Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Last Blog

I can’t believe that the semester is almost over. I’ve been waiting for this moment to arrive and now that it’s here I wish that I could have some extra time, and not because I love school, but because of all the homework and studying that I have to do. There never seems to be enough time in the day, but oh well. Looking back on my blogs I think, or at least I’m hopping, that my writing has improved. I’m not sure if my writing style has changed much, but I may have a biased opinion.
With only a few more days of classes I can hardly comprehend how fast this semester has gone. With that said, I want to wish everyone well for their semester exams. Good luck!  

Sunday, December 5, 2010


With this last semester I am severely displeased with myself. I normally read multiple books in that amount of time, however going to school and working full time I have had little to no time to read.  The one and only novel that I did read this semester was “The Surrounded” by D’arcy McNickle. I only read this book because it was a required reading for a class I’m taking, and I’m glad it was, this book enlightening and captivating. The book is about a young Indian boy from the Salish Indian Reservation who, after being away from home returns to his dysfunctional family. The family is based on distrust and secrets. The plot of the book was based here in the Missoula Valley and so it was easy to envision where everything was taking place. The Surrounded talks about the native culture and how the “old ways” are dying and a new way is being born, for better or for worse. This book showed light on the Indian perspective of Indian Policy, something that is normally taught with a non-native standpoint. I highly recommend this book for any reader interested in a good plot with an unforeseen yet predictable ending.  

Tuesday, November 30, 2010


Every Thanksgiving my siblings all come home to celebrate. This Thanksgiving was no different. My brothers and sisters were all here in Montana, waiting to taste my mom’s homemade apple pie. One thing was different this past Thanksgiving, and that was one of my sisters moved out of state less than a week before. I helped her move, and then helped my mom prepare the house for company and make all the food for the dinner. Needless to say, this was a very busy week for my family. After we had Thanksgiving dinner, my brothers and I decided to use the snow to our advantage and go sledding with the four-wheeler. This was a lot of fun, but I do have several nasty bruises from being tipped in the toboggan while being pulled by the four-wheeler. Other than a few bumps and bruises this Thanksgiving was very relaxing, and I can’t wait for the next break!   

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Got Milk

                The snow was falling fast. Driving, even less than twenty miles an hour, the snow was zooming past me, giving the illusion that stars are rushing past like it does on Star Wars. The weather man on channel three called this the “worst blizzard in fifty years.” He seemed so excited as he said this, as if he thought the snow would end world hunger. 
                I didn’t understand why milk was so important, so crucial, for morning, I don’t see why he couldn’t go one morning without his blasted cheerios, and we had plenty of other breakfast items. Nonetheless I was still driving in the worst road conditions known to man.
                The car in front of me was slowing, I gingerly tapped my break, trying to not fishtail and lose control of the car. The other car then slowly, painfully slow, turned. I was then alone on the road. Well, for as far as I could tell.
                In normal weather, it would only take me fifteen minutes to reach the store and then back. I had been gone for over forty minutes and still hadn’t reached the store. I debated whether to turn back and brave the roads on the return, but I was so close. If I turned back now, the snowy road would win. I couldn’t let this happen.  I gently pressed harder on the accelerator determined to reach the store faster. I had to hurry, there little time to spare. As the needle climbed higher on the speedometer, reaching thirty, the snow came at me faster. I could hardly look out the window without a glaring headache pulsing through my temples.
                The road I was traveling usually had many cars scurrying about trying to get from A to B as quickly as possible. I found it strange that I was the only one on it tonight. Maybe I was only person who was crazy enough to travel in this weather.
                The phone on the passenger seat started to ring. I quickly glanced at it and then back at the road. Did I dare answer it? Whoever was calling would understand why I couldn’t answer. What if it was… I peeled my eyes form the wind shield and found the phone and grabbed for it. I clicked that answer button and pulled it to my ear.  
                I lost control, and I didn’t know why. The air bags deployed and hit my chest as my car continued to spin on the road. When the car stopped I was breathless. I couldn’t tell it I could move yet, so I sat, breathing hard, trying to comprehend what had occurred.  
             Carefully, I climbed out to check the damage. The front of my car was dented; I couldn’t see the extent of the damage because of the darkness. How could this happen? How could I let this happen? What had happened? The light from the head-lights shone across the road and rested on a deer, laying in an unnatural way.
             What the crap was a deer doing out in this kind of weather walking across the road?
 Probably the same thing I was doing, getting milk. 

