Class Room Dynamics

The other day I was sitting in my Philosophy having the best discussion I have yet to have all semester. It was riveting and exciting and productive. As we debated “what law is” I looked around the room and realized just why my class was going so well.... That one girl who sits in the back – wasn’t there. 

Everyone knows that girl. The girl who doesn’t read for class, but thinks she has all the insight. She asks questions by saying “Wait… I think I heard somewhere that umm…  but I don’t know I may be wrong but ummm idk… what do you think?” or asks brilliant questions like “wait what does officer’s mean?” She inhibits your learning and doesn’t seem to understand how the whole class is not revolving around her weekend plans.

I wonder what goes through her heads, but more importantly I wonder what goes through my teacher’s head. I noticed that day in particular that every time she raised her hand he rolled his eyes – which gave me hope that at least he noticed it too.

Classroom dynamics can make or break a class. In this case one person was able to  brake it. But at the same time I have been fortunate enough to have had many classes with great dynamics. It makes me wonder if in a perfect world we could not only choose our teachers but also our classmates. 

The Lone Star Sate

My roommate is from Colorado and we recently had a conversation about all the “you know you are from ---- when…” jokes and how they are funny because well they are true. After Reading many You know you are from Texas when jokes I found myself dying laughing for this very reason. 

I love being from Texas – and I realize we are very proud people, but I don’t see that as a bad thing. We have more spirit and are not afraid to express it. But as much as I love Texas when my Dad rambles off phrases like “Out yonder in the Paw Paw patch….” [yes Paw Paws are a real thing  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pawpaw ] I become very aware of the fact that Texans are indeed a unique breed – But I sure am proud to be one of them!

For your reading pleasure:

You know you're from texas when...

• You no longer associate bridges with water.
• You can say 110 degrees without fainting.
• You eat hot chilies to cool your mouth off.
• You can make instant sun tea.
• You learn that a seat belt makes a pretty good branding iron.
• The temperature drops below 95 and you feel a bit chilly.
• You discover that in July it takes only two fingers to drive your car.
• You discover that you can get a sunburn through your car window.
• You know the best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
• Hot water comes out of both taps.
• You actually burn your hand opening the car door.
• No one would dream of putting vinyl upholstery in a car or not having air conditioning.
• You break a sweat the instant you step outside at 7:30 a.m. before work.
• You realize asphalt has a liquid state.
• It's so hot the birds have to use pot holders to pull worms out of the ground.
• It's so hot that potatoes cook underground and all you have to do for lunch is to pull one out and add butter with trimmings.
• It's so hot farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying hard boiled eggs.
• You only know five spices: salt, pepper, Ranch dressing, BBQ sauce and ketchup.
• You design your Halloween costume to fit over Wranglers and cowboy boots.
• The mosquitoes have landing lights.
• You have more miles on your tractor than your car.
• You have 10 favorite recipes for deer meat.
• You've taken your kids trick-or-treating when it was 90 degrees outside.
• You think sexy lingerie is tube-socks and a flannel nightie with only 8 buttons.
• You can write a check at Dairy Queen for two Hunger Busters and fries.
• You attend a formal event in your best clothes, your finest jewelry and your cowboy boots.
• People grumble about Noah letting coyotes on the ark.
• The preacher says, "I'd like to ask Bubba to help take up the offering." and five guys stand up.
• A member of the church requests to be buried in his 4-wheel-drive truck because "It ain't never been in a hole it couldn't get out of."
• When it rains, everyone is smiling.
• The choir group is known as the "OK Chorale."
• The Pastor wears boots.
• Four generations of the same family sit together in worship.
• There is no such thing as a "secret" sin.
• Baptism is referred to as "branding."
• Finding and returning lost sheep isn't just a parable.
• High notes on the organ can set the dogs to howling.
• People wonder, when Jesus fed 5,000, whether the two fish were bass or catfish.
• The final words of the benediction are, "Ya'll come back now, ya hear?"
• It's a common misconception that everything is twice as big in Texas, really, everything is 1.965 times bigger, but we round up.
• It's a common misconception that the women have big hair. In fact this was outlawed in July 1977. There is a task force and they are doing their best to reach every last woman. Bear with us.
• It's a common misconception that JR Ewing still lives here. That was a TV show people! Come on! Chuck Norris, on the other hand, is a real, karate-choppin' Texas Ranger.
• It's a common misconception that we have killer bees, fire ants, gigantic roaches and mosquitoes and other awful insects, tornadoes, hurricanes, and damaging hailstorms. We tend to think of them as a few bitty bugs and a bad hair day.
• It's a common misconception that everyone speaks with a Texas accent. Y'all just don't know what y'all are talkin' about.
  
