there. Damn, I was alone!
When the head of the kitchen came out and asked for 3 mothers to work outside the kitchen to clean up the plates and silverware, my mom just so happened to volunteer, leaving me to serve food with people I had never met before.
Soon the homeless families started to walk in and a little girl, around 5 years old, walked up and pointed to the food I was handing out. I handed her the cold sandwich, wrapped in the sticky plastic, she nodded in a form of saying thanks, and then walked to join her family at the large table.
As she walked away I thought of how much I had. I get to go to one of the top schools in San Diego, I have a great house by the water, and I have a warm meal every night. Then I thought of how little she had. She probably didn’t go to school, and this is where she sleeps and eats every day. It took that little girl to make me realize just how lucky I am.
After that moment I had a change of heart. Now, I love Madcaps and don’t miss one meeting, I have gotten over being socially awkward and now have many friends, who I hang out with on a regular basis. And this year I am sure I will do more than the required 20 hours of philanthropies.
I believe that if you have an open mind about things you can learn a lot about yourself and the people in your community, you can make new friends and realize just how lucky you are. I believe that if you have an open mind to things you can accomplish more and become a better rounded person. I believe you can make a difference just by doing one thing you don’t want to do.
Story by visitor: Aly Arrington
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