I read a lot of books. If I find a book I enjoy, I can become inseparable from it. There are few activities I like more than quiet afternoons when I can curl up under a blanket with a good read. This is something that really relaxes me. If I'm not careful, I might listen to December and fall asleep. It's the "George Winston guarantee".
When I finish a book, I want to feel sad that it's over. That is the standard I use to differentiate a good book from a great book. I was emotional after I finished Big Chief Elizabeth for the first time, which was a factor in what makes it my very favorite book. First impressions are very important, if I don't become immersed in the story fast, it is easy for me to quit reading it and try something else. It isn't fair to some books that grow on me more slowly, but that's the way it usually works. I just need to be more patient.
The downside of the first impression approach is that I have read books that I finish once and immediately say "That is one of my favorites!" while the book was fresh in mind. Then the excitement wears off and then I wonder what was so special about that book that I made it one of my favorites. A good question to ask at that point is "Would I read it again?". Maybe, maybe not. This isn't something that happens to me often with books, but it has before. On the other hand, there are some that quickly become my favorites and I don't regret it at all later.
I am currently reading They Poured Fire on Us From the Sky. I read it in English class Sophomore year and disliked it. The main reason was because I was forced to read it for school, which takes a significant amount of the enjoyment out of almost any book. I thought the way they compiled the three perspectives was confusing, but, I was also not really engaged in reading it. I want to learn patience, so I'm giving it another chance. Fifty pages in, it benefits a lot from a second reading. I really like it.
I'm looking forward to the next book on my reading list, The Shadow of the Wind, a novel by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. I rarely read fiction nowadays, but it is really good from what I've heard. I ordered it online and expect it to arrive on Wednesday or Thursday. I can't wait!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Calling at Roanoke
In June of 2008, our family drove across East Tennessee and the entire state of North Carolina to the Outer Banks, a whopping 12 hour drive. We made the smart decision of splitting the drive into two days, stopping in Raleigh on the first night. I had been looking forward to our vacation for about a year and could hardly stand the excitement. The next day we had almost reached our destination, but first we had to drive over the sound to Roanoke Island and then cross the sound again to get the the rest of the Outer Banks. I could write about everything we did over the course of our week, but I decided to do it in parts as a way of anticipating our trip next summer. I want to talk about Roanoke, anyway.
On the third or fourth day, we went back to Roanoke. It was by far the hottest day of the week we were at the Outer Banks, and everyone except me would rather have stayed inside our beach house's air-conditioned paradise. I persisted because I had been intrigued by the true story of the "Lost Colony" ever since I first heard it back in 8th grade American History class. The history nerd in me wouldn't pass up the chance to visit the place where it happened.
We arrived at the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site, which was a in a forested area that was basically a state park. We didn't waste time in getting out of the heat and into the main building, where we browsed around until a ranger told a large group of us the story of the Roanoke colony:
In 1584, an English colonial project for North America was being planned. It was backed by the flamboyant Sir Walter Ralegh, who sent a group of explorers to search the American coastline for a suitable spot for the colony. They soon fell in love with the Outer Banks, particularly Roanoke Island. The island was protected by the barrier of the Outer Banks, which minimized the risk of attack by the Spanish, the soil was good for agriculture, and the explorers received a warm reception from the native Algonquian tribes that lived in the area. On the return voyage, they brought back two tribesmen, Manteo and Wanchese. Manteo was curious about the English way of life and worked with Thomas Harriot, an important member of Ralegh's team. He and Harriot worked together to learn each other's language.Wanchese was less eager to learn, he saw himself as a prisoner during his time in England and later deserted the colony.
