Short Story Awesomeness

Your short stories are seriously awesome. I'm glad now I'm not the only one who gets to read them...

They tell me I am happy (Dakota S, 3rd)

With a sooty rag he scrubbed away at the filmy glass, and sneezed a few times in the process. (Alex W, 6th) 

“Finding where you belong in this world is one of the most difficult things we face as humans.” It’s written on the wall above my head, I don’t know who wrote it but it’s been there longer than I have. I always thought it was written by one of the Firsts. (Ethan K, 6th)

He had now been walking the basement for hours. (Jack B, 3rd)

A sigh escapes her. A breath of fog appears on the window, clouding the morning. With trembling fingers, she removes the key from the ignition. A beat, a pause, and she sits, her fingers clenched around the solidity. (Annabel N, 1st)

I looked out my window to see my grandma sitting in the back of a red convertible with hot red flames painted across the sides. (Ben G, 1st)

It was November of 2006. She woke up to the bright glimmers of the snow slowly seeping through her window. Friday, she thought to herself. It’s Friday. Something was tugging at her. She couldn’t put her finger on it. (Molly S., 3rd)

Once upon a time there was a girl named Victoria. Wait, let me start over. The beginning is used in fairy tales and this isn't close to one. (Karina R, 6th)

The kiddos loved drawing so damn much that they started anunderground Draw Club.
1st rule of Draw Club, Don’t talk about Draw Club
2nd rule of Draw Club, (You get the joke) (Dan W, 6th)

It’s high noon in a small, generic western town.  (Robert C, 3rd)

He winked at me as I boarded the train and passed through the men’s section to the back of the bus where my wife was waiting for me. (Hannah K, 3rd)

Today, I found a cave. Not just any cave. This one is darker than anything I have seen in my life. (Keenan D, 6th)

Liz had been alone for ten months now. (Jordan R, 1st)

All the readings seemed normal, I thought as I recorded my findings into the database. My cat, Meep, meowed next to my feet, begging for food. (Ginger B, 1st)

New York pulsed in the morning, sirens its pacemaker, its arteries more congested than Paula Deen’s. (Daniel I, 6th)

Anybody would have pinned him as just a tourist walking down the streets of Spain. (Robert W, 3rd)

As the day begins, Mike awakes from all his sneaker boxes collapsing and his alarm clock going off continuously. (Francisco A, 6th)

They left me. 
The mothership took off with my brothers and sisters and they just left me behind. (Josh B, 3rd)

You open your eyes, a bright stark white rapidly engulfed by pitch black nothingness.  (Rodrigo G, 1st)

About two decades ago the Kingdom found its new bounty and it came in the form of a new dimension through a door in the ruins of the city of Obscurity.   (Gaurav B, 1st)

There was no light in her eyes. She stared pointedly at the table. Even her tears were long gone. (Haley Rae, 1st)

On one half of the world the day was perfectly fine; on the other the night was one of the most peaceful one could hope for.  (Will B, 6th)

Blog Carnival #2: My First Car

This is my first car, a 1982 Oldsmobile Firenza that I named "Burner." 

Don't laugh. 

It was as stick shift so I felt like a race car driver. 

It had a little orange light on the dash that would light up and say "shift" when it was time to shift to the next gear. I hated that light. I covered it with an "Abolish Apartheid" sticker so that instead of telling me to shift all the time, my car would light up to make a political statement instead. (South Africa officially abolished apartheid in 1991, btw--I'm sure it was all because of my car). 

And even though I never would have chosen the color, or the family four-door styling, I loved this car. It was my freedom. 

My wheels. 

It's decorated here for homecoming of my senior year at Northglenn High School (not sure why I wrote "NGHS" on my car when Northglenn is clearly one word, so NHS?). 

This is the car that terrified me until I figured out the clutch. All it took was my brother John taking me for one driving lesson after my mom had tried to explain to me how the clutch worked. Her explanation did not work. John's did. 

This is the car that used to take me on afternoon adventures where I would point at the mountains and just drive west from Westminster until I hit them (ended up in Eldorado Canyon one day doing that). 

