Darkness

Some people are afraid of the dark. They find it creepy, believing that anything could hide in the shadows. They shiver at each loud noise that rings through the blackness, and jump at every slight breeze. They turn on all of the lights and close the blinds so the outside darkness doesn't creep in. Other people aren't afraid of the dark. They don't mind being sent to the basement to retrieve something in the dark. They can walk during the night without being on edge. In fact, they might even enjoy night walks, looking up at the stars. The last group of people is composed of those who are both or indifferent. This is the category I usually fall into. I say usually because after watching a horror movie, I am definitely scared of the dark. I recently watched a scary movie, and I was surprised to find my throat going dry as I had to walk a short distance in the night. I was tense and if someone had startled me, I'm sure I would have screamed. I fumbled with my car keys and suddenly, turning on the lights in my van seemed like the most important mission of my life. I practically threw myself into the car and immediately snapped the lights on. But usually, I don't mind the dark too much.

Asthma Attacks

Asthma attacks are, first of all, pretty freaky. Your throat tightens as if a hand has curled around your windpipe. The frantic breath you try to take in is stopped instantly. It is as if your lungs simply do not have enough room to allow more air inside. You lift a hand to your neck, as if doing so will somehow fix everything. The fingers you press against your trachea change nothing. Your inhales still are forced to an abrupt stop at the back of your throat. You finally get a breath in, but the oxygen flows down to your lungs too suddenly and too thickly, sending you into a spasm of coughing. Choking on the air you had, just seconds ago, begged for, you struggle to regain control of yourself. Hacking and focusing on simply GETTING IN A BREATH, you scrabble for your inhaler and spray it down your throat. Eventually, you can reign in a controlled breath. The attack has left you weary and has scraped your throat raw. Clutching the inhaler, you swear to never take breathing for granted again. Of course, you forget about that vow soon after. That is, until the next asthma attack.

Cast

My brother broke his arm last week. He was riding a scooter and fell. At first, we all assumed that he was fine. But it soon became clear that he was not. He went pale and began to sweat, even though he was shivering. My dad gave him some ice and I wrapped him in a blanket. My mom came home and took him to the hospital. I stayed up late doing homework, and got the news at just past midnight that he had broken his arm. A hairline fracture. He needed a cast, and was not happy about it. This meant he had to miss the tennis championships in gym, and maybe even part of the Nordic Skiing season. The blue cast was much harder than I had expected. It was stiff and uncompromising, refusing to respond to even the hardest amount of pressure. Within a day, it was filled with black signatures. Many of which belonged to sympathetic girls. My brother gave me a smug smile as I read off all their names. I could tell what he was thinking. Maybe the cast wasn't so bad after all...

Drama

The Drama Team from my church performed this morning at Delano Evangelical Free Church. It was an awesome experience! First, my boyfriend and another drama member performed a skit that made us all laugh so hard we cried. Then, two of my other friends acted out a scenario that helped all of the audience see how we can be blind to what is right in front of us. After that, my friend gave her testimony. She was nervous; I could tell. But she nailed it! Our next performance was a human video, which is like a skit without words. This particular human video is incredibly powerful. It takes a lot out of everyone who performs in it, but it is all worth it! At the end, where some of the actors are thrown to the ground, I flew into the stage, landed on my friend's leg, and proceeded to have a small asthma attack. But we weren't supposed to move. So I stayed where I was, frantically picturing my inhaler. It was downstairs in my purse. If I could just slip out and grab it...I didn't move. Well, not on purpose anyways! I was shaking like a leaf! Luckily, I was able to catch my breath before the next skit, which I performed with two other members. The day was amazing! The people there were all welcoming and kind, and they seemed very excited to have us. I couldn't tell them enough that it was US who should be thankful. They had given us the opportunity to perform, and that opportunity had become a great experience!