For the most part, things looked hopeful for Ralegh's enterprise. A second expedition was sent to the Outer Banks in 1585. Sir Richard Grenville, who took the colonists to Roanoke, appointed Ralph Lane to be the governor. Their ship was wrecked when it tried to enter the Outer Banks through dangerously shallow waters. Nearly all of the food and farming supplies were ruined by the seawater. Despite the accident, they arrived on the island and met the chief, Wingina. The colonists were in need of food, and requested use of the tribe's food supply. Wingina obliged, but soon the extra mouths to feed, along with several violent clashes between natives and colonists, would stretch his tolerance of the English to its breaking point. He eventually planned an attack on the colonists with the goal of wiping them out entirely. Governor Lane caught wind of the planned massacre ahead of time, so he responded with a massacre of his own. The colonists' main target was Wingina himself, so they chased him into the forest and beheaded him. With the tribe practically obliterated, the threat from Wingina was gone, but so was the food supply. The colony was in an awful situation, so they jumped at the chance to return to England with Sir Francis Drake who was passing the Outer Banks on his way back from the Caribbean. It was unlucky that Sir Richard Grenville came back to Roanoke with a new food supply shortly after their departure.
Grenville left 15 soldiers at Roanoke to hold down the fort and went back to England. The Roanoke experiment was deemed a total failure by Ralegh, so he chose a new site, Chesapeake Bay. The next expedition was sent in 1587, this time led by an artist named John White. Governor White was a weak leader, so when the expedition pilot, Simon Fernandez, did not want to go to Chesapeake Bay, White tried to avoid a confrontation by handing over command of the expedition to Fernandez. The colonists were dropped off at Roanoke Island, which was 50 miles south of their planned destination. Fernandez set sail almost immediately, leaving the colonists to fend for themselves. The 15 men left by Grenville were gone, the only clue was a skeleton found near the fort. The colonists found out that they had all been killed by warriors who were the remnants of Wingina's tribe. White's daughter gave birth to a baby girl, Virginia Dare, the first English child born in North America. Things soon got worse for the colony, the food supply ran low and one of the colonists was found dead, murdered by hostile natives. The colonists unanimously decided that Governor White should return to England to request more supplies.White reluctantly agreed. Before he left, the colony planned that if they should leave Roanoke while White was away, they would carve the name of their location into a tree along with a Maltese Cross if the move was made by force.
Due to several delays, John White's return to the colony did not happen until 1590. He finally made it back to Roanoke Island to find that the colonists had disappeared. The fort had broken down and was empty, everything that had been used to build the houses was gone. Some of his possessions, which had been placed in a chest and buried for safekeeping, had been dug up and looted. Even a few of his precious watercolors had been left exposed to the weather and were ruined. The only clue left behind was a word carved into a post of the fort: CROATOAN. There was fortunately no cross. White could only assume that the colonists had gone to Croatoan Island, which was not far from Roanoke. White planned to visit Croatoan the following day, but his luck had run out. A nasty storm came up which forced his ship far enough out to sea that it wasn't worth going back to the Outer Banks. John White never tried to return again. The mystery has remained unsolved ever since.
The ranger finished telling the story. I was spellbound. I drifted over to the souvenir shop, where I bought a copy of John White's watercolor map of the Outer Banks (which is remarkably accurate). I found out later that my parents bought me Big Chief Elizabeth, which is about the Roanoke colony, and is also my all-time favorite book. Before we left Roanoke, we stopped at an oasis also known as 7-Eleven. I guess the real reason the colonists vanished was because they didn't have Slurpees!
On the third or fourth day, we went back to Roanoke. It was by far the hottest day of the week we were at the Outer Banks, and everyone except me would rather have stayed inside our beach house's air-conditioned paradise. I persisted because I had been intrigued by the true story of the "Lost Colony" ever since I first heard it back in 8th grade American History class. The history nerd in me wouldn't pass up the chance to visit the place where it happened.
