ally_wright

This is my final entry and I am so glad this semester is almost over. It actually didn’t go by too slowly. I just and ready for a break. I’m ready to sleep in my own bed and cook in my kitchen and be in a familiar place again. The longest time I’ve spent home was the four days over Thanksgiving break and I am ready for a long break. I need time to just be alone and home and with my family and my friends. I am so excited to catch up with everyone. It’s going to be as if we haven’t missed a beat.

But I do love my friends here. My close  Prof. Comm friends and I have gotten to be really good friends. We talk about anything. We laugh all the time and sometimes I feel like I’m going to die of laughter. Our friendships are really on another level that I truly appreciate. It took awhile for everyone to become acquainted but I’m so glad I’m friends with them. I’m really fortunate.

As for classes, they were all right. Intro courses are never the best. Some of them I really enjoyed and some of them I absolutely hated. But I suppose I did learn a good amount for the most part. And the work load wasn’t too bad either. I actually had more work in high school. Everything this semester was pretty good. I survived, I’m definitely happy about that.  This winter break is going to be a well deserved one for everyone.

The End.

My roommate is one of the most considerate and fun loving people I know. You might know her, her name’s Cassie. We met at START and got along great. Actually, our moms met first (who got a long really well and continue to e-mail each other strangely enough). Cassie and I have some ups and downs. She’s a bit on the messy side, but it’s endearing. And I’m a bit on the picky side. But she tolerates me for some reason. We like similar music and movies and are constantly introducing each other to new songs and such. Cassie and I came from households where we each had our own space and own rooms. Living with someone else can be hard, but we respect when the other needs time alone or just to be quiet. I’m so glad I got a good roommate. My experience at college has been pretty good, but I’d imagine it would be a lot worse if I had a bad roommate.

I know my journal entries are getting a bit lame. But it’s getting close to the deadline and I’m having trouble of what to say. Blogging is a lot harder than I ever imagined it would be. I had a livejournal a few years ago when I was a freshman. I didn’t write in it every day. I did write in it often though. I also kept a private journal for many years. But that’s the kind of stuff no one would really find interesting. I really don’t know what kind of things I would write about in my livejournal. I didn’t write the usual stuff about boys and drama. It was more about life in general. I wasn’t a whiney teenager, at least on my journal. I mostly wrote about movies that I liked, a lot about Fight Club, and current music I was listening to. I wrote about visiting my sister and how much I missed her. I wrote about goals I’d want to achieve and places I wanted to visit. Now looking back, I haven’t really changed all that much, which is unusual. I’ve changed a little bit; become more experienced and aware. But my morals and views on life haven’t really changed. I suppose I’ve matured and grown intellectually. Who knows, maybe I’m more different than I know or think I am.

The last paper that we had to write for class was the most difficult to write yet the most intriguing. It got me out of my dorm room and to look into not only the Philadelphia Museum of Art but the city of Philadelphia critically. I enjoyed my excursion to the Museum. I always find it slightly thrilling to use the public transportation and to go somewhere new. I’ve been the Museum before, but never by myself. Granted, I was with a friend, but I mean without an adult or field trip of some kind. Going there on my own I definitely enjoyed. I got to take my time in the areas I wanted and observe my surroundings. Life is much more different when you are an onlooker and watching others. I took a lot more notes that I thought I would. Then again, I found observing a lot more interesting than I thought I would. My hand was constantly scribbling down ideas. Yet when I came to write the paper, it was hard to recall everything. But I managed.

With this paper, I feel I was able to be more creative than I had been able to in the past papers. It was hard to limit myself to talk about only the European art, the area which I chose, because the whole Museum is so fascinating. I could have gone on and on about the different exhibits and collections the Museum has. It made me realize that I need to explore more of Philadelphia while I’m here because truly has so much to offer. There’s so much culture and artwork, even on the streets. The city has a lot of personality, not just the people but the architecture and surroundings. It’s filled with history as well as some of the most modernized developments. If only I had the money to go everywhere!