Interviewing

As my friend and I prepare to begin our interviews for our ethnography, we exchange a nervous glance. Neither one of us is very outgoing, and to make matters more difficult, we aren't even sure if the people we are planning on interviewing speak English. I glance back down at my red jot book and grip my pencil tightly. It's now or never. We both give shaky laughs, spring up from our seats, and resolve to dive into an interview before we chicken out. We approach our first victim, a teenage customer. She smiles and seems very willing to participate in our interview. After a few questions, I feel a bit of tension ease. That wasn't so bad! Our next interview goes by just as smoothly, and I begin feel slightly embarrassed for having ever been nervous in the first place. Finally, we have completed our last interview. Each person we approached was kind and politely participated, answering all of our English questions easily. Why was I ever even the slightest bit tense? I had underestimated the willingness of these people to help us. We ease back into our seats. I shake my head at myself, laughing at myself. What had I been expecting?

Halloween

Little ghost, goblins, and ghouls pound up to the door, their costumes illuminated in the single glowing streetlight. Pumpkins line the streets, flickering candles shining through the holes of their eyes. Candy is poured into huge bowls and then scooped into waiting bags. "Trick or Treat!" Some neighbors eye the children outside of their door suspiciously- they could have sworn they had seen these same kids earlier that night... Decorations hang from trees and swivel in the breeze, casting strange shadows. Black cats and flapping bats adorn the windows of many homes. Some children screech as each small sound in the night startles them. Other children just roll their eyes and plunge on to the next house for more candy. Their bags are weighed down with chocolate and pixie stix. But its a burden they are more than willing to carry. Doorbells ring incessantly and expectant faces wait for the handful of candy they know is soon to come. Usually, the cold bites through even the thickest of costumes. After all, we do live in Minnesota. And it isn't too terribly unusual to have a Halloween with snow.

Trend Paper Practice

Jorge slid his drivers license back into his leather wallet, frowning as he did so. This had been the third time this month that he had been pulled over and asked for proof of citizenship. Jorge had been born in Arizona and had lived there all of his life, and was a completely legal American citizen. However, his clearly evident Mexican heritage had caused people to look at him with suspicion for many years. Many Americans are beginning to become increasingly negative towards the Mexican American population. This negative attitude affects not only the Mexican Americans, but also American as a whole. America is-and always has been-a mixture of different cultures and ethnicities blended together. In fact, our country is often called 'The Melting Pot' in reference to these different groups. Yet some people are not exactly always proud of this title. They are disillusioned with the high amounts of immigrants that flood into America each year. What is the cause of this disillusionment? Many different things. Mainly, the media. As the news shows reports of the rising costs of immigration, how immigrants are stealing the jobs of American citizens, and illegal immigrants, many people begin to develop a bias against immigration. They are swayed by the media, and they let it shape their beliefs, causing Mexican Americans and our country to suffer.

Singing

Does anybody else sing to themselves in the car? I was doing that last night as I was driving home from my church small group. I had the radio turned up pretty loud and I was singing probably even louder...maybe even with a tiny bit of dancing. I pulled up to a red light and happened to look at the car next to me. It was two of my friends who had also been coming from small group. They were watching my antics and laughing. I paused, grinning back at them as I felt my face flush and turn bright red. With a quick wave, I speed ahead of them as the light glared green, laughing to myself the whole way home. The music blared on, but I was laughing too hard to manage to enunciate any of the words. I breathlessly clutched the wheel, making sure I didn't close my eyes from the force of my laughter. I could see the car my friends were in behind me, and that only made me laugh harder. Maybe it was an after-effect of being tired, but I found the entire situation hilarious, especially due to the fact that we were all going to my house, so when we both pulled into the driveway, we all were still laughing as we slipped out of our vehicles. Maybe it was just exhaustion, because now that I think about it, it really wasn't that funny...