  
  
  
  

Snooki: What is the World coming to?

As I turn through my people Magazine I roll my eyes. Yet another article on Snooki? Really? Is that what are world is coming to? Now day’s we have Jersey Shore themed parties, bump its and fist pumping everywhere. Not until recently did I give in to society and watched a clip from the Jersey Shore. Within five minutes I couldn’t handle it any more. What happened to Andy Griffith and Leave it to Beaver?  Shows that didn’t involve casual sex and foul language.

Our societies values seem to be going down a slippery slope. Nothing is private anymore. Even the People Magazine in my hand is an outrage. Once upon a time the only invasion of privacy came from your nosey next door neighbor. Now days, its everyone. People can search you name and look there is your facebook with all your information and pictures. Not that technology is bad – but how we use it can be destructive. It was originally supposed to be helpful and constructive – now a large sector of the world wide web is dedicated to adult videos.

I think I may have been born in the wrong era because the more I see of Snooki the more I want to run in the other direction and climb into bed and watch TV land. Today I challenge you to instead of watching some trashy reality show, grab a book or at least watch an episode of Andy Griffith and relive the good ol’ days. 

How to be a Friend

Be a giver

Be a listener

Be a secret keeper

Be a secret teller

Be a good time

Be a shoulder to cry on

Be reliable

Be courteous

Be a cheerleader

Be loving

Be honest

Be a fair fighter

Be a forgiver

Be non judging

Be a hug and a smile

Be a night on the town

Be a day on the couch

Be a phone call away

Be there forever

Be a friend

"Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, impossible to forget." anonymous 

Be a truly great friend. 

As I look down at my notes I laugh...

not just because I have doodles all down the side of my page. But because of my handwriting. Within a Page of notes I have just experimented with 5 different handwriting. Print Bubbly. All CAPs. Fancy Smancy Cursive. Fast Print. Lazzzzyyy runned together cursive.

In first grade they taught us how to write our letters. We had extra big paper and extra big pencils. They taught us using exercises with connect the dot letters and examples of how our letters should look. But 15 years later our handwritings are not so cookie cutter. We each have an individual style of writing unique to ourselves that is almost completely impossible to replicate. It is also fairly easy to match handwritings to loved ones. I have found several old notes from friends that were unsigned yet I knew exactly who they were from. These tiny changes between how people write their letters is so amazing – that there could be that many ways to just write the letter H.

Pet Names

No I’m not talking about Bengie and Max. I’m talking about those names of endearment our loved one’s give us. I am very guilty of using them. Dear, Love, Darling – are among my favorite. 

But as a creepy guy put his arm around my neck and called me Baby I realized how odd someone our pet names are. But more specifically I question the ones that have to do with food. Do I really want people to refer to me as edible? And why are certain foods better pet names than others?

Muffin

Cupcake

Pumpkin

Pudding

Sugar

And this transcends over languages:

In France one of their phrases translates to: my little cabbage

And in Spanish: My half and orange means my soul mate

Before we know it we will be referring to our friends as Broccoli. 

The key to any relationship is communication...

if this is so, my generation has a problem – and I am partially to blame.

As I send my best friend a fifty word text with not one punctuation mark, she replies with only:

“please add commas – you made no sense”

Whoops. Commas…. Commas what are those again? Oh yeah those beautiful things that add pauses to sentences. Wait. If I want to send a text quickly I need to delete those. They are not necessary right? Only one more button I have to click while trying to text and drive. Might as well save a life and just be confusing. Grammar is unimportant.