TV is crap, especially reality TV. I hate shows like “The Bachelor” or “The Hills.” They aren’t even remotely close to real. Why do people watch them? The only shows I watch are the Office and Lost. I have a nice television in my dorm room, but I barely turn it on. Entertainment now isn’t worth it. Even kids shows aren’t the same. What happened to the good stuff like “Hey Arnold” or “Salute Your Shorts” or “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” It’s all bad TV now. I’m not saying that the TV I watched was necessarily good for me, but at least it wasn’t total crap. For example, the Disney channel is nothing like what it used to me. Now there are shows all about bratty pre-teens with laugh tracks behind them. Hannah Montana is the biggest and most sick joke I’ve ever watched (and I’m ashamed to say I’ve seen the show). Supposedly, she’s a good role model for young girls (the same thing they said about Britney Spears). Not only are reality and kids shows awful, but movies are a complete disappointment now. The entertainment industry pumps out some of the poorest excuses for entertainment every year. It’s bad movie after bad movie. There’s no thought or significance to many of these productions. The actors are all just pretty people who in a few years no one is going to care about. They won’t make a mark. It’s hard to come by good entertainment now. Sometimes though, there are movies that make an impact but they are few and far between. My solution to this problem is just to avoid it. I don’t turn on my TV unless it is for the Office or Lost.

Christmas is such an anticipated event, especially for kids. When I was younger Christmas, hands down, was my favorite time of year. It was what I waited for all year. Lights, decorations, candy, presents, trees, wreathes, food, family, everything. The air even seemed different. The heavy air of school and homework and dreary end of autumn disappeared during the holiday season. The bright vibrant reds and brilliant greens covered every inch of my world. Smell of burning wood in fire places, pine needles, snow, bright ornaments. I would eagerly wait up in my bed, trying to stay awake so that I could meet Santa. My heart would pound and I would watch as the minutes went by and it got closer and closer to morning. I've never been one to wake up early, but on Christmas morning, I would always shoot out of bed and run down the stairs to come to a mountain of a Christmas tree littered with bright boxes with bows and strings. I'd check to make sure the cookies and milk I left out were eaten. I dash up the stairs again to wake the rest of the household up so we could commence with the Christmas events. 

Christmas lost its luster as I got older. And for a long time, probably since I was twelve, it was really just another day. But now for some reason, Christmas is exciting again. Partly probably because my sister who currently lives in California is moving back to Baltimore and it will be the first time we’ve had Christmas together in years.

What I’d really like to experience, though, is a Christmas in the 1950’s, like from the movie A Christmas Story. That movie is one of my all-time favorites. My family and I watch it at least twice every Christmas. I’d like to take a time machine and go back to 1950 and celebrate Christmas. Things back then seemed so much more simple. Kids weren’t as greedy and they didn’t ask for tons of gifts, like wii’s and violent video games and big-boobed plastic Barbie dolls. Christmas shopping wasn’t just at Wal-Mart or Target where it’s one stop shopping. People took time to go different places, travel with heavy boxes wrapped in shiny paper. Celebrating was about being with family, eating the Christmas ham, being together, enjoying life. It was picturesque. People actually did caroling and came together to sing “Silent Night.”

But of course it probably isn’t as perfect as I’m imagining. Nothing really is perfect. There’s always something going on. But it’s nice to imagine a time like that. I’m not trying to be negative. I am still really looking forward to Christmas, coming home, and seeing my family.

Things people do every day: eat, sleep, and log onto Facebook. Facebook, not only for college and high school students, has now become a daily ritual, such as checking email or phone messages. Facebook alone has become its own world, with applications, status updates, and wall posts. You can find out pretty much anything about someone on Facebook. What happened to the mystery? Face to face interactions have become less and less common. Facebook is a good way to keep in touch with people, but when it comes to be the only interaction people have with each other, it becomes very impersonal.

Facebook has also become an obsession. It is used in daily conversations. It is how people find out gossip and rumors about people. Some people obsessively check their Facebook. They constantly update their status, post pictures, and write on friends walls. It is almost competitive the as to who can have the most friends or tagged pictures of themselves. Hours are spent wasted and just thinking about the internet rather than doing something useful.

I am not in any way saying that there shouldn’t be a Facebook or that people shouldn’t have Facebook, it is simply the amount it is used. Facebook is great for staying in touch with people who live far away or for letting people know what is going on our lives. Yet, checking it every day fifteen times a day is a bit excessive. As with many things, people tend to gorge themselves. We rely too much on the internet in general. And now with Facebook becoming so popular, we spend hours upon hours in front of the computer. With Facebook, text messaging, and instant messaging it is as if our fingers have to be glued to a keyboard for us to be social.