This is the car that went on Slurpee runs and through the drive through at Taco Bell umpteen times for taco salads and bean burritos. 

This is the car that used to drive too fast through the abandoned drive-in movie theater, catching air on the little hills that you would park your car on so your seats would be appropriately reclined for viewing the screen (don't tell my parents I did that, k?). 

This is the car I got my one and only speeding ticket in. The car I wrecked (totaled actually, but we fixed it anyhow--see you can't even tell in this picture, can you?). (Okay, so maybe 16 was my worst year of driving--totally safe since then). 

This is the car that Jeremy borrowed on homecoming afternoon so he could pick me up to take me to dinner and to the dance (after he spread rumors that I said I didn't want to go to homecoming with him anymore because he didn't have a car himself) (I DID NOT say that). 

This is the car that lost its muffler when I went over train tracks too fast trying to find Paris on the Platte (again, the year of 16). 

This is the car I sat in after my junior year spring band concert where I found out I had been selected as drum major for senior year--I turned on the radio and "I wish It Would Rain" by Phil Collins came on, and I knew it was a sign from the universe that my senior band season was going to rock (we had taken state sophomore year in the rain, so the rain had kind of become this thing for us). (see the photo below for evidence of how we did indeed rock our senior season)

This is the car the trumpet section blocked in totally--like completely surrounded with cars on all sides--after marching band practice one day while the color guard captain and I were talking with the band director. They blocked in her car too, and none of the perpetrators were anywhere to be seen to move their cars. We were stuck. So we pushed Paul Teddy's Jeep onto the baseball field and I think somehow locked it behind a gate? How did we do that?

This is the car that I drove in with the windows down and the music blasting on summer nights--cool night air my companion as I drove home by curfew. 

This is the car that stalled out on me at the Quebec street exit off of 270 one frigid below zero December night. The heat wasn't working either, and I had just driven from Boulder, and I was dressed for the ballet that I was going to with Becca (no boots, no warm socks...). I thought I was going to freeze there on the shoulder of the exit ramp, but somehow I got it to start again and limp along for another couple of miles, which was far enough to get me where I was going. 

This is the car that took me to college. 

This is the car I sadly had to say goodbye to in 1994, replaced by a white Ford Escort named "Snoopy." What an annoying car--but I won't complain. My parents handed me the title when I graduated from college. It never once broke down on me (not even when the tires were horribly worn and Snoopy was loaded down with all my worldly possessions as I moved from Missoula to Seattle in 1996--not sure how the tires didn't explode on me on that drive). 

I miss that car. 

color guard captains Keri and Beth, drum major me, drum captain Eric, holding our state championship swag

doing my drum major thing

So it Goes; let's be kind to one another: Blog Carnival #1 (6th)

Dear Sam, Stefan, Michelle, and Karina,

Sam and Stefan, you both wrote about So it Goes. For Stefan it captures how he has dealt with a personal loss. And Stefan, your story helps to illustrate why it's so important to treasure our time and make the most of it, as Sam has now figured out.

Michelle and Karina--you both wrote about dogs. Michelle volunteers every weekend to help take care of the dogs at the Humane Society. And Karina's story about how she lost her dog, Princess, is heartbreaking.

All of these posts remind us that we need more kindness in our world, as you say, Michelle.

Thank you, all four of you, for your stories and for making meaningful connections to Slaughterhouse Five. You've provided some thoughtful things for us to think about today in this first Blog Carnival.

Most sincerely,

Doc Z

Along The Road, good guys/bad guys, love, fear, happiness, and sharing your leftovers: Blog Carnival #1 (1st Hour)

The Road is getting you all to some very interesting thinking about your research.

Let me explain. Sophie wonders, is it easier to be a good guy or a bad guy? For Tatiana, fear and love work together--and fear of losing someone she loves crippled her once. Read her post for the story. Izzy G writes of her grandfather, and the powerful example he was to her of unconditional love. Ginger's post will make you wonder about what you would do if a homeless person asked you for your Cheesecake Factory leftovers. Would you share? If not, why not? Niraj makes the point that sometimes the best option is NOT going out with your friends. He chooses to stay in some times, but he doesn't worry about missing out. He has good reasons. Happiness might be the ultimate thing that drives us, according to Izze B. Kyle's post reveals the lengths he goes to for love. Would you give up your morals because of fear? Read Tony's post to ponder that. Sienna is trying to figure out what it's all about--life, that is. I bet some of you are on a similar path. Emma ponders fear of strangers.