We arrived at the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site, which was a in a forested area that was basically a state park. We didn't waste time in getting out of the heat and into the main building, where we browsed around until a ranger told a large group of us the story of the Roanoke colony:
In 1584, an English colonial project for North America was being planned. It was backed by the flamboyant Sir Walter Ralegh, who sent a group of explorers to search the American coastline for a suitable spot for the colony. They soon fell in love with the Outer Banks, particularly Roanoke Island. The island was protected by the barrier of the Outer Banks, which minimized the risk of attack by the Spanish, the soil was good for agriculture, and the explorers received a warm reception from the native Algonquian tribes that lived in the area. On the return voyage, they brought back two tribesmen, Manteo and Wanchese. Manteo was curious about the English way of life and worked with Thomas Harriot, an important member of Ralegh's team. He and Harriot worked together to learn each other's language.Wanchese was less eager to learn, he saw himself as a prisoner during his time in England and later deserted the colony.
For the most part, things looked hopeful for Ralegh's enterprise. A second expedition was sent to the Outer Banks in 1585. Sir Richard Grenville, who took the colonists to Roanoke, appointed Ralph Lane to be the governor. Their ship was wrecked when it tried to enter the Outer Banks through dangerously shallow waters. Nearly all of the food and farming supplies were ruined by the seawater. Despite the accident, they arrived on the island and met the chief, Wingina. The colonists were in need of food, and requested use of the tribe's food supply. Wingina obliged, but soon the extra mouths to feed, along with several violent clashes between natives and colonists, would stretch his tolerance of the English to its breaking point. He eventually planned an attack on the colonists with the goal of wiping them out entirely. Governor Lane caught wind of the planned massacre ahead of time, so he responded with a massacre of his own. The colonists' main target was Wingina himself, so they chased him into the forest and beheaded him. With the tribe practically obliterated, the threat from Wingina was gone, but so was the food supply. The colony was in an awful situation, so they jumped at the chance to return to England with Sir Francis Drake who was passing the Outer Banks on his way back from the Caribbean. It was unlucky that Sir Richard Grenville came back to Roanoke with a new food supply shortly after their departure.
Grenville left 15 soldiers at Roanoke to hold down the fort and went back to England. The Roanoke experiment was deemed a total failure by Ralegh, so he chose a new site, Chesapeake Bay. The next expedition was sent in 1587, this time led by an artist named John White. Governor White was a weak leader, so when the expedition pilot, Simon Fernandez, did not want to go to Chesapeake Bay, White tried to avoid a confrontation by handing over command of the expedition to Fernandez. The colonists were dropped off at Roanoke Island, which was 50 miles south of their planned destination. Fernandez set sail almost immediately, leaving the colonists to fend for themselves. The 15 men left by Grenville were gone, the only clue was a skeleton found near the fort. The colonists found out that they had all been killed by warriors who were the remnants of Wingina's tribe. White's daughter gave birth to a baby girl, Virginia Dare, the first English child born in North America. Things soon got worse for the colony, the food supply ran low and one of the colonists was found dead, murdered by hostile natives. The colonists unanimously decided that Governor White should return to England to request more supplies.White reluctantly agreed. Before he left, the colony planned that if they should leave Roanoke while White was away, they would carve the name of their location into a tree along with a Maltese Cross if the move was made by force.
Due to several delays, John White's return to the colony did not happen until 1590. He finally made it back to Roanoke Island to find that the colonists had disappeared. The fort had broken down and was empty, everything that had been used to build the houses was gone. Some of his possessions, which had been placed in a chest and buried for safekeeping, had been dug up and looted. Even a few of his precious watercolors had been left exposed to the weather and were ruined. The only clue left behind was a word carved into a post of the fort: CROATOAN. There was fortunately no cross. White could only assume that the colonists had gone to Croatoan Island, which was not far from Roanoke. White planned to visit Croatoan the following day, but his luck had run out. A nasty storm came up which forced his ship far enough out to sea that it wasn't worth going back to the Outer Banks. John White never tried to return again. The mystery has remained unsolved ever since.
