Response to “The Night Trucks”

Something that I would take from this piece to add in my writing would be the opening paragraph of setting the scene with the description of objects: branches, bed, and the table. I really like the repetition of shadow. I think it signifies some kind of secret and mystery behind loading cattle and the trucks. This is definitely nostalgic; Meyers is drawing on a memory that shows the relationship with his father and brother. I get the sense of that his father died: “We sold them in batches, as Dad has always done… We no longer needed Dad to make the final decision.” This is subtle effect that I believe shows his appreciation of his father for teaching him how to load cattle. I like that Meyers loaded cattle with his father and brother, even though he didn’t necessarily like it: “We didn’t particularly like selling cattle. It was exciting, of course, the dark night, the immense trucks, the contained sense of secrecy and large event in it.” This shows the desire to do something by the feeling of allure or being drawn by something’s presence. 

Comparison of "I Am Not a Vegetable" and "Street Haunting"

In Woolf’s “Street Haunting” she’s explain her various experiences and certain ones are triggers for her to remember her past. I would compare this piece to Emily’s I Am Not a Vegetable piece because her opening scene is kind of similar in the sense that a certain setting can make you feel a certain way. In Emily’s piece she was describing how she felt about going to class and the apprehension of seeing a particular boy. In Woolf’s piece she explains how we are apt to go out and buy something when something else happens along the way. I also think the scene about the dwarf woman dancing and attracting people’s eye is Emily's opposition to her piece--there are that would help and then there are people stand idly by. 

Inspiration from "Street Haunting"- Woolf

I have only really had one profound moment of epiphany: my definition meaning too magnificent to forget. I was a sophomore in high school and it was the week of the OGTs. The math, the reading, and the science tests were unmemorable, but it was the writing test that was unforgettable. We were all sitting in a standard classroom about 30 desks all facing forward in rows of six or five; I was seated in the third row closest to the door. I was hunched over with my face 3 inches from the table completely enamored with my pencil and paper. The topic of subject we were to write on was about changing a school policy and how we would execute it. As dull as it was, I let the words pore out of me. It wasn’t until I was through at least half way through my paper, when I had my moment. I remember completely stopping, putting down my pencil, and looking forward and thinking “Oh my God. I love write! Why don’t I do this as a career?” It’s difficult to describe even now the feeling of clarity, but this moment has clearly helped me slowly discover myself.

Response to “January”- Klinkenborg

This piece seems to focus on the substance hands give to us. My take- away from this essay is that our hands are the way to feel the physical earth. The first paragraph is probably repetitive with hay bales, strings, and twine. I don’t feel like being repeatitive is efficient because it loses the readers interest. I really liked the way he connects to the horses. I think the part about the horses is efficient because he is showing how humans can connect with another species (horses) by touch and sight. I think I would have wanted him to explain more about his actually work on a farm because I felt he was just describing what you are supposed to do.

Inspiration from “A Second Time”- Galvin

My adolescent years: the ones where you had put up with so much. I was a child of a restless, confused, defiant spirit that called for lectures and punishments. The years we had grown and learned from each other. I would always consider you my hero through all the heart-break I had faced and still will face.

The memory of one tear running down my face, when I received the horrible news of joint custody.

The three dusty, old homes we had, that constantly needed to be sprayed with Febreze to freshen the air, when the de-humidifier seemed to be insufficient. Long summer days of climbing trees and being called in for dinner, the little things.

“I want my mommy! I want my mommy!” was what I screamed in the movie theater at the premier of Fairy Tale because I didn’t know how to sit still. The cops coming to interview you to justify whether or not you were actually my father was enough humiliate and embarrass you. By a mere glance at our faces, how could anyone think I wasn’t your daughter but nevertheless mom came and explained. 

The way you always knew exactly what to say, no matter what mundane, childish problems I was dealing with. Those pre-teen, awkward years: you tried to help with feminine products, but could only do so much. Making decisions on what friends to have was always decided on your valued opinion. Learning to control my temper was always put in-check by authoritative reminders of how to not act.