What does this all of to do with The Road? A lot. I guess you'll have to read to see how. Don't forget to leave comments to respond--share your own stories, ask questions, explain where you connect with your classmates' ideas. Have fun at your first blog carnival!

Strength, water, fears, kindness, Star Wars, and staying alive on the Road: Blog Carnival #1 (3rd hour)

(a host post poem)

Being alive
is the most difficult challenge
we all face (Haley).

Do you agree?

Or do you fear
being average? (Reci).

What's inside of the VCR-- (Collin)
Cars, airplanes, Eqypt, or Star Wars
perhaps.

You have the strength
to survive zombies. (Mitch)

But maybe not
if you don't have water. (Josh B)

Kindness is weakness? (Karen)

All things to ponder along The Road.

(and Molly's)

SLCC Blog Carnival #5: Your human themes for this semester

Our big question for this year is this: How do you read the world to write your future?

Hopefully your research this semester will help you start to figure that out.

How do you write a future full of happiness? What role might control play in such a life? But everything changes, right? How will you ever hold on to your youth? Maybe if you stick together you can do it, despite the difference you will encounter in our crazy world. And then there's money, and the greed that comes with it. Plagued by fear and uncertainty, we'll all wander around, sometimes aimlessly. So look for the love and let it be your guide. Find your passion, collect your experience, question your opinions, and let it all be an adventure, life.

Read your world (and all the texts you get your hands on this semester) with the lens of your theme guiding your thoughts. See what you can find that will enable you to write your own future.

Tristan: happiness
Dana: control
Fenno: control
Addie: change
John: change
Riley: youth
Matt: together
Ian: difference
Kyla: greed
Joey: greed
Colman: greed
Erik: money
Anna: fear
Ben: fear
Ryan: fear
Madelyn: fear
Daelin: uncertainty
Eddie: love
Cecily: passion
Jane: experience
Mike: opinion
Nick: adventure
Emma: equality
Owen: ???????
Mallory: unsatisfied

Oatmeal Obsessed?

You people have been laughing at my oatmeal habits.
And yes, the habits probably ARE laughable.
But this topic, obsession, has gotten me to think a bit about my daily breakfast routine and why it matters so much to me.

Oatmeal before the milk step.

Let me describe it to you first: into the oatmeal pan (yes, the same pan every day), I scoop one half cup of uncooked, old fashioned oats. Then one cup (plus a splash) of water. I put this on the stove on high. Then I get a small plate out of the cabinet and the container of raw almonds out of the fridge. I grab a handful of almonds and put them on the plate and count them--2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, 18!--it's a great day when I grab exactly 18. I do most of the time actually. I put the plate of almonds in the microwave for 2 minutes. Then I check the oatmeal. If not already, soon it is boiling, so I remove it from the heat and stir it with the spoon I'll use to eat my oatmeal. While still in the pan, I add cinnamon and a few raisins. After I scoop it into my oatmeal bowl (it's a handmade work of pottery with a beautiful blue glaze), I put some frozen blueberries on top and stir those in. I wash the oatmeal pan and set it aside to dry. I take the almonds out of the microwave when they finish and place the oatmeal bowl in for 30 seconds (to thaw the blueberries). In the meantime, I choose a pear from the fruit bowl and slice it up and put it into a plastic bowl (so I can take it in the car with me if I'm unable to finish it before it's time to leave for school). When the microwave dings, I retrieve my oatmeal bowl, toss the 18 toasted almonds on top, pour a bit of 1% organic cow milk on top of the oatmeal/blueberry/raisin mixture, mix it up with the spoon, and carry my breakfast to the dining table to sit down and eat.