It’s as if one day I was a little girl, wearing my Beauty and the Beast light up shoes, playing in the mud and getting my hands dirty and the next I’m at college getting ready to turn nineteen. To be honest, I am dreading this birthday. I never liked getting older, especially as a teenager. Being a teenager is being stuck in the middle of childhood and adulthood. I am about to enter my last year as a teenager and therefore am about to be letting go of the last attachments to childhood. To say the least, I am having a very hard time with the transition. Not to be trite, but the years have gone by extremely fast, as if in a blurry haze. I feel like a spectator watching as the world changes and I change with it and grow, yet it’s happening all too quickly. I miss the ignorance of being little, of believing in Santa, and not knowing about things such as a troublesome economy, global warming, and burdensome college loans. One of my biggest fears is forgetting my past. There are so many days that I can’t remember, so many experiences I long to be able to recreate in my mind. And I know the older I get the more distant they will become.

People grow up too fast. Then they do not remember what it is like to be a child. While climbing the ladder of age, to create a metaphor, as they step on each wrung they forget more and more and understand less and less of the child’s mind. By the time they are 30 there is nothing left of their youth. They are disconnected with their adolescence and it is as if they have been an adult their whole life.  Children though, they do not appreciate what they have before them. My young nephews only want to be adults, to grow up and work and drive. But with adulthood comes responsibility and burdens. There is no innocence in being an adult. I want to tell them that they need to slow down, play outside, enjoy the freedom of childhood, make memories that you will be able to recall forever. I wish more than anything that I could go back and relive my childhood. I dread turning nineteen and I dread every other birthday that will be soon to come. The anxiety of it is so thick it could be cut with a knife. The innocence of childhood is so beautiful but it is not something you can bottle and save, it is something you just have to try and savor the memories.

For some families it is tradition to go out shopping on Black Friday to get the best deals possible. Yet, for my family, it is the exact opposite. We don’t go near the malls. For me, it’s the fact that there are so many people crammed into a space, rushing around with no concern for other people that makes me stay as far away as possible.

This year’s Black Friday in particular seemed to be one of the worst to go shopping. My guess is because people are so eager to get as much of a discount on Christmas gifts as possible due to the troubled economy. The bruises from pushing and shoving each year is one thing, but this year a man was trampled to death at a Wal-Mart in Long Island, New York. This man was not even a crazed shopper, he was a greater. After opening the doors to the store at 5am, an ungodly hour to work, he was met with a stampede of people and pummeled to the ground. My heart breaks for this man because he was just trying to do his job when a ruthless mass of people overtook him.

This is one of the most disgusting and animalistic tragedies I have ever heard. It was not as if people were running from a burning building; they were shopping. These people were so eager and selfish to get into the store that a person died because of it. I cannot imagine stepping over someone for 50% marked down prices, it’s absolutely absurd. There is no reason that a day of shopping should be a day marked with tragedy. Being a Wal-Mart greeter, a job I’m sure that does not pay an adequate among, should not be one of danger. I hope that all the merchandise that those monstrous shoppers purchased breaks on Christmas Day.

In March of this year, after thirteen years of being on top Bill Gates was no longer the richest man in the world. He was not even second. He actually came in at bronze with a net worth of $58 billion. Of course that amount is nothing to frown upon. The number one spot was held by Warren Buffet, an investor, who has a total net worth of $62 billion.

In September issue of Forbes, Gates climbed back to the top of the list. Buffet, the former number one in March, is now second. The reason for the sudden victory for Gates is not the an increase in his net worth, he remains at $58 billion, but is more because of Buffet’s financial “woes.” Because of the rough economy, some of Buffet’s shares have fallen 15%. Oh, I know, poor Warren (not quite… he still has $50 billion and is in second place for richest American). In fact, many of the other Forbes men and women lost large amounts of money in stocks this year. One casino tycoon, Sheldon Adelso, had an estimated loss of $1.5 million an hour for the past twelve months. Adelso lost a total amount of $13 billion, definitely a detrimental amount. Others are “struggling” (using the term struggling very loosely) as well.

The Forbes list contains the 400 richest men and women in America. Forty-two of the richest are women, including Oprah (with a net worth of $2.7 billion). Americans that make the list include internet moguls, such as the creators of Google and Mark Zukerberg (the creator of Facebook), oil tycoons, elite art collectors, those born with a golden rattle (inheritance), and etc. Yet, two-thirds of the people on the list are self made. The minimum amount to be included on the list this September was $1.3 billion. The combined amount of money that these elite Americans’ have is $1.57 trillion. 

How can only four-hundred people have this much money while there are other people in the world who live on less than a dollar a day? You could feed an entire country with that amount! It would be almost impossible for Gates or Buffet to spend the amount of money they had. Even if they had a ton of private jets, hundreds of mansions, islands in the Bahamas, it would be practically unfeasible to be able to spend the amount of money that each of them have. Even Oprah, with her couple billion and some, would have trouble spending all her money in one life time. She’s doing a good job spending it though, flying around on her private jet and paying thousands of dollars for eyebrow waxings. 