I read A&P by John Updike and The Red Dress by Kevin Canty. I don't think that the either of the stories influenced me, but who knows. This story came from, literally, out of nowhere. The snowy roads though are probably the product of the fluffy white stuff out my window however. I hope that anyone reading enjoyed it!  

Tuesday, November 16, 2010


                In Cathedral, by Raymond Carver, the main character showed his jealousy throughout the majority of the story. When the story first begins the narrator, the husband, tells us that his wife’s blind friend is coming to visit. The narrator doesn’t sound pleased that the blind friend is coming to stay because he goes on to describe how his wife is in constant communication with the Robert, the blind man.  The narrator, to me sounds as if he’s very insecure about who he is and where he stands in life. Even after he shows he’s jealous of Richard’s arrival, the narrator talks about his wife’s ex-husband. The ex-husband is an officer and seems to have made himself into something. Though it doesn’t say what the narrator’s job is, it is very evident that the he’s jealous of the ex-husband job as well as the attention that his wife gave to him.  He wants desperately to be to be recognized by his wife and given attention that he hates that he’s not even being mentioned when Richard and his wife are talking after dinner.
                I think that the metaphor with the blind man’s disabilities and the narrator is that Richard tried to educate himself about what was in the world so he could envision it. While the narrator was blind due to not caring about any object.
                Carver’s writing style was hard to read when I first started. After a while it became easy and I could envision the scene taking place. His writing style left room for the imagination to create.  Even though I did come to appreciate Carver’s writing style, I prefer to read a complete sentence any day.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Some Writing Tips that may be Helpful!

Proof Read!
After writing a long paper I have a hard time going back and re-reading it, but I do it anyway for the sake of a well written essay. Even then I always miss some grammatical errors or spelling mistakes. So my solution is (Drum roll please) to have my amazingly smart sister read my papers and tell me what she thinks, and fix whatever mistakes she sees. Now I know that most people are running a tad bit short on the “smart sister” supply, so I guess the next best thing is for someone they deem as “smart” to take a look at their piece.
Just write, don’t stare blindly at the computer screen until 2 a.m.
 For me getting started on an essay is the hardest part of writing. I can hardly count the number of times where I have just stared blindly at my computer or out my window, waiting for some inspiration to just appear by flying space craft or Devine intervention, and it never happens. I think this statement is worth saying twice. IT NEVER HAPPENS. What I’ve found helpful is to just write about anything, even if it has nothing to do that pertains to the topic. True, I have had to delete many an unfinished essay because it was awful, but it did start the “creative juices” to flow.
 Don’t depend on just Microsoft Word to catch all of the mistakes
Microsoft Word can be a very good friend, but through personal experience it has proven to be my worst enemy. Let me explain, I’m the worst at spelling, so when I write I just tend to write and make spelling mistakes planning to go back and fix them. Microsoft Word has a different plan. This program thinks that it should fix these mistakes for me, instead of waiting patiently like a good computer should do. The program then takes the words and turns them into words that I didn’t want and often enough don’t make sense with what I’m writing. Sometimes I catch Microsoft in the act, most the time I don’t.
Procrastination is our enemy
 Many times I find myself waiting until the last possible second to write a paper, or do any homework for that fact. It’s human nature to want to put off those horrible assignments that ruin our nights and weekends. This is still one of the hardest things for me to do, to just do my homework in the very beginning so that I can have a free weekend and not have to worry. If I do the assignments right away then they would be even better because I’d had more time to go over and correct them, and I would have much more free time on my hands as a result.
Have fun
If the paper I’m writing is boring and I hate writing it, I know that whoever is going to read it is going to hate it just has much as I do because it shows through my writing how much I didn’t care about the subject. Plus, the teacher is stuck reading whatever I turn in, and they don’t want to be stuck reading some idiotic essay that’s as dry as sand. So take some pride, make it interesting, have some fun, and show them what you’ve got. Just remember these few simple words: If you can’t stand writing it, they’ll hate reading it.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Can I tell Two Truths to Get across One Lie?

1)      I have always been known as the accident prone one. However, throughout my entire life I have never broken a bone, much to my satisfaction. Uh oh, know I think I might have to knock on wood now!
2)      I have a very large family. I would tell you the number of family members that I have (which would include first cousins) but I have no idea the number due to the fact that my family is so huge it would take forever to count. Plus, it would be slightly embarrassing to say the number.
3)      If anyone has noticed in class, my hair color is blonde, but my natural color isn’t. I was cursed from birth to have an ugly color of red hair. It isn't fair because my sisters have beautifully colored hair. I guess I drew the short end of the stick when it comes to genes.