You may call me obsessed when I tell you I do this entire process, exactly like this, every single day. You may call me obsessed when I tell you that one of the most difficult things about traveling for me not having this morning routine. (Thank you, Starbucks, for this.) (And I'm sorry, McDonald's, but I will never eat this.)(Because I don't eat at McDonald's.)
And maybe I am obsessed, but this is all important to me.

Mornings have always been extremely difficult in my world (though ever since I turned 40, mornings are becoming a little bit easier. Strange, eh?) I'm not sure why mornings are rough. It doesn't seem to matter how late I've slept in or how many hours of sleep I have gotten, that first hour or so is rough. Part of it is physical--I have some form of arthritis (arthritis as a whole is incredibly difficult to pinpoint and diagnose specifically, so I'm not sure exactly what to call it), and my body in the morning is slow and stiff and sore, some mornings more than others. That's a huge part of it. But well before I was dealing with that in my life, I struggled right out of bed. Speech is difficult (beyond single syllable utterings). I don't like people in my physical space. I can't handle extra noise, not even the radio on morning NPR news. Every morning is an epic battle with my alarm clock to pull myself out of bed.

But the oatmeal routine helps. It's less the meal itself than the process to create it. All of the motions create a ritual--my morning ritual to start my day. It's meditative. It's predictable. It's quiet. There are no surprises. I know exactly what to expect. And somehow, going through all the steps helps wake up my body and mind. After the routine, I'm more ready to face the day, whatever it brings.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

If you've gotten this far, you might as well check out my photos from spring break last year to see the photo I told you about--the one where my daughter demonstrates absolute and total fear on a water ride at Sea World (it's toward the middle of the collection of photos--scroll and you'll find it).

Blog Carnival Edition #1: REBEL

This first edition of the Zerwin SLCC Blog Carnival was an interesting exploration through different aspects of rebel, rebellious, rebelliousness...

It was clear how much Chris McCandless was attached to this concept for many of the bloggers who responded to the call for submissions. Many (like Dana) pointed out details from his life that make him rebellious, except for Esther who wondered if maybe Chris wasn't a rebel actually--just really selfish (and be sure to check out Dana's post for a link to a very cool video someone did while hiking the Stampede Trail). There were lots of thoughts about what kind of rebel CM was. Tristan found him a stubborn rebel (after some compelling reflections on rebels in Syria--what is the planet to do about Syria, people?). Ryan asks his readers (that's YOU in case you're wondering) if CM's death was justified because of his discontent with his family or if we can just explain it by his naivete (answer his questions in the comments after his post). And Max traces how CM's rebellion had significant effects on other people and still does to this day.

Beyond the world of the book, there were some interesting reflections on rebellion. Owen shows how rebels have improved humanity and makes me think about how I believe love is the most rebellious act there is. Don't you think? Isn't that what Harry Potter is about? Harry wins in the end because he fights for love, right? And Voldemort is incapable of acting through love so he cannot beat Harry in the end. (Are you people Harry Potter fans? Or is this the last time I should bring that up in this class? Please advise.) Fenno discusses several rebels in history who have made things better for people and makes me wonder if rebels must by definition be visionary. I've been pondering that since I read what Fenno had to say. Erik suggests that teens rebel because they learn rebellious behavior from adults. Very interesting. What do you all think? Do teens get called out for the same rebellious behavior that adults show all the time? 

Good or bad, rebellion IS popular, as Madelyn points out with connections to three compelling articles she found on the internet. Cool stuff. And Addie's post takes on rebellion within a very specific context: the traditions and trends surrounding makeup. More cool stuff.

Finally, Ms. Maytum's post contains a hilarious list of rules that she wrote for her room when she was 6 and a half and talks about how rebellion worked in her life as a teenager and how it shows up in her life as an adult. There are contradictions--she reflects over them to arrive at her own understanding of what it means to rebel.

Thanks for your thoughtful submissions to the first edition of the blog carnival!

p.s. Here's Jake on rebellion in a rebellious world. And Colman. And Daelin on punk rock. And Riley on Fat Amy. And John's thoughts on CM. And Ian's thoughts on the various types of rebels in the world.