Date Taken: 4/20/12
Setting: Bethlehem and Blue Bell
Thoughts: I started the day bright and early and headed off to do some Summerbridge recruiting after crashing at Josh's house the night before. I love the location of this particular house. It is right off campus, up on top of the hill, looking down over South Bethlehem. From his stoop, I had a perfect view of the steel mill off in the distance. When I look at it from a distance, it reminds me of my ill fated attempts at taking Spanish class my freshman year. After being funneled into my third and fourth choice classes, I found myself in a product design class during my first week of college. After the professor mentioned that we would need to go out and buy wood and metal beams for projects, I knew I had to get the hell out of that class.
I somehow managed to transfer into one of the most popular subjects on campus - Spanish. This...was a stupid idea. I had taken Japanese from 6th-12th grade...not Spanish. The little Japanese I did know would of course, not help me in any way, particularly in Spanish class. I suppose I figured that if I started in elementary Spanish - that is, if I started from the beginning - then maybe it would turn out to be a good experience. It was not. I had class at 8 am four mornings a week...with a room full of people who had taken four years of Spanish in high school and were lazy...and pretended I didn't exist...
Every time I got off of the elevator on the fifth floor of Lewis Lab, I would sigh, take my seat, and stare out the window at the steel mill, which always seemed to reflect my mood with its broken facade and the thick dark mist that clung to its stacks. They provided some semblance of comfort as I pretended I was there instead of in the classroom, pretending to find something important in my bag when the teacher was asking for answers.
Luckily the professor was very kind and when I turned in my final exam, which was mostly in English...not Spanish...she gave me a pat on the shoulder and thanked me for "hangin in there and stickin it out." Mercifully, she did not fail me, but to this day, it remains the one true blemish on my otherwise sterling academic record.
Ah yes, Butztown and Barnsdale...
These two pictures were taken on the North side, which is drastically different from the Southside. There is green everywhere, lanky trees whose limbs hang down over the road, brick sidewalks and quaint shops, giant old homes that resonate with an air of authority and importance. What I love about this particular road is actually the cemetery alongside of it. I will take pictures of it in the summer; the pictures from the car in passing would not have done it justice. This particular cemetery has served as a place for me to sort out my thoughts, a place where I can escape from the constant flow of noise that seems permeates every aspect of life. I like to walk through it in the rain. That kind of weather just seems fitting. I wander through the old headstones, always wondering where H.D., the famous Moravian poet (who by the way is brilliant), is buried, thinking about all of the lives lived and stories that are buried beneath my feet. It is strangely welcoming, as if the people buried there are looking down, just happy to have some company for a little while.
Whenever I cross over the New Street bridge, I like to look over at the Steel Mill. In the mornings, on the way to Summerbridge, it fills me with a sense of peace, a sense of excitement for the day. This isn't necessarily a great picture, but I like it. The steel mill takes on so many different shapes and colors, it encapsulates so many different moods and emotions.
Finally, I took these in Blue Bell. I took a walk to the market (my friends make fun of me for saying market - "what are you going to the farmers market??") and passed this tree on the way back. A few days earlier, Brian commented on the unusual red color of the leaves, particularly since they stood in stark contrast to the cold grey sky. The sunlight illuminated the leaves in a way that made me stop in my tracks. I just think that these are some beautiful images.
Date Taken: 4/19/12
Setting: A hallway in Annenberg
Thoughts:
These two office doors are about 15 feet from one another...
As I ponder what it will be like to begin my own career as a professor, I find myself thinking about what it will be like to have my own little office, filled with books and papers and scholarly paraphernalia. When I would visit my English professors' offices at Lehigh, I was always in awe of their collections of books, often towering above their heads on shelves that ran all the way up to the ceiling. Some offices were cluttered with papers and stacks of excess books strewn across desks and spare chairs. Some had windows, some didn't. Some had posters on the walls and clippings on the doors. Some had boxes sitting outside on the floor where students could turn in final papers. These sometimes messy and chaotic, always book-filled, eccentric rooms always made me feel like I was truly submersed in academia, I had arrived. These offices represented the lifestyle that I imagined myself having one day as an educator of the higher ed masses.