Sad but true. These days most of our conversations are sent through texts, instant messages and emails. Unfortunately these forms, although convenient, are lacking one major thing. Voice Intonation. Something only an in person or a phone call can have.  It’s the thing that divides the happy “sure” from the sarcastic “sure”. Otherwise how else is the person I am talking to supposed to know how I feel about them asking last minute to pick them from the airport at 3 am all the way across the metroplex? 

Jeggings

Denim Leggings. Really? Have we sunk that low that pants are too much of an effort that we must sink down the slippery path of fashion suicide. But at the same time I sure history has said that before. Fashion is always changing – and that is a good thing. It changes with society, with technology, with people. Nothing stays the same. So why should fashion? Maybe in a few decades I will see jeggings as classic fashion – but for now I think they are absurd.

Here is a look at memory lane

Inner Artist

Each of us have an inner artist. Whether it is through the words we write, the things we paint and draw, the food we cook, the photographs we take, the music we make – We all have an inner artist and beauty can be found anywhere.

Personally one of my favorite ways to channel my inner artist is through my doodles. I love just grabbing a piece of white printer paper and a sharpie and seeing where my mind takes me. Or looking back at my notes from class and seeing all the little pictures that frame them. Even the tiniest doodle can have something special. Never be afraid to let your inner artist take over – even if it is just for a second. 

Doodles that inspire me:

My favorite TV show

The Nanny. How do I love thee. I am pretty sure I have every episode memorized from beginning to end and have seen each at least 10 times. Sad maybe – but I love it. But in recent years I have noticed how the Nanny has shaped my view of life. I started watching the nanny at the young age of 6 (WAYY to young for a regular Nanny watcher). I sat in front of the tv every night and watched the sexual tension between Fran and Mr. Sheffield and laughed when it seemed appropriate although it would take me years to fully understand all the jokes and innuendos. Now days I have noticed that everything from which side of the bed I sleep on to how I view relationships can be attributed to all the episodes I watched. Unfortunately now I realize that is just crazy and I can’t line up my life to Fran Dresher – although I will definitely continue to watch the Nanny religiously on TV Land. But now I see the power of the media and how it can affect me if I let it. 

My orange Tennis shoes

This morning I put on my brand new Orange tennis shoes. As I slipped them on I was reminded of what kind of statement they make. I want to be different. I want my tennis shoes to not get lost within the other thousand white and black tennis shoes there are running around campus. I want to be bold, unafraid to stand out. Why is it these days – that different has become bad. Shouldn’t different just be considered unique – but no people hide their differences and try to be the all the same cookie cutter people. Stop this. Different is good. Different is fun. Different is interesting. So I challenge my peers. Be Bold, be different. Wear Orange tennis shoes.

What is inside my mind? Mind Map

I have so much more random thoughts in my brain than I ever thought. For those readers who don’t know what a mind map is I’ll explain. Basically it is a creativity tool where you write down your paths of thought. You start with one word or concept and branch into either three or four sub topics that relate to the first word. For example my main topic was bar and I diverged into Soap, Candy, Pub and Exam. From there you keep making branches from each word until your page is full and you have this jumbled web or words. It was actually really exciting to see where my mind would take me. It taught me that I know many more words than I think, and that I am capable of creating some rather cleaver connections and ideas.

P.S. while discussing this project with my best friend we came up with a really good question. In class everyone had different main topic words – But I think it would be interesting to see if everyone had the same word if our minds would diverge the same way or differently. Part of me wants to say that they would be similar – but at the same time looking at my mind map seems to be very unique to me. I think this would be an awesome experiment that I will definitely need to try someday.

Examples of Mind Maps:

I wish I was a child again because...

My childhood was awesome. I can still vividly remember all the carefree days and nights of summer where all the kids from the block would play kickball and four square till the street lights came on. It was definitely the good ol’ days.

Now being 20 I miss my childlike quality of my youth. [Although I still am a sucker for a jungle gym and can never resist a swing set] But the innocence and inhibition of being a child has slowly gone away as I’ve grown up. At 18 my mother jokingly bought me a Barbie’s dream house for Christmas. I decided it would be a waste not to open it at least once before sending it to the attic – so I called my best friend and we decided to open it up. After of hours on the floor I realized several things.