The ranger finished telling the story. I was spellbound. I drifted over to the souvenir shop, where I bought a copy of John White's watercolor map of the Outer Banks (which is remarkably accurate). I found out later that my parents bought me Big Chief Elizabeth, which is about the Roanoke colony, and is also my all-time favorite book. Before we left Roanoke, we stopped at an oasis also known as 7-Eleven. I guess the real reason the colonists vanished was because they didn't have Slurpees!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
The Snooze Alarm
My backpack is a tough old broad. On the front it says "THE OTHER SIDE OF 2000", it might be worth good money at an antique store. I'm joking, I would never get rid of it, it is one of my prized possessions. After eleven years of carrying my school things my backpack is unfortunately showing its age.
Although carrying 50 lbs of textbooks is its main purpose in life, it also makes a surprisingly comfortable pillow. This afternoon in AP European History, I brought a book and my ipod, fully prepared to stay awake, or so I thought. The book couldn't hold my interest and my ipod had the low battery screen, so I lifted my backpack onto my desk and dozed off. I was drifting into sleep, but could hear the distant noise of Coach Whitefield criticizing our latest batch of essays. I guess I was only half-asleep, but I needed my rest, I didn't get much last night.
But my snooze was too good to last. Before I knew it, I heard the doorbell sound on the school intercom. I groaned as I wiped away the string of drool connecting my backpack to the corner of my mouth. Even if it was only for a little while, getting to sleep was great! I don't know what I would do without my backpack, it's priceless. :)
Although carrying 50 lbs of textbooks is its main purpose in life, it also makes a surprisingly comfortable pillow. This afternoon in AP European History, I brought a book and my ipod, fully prepared to stay awake, or so I thought. The book couldn't hold my interest and my ipod had the low battery screen, so I lifted my backpack onto my desk and dozed off. I was drifting into sleep, but could hear the distant noise of Coach Whitefield criticizing our latest batch of essays. I guess I was only half-asleep, but I needed my rest, I didn't get much last night.
But my snooze was too good to last. Before I knew it, I heard the doorbell sound on the school intercom. I groaned as I wiped away the string of drool connecting my backpack to the corner of my mouth. Even if it was only for a little while, getting to sleep was great! I don't know what I would do without my backpack, it's priceless. :)
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Banned
Is it right to ban books? I think most people would answer, "yes, but within reason." Banning books is a good thing in some ways, but is bad thing in others. I can understand where libraries are coming from with limiting their selection of books. They probably don't want people coming to the library to stock up on porn, instead they want to fill the shelves with books of good taste. Joking aside, supporters of book banning have a point. Parents should want to protect their kids, right? Is it going too far for parents to impose their will on the libraries if they deem a book inappropriate for their children? I think it should be the parent's responsibility to choose for themselves, instead of depriving someone else of a book that person may want to read. For example, if one of my beloved Giles Milton books was banned at the library, I would be leader of the opposition.
It isn't only overprotective parents, it could also be a person with some kind of agenda. If someone wanted to minimize other people's opinions, isn't that against the First Amendment? Free speech comes with strings attached, again it is a "within reason" thing. If everyone could say exactly what they think, things would be chaotic. However, what human being has the authority to choose what is and isn't reasonable for everyone else? The alternative option is just common sense. If common sense was the only restriction, some idiots would go too far and their actions could then be used as reasons to have more restrictions.
Both sides of the argument have a valid point, but both have extremes. There should be a balance, some kind of compromise. If only we could get there...
It isn't only overprotective parents, it could also be a person with some kind of agenda. If someone wanted to minimize other people's opinions, isn't that against the First Amendment? Free speech comes with strings attached, again it is a "within reason" thing. If everyone could say exactly what they think, things would be chaotic. However, what human being has the authority to choose what is and isn't reasonable for everyone else? The alternative option is just common sense. If common sense was the only restriction, some idiots would go too far and their actions could then be used as reasons to have more restrictions.