I imagine my office door will be something between these two, not completely covered, not completely barren. I like to imagine it will be a small window into my personality, giving nervous students a glimpse into who I am before they come in to talk about papers and grades. I imagine myself looking up from my appointment book filled with meetings and committees and classes, leaning back in my desk chair, looking up at my little world and wondering how I finally got here.
I came across this commercial the other day and couldn't wait to post it. It speaks for itself.
Date Taken: 4/18/12
Setting: The pictures came from the actual binders that I am talking about in this post.I wrote a post the other day - A blanket, some blades of grass, and bug-eyed over-sized glasses - that I knew I would come back to. I copied a picture below and several paragraphs from that post, for the sake of continuity. There is so much more I want to say about being a member of the soccer team in high school. I took the rest of the pictures I wanted to add, so here is the rest of this post... I like this picture because it reminds me of high school soccer practice. The athletic fields at the high school are laid out in a C around the school. There is a small section of woods between the school and the back part of the C. We used to stomp down through a small trail in the woods to our fields, which felt secluded despite the fact that we were bordered by fields on both sides. I have vivid memories of laying down in the grass on days like the one in this picture and taking in the individual blades of grass directly in front of me, looking out beyond those blades and seeing them stretch out into one giant see of green. A light breeze would blow across the surface, the sun warmed us, the smell of dirt and grass and sweat rising up around me in the spring fragrance that colored my youth.
When high school was over, I was ready to leave it behind. It wasn't all that bad and it wasn't all that good. I had friends in different groups. I played sports. I loved spending time in the dark room developing my own photos but I hated math. I loved seeing my older teammates in the halls, but I walked fast to get from place to place in order to avoid any unnecessary encounters. I went to a semi formal alone and felt awkward as ass, but I went to the prom with a friend who took a great picture with me, danced whenever I wanted to dance, treated me with respect and who will always hold a special place in my heart as the man I went to Senior prom with. High school was a series of ups and downs that seemed to negate each other and leave me with the sense of a very level, even high school experience.
But out of all the experiences I had in high school, playing soccer was one of the very best, and one that I carry with me as an adult. I had been playing soccer with some of my teammates since we were children. We generally got along and had fun together. We worked hard and fought some battles together on the field. One of my closest high school friends, Kate, was my sweeper and whether it was in field hockey or soccer, she always protected me and always knew how to read me on the field. She once told me, when the ball is coming in and I hear you going "uhhhh, uhhh" I know I am supposed to get it. She was absolutely right. During my most insecure moments on and off the field, she was a support system I could count on.
Our coach taught me so many lessons about life and about taking pride in my actions and myself. In the winters, Kate, me, and some of our other teammates would do a winter workout program with him that took us around the hilly streets of Ambler, through the halls of our school, and up and down the stairs in the stadium and the auditorium. Before the season started, he would bring us all into his classroom and give each of us a binder filled with important information about the upcoming season and articles about the team. Each cover was tailored to each individual. One year we walked in to find our middle school selves staring up at us from the binder...a truly horrifying and hilarious moment. He didn't yell, but to hear him calmly say that he was disappointed in us could cut so deep. I still remember him saying this after we had lost a game and were laughing and carrying on during the bus ride home. I was so ashamed of myself. I deserved to be. It was a matter of pride. We lost because we did not bring the best that we had to the field. It wasn't funny. It was pathetic. He taught us to respect ourselves and the game and each other. He embodied the sayings I found taped up in the Lehigh locker room. I went back and pulled out the binders I have from my sophomore, junior, and senior years and took pictures of just some of what was included in these binders. Our coach put so much work, time, energy, and passion into these binders and into making this experience special for me and my teammates. For that, I am thankful.