Perkins

Thursday night was Junior Wake-up Call for swimming. We got permission from parents to wake up the juniors on our team and take them to Perkins for breakfast. I was so tired at the restaurant...I lay down on one of the booths and suddenly, the crackling red leather of the seat seemed exceedingly comfortable. My eyes slipped closed and I fell into the oblivion of sleep, which was quickly interrupted as one of my friends poked me. We all stumbled through the day, wanting only to get home and sleep. I, however, decided to go to a church sleepover. And guess what they did? A wake-up call. They woke us up at five in the morning and took us all out to...Perkins. The exact same one, too. This time, I didn't need a booth. I fell asleep right at the table, resting my head on the wood as it pushed imprints into my forehead. When the food came, I couldn't even eat it all. I guess that's another symptom of being tired- you don't feel hungry. So I got one of those take-home boxes and let my brothers devour what was left of my food. I wish I could say that I also caught up on sleep, but unfortunately, that would be a lie. All of it was fun, though, so I suppose I wouldn't trade the experiences for a couple of hours of sleep.

Lack of Sleep

I never really realized how much a lack of sleep can affect a person. Over the past few days, I haven't been getting anywhere near to 8 hours of sleep a night. In fact, last Thursday night, I slept for a grand total of 45 minutes. It was Junior Wake-up call for swimming, so that pretty much eliminated any chance of sleeping. Now, I'm feeling a little less than stellar. When I drive, I see myself drifting out of my lane, but I'm too zoned out to force my hands into the motion of jerking the wheel back into place. When I write, my words become scrambled and mixed together like the fall leaves scattered in my yard. When I speak, I accidentally combine words or forget words in my sentences, effectively making whatever I am saying undecipherable. When I am trying to do my homework, my eyes drift shut before I can catch myself, and I end up in some sort of partial dream state. I wake up confused and disoriented, imagining that this must be how Alice in Wonderland felt as she returned to her own world. That story always bothered me a bit, because it seemed to me that Alice was slightly insane. I guess when I start seeing rabbits with watches I will be worried.

Driving Downtown

Yesterday I had to go downtown for a school project. My mom forbade me to go alone, as she is always convinced I will be kidnapped or shot the instant I leave the protection of Champlin. However, she was busy and couldn't drive me. My father wasn't home, so he couldn't take me either. Also, there was another problem. I am not the best driver. In fact, earlier that day, I had realized I was driving straight in the "turn only" lane. Plus, half of the time I forget to turn on my headlights. I either panic as I drive or I don't pay enough attention. There is no in between. My hands clutch the wheel so hard my fingers hurt when I panic, and I stare unblinkingly at the flashing white lines on the road. On the other hand, when I don't pay attention, I glance around at interesting nearby buildings and drift out of my lane. Driving downtown didn't exactly seem like such a good plan. Especially not at night in the rain. So, my boyfriend offered to drive for me. Which is definitely a good thing, because around ten minutes into the drive, I already didn't recognize anything. I glanced at his face to see if he was as lost as I was, but he seemed to know exactly where we were going. Sure enough, he got us to where we needed to be without a problem. Then he sat with me for an hour as I did my project. When we finally got to head home, he pulled off a quick U-turn and we were headed for the necessary exit. He glanced at the side of the road and groaned. The exit was closed! I gulped. I had no idea how to get home now...well, not that I had much of an idea before then anyways. Maybe...Aha! There was a GPS in the car! I pulled it out like it was a lifeline, staring at the lighted screen as it reassured me that we would find the way home. The reassurance faded instantly as I realized there was something wrong with the stupid thing. Once again, technology had failed me. We pulled over to the side of the road. He's much more logical than I am in such situations, and easily found a detour to the road we needed. After that, we arrived at his house without any further issues. I sank further into my seat in relief. He had just saved me from countless minutes of driving around lost...well, actually, probably hours. I didn't know what to say, and my thoughts zeroed in on how relieved and grateful I was that he had offered to come with me. So sweet! Thanks Tanner! I guess that's the only way I know to say how grateful I was!