The constant phrase I hear “It’s only temporary”, would ring true for every task or adversity.

Knowing that with the struggles in the past, you were always there to guide and comfort. But most importantly, we needed each other at time, when life seemed rough and meaningless. Thank you is not enough; I’ve been molded by your lessons and wisdom that has helped me see who I want to become.

Response to "Muskgrass Chara"- Dean Moore

This piece is interesting for its sense of smell and the description of the natural world. Dean Moore basically tells what she is going to write about in the first sentence: “I used to love all smells.” She uses her sense of smells as a transition between her children, her father, her house, and being immersed in nature. In the first paragraph, I think I can get a sense of her personality as she says she loves the smell of the beach, which shows her need for freedom and innocence. She also explains her relationship with her children by saying she knew where they have been when they would come home.  I like the switch to sadness about her father being sick, because not all smells are fantastic as she was previously depicting. The third paragraph describes her life as mother; I’m unsure whether or not if she is satisfied with this aspect of her life because it seems typical or obligatory. Her need for freedom comes out when she explains her boat “Chara”. I like the last paragraph because it shows how sometimes it’s good to go into solitary and nature to figure out how you feel, which is relatable and effective. 

Response to "From Two or Three Things I Know For Sure"

I really relate to this piece. The relationship between her aunt and her is very similar to my aunt and I; we think alike and have similar personalities. I think Allison is playing on the idea that every girl struggles with at one point or another in her life. I love how she associates the south as people who pretend that they owed a plantation and then there are those that are considered as trash. This piece kind of goes along of what I was writing about in my personal essay; family has a way of feeling connected to us whether we like it or not. My favorite line is: “Solid, stolid, wide-hipped baby machines.” I think even today’s society, we have this image of beauty and if you are not as Allison puts it “…good hair, curled or straightened to fit the fashion, had slender hips…” then you are considered ugly. This piece reminds me of Elaine Scarry’s On Beauty and Being Just, where it explains how beauty is something we want to replicate, remember and reproduce with. So it begs the question of whether beauty is human nature or our developed perception from advertising companies. In my opinion, I think we are drawn by beautiful things, but when it comes to people, I think we sometimes forget about inner beauty because we are so focused on outer beauty. Allison again describes beauty from her girlfriend as “…that inner quality often associated with great amounts of leisure time.” Which goes to show, that inner beauty is more important to have because at the end of the day if a woman cannot hold an intelligent and thoughtful conversation, then is she really still beautiful?

The Lantern-Bearers

In this piece, I found myself re-reading the beginning because it does not flow with the rest of the essay. Stevenson is giving this anecdotal piece to use the metaphor of Lantern-Bearers, who are the ones that hold the truths in all of life. I did not find this the method of writing effective because the first part has all of description and storytelling that the reader only becomes engaged at the end, when he is explaining the significance of lanterns and how the bearers only know the truth. I also thought the rest of the piece was somewhat choppy and confusing. Stevenson describes different trades and how they seem to harbor different characteristics or traits, such as the Dancer, he explains as “…must have the love of power and disdain of using it, noble character in itself…” To me, this seems unfair because he is grouping a trade into a general consensus where everyone that is a “Dancer” will think or act this way. He then goes on to talk about how certain writers are basically predictable when they express romance or love. The confusing part about this essay is when he criticizes Whitman for being a realist and describing the dullness of a man. My problem with this essay is the feeling that Stevenson is reading too far into any particular subject matter. He thinks that because Whitman is describing the dullness of man that he does not see the beauty in life or the miracles that can happen. This essay is also contradicting: “…dark as his pathway seems to be the observer…” Right there he is saying that we judge each other, but we don’t actually know what is going on behind the thousands of layers built up, when he seems to be criticizing other writers on only their content. Lastly, he ends his piece by condemning melodramas as “without some brightness of poetry and luster of existence, falls into the inconceivable and ranks with fairy tales.” This seems overly judged and untrue. Melodramas have their way of letting people escape from reality, so it begs the question of whether or not this is so bad? I also think he is wrong about fairy tales. The original Brothers Grimm fairy tales were children stories to instill values and to learn the ways of the world, which contradicts his theory of Lantern-Bearers. 