Here are some of my favorite pages  A personal note from our coach  A quote and our team slogan  A second quote  I am, we are  I am, we are The document above was actually used the next year as well. The original from the sophomore year binder was slightly different. Instead of what is says in the above picture, number 15 said:
"You've got to want it more. As a player, as a team, you've got to want more. We have to teach each other about wanting more and...how to get it."
Looking back, particularly with some coaching experience under my belt, I appreciate this message to us more than I ever could have as a teenager. Our coach's message to us was that desire is something we can control. The effort we put into practice, into games, into our time in the classroom, our social life - those are all in our control. In order to help others or influence others in positive ways, we must first recognize that our individual attitudes, actions, and reactions are powerful and that we must work hard to shape them in positive ways. We then have to, as an individual, work hard to show others how they can adopt similar attitudes and make positive choices for themselves and for others.
While the individual must focus on what she can do in order to better herself , in the end, it is about the team, not the individual. The individual must make positive choices - cleaning up after oneself in public spaces, treating people with respect, working hard, avoiding risky situations and behavior, owning up to mistakes and learning from them - in order to better herself so that her efforts can contribute to the common goal and good of the team. So many people forget this idea and get so focused on their on stats or their own recognition - how can they not when media coverage of sports constantly singles out individuals as the backbone of a team
This quote also notes the importance of pride and self worth. We have to want more for ourselves as individuals, we cannot simply reach a goal and be satisfied. Our coach used to say that you want to work so hard that when you line up on the field across from your opponent, you can look across at them, any single one of them, and think to yourself while feeling very deeply that it is true - I worked harder than you. The time, the energy, the passion one puts into preparing for competition is what can put an athlete's mind and the collective team's mind at ease.
It is my very firm belief that a team is only going to be successful when each individual fulfills her role to the best of her ability, whether it is what she wants or not. As a college softball player, I didn't play nearly as much as I would have liked. I felt short changed in many ways, like I wasn't given the kinds of opportunities I thought I deserved. I quickly realized though, with the help of four years of a Wissahickon Soccer mentality, is that just because I wasn't physically on the field, didn't mean I couldn't work hard or have an important role on the team or make important contributions to the team's success.
On any given team, there will be people who don't start or don't play at all. That's just how it goes. Not everyone can be on the field at the same time. I think that a team needs to have people who are willing and able to fulfill off-field roles with vigor and passion. I cheered on my teammates until I lost my voice and then I kept on cheering. I would rub their backs or shoulders when I could sense their tension after an error or a missed opportunity. I would try to snap them out of funks when they found themselves in one. I developed a relationship with my teammates on an individual level and worked to get to know them as players and as human beings. When I was asked to chase down foul balls, I was the best damn foul ball chaser there ever was. During my senior year, when I was asked to be the score keeper during our games, I was pissed, but I got over it for the most part and took the job seriously. I showed up to practice every day and worked my ass off because in my mind, working my ass off is the only thing that makes sense, even if it doesn't get me playing time. I am not saying that I was the best thing that ever happened to any team I was ever on, I am simply saying that I did my best to embrace my role. That's not to say I was always happy about it or that I was never frustrated or never complained, but overall, I think I did a good job .
Just because I wasn't on the field doesn't mean I wasn't a leader. In fact, I think I was an outstanding leader. When our high school soccer coach told us
"You've got to want it more. As a player, as a team, you've got to want more. We have to teach each other about wanting more and...how to get it."
I think he was trying to tell us that leadership isn't about who has physical skill, it is about how far you are willing to go to fulfill your role. Leadership is about how dedicated you are to the team's goals and purpose. It's about, as he wrote to me my senior year, being a positive role model. It is about being aware of our own actions and how those actions affect others. And, perhaps most importantly of all, it is about being able to connect with all of your teammates and create meaningful relationships with them. Every team needs a hub, a person who keeps everything together when it feels like everything is going to fall apart.
