For dinner today I went to PCB with a friend. After stuffing our faces with every item of
food that was within reach, we decided it was time for ice cream sundaes. There were marshmallows, sprinkles, whipped
cream, nuts, and more. I was beyond
excited as we ran up with our bowls and flung open the freezer. Now, I have never really been good at
scooping the ice cream out of the bins.
I am not sure if it is because I am pathetically weak or if the little
scoopers make it impossible to obtain a huge amount of ice cream. My friend, who is smaller than me, went
first, and she had no problem. At this
point, I felt confident that if she could do it, then so could I. WRONG. I stood there for four torturous minutes
hacking away at what seemed to be a sheet of ice. The worst part was that a line started
forming behind me so that everyone could watch how much of a pro ice cream
scooper I was. At the end of the four
minutes I barely had any ice cream, so to make up for it, I threw on a mountain
of whipped cream. I have no idea what
the problem is. I have no issues opening
the doors to Hodges, yet I can’t get a freaking scoop of ice cream. I sure hope that I’m not the only one who has
this problem because everyone I talk to can get all the ice cream that they
want out of that thing.
The randomness and adventures that are the life of a freshman at UTK.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
City of Bones
So lately in class we
have been discussing memoirs (of course), presenting memoirs, having quizzes on
memoirs, and writing our own essay-memoirs.
A couple of times, out of the blue, Professor Greene asked different
questions like “who writes fiction?” (yes) and “who enjoys reading fiction?”
(double yes). THIS IS ME! So for this blog post, I decided to share my
own review of my absolute favorite book, which is not a memoir, for a change.
It is called the Mortal
Instruments Series by Cassandra Clare.
The first book is titled City of
Bones and is going to be a movie sometime next year. I was BEYOND excited when I received this
news! When I first read the book, I was
around 15 or 16. A friend recommended it
to me, and because she has good taste in fiction, I found myself sucked into it
as well. At 15 years old, I thought it
was pretty dark, but it doesn’t bother me now (I don’t know if this is because
I am used to it, or just because I like stuff with a dark side to it. Most people are very surprised when they hear
this from me). Basically it takes place
in modern NYC. The main character is a
redheaded troublemaker named Clary Fray.
Clary learns that she is part of a race of humans called
Shadowhunters. These Shadowhunters are
given special abilities and weapons in order to kill demons. After her mom is kidnapped, she realizes that
in order to find her, she must team up with people she hardly knows. As the story progresses and the characters
gallivant across familiar NYC locations, it becomes very addicting. I am a ginormous fan of New York, having been
there at least a dozen times, and so reading this book is the equivalent of
eating lots of sugary peeps. Lots and
lots of peeps. Yes, there are vampires, and warlocks and all that good stuff in
it. No, they do not sparkle or marry
humans. It all sounds very strange and
childish at first, but Cassandra Clare has a way of making it all incredibly
funny and giving great story plots. She
keeps some hilarious blogs as well, which I frequently creep on.
So yeah, read this book
if you think flying motorcycles, snarky best friends, and tons of action are cool! I definitely tried putting the pictures of the series on here and it wouldn't let me so you can always google for them.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Walks into very first college class……blinks…..end of the school year?
It would seem that we have only been in college for a couple
of months, right? That “winter” we had
was only a week long cold chill, right?
Wasn’t welcome week like two months ago?
Every time someone walks up and mentions that we have around four weeks
left, I want to flip out. This place has
become home to me, and the thought of leaving it again for my real home in
Alabama really freaks me out (ironic, right?).
Some days it seems like I haven’t been here long at all. Other days, when I’m bored, I will reflect on
how much I have changed at UT and I will feel as though I have been here
forever. It’s rather depressing to think
that it is almost finals time, when it still feels as though I have just made
it back from Ignite Summit and have made my first friend here.
I guess I am so nervous because there is no guarantee that I
will still be here in the next year and a half.
I made a promise to myself when I was eleven after having my gallbladder
removed. That promise was to become a
nurse. However, I am not in the nursing
program yet. For whatever reason, I did
not know that we were supposed to apply to the College of Nursing separately,
so now I am competing with all of the other students in the same position. It is notoriously hard to get into nursing
school this way. The frustrating thing
is, I am taking the same courses as my fellow freshmen who knew they were
supposed to apply. A lot of these people
have not been doing so well in a few of these classes, but I have been doing
relatively ok. Please note that I am not
trying to insult any of my classmates, but you might understand if you felt as
much uncertainty about your future as I do right now. They could stay in the nursing program if
they kept a GPA about 3.0 (I think) and I still might not get in even if I have
a GPA of say 3.7 or 3.8.
I do not regret my decision on coming to UT. I have learned so much here and have made
many friends. I wanted to experience a
different state and challenge myself by starting over somewhere that I didn’t
have a single friend. It will be the
absolute happiest day of my life if I am accepted into the Nursing Program
here, because I will stay at the school I love, and will not be forced to
return back to Alabama.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
September 11th
For some reason, I can’t get my mind off of 9/11
today. I know it is April, and that
September is a long way from now, but it’s just something I have been thinking
about lately.
My family was in St. Louis, MO at the time (where I
was born) for my uncle’s funeral the day before. I don’t remember the guy very much because I
was in elementary school. I do remember
one fleeting moment when they were about to close the casket for the day, and
all of the sudden I found a rose lying on the floor. Being a kid, I plucked it off the ground and
ran up and placed it on my uncle’s chest before they closed the casket. Anyways, back to the story. The next morning was the day we were leaving
to drive back to Alabama. I remember waking
up in the hotel room to the noise of the national news on TV. I look over and my parents are sitting at the
foot of their bed with their eyes glued to the box. With one glance at the TV I knew that they
were watching a movie. But why would
they be watching a horror movie right after waking up? We had to pack up after all. I asked them what they were watching, and my
mom looked at me funny and said it really was the news. Later, as we stopped at McDonald’s to eat
lunch, we watched more news channels showing the airports going into lockdown
and the Arch in St. Louis, where we had just been, was closing down as well. I guess it was a good thing we didn’t book a
flight back home.
It was so hard for me, probably a seven-year-old, to
understand the absolute horror of what was unfolding. A widely used phrase is “the innocence of
children”. This is entirely true. As a seven-year-old, I simply could not
understand true hate and how destructive it can be. As an adult, it sticks more to your mind,
leaving a flashbulb memory (I believe this is the term my Psychology professor
used). It stays with you almost forever,
and once you begin to think about it, it is hard to stop. It is appalling and makes people afraid. I think we have come together more as a
country since this event, and hopefully other countries will see that freedom
isn’t such a bad thing to have after all.
Oh well, I guess “haters gonna hate”.
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