It was definitely more fun now for me and my best friend to figure out how to build it, rather than actually play with it. Which was directly related to the fact that I realized that I no longer knew how to play pretend.

This made me so sad. Where had my creativity gone? Why was it so easy back then? Was I just not afraid of what to say and not to say that I just said anything that came to my mind – or was I actually forgetting the art of playing pretend.

On the same note – as a child I had not one but three imaginary friends [Orey, Pete, and John]. It is still amazing to me (and my parents) how I was able to create three full and distinct people in my head. I wish I could still channel that inner child and loose the worry about if an idea or thought is any good and just have and say it anyways. I wish I could go back to that wonderful fantasyland of being a child.

I think I’ll swing today. 

Italy - reality at it's best

Drama, hookups, late nights, early mornings, 36 girls, 3 boys, one hotel and a foreign country would have made one fantastic reality show. This summer I studied abroad in Italy for five weeks and it was the most amazing and interesting experience of my life  (both in a good and bad way). I have never been in any more social experiment like situation in my entire life.  I have never described it better than in my final paper – which I formatted as a letter to an old friend [ all the page numbers and references have to do with the book A Room With a View we read for class].:

Dear Holly,

            It has been so very long since we have last seen each other, and BOY do I have a lot to tell you.  Italy has been… interesting – to say the least. But what can you expect when you put thirty-six girls, three guys (one of which happens to be gay) and only five chaperones, eventually shit was going to happen. This trip has been the biggest mix of moments of complete utter frustration and those few moments that make the whole trip worthwhile. Excuse me if I bitch and whine a little too much – I do realize I am very lucky to have been able to come to Italy – but sometimes I do truly miss the connivance of America. Although I will say this is most definitely an experience I will never forget or regret. (Despite the fact that I really think it was reality show worthy)

            Okay, so basically I have spent the last month studying Art History and taking a Beginning Drawing class. Overall no big deal. Seriously sitting outside and drawing in the afternoons isn’t all that stressful, and as for Art History going and looking at Museums was actually kind of fun – minus the fact that after a billion churches they all started to blend together (Sorry Giles). The end of the semester got a little more stressful since I actually realized eventually I was going to have to study. What a bummer! Although, in the grand scheme of things its not all that bad. A few drawings, a couple papers and a novel later I am basically all done! Woohoo!!

             Now if you were wondering, like I was, what kind of novel I was reading for an Art History class – I will forewarn you DO NOT go out and buy this book – unless you are looking for twenty hours of British Propriety and a story that could have been told in five minutes. But it was rather interesting in the sense that it was about a girl, Lucy, who came to Italy and encountered a few situations that can be compared to mine – except for the fact that it was one of those mushy love stories that is way unrealistic but somehow people think it is romantic. But it was similar in some ways.

            First off there is the whole thing about how “people told them what to see, when to see it, how to stop the electric trams, how to get rid of the beggars, how much to give for a vellum blotter, how much the place would grow on them,” (pg 7) and much much more. The amount of advice and information I was given before this trip was ridiculous. What to wear, what not to wear – like those jeans and tank tops everyone told me not to pack and then were seen wearing – was sometimes wanted while other times just annoying. Although, I will say holding onto my purse at all times like it was my firstborn son did allow me not to have anything stolen, and be more aware of the numerous gypsy encounters I would have.

            Speaking of gypsies – they are actually everywhere. While in Venice I am pretty sure the same damn gypsy followed me around the whole island. Really? If I didn’t pay any attention to you the first time, why do you think I am going to put a ten-cent piece in your solo cup the fifth time? But forget the gypsies. When arriving in Italy I did feel as Lucy did when talking to her “cousin” – Charlotte – [her very overprotective and overbearing chaperone] about how at first Italy could seem like home. Although Italy is in no way like little ol Rowlett Texas – there are actually things to do here… – but the country sometimes was reminiscent to different areas in the United States – such as California. Although I will say our tiny little town of Orvieto was nothing like I had ever seen before. Located on the top of a hilltop it was quaint and medieval. But I will say if I never have to walk up that hill to the hotel again it will be too soon. 