Someone once told me “There is no such thing as an honest rich man. Unless the money is inheritance, than it was somehow stolen.” I am not saying that I completely agree with this statement, but I do know that gaining this type of net worth does not come without some cut throat, social ladder climbing.

 These numbers are enough to make anyone green with envy.

 When thinking about it though, isn’t it kind of ridiculous that only 400 people have this amount of money while some are struggling to make ends meet? It is true that those who put forth the effort should be rewarded, as many of these tycoons are self made, but how is it that the balance is so off? Minimum wage is $7.50. Seven dollars and fifty cents is something that these people would line their cat’s litter pans with (even though I’m sure none of them even come close to a litter pan). I think it’s ludicrous that the scale is tilted so heavily. But I give no solution to the problem. Thankfully, Gates and other give a large portion to charity and foundations. Maybe they will pay for my college tuition. Okay, that’s definitely dreaming.  

I like participating in class discussions. I enjoy talking to other people and hearing opposing opinions. Sometimes it enlightens me on differing views, which I appreciate. Discussing concerns about healthcare and education is vital for intellectual growth because it helps people stimulate thought, create opinions, strengthen opinions, and even change opinions. A lot of times we are just “chit chatting” and “small talking” about issues such as clothes, parties, and other less critical matters. This isn’t to say that this is all the time, just majority of the time. Everyone is guilty of it and it isn’t a bad thing. It is sometimes very difficult to get into extremely intellectual conversations and ask questions about occurring matters in the world. The classroom is perfect place for this because it is a “safe” environment where it is acceptable to ask questions and state an opinion without the fear of being judged (for the most part). It is so much more beneficial to have discussions where students participate and contribute their views on topics rather than having a professor lecture simply on their opinion. Discussing topics in class also helps students learn. It gets them involved in class instead of sitting idly at their seats. Even though class is at 9:00 am and not everyone is quite awake yet, by the end of class I feel that a lot has been conversed and accomplished. A con to class discussion is that sometimes I get tired of talking about the exact same things. In high school a lot of my classes were discussion oriented and debate oriented and we did similar things to what we do in Writing. The same topics are talked about over and over again. I would like to focus and learn more about other country’s issues rather than just the US. Abortion, gay marriage, education, gun control, and healthcare have been overworked to the bone. It would be useful, I think, to study and be taught about other country’s policies and governments. A lot of the time I think that we do not know enough about the world around us, that is the world outside of the US. Also in discussions, problems are often argued but solutions never seem to come up. No one seems to bring up an answer or key to fixing the disagreements or tribulations. Maybe after discussions people will be prompted to go out and do something in their community.

     “It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.” Crash

Just when I think I’m done with my first paper, The Critical Review, it comes back. Honestly, I feel as though my paper was as good as it was going to get. I actually worked on this paper, unlike other papers I’ve done in the past. I found the topic to be interesting and thought provoking. I wasn’t writing about some novel which I only read half of, I was writing about something I feel strongly about (not comic book sexism per say, but sexism in general).

I probably put more thought into my first draft than I should have. I think for the first time in my life I wrote the draft before the day (or night before) it was due, which is impressive for me. Of course there could have been more revision done between the first draft and the final. My language could have been stronger and my ideas could have been clearer, but time is hard to find. That’s no excuse to not put a full one hundred percent effort in, but at some point, the writer has to stop and put it away and just be done with the work. There’s other things to juggle in life, especially being at college. With a full load of classes, there isn’t a full twenty-four (okay, nobody is going to put in 24/7 into anything anyway) but thinking logically, I’m not going to put eight hours a day into a paper because I don’t have that kind of time. No student here at this University does. I have other classes to do work for, try to manage life in a dorm (which is a lot harder than it seems, and I’ve tried to stray away from writing in this blog about the whole “college experience” being away from mommy and daddy kind of thing, but it’s true, it’s a lot to handle), try to find some time in the day to just sit calmly (this of course gets shoved to the bottom of priorities). And then there’s papers, proposals, studying, outlines, projects, tests, pamphlets (communication majors), quizzes, blogging, reading, homework, first drafts times five.

So, all in all (excuse the ranting) it was a pretty good paper, a pretty good effort.