Both sides of the argument have a valid point, but both have extremes. There should be a balance, some kind of compromise. If only we could get there...
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Middle Ground
When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us. ~Alexander Graham Bell
That quote describes me perfectly. When I want something, I obsess over it until it's mine, and under appreciate what I already had. If I do appreciate what I have, I am thankful for it but in the back of my mind I think, "What's next? Is there more?". The fact that I struggle with jealousy doesn't help, it just adds to the selfishness. I'm not proud of it and I want to break the cycle, even though it won't be easy for me.
I plan to start helping people with severe Cerebral Palsy at school. At the very least, I want to meet them. I feel like it would be a learning experience for me, and I would like to understand how they view their lives and cope with their disorder, since I only know a taste of what living with CP is like. After that, I can reevaluate my own problems.
I also want to do this because I have a connection with them and feel that in a small way I can relate. Is that being selfish? I've been confused about that for a while. Ever since I found out that I have Cerebral Palsy, I have felt torn between feeling victimized by my disorder or moving on and remembering that nothing holds me back. Should I help others or help myself? I want to find a middle ground. It's possible to do both, but where should the priority be? I want to help people with severe CP, but it would be ungrateful for me to ignore how lucky I am and be the best I can be. Where do I stand?
That quote describes me perfectly. When I want something, I obsess over it until it's mine, and under appreciate what I already had. If I do appreciate what I have, I am thankful for it but in the back of my mind I think, "What's next? Is there more?". The fact that I struggle with jealousy doesn't help, it just adds to the selfishness. I'm not proud of it and I want to break the cycle, even though it won't be easy for me.
I plan to start helping people with severe Cerebral Palsy at school. At the very least, I want to meet them. I feel like it would be a learning experience for me, and I would like to understand how they view their lives and cope with their disorder, since I only know a taste of what living with CP is like. After that, I can reevaluate my own problems.
I also want to do this because I have a connection with them and feel that in a small way I can relate. Is that being selfish? I've been confused about that for a while. Ever since I found out that I have Cerebral Palsy, I have felt torn between feeling victimized by my disorder or moving on and remembering that nothing holds me back. Should I help others or help myself? I want to find a middle ground. It's possible to do both, but where should the priority be? I want to help people with severe CP, but it would be ungrateful for me to ignore how lucky I am and be the best I can be. Where do I stand?
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
At the Gym
I was planning on writing today's blog on another topic, but changed my mind. A more positive, funny blog would be better for me right now, it's more worthwhile to try to get out of this depression, hopefully the effect will be more than temporary.
I love to work out. I have gone to the YMCA for the past 3 years, but have only been serious about it since about a year ago when I decided to take Weights class at school. At first, I couldn't do much and made little progress, but eventually it started to kick in (along with eating more). I'm proud that now I am making progress on a weekly basis and have come a long way in reaching my goal, even though I am still far from achieving it. However, I must give credit where credit is due: Thank you to my good friend Sam Ives for the all of the help and support, it means a lot to me and I'm very grateful for it!
I was at the gym last night, it was a back/biceps/shoulders workout. Everything was normal, I was working on a bicep exercise with the kettle bells when this other guy approached me. He asked what muscles the exercise worked. He looked about twice as strong as I am, so I was surprised he didn't know. Since 95% of the time bigger guys only stop me if I'm doing something wrong, my immediate response was, "Is this a trick question?" He told me he legit didn't know. It was difficult for me to suppress a grin as I explained what the exercise was. I won't lie, my ego went through the roof. It's shallow, I know, but it could be worse. For instance, I think a certain amount of heavy breathing is normal when a guy is working out, but for some people LOUD grunting is code for "Look at me! I'm a badass." I guess it's just part of weight room culture, and that kind of thing can be contagious. Understand I'm not pretending to be superior or saying every guy who works out is that full of himself, I'm just making a fair observation.