 Ah my middle school self. Bask in it people, it is glorious...and by glorious, I mean horribly embarrassing.  Personal note junior year  You can't tell me I'm not cute  Personal letter senior year These last two documents are pretty much the best thing ever. This is the kind of contract I want to put together for my hopefully-someday-future-student-athletes. Here's what I love about it:
-Right from the jump, it notes that one of the main goals of this program is to teach players about life through soccer. This, should always the goal of sports. As this NCAA commercial notes, most college athletes will go pro in something other than sports. Coaching sports is all about teaching young people how to be self-disciplined, organized, effective communicators, creative, forward thinking, capable of collaborating with others, mentally tough, introspective, unafraid of failure, capable of bouncing back, and just generally ready and able to assess any given situation and make the most out of it.
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| -The coaches present this document as a set of ideals and values. They also note that it is a privilege to play not our right. One thing I can't stand is when people feel entitled to have whatever they want, particularly when it comes to academics and athletics. Just because you show up, doesn't mean you get to start or even play. Just because you turn a paper in doesn't mean you get an A. You have to do good work on the field or in the classroom in order to get the playing time or grade that you want. Even then, you still might not get what you are hoping for, and there in lies a lesson. In sports, you might think you deserve to be on the field, and hell, maybe you do deserve to be, but that might not happen. You have to put your ego aside and find another role to fill in order to help the team. This idea is reflected in the next thing I love about these documents.
-The coaches have listed objectives, which makes their plans transparent and proposes that if you can't get on board with these ideas, you probably shouldn't come back. Self-discipline, responsibility, respect, team - what could be more important?
-There is a list of rules about attendance, which shouldn't even have to be written down, but, it's high school and teachers are basically asked to treat students like children. What I like about this section is that if you are late, it's your fault. Even if it wasn't a "fault" there is still a consequence. Our field hockey policy, which I will most certainly use as a coach, was if you are early you're on time, if you're on time you're late, and if you're late, you better bring your running shoes. If someone was late to high school field hockey, we all ran.
When I coached at Penn Charter, if a player was late for any reason, they had to do a full field sprint at the end of practice. I always thought it was funny when people would come up to me with their excuses about why they were late, because, quite simply, I didn't care. Just go do whatever you are supposed to be doing. One day, the lax team had already started their warm up run. One of the players came out and started giving me her late excuse, then, she stopped in the middle of it, looked up at me, and was like "you don't care do you?" "I sure don't" and then she went away and started the warm up on her own. Ah learning, it is glorious.
-Academic standards are addressed, and ineligibility is punishable, as it should be. Once again, playing is a privilege.
-And, of course, I love the ending. Sports are about the team. It is that simple. When it comes to individual performance our slogan makes it clear what exactly we are expected to do as individuals - practice with a purpose, play with a passion. If every individual can do that to the best of her ability, the team will benefit.
This post is long, I know. It took me several days to finally complete it because it became so overwhelming. However, it feels important to document one of the major influences on my attitude about sports and about life. So many people don't give athletes the credit they deserve, especially when they are college athletes. Of course, there are athletes, particularly in college, that blow off classes and ignore their academic and social responsibilities. But, the overwhelming majority of my student athlete friends were and are classy, hard working, generous, and just generally nice people. We 6 days a week and traveled on weekends. We were playing over school breaks, staying home on weekend nights to do work or prepare for games, maintaining full and rigorous course loads all while maintaining an active social life and an in or out of season practice and game schedule. Not many people can do what we did.
The bottom line is, all of the good and bad experiences I have had playing sports since childhood have helped to shape who I am, who I want to become. When I look back, some of the best lessons, the ones that have stayed with me, came from my experiences as a Wissahickon soccer player.
 Erik was the commencement speaker in 2007 when I graduated from Lehigh. The day was one of the most beautiful I have seen at Lehigh. It was cool out, the sky was bright blue and filled with clouds, birds were flying overhead as we sat on the football field. He was, plan and simple, and inspiration, adding to one of the most special days of my life in a profound way. Really Values.Com...really??