            Our hotel was wonderful though, and we had a great room with a view – which is actually the name of the book ironically. My and my three-sorority sisters shared a quad room and many hilarious moments. But enough with the sweet stuff and on to my ranting – I would much to prefer to end on a high note than a low one, so I might as well get the venting over with. 

            Much like the book there were several characters and situations in this trip that were problematic. As the trip went by I realized that although the Italians were definitely infuriating at times – it was the drama between the people here that made me miss the quietness of Rowlett. But what do you expect – we are SMU people and apparently even out of Dallas don’t know how to not stir up shit. It took no time at all for people to be staying out past curfew and trying to hoist themselves over windows to sneak back in. Unfortunately for those people, they are always caught – but that’s what you get when you go out and get wasted every night. I show no sympathy. Maybe if I was more of the quintessential SMU girl who’s every conversation must include words such as “like” and “OH MY GOD” and who’s favorite activities include hooking up with creepy Italian men and drinking to the point of alcohol poisoning EVERY NIGHT I might have fit in better. Unfortunately I was after two days deemed “Momma” since well, I have my shit together and don’t like to get drunk. Sue me. From this point forward I was the one taking care of everyone – and boy did I. I have now learned the dangers of someone taking a bath drunk and how much water can actually spill out of a bath tub, as well as the horrors and hilarity that comes from watching over drunks while alone in Florence. But in the grand scheme of things I knew what I was getting into and as Lucy says it is “sometimes as difficult to lose one’s temper as it is difficult at other times to keep it” (pg 23) - there was never any use of getting mad and just realize people were going to be people and I might as well let them do what they please. I will forever be the Momma of the group and I really just should stop complaining about it – especially since it did leave me with great memories of friends thinking they were “Orcas”- yes the whales.

            More great but sometimes frustrating memories did come from the Italians themselves. Despite the fact that I have been here a month my Italian is still limited to about… three phrases – which has caused oh so many language barriers. But more than the language difference was the culture shock. As the book mentions “An Italians ignorance is sometimes more remarkable than his knowledge. “(Pg 67) Oh how many times did I encounter this? The best example is the man in the market – whom I bought a 560 euro jacket from for only 175, go me – who was so set in selling something to me and my friend that he started going on and on about how he had been to Texas before and how close it was to California. Has he looked at a map? Sure telling us he loved Texas got us into the door – because as a true Texas I love talking about how great Texas is – but his lack of knowledge of basic geography was astounding. And then there is the whole thing about how Italians think all American women are cheap whores. Really? Just because I was born in the United States automatically means that if I come to Italy I will let you pinch my ass? No. Some of us might actually have standards outside of creepy Italians.

            But back to my comment about the jacket, I will say that of all things the shopping has been the most satisfying. I have now overflowed my own suitcase into a whole other large suitcase that I had to buy here. And how I will get out of customs without paying my whole life savings? I am unsure – but regardless my purchases are now part of my being. As I bartered and rummaged for the perfect presents I found myself in Italy. As it says in the book, “Shopping was the topic that now ensued” (Pg. 52) and I will say it was a very pleasant topic – besides the fact that I really don’t understand the hours here. At first it seemed as everything was always closed, but instead it was just the siesta - the most brilliant and frustrating invention. I love the nap; I hate loosing the shopping hours. Typical.

            Like Lucy I may have “found daily life rather chaotic” (pg 29), but it was definitely worth it. I loved waking up to the clean Umbrian air and a full exciting day in front of me. But just like Lucy in “A Room with A View” it wasn’t necessarily the place that defined my trip, although I will never forget Italy and hope to return, but it was the people who made it so special. As much as I can sit here and complain about how annoying people got a times or how rude waiters were to us “Americans” occasionally, I love the memories I have. I have made true friends on this trip that I hope last me a long long time, and I have enough pictures to bore you for at least five hours.

            I cannot wait to see you and tell you all the little stories I do not have the patience to write out.

                                                            Love Always,

                                                                        Amy

P.S. I want Mexican food as soon as I get home.

But despite all the bitching and whining I do in my letter. It was truly the best thing I have ever done. I look back now and realize without putting ourselves in new, strange, awkward situations we will never grow as people. (although some of those situations definitely should be on tv)

1928

No comment from the peanut gallery; mind your P’s and Q’s; and the coolest thing since sliced bread.