It's good to be proud of yourself. I will be very proud when I reach my goal. As with anything, there are some people will who take it too far. I'm not sure if I won't take it too far. I admit my ego is big now, but how much bigger will it become down the road? Although I think it's funny, I won't be too hard on guys like that because it's likely I will end up just like them one day.
I love to work out. I have gone to the YMCA for the past 3 years, but have only been serious about it since about a year ago when I decided to take Weights class at school. At first, I couldn't do much and made little progress, but eventually it started to kick in (along with eating more). I'm proud that now I am making progress on a weekly basis and have come a long way in reaching my goal, even though I am still far from achieving it. However, I must give credit where credit is due: Thank you to my good friend Sam Ives for the all of the help and support, it means a lot to me and I'm very grateful for it!
I was at the gym last night, it was a back/biceps/shoulders workout. Everything was normal, I was working on a bicep exercise with the kettle bells when this other guy approached me. He asked what muscles the exercise worked. He looked about twice as strong as I am, so I was surprised he didn't know. Since 95% of the time bigger guys only stop me if I'm doing something wrong, my immediate response was, "Is this a trick question?" He told me he legit didn't know. It was difficult for me to suppress a grin as I explained what the exercise was. I won't lie, my ego went through the roof. It's shallow, I know, but it could be worse. For instance, I think a certain amount of heavy breathing is normal when a guy is working out, but for some people LOUD grunting is code for "Look at me! I'm a badass." I guess it's just part of weight room culture, and that kind of thing can be contagious. Understand I'm not pretending to be superior or saying every guy who works out is that full of himself, I'm just making a fair observation.
It's good to be proud of yourself. I will be very proud when I reach my goal. As with anything, there are some people will who take it too far. I'm not sure if I won't take it too far. I admit my ego is big now, but how much bigger will it become down the road? Although I think it's funny, I won't be too hard on guys like that because it's likely I will end up just like them one day.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Rude Awakening
I had a long day today. School was normal, but I was very tired by the end of the day. I had to go to the bank and the post office, but I didn't waste time. When I got home, I collapsed on my bed and fell asleep almost immediately.
While I was snoozing, I had a really good dream. It was like everything important that I'm thinking about right now, strung together for my mind's entertainment. I thought it was really a look at how emotional and depressed I feel right now. It was an unbiased perspective of my feelings about what is happening in my life. The dream was happy, but it was sad, too, especially looking back on it. I think the message of the dream was how important close friendship is to me but how afraid I am of losing it.
All of a sudden, I heard the punishingly loud noise of someone knocking on my bedroom door. It was my dad telling me to get up. Why did the dream have to end? I glanced at my alarm clock and saw that I had been asleep for almost 2 hours. It felt like 15 minutes while I was dreaming. I knew the dream was important and that I would forget it soon, so I wrote it down in my diary before I emerged from my room. I plan to look over it again tomorrow morning. It's not that hard to understand what this dream is telling me, it's just reinforcing what I'm going through in real life. Honestly, do I need the reminder? All I need is some support.
While I was snoozing, I had a really good dream. It was like everything important that I'm thinking about right now, strung together for my mind's entertainment. I thought it was really a look at how emotional and depressed I feel right now. It was an unbiased perspective of my feelings about what is happening in my life. The dream was happy, but it was sad, too, especially looking back on it. I think the message of the dream was how important close friendship is to me but how afraid I am of losing it.
All of a sudden, I heard the punishingly loud noise of someone knocking on my bedroom door. It was my dad telling me to get up. Why did the dream have to end? I glanced at my alarm clock and saw that I had been asleep for almost 2 hours. It felt like 15 minutes while I was dreaming. I knew the dream was important and that I would forget it soon, so I wrote it down in my diary before I emerged from my room. I plan to look over it again tomorrow morning. It's not that hard to understand what this dream is telling me, it's just reinforcing what I'm going through in real life. Honestly, do I need the reminder? All I need is some support.
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