Adam Bender: has one leg. overcame cancer.
Oral Lee Brown: gave a future to 19 poor kids.
Erik Weihenmayer: blind mountain climber. Climbed Everest.
Michael J. Fox: living and working with Parkinson's.
Ghandi: ...he's freakin Ghandi.
Helen Keller: Blind. Deaf. Inspirational.
Alex Scott: Child. Lived as a cancer survivor. Philanthropist.
Jackie Robinson: The first black professional baseball ball player
Marlon Shirley: One leg. Still runs.
Babe Ruth: An orphan. A hall of famer.
Kermit the Frog: a puppet.
According to the most recent Muppets installment, he is a pessimistic puppet to boot. Yeah, he really deserves to be up on a values billboard. What does eating flies and dating a pig have to do with living out your dreams? Also the whole dates a pig line just rubs me the wrong way. Yes, Ms. Piggy is literally a pig puppet, but her character is constantly scrutinized. She is loud, she knows what she wants and is not shy about it, she is physical, she is demanding...and of course, she eats a lot. I can't help but think that adding this line to the billboard has some sort of subversive meaning. Given the fact that having Kermit the frog is on a values billboard among the ranks of actual a variety of human beings that contributed to society in a tangible way makes absolutely no sense and is actually a little offensive, I can't help but think that the dates a pig line is also meant to undercut Ms. Piggy and insinuate something negative about the fact that she is a vocal, powerful woman. The medium is the message people. The fact that the billboard states dating her is part of Kermit living his dream is irrelevant. The billboard itself and the ludicrousness of including Kermit in this campaign is what gives the Ms. Piggy line an alternate meaning.
Perhaps I am simply reading too much into this whole values billboard thing, but the fact remains, this Kermit poster is ridiculous. So are the Shrek and Incredibles posters. Including fictional characters among the likes of Ghandi and Helen Keller degrades theirs and others' actual accomplishments. Ghandi went on hunger strikes for peace, sacrificing his own body and living a life of servitude for others...Shrek...is a cartoon Ogre...voiced by a wealthy, elitist white man who has probably never been hungry in his entire life.
And now, to drive home the ridiculousness of the Kermit billboard...
Ghandi:
"A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history.”
Kermit the Frog:
"Hi Ho, Kermit the Frog here.”
 Date Taken: 4/17/12
Setting: South Street and Penn's Landing
Thoughts: Brian and I took a walk down to South street and on to Penn's landing...and back again. I have to say, I am in good shape, I feel fit, I work out almost every day, but that walk kicked my butt. My legs were heavy and tired by the time we made it back and these old bones needed a rest.
It was fun to walk through those parts of the city together. We spent our first dates in those same places. On our second date we found ourselves down at Penn's landing on a beautiful, warm, sunny afternoon. We lounged by the water and chatted. Brian surprised me with a present - a copy of one of his favorite books, and a book with all kinds of cute kitty pictures. We paged through the kitty book down at the pier while I leaned into him, already feeling comfortable and excited about the prospect of dating him.
As we walked toward that very same pier, we stumbled across some interesting sites. It was just a wonderfully relaxing walk that ended with us eating gelatto at a small cafe on Passyunk. I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon.
I was in the middle of a writing a different post when I remembered that I wanted to look up a class I had discussed with a classmate a few hours ago. I logged onto Temple portal and was greeted with one of the most creepy picture that has ever been used on this site.
Then, when I checked the course catalog, that picture from the homepage was still there, only this time, it was even creepier now that the girl on the bottom left was not covered up by writing.
I felt like her little eyes were boring into my soul and judging, always judging. Why would you do this to us Temple, why?