That controversial subject seems to sneak its way into conversations around the world. It is something everyone has an opinion on. Men and women. Black people and white people. Liberals and conservatives. Christians, Jews, Muslims, and Buddhist. Every city, every nation, every person has some sort of opinion on the matter. Abortion.

Does life begin at conception or does it begin after birth? When is it immoral to undergo an abortion? Is it the woman’s decision alone, or should the potential father be consulted? Should it be legal or illegal? Is it a woman’s right?

Flat out, my belief is that it is a woman’s right to decide what she does with her body and what she allows in her body. I’ve read many people’s opinions on this subject and on both sides I believe there is some truth. Yet, I still stand firmly by my belief. Yes, I do believe that it would be much better to not be put in that situation and to consider adoption. Yes, I do believe it would be better for the mother (and father if possible) to bring a baby into the world. But no, I do not believe it is the government’s right to decide if a woman should have a baby. No, I do not believe it is good for a mother to bring a child into an unwanted world. What I don’t understand is why people do so much to protect a fetus and then when the baby is born, they don’t give two cents.

In the words of the late comedian George Carlin

“If you're pre-born, you're fine, if you're pre-schooled, you're f---d. Conservatives want live babies so they can raise them to be dead soldiers. Pro-life, these people aren't pro-life, they're killing doctors, what kind of pro-life is that? What, they'll do everything they can do save a fetus, but if it grows up to be a doctor they just might have to kill it?”

This subject can make or break a relationship. If two people are just getting to know each other and one states that they are pro-life and the other is pro-choice, the situation almost immediately becomes awkward (this isn’t fact, it’s merely my stance from experience and stories). People are so quick shut their ears. I try and make a conscious effort to read up on both sides of the argument. Although I believe that abortion should be a woman’s right, I also believe that everyone is entitled to their opinion.

In the comfort of my dorm room, surrounded by remnants of my home back in Baltimore, I think of all those who evacuated their homes in preparation of Hurricane Gustav. I recently read that nearly two million people left their homes in New Orleans, their possessions, their place of comfort.

Imagine, leaving your home and only being able to bring what will fit into a backpack. How do you decipher what is important? The essentials of course, important papers, credit cards, passports, and other such items are brought. But what about all the things that hold sentimental value? Photo albums, childhood mementos, heirlooms.  And all you can do after leaving is remain in constant anticipation. Wait to hear how bad the damage is. Wait to hear when you can return. Wait in constant fear to see if your home is still standing, if your things are still intact, if the life you knew before Gustav still remains.

In August 2005, when Hurricane Katrina hit, it put the fear of God and the fear of Mother Nature in many people’s hearts. After Katrina, it almost felt as if it was the end of the world. In the safety of my family room I watched on T.V as people waited on rooftops to be rescued, children in the streets walking through the filth, looters rampaging stores, those crammed into the Super Dome lying on the floor without a sufficient amount of clean water or beds or food. I saw this from my television and thought to myself that nothing there would ever be the same. I questioned how human kind will ever be able to recover from such horrific natural disasters. I tried to put myself in their state of mind, but there is no possibility that I could come close to what they were experiencing. And to think, some of the disaster could have been prevented if there was a better levee system. Eighty percent of New Orleans was flooded. Most of the homes that were destroyed belonged to those of lower class income families. What does this say about America? We lowered our heads in shame at this time. I was baffled, angry, and lost at this point. America, of all the places in the world we guarantee to keep our people safe. We pride ourselves on unity. We must stand beside her and guide her.  And then something like this happens and sheds light upon the truth. America, one of the largest superpowers in the world, looked like a third world country all because of broken levees and not enough preparation.

It is safe to say that this time around, people were much more cautious. It is almost redemption from the catastrophic outcome of Katrina. But we can never have redemption for the lives that were lost during Katrina.

I too left my place of comfort. Granted, my experience was not even on the same scale as those who had to evacuate their homes in New Orleans. I left for college, a completely different situation to say the least. As my mom, my boyfriend, and I drove up to the school campus a gigantic knot of anxiety began to grow in my stomach. My hands uncontrollably fidgeted at my sides. I missed my home already. I missed my normalcy. I missed my life. I was being thrown into this new environment, surrounded by people I didn’t know, and forced to live without everything I had grown accustomed to. Yet in the back of my mind, I knew that I would always be able to go home. My room would still be the same. The smell would still be the same. I knew it would always be my home.

My heart aches for those who had to leave their homes so suddenly; who had to pack their lives away and pray that when they returned it would not be gone forever, hoping that they will be able to pick up their lives again.

Even though it is entirely cliché, it is also entirely true. There is no place like home.