These are a few of the most annoying things…

To start things off, my number one peeve is when someone promises and tells me repeatedly that they are going to do something and then never do.

I extremely hate any kind of miscommunication, it only takes a few minutes to say exactly what you mean instead of thinking everyone will understand what you are saying by being vague.

I really have a hard dealing with people who are completely consumed by technology. You know those kinds of people who immediately whip out their phone if they are standing in any kind of line or have to answer a text right when one was sent to their phone. It’s as if boredom is the answer to see what’s trending.

I absolutely hate when I have been asked how my day was and I go on to explain my typical, ordinary day, when in the middle I look at the person and realize they have not heard a word I have said because they are preoccupied with something else. What was the point asking me in the first place?

I really dislike when I am receiving a lecture from a hypocrite, mainly pertaining to my parents. It’s not like they never made mistakes when they were younger, but they act like it’s the worst thing in the world.  

Those girls who go out to party with next to no clothing on in freezing degree weather, its okay you won’t get frostbite or hypothermia. And these same girls have no respect for themselves; they get treated as commodities and are shocked when they are treated this way.

Those people that constantly talk about what types of alcohol they prefer over others to get drunk off of or those that seem to only care about partying.  

Those people that use cuss words to make themselves seem “cool”, but in reality they are making themselves look highly unintelligent.

Those type of guys who hardly work out at the gym, but to only show off their muscles or those girls that come into the gym with their hair completely done and have on a full face of makeup—who are you trying to impress?

Those people who are either fake or passive-aggressive; they say one thing to you but secretly mean something else, as if you were supposed to understand their wildly confusing language.

Those girls that use “like” about 20 times in one sentence.

Those people that are trying to be hipsters who wear Ray-ban eyeglasses that don’t actually need them to see.

Basically, I really hate anything that happens to me that turns me into a hot mess: doing my hair and thinking it looks perfect until I go out into the wind and then looks it like I have been electrocuted, accidentally spilling coffee on a white top, ripping a new pair of leggings in the worst place possible, etc.

I hate working on a project for hours on end, only to realize I did the project completely wrong from the very beginning and have to start over.

I absolutely hate awkward silence, especially in a car for 3 hours, with people I just met and feeling like I need to fill the silence with chit-chat for the entire ride.

I really dislike thinking about something I forgot before I leave anywhere and then randomly realize what it was I forgot in the middle of the day.  

I am thoroughly repulsed by pickles- smell, taste, consistency, etc.

I really dislike how you have to structure a speech in communication studies; it feels unnatural to rehearse something that fits neatly into a layout.

I hate the idea of selling yourself in order to become successful.

I also hate feeling like I need to give somebody an explanation for simply reacting to an emotion.

Someone I love so much...

Someone I love so much made me feel guilty and ashamed. To her, it seemed the whole world was coming apart because I had not fit into her ideal. She was but a child throwing a temper tantrum, for a decision her younger sister made as a grown adult would. I couldn’t help but to feel obligated to attend her Christmas celebration with her kids and family. The simple fact of it was practically and what I wanted to do; the later being more important. For years, I had shadowed either behind my parents or my sisters, based on what they wanted or expected me to do.  “You think you are so much better than everyone else!” Those were the words that I received from my loving sister, upon telling I was going to skip her gathering this year. I thought, “OK, I’ll do the right thing. I’ll call and tell her I’m not coming.” But no, I was not confronted with understanding or even a civil discussion. No, I was put in my place to feel as if I now owed something to someone.