Perhaps the most feared word in the life of a Lehigh softball player is...Tarp. Tarping the field was always a joy, and by joy, I mean a heinous chore that caused you to be covered in grime that smelled like the tarp itself - dead rat with mildew and mud covered fur. I don't think there was a single time that our team tarped the field efficiently. Every time we removed the tarp we folded it differently, which of course, meant that every time we rolled it out and opened it back up again, a different unfolding process was required to unravel it.
When it was finally unrolled, we would all stomp across it to our places along its outskirts. We would grab a hold of the thick plastic (with no handles mind you) and prepare ourselves to walk it across the field. At this point, there was usually a coach at either end of the tarp, one saying hurry up run, the other walking at a leisurely pace. If you were caught in the middle of the tarp when the one sided running began you had no choice but to hike up your pants and start running too. Now let me just say this, running in sandles or sneakers across slippery grass with a dirty, disgusting, slimy plastic sheet billowing just inches from your head, neck, back, and legs, is not a pleasant experience. Sometimes, we would get chided for running, despite the fact that we were following someone's directions and/or trying to keep from being trapped beneath this diseased plastic sheet. Sometimes, we would all slow to a walk and drag it the rest of the way. And on one special occasion, we experienced the most memorable and simultaneously terrifying tarp experience...ever.
Before I relay this story, I will display a series of pictures that I took at Lehigh yesterday of the team tarping the field. A few of us stood and watched as the team walked out across the field and unrolled it, brought it across the field and put down tires all over it to keep it from blowing away. It brought back a flood of memories of my own teammates lugging water filled tires across the field, brown and gold jackets, team sneakers, and the feel of dirt and sun and sweat. I had to capture this moment on film. This series of pictures demonstrates what successful tarping looks like, while also displaying how quickly a brisk wind can swell up under the tarp and lift it several feet in the air. These image are, of course, integral to the coming story.
The tarping begins - the tarp is flat on the ground, everyone is calm.
The team begins to take hold of the tarp and unravel it
As the tarp is unraveled, some wind catches beneath it, inflating some sections.
The swell of wind continues to ripple through the rest of the tarp
They drag the tarp toward the infield, the back of it rising
Everyone has turned to face the fence, some opt for the double arm pull...that thing is heavy
They pull it to the edge and the last of the air swell comes out as the tarp settles to the ground
This is what it should look like when the process is close to completion
That is what is supposed to happen. On this particular special tarping day, we found ourselves in a bit of a pickle. The wind was so wild that instead of just swelling up under one part of the tarp and then gently flowing toward another, it was rising up underneath the tarp with force and rolling forward like a giant wave about to break and crash down to the surface. With no exaggeration, the tarp was at least twice as high in the air as it was in its tallest moment in any of these pictures. It was being pulled upwards so forcefully that it became impossible to hold onto the tarp. We managed to get it to the in field, at which point, the wind picked up so much that the tarp was literally ripped from people's hands. I can remember not knowing that others were in fact experiencing the same struggle I was, I just held on as tight as I could for as long as I could, but eventually, the tarp was ripped from my grip and my corner whipped up into the air, the edge of plastic mocking me with its waving as it flew up and away.
At this point, all hell broke loose. We were frantic, all of us running, trying to grab hold of it again to wrangle it down. We quickly realized that this task was no longer possible, and our sense of obligation soon turned to fear as the tarp, now completely out of control whipped so high in the middle and we couldn't see each other. On all sides of the tarp a war of sorts was waged. Mendy and Kubi, now trapped inside the backstop frantically started climbing the backstop fence to avoid being smothered by the tarp...and (sorry Mend and Kubi) I believe both peed a little as the impending doom of the tarp became a reality and it pressed them up against the fence. I stood at the opposite corner along the third base dugout. Liz, a former teammate turned grad assistant, was sprinting towards the grass near where Taryn and I stood. After flattening Mendy and Kubi against the backstop, it continued to crash down like a wave. Liz stayed just ahead of the crash down like a skilled surfer navigating a barrel. Taryn, about 30 feet away, beckoned to Liz, flagging her in and shouting for Liz to hurry. Liz ran into Taryn's arms and Taryn tucked both of their heads down toward their knees just as the last edge of the tarp collapsed on top of them.