I hear these from time to time and yet do we really know where these phrases come from?

The Peanut Gallery dates back to Vaudeville for the cheapest and rowdiest seats in the theater.

Mind your P’s and Q’s has to go with the early printing press and hwo the lowercase p’s and q’s were easy to switch when setting the type.

and

Sliced Bread is simply a comparison to the American invention of the sliced bread machine in 1928.

It is amazing to think how these outdated facts have become a staple in everyday language. But think next time you babble out a phrase and seek out the hidden history behind them. 

http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/index.html

Shower Inspirations

Okay so first fact about Amy. I like to write. Specifically Fiction. My brain is always trying to come up with new book ideas as well as working on writing the one I have already started. I am about 100 pages in – and still have so much to do. It actually takes so much more effort than I ever thought and I completely understand the term writer’s block. I can go months without writing a single word.

Okay so second fact about Amy. I like baths. Specifically Bubbly. I find them relaxing. Even if I just have 10 minutes I typically opt for a bath than a shower.

Okay so what in the world do these two facts have to do with each other?

Well the other day I decided to take a normal shower. Thought I’d change up the pace. So during my shower I was reminded of the awesome inspiration what comes from taking a shower. All of a sudden I was flooded with new ideas. Things for class, things for my book, things for life. Everything was so clear in the shower. But just as quickly as these wonderful ideas came to me in the shower they disappeared just as I stepped out. Why is this? Why does the shower help generate my creative juices, yet baths do not?

I think it has to do with the mindlessness of being in the shower. Standing there I am no longer consumed by the thoughts of everyday life. It is therapeutic as everything is literally being washed away and I am left with the brilliance lurking deep deep deep inside. A bath is too serene to accomplish this – it just leaves you thoughtless. My showers on the other hand are the most productive idea sessions – yet I seem to always forget what I think about. If only they had a dry erase board that worked in the shower. Regardless I realized that I should probably take more showers and maybe my creative juices will be flowing more often. 

SMUApronista: What is in a name?

Okay so this is officially my first blog! Yay! Or so I thought…. I never realized what went into making a blog. I felt like I was yet again trying to recreate a MySpace account with all the different settings I was given and had to choose from. And then I came to the oh so ominous blank space “title”.

How am I supposed to pick a name for my blog? This seems like the most important step. A name is supposed to mean a lot right? [Unless you’re Juliette who says “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet"] Am I supposed to pick something clever? Will my title set the tone for my entire blog?

If I compare this to people – I think it may – or at least for first impression sake. Think of the name Vicky.

Any time I think of the name Vicky I will always be reminded that Vicky’s are icky.

We associate names with meanings and other individuals. Think about a parent naming a child. A mom whose high school nemesis’s name was Rachel is not going to name her precious baby girl Rachel. Similarly we associate words with connotations. Smelly for example could mean garbage or flowers – yet when we regard something as smelly it is usually a bad thing.

Okay so my blog title. I obviously wanted something that could not be interpreted in a bad way or that would remind me of an annoying song. The question was did I want to characterize the blog or the blogger. After careful consideration I choose myself because trying to base a whole blog under one umbrella would be difficult and boring. Instead I put the focus on myself (a scary thought).

SMU Apronista. Why in the world would I pick this? Well… I love aprons. Not just the idea of them but everything about them.
I love wearing them. I love the way they look. I love what they remind me of. I love what the stand for. An apronista is… So you are probably thinking I am some 35-year-old mom living in some small town in the middle of nowhere. Wrong contrary I am a 20-year-old girl going to college in a big city. But nonetheless I love aprons. I believe I can live in the modern world where I can surf the internet and blog my ideas and yet go home throw on an apron and heels and cook a well balanced meal, hand wash my dishes – and still have time to do homework and browse Hulu. Apronista reminds me of the world outside of this computer. A world where I can live my life outside of cyber space and try to be the best person and friend I know how to be. Apronista shows you I am a human being. Not just a computer simulated blogger who just knocks out “creative” ideas for some class. I am a person with creative thoughts. [My name is Amy btw]

I hope you enjoy my blog and come along this journey with me as I explore my two worlds inside and outside my computer.