El Burrito Mercado

For our CIS ethnography, my friend Maria and I our observing a shop called El Burrito Mercado. When we first entered the store, we were a bit concerned. Motorcycles lined the street outside, their black seat covers gleaming in what little light shined from the store. The bikers themselves sat silently outside of the store, their long legs sprawled in front of them and their dark hair slicked back with bandannas. They watched as Maria and I tiptoed past into the store. The workers didn't seem to realize who we were, not even when we introduced ourselves. Pinatas lined the ceiling and hundreds of types of food lined the shelves. We sat in hard metal chairs and awkwardly directed our attention towards the cafe. After an hour of staring down the workers, we finally rose to leave. Steam rose from the various foods behind the counter as the workers emptied the leftovers into bags. Blinking as the lights dimmed, we wondered for a moment whether or not we should say goodbye. Exchanging a glance, we bolted instead. We rushed for the door, pushing out into the dark street and the safety of Maria's truck. Her dad was waiting patiently for us as we scrambled inside and immediately burst into nervous laughter. "How did it go?" he asked. We looked at each other and just kept laughing.

Technology

At last! I am once again able to blog. My computer has been experiencing some issues...as usual. As a matter of fact, last night my computer froze as I was trying to email something to myself. The mouse paused like a dog suddenly jerked back by a forgotten chain and my stomach sank. Then the screen slowly began to fade. Unevenly! My computer is so messed up that the halves don't even freeze at the same rate! I groaned over the whirring hum of the laptop. It sounded louder than a speeding semi truck, which probably wasn't a good thing. Stabbing the mouse pad, I tried, and failed, to stun the computer into waking up again. The screen went black. Giving up, I slammed the screen shut with a bang that echoed around my small room, bouncing back and forth between my bookshelf and dresser. Muttering about how technology always has dangers of failing, I begged my mom to let me use her laptop. I'm not sure which did it, the clasping of the hands or the look of desperation, but she set her laptop on my desk. I stared at the sleek black cover, so different from the boxy gray look of my own laptop. Gently opening it under my mother's watchful eyes, I sent the email and obediently returned the laptop. Maybe someday I will get one of those...

Work

I worked tonight after swim practice. I taught swimming lessons to small children, which is an enjoyable job, but after a long day, it was rather stressful. We had less swimming instructors present than we needed, and more children than I had expected. I scrambled to collect names and hand out kick boards. The heavy scent of chlorine hung around me and applied itself to my hair, much to my annoyance. My swimmers clung to their kick boards as if they were lifelines and kicked away from the wall. Splashes of water doused me and stung my eyes until I could hardly see.
"That's good, that's good," I exclaimed to all of them, struggling to keep the "smile-and-keep-going" motto of my work. They twisted in the water as I tried to teach them the front crawl, sinking like rocks. A couple mastered the stroke and passed out of the level, but the others spent their time fighting to keep their heads above water. The noise in the pool was deafening as children churned the water around them. I had to shout to be heard, and it wasn't long before my voice was nearly nonexistent. I kept my smile plastered on my face and tried to explain myself using more hand motions than words.
"You guys are doing great," I croaked, giving them each a thumbs-up as they demonstrate their kicking to me. My eyes began to water and the water suddenly seemed to turn cold. At last, I was finished. Stacking the kick boards like a Jenga game, I tried to help with clean-up. What a night. I like my work, but tonight really put the "smile-and-keep-going" rule to the test.

My computer

My computer is sometimes very temperamental. Sometimes, it loads onto the Internet or Microsoft Office Word in a heartbeat, and other times its...many heartbeats. I suppose that is to be expected, though, considering it crashed this spring. I travelled to Europe over Spring Break with the Champlin Park band, and when I returned, the first thing my brother said to me was, "Your computer crashed."
Lovely. All of my many documents that had taken so many hours to write...gone. Thankfully, my mom took it to someone who was able to repair and save all of my lost data. Still, my laptop is running on a short life expectancy. Any day now, it might croak. I hope it doesn't, because I've grown rather attached to it. I even gave it a name. Although, I wouldn't mind actually being able to email or work on my paper without the screen suddenly seizing and refusing to let me type. It would be nice to make it through a whole document without sitting there with waning patience as my poor computer struggles to process the words I have just entered into its keyboard. I will use it until it dies, and then, I guess it will be time to start the whole process over again. And pick a new name for the new laptop.