When all was said and done, the had flown up over the third base fence, over the "dugout" aka our third base side cabana, and up over the media trailer next to the cabana. I'm pretty sure we just left it like that, got the hell out of there, and when we came back the next day, we almost ripped the entire tarp apart as we dragged it across the sharp spiky fence points.
It was by far one of the funniest experiences I have ever had and one that our team will likely never forget. I think this picture, taken right after the incident, says it all. Also, props to Hama for somehow having the foresight to grab her camera and document this moment.
I have so much to post about my trip to Lehigh this weekend with Brian. Most of the info and pictures will come when I eventually catch up on my picture of the day posts; however, I am going to post a few things now.
About two days ago, this very quote popped into my head. I kept saying to myself, the past is history, tomorrow's a mystery and today...wait...the present...hold on, history...mystery...what the hell else rhymes with history and mystery.
I could not for the life of me figure out the rest of the quote. I could have found out the answer online, but I wasn't that interested, so I forgot about it until later. Yesterday I asked Brian, then I asked Mendy and her friend Jenny if they remembered the rest of the quote. Brian looked at me a little funny, Mendy stared at me with glazed over eyes and shrugged, and Jenny at least humored me out of kindness and tried to help me figure it out. We gave up shortly thereafter and focused our attention on our meals of food.
We stayed at Julie's house and when I came down in the morning, I went to open the fridge and literally the only thing on it was this quote held up by a magnet that said "You always know." I was like oh my God, here it is, the quote! Look everyone, look at this. Once again, Jenny was really the only one that humored me...we briefly discussed the idea that the quote should have something about the present...see what we did there...because present is in reference to time like the past and future, and present as in a gift... Come on Eleanor Roosevelt! Get it together. How did you not see that one??
After about 30 seconds of admonishing Eleanor Roosevelt, the others indicated that I might be criticizing her a bit too harshly. But I mean come on...if you are going to make up a quote, don't paint yourself into a corner by choosing words that are so difficult to rhyme that you have to totally abandon the rhyme scheme at the last minute, leaving readers feeling like you phoned it in. And of course, by readers, I mean just me.
Date Taken: 4/16/12
Setting: CVS
Thoughts: I stumbled across this little treasure trove of DVDs at CVS. It struck me as an odd assortment, and I wondered how these particular films came to be side by side on a pharmacy shelf. Quite Curious. I also kind of wonder if the person who stocked this shelf, which by the way, was the only one in the store that contained DVDs, ranked these films and ordered them according to that ranking.
As a sidenote, as a child, I purposefully avoided seeing the movie Free Willy. I just hated everything about it. Now, as I type this post, I am wondering if I didn't want to see that movie due to my, perhaps subconscious at the time, fear of unknown sea creatures. Anyway, I just did not want to see it. I hated the premise. I hated the Michael Jackson song. I hated whale. Then, one day, we are sitting in our third grade classroom, and for some reason I cannot remember, we were forced to watch that movie. I. Was. Pissed. Even as an 8 year old, I knew that I had somehow been wronged. So, there you have it, in third grade, I watched Free Willy against my will - how ironic - causing that moment to be one of the few elementary school memories that has remained with me all these years.
And now, another series of Draw Something guesses by Kip...
The answer, is Frodo...
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Listen, I'm not saying that my picture was the best thing ever, but what I am saying is that I laughed and laughed and laughed as the guesses became more and more frenzied and absurd.
Also, I would really like to know what the meaning of "Grewd" is...is it the double past tense of grew? Is it like when Kady in Mean Girls combines great and cool into gruel...Great + Dude = Grewd? Is Grewd a thing or a name? Is it a movement to eliminate the "e" in past tense words? What is it Kip, for the love of God what is it??
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