Writting Territories

Fear-Those white pedo-vans that sell ice cream in my neighborhood.

Annoyances-Socks

Accomplishments- I am the funniest yet not really funny just kind of weird person I know.

Confusions-Grilled cheese with grape jelly ( so gross, yet so good)

Sorrows-UK Football 2011

Dreams-Live in New Zealand

Idiosyncrasies-Wearing a toboggan regardless of the weather

Risk-Forgetting what is microwaveable

Beloved Possesions-My blanket ( I am so ashamed.)

Problems-Knowing when to let something go.

In fourth grade I got pretty sick. To cut a long story short, we need certain bacteria in our stomach and I didn't have that. As a result, I missed quite a bit of school. On one such day, I was laying on a couch in my basement. It was about eight- twentish and I was definitely not going to school because I had been up all night. I was in the awful situation of being exhausted yet not being able to fall asleep. At this point my mom brings down this cover. It was a thick, sprawling mass of white cloth with periwinkle stripes. And the best part, she had just run it through the dryer so when she put it on me, every muscle in my body left my control and moved to curl up in it. Within twenty seconds I was asleep. When I awoke that evening, I felt completely rejuvenated.

From that point on, that was my primary cover. Every night, no matter what is happening or where I live, this cover is with me. It sound silly to me as I write this, but this cover is one of the only things that has constantly been with me for the past seven years. I think that sometimes we take for granted those things that are important to us because they are always there. But nothing is forever and I am quite aware looking at it now that it doesn't have much left to it. When it does finally become unusable, I think I'll be kind of sad. Don't get me wrong, I wont be devastated to the point of a lost loved one, but it will be strange. I have used it through five houses, three schools, two presidents, basically a long freaking time. I find it funny that something so seemingly unimportant makes me feel so much, but I guess that is in a way applicable to all facets of our lives.

I chose the subject

Fears- cockroaches

Annoyances- disrespect

Accomplishments- being a decent musician

Confusions- why NASCAR is exciting

Sorrows- always breaking music playing devices or earphones

Dreams- makin' the money

Idiosyncrasies- constantly adjusting my body positioning to get comfortable

Risks- does ziplining around Jamaican rivers count?

Beloved Possessions, Now and Then- soap, keeps me clean

Problems- a lot

When I see one of these little buggers I flip out. Whether it's on TV or I actually see one cockroaches are the one thing on the planet I wish I could destroy. Although I have not seen one in years I absolutely despise cockroaches. Why? Because they usually come in numbers and scuttle around trying to confuse people by dashing in circles or no particular direction. If I was in the third harry potter movie my worst nightmare would come out of that closet as thousands of cockroaches. If I was offered to either step on a cockroach or hit it with a newspaper I would shoot it with a gun; that is how much I hate them. Other bugs/pests don't nearly bother me as much as cockroaches. Put me near a bunch of spiders or a cannibalistic rats or a man eating cheetah before putting me near these little bugs. All cockroaches do is screw up your living environment. Another thing that irks me is their horrible hiding capabilities. They hide in shadows and think they're all sneaky and hot stuff but we're not idiots. If they didn't have like 500 babies in a week or so they'd just all die out. Lastly before I stop this rant, remember the little cockroach that was Wall-E's little buddy? I really hope there was an alternate ending where he dies a painful, miserable life.

If you're a human then chances are I don't like you

Fears: Cicadas

Annoyances: Most people

Accomplishments: Being alive?? I can't think of a good one

Confusions: why my computer spontaneously decides to break; what makes cheese its so addicting

Sorrows: not as many people in texas wore cowboy hats as i thought

Dreams: live some where exotic for at least a year

Idiosyncrasies: brushing my teeth in the shower, taking 2 showers a day, taking naps

Risks: going to spain for over a month by myself

Beloved Possessions, Now and Then: my phone, my yamakah (sp?) from my bar mitzvah, my watch from my bar mitzvah

Problems: over-scheduling myself, being nice/polite to people i really dislike

Okay the title's a little extreme, but although I may not show it, I am way too over-critical of almost everyone and that in turn really affects my opinion of people. Everything from the way someone dresses to the way they carry themself I over analyze everything to the point that I make implications about one's personality from simple/stupid observations such as the way they say "hello." For instance, if you were to pronounce the beginning "he" a lot more heavily than the "ello" I would say that you are outgoing, confident, almost to the point of arrogance, and had a somewhat high opinion of yourself that often times would draw people to want to be your friend. You are less insecure than most of your peers, however that would be more of an image that you wanted people to see than an actual mindset. It's stuff like this that has become such a problem for me that I see people in a different, often times worse, light and therefore judge them based off of it. So don't take it personal if i say i don't like you, it's probably more my problem than yours anyways

Germany United: October 3rd; Better Late than Never

On the morning of October 2nd, 1990 East Germany and West Germany woke as separate countries for the final time. Tomorrow they would be united. The Berlin Wall would fall to mark the event, and Germans would come together to commence a new future of peace and prosperity together. This day taught us a lot; regardless of differences, politically, economically, and judicially, country men were always country men and they would always share that between each other. They would always be German, born and raised, and it didn't matter if they came from the West side of Berlin or the East, they would always have a common nationality and history to bond them to each other.

Furthermore, this event marked the beginning of the end for Russian spheres of influence across the globe. Good, the democracy, had finally triumphed over the bad, oppressive regimes the communist Soviets had created. It was the light at the end of the tunnel that signaled a new era of peace for millions of people across the globe. This single event reunited families; brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, fathers and sons, and therefore laid the foundation for a prosperous future as a democratic nation that would lead all of Europe through good times and bad.

Numero Ocho

Fear- getting too close to wild animals (i.e. bears and mountain lions)

Annoyances- when people never mow their lawns

Accomplishments- reading a whole dictionary once (not that i remember any of it)

Confusions- why people are so mean to each other

Sorrows- when i waste time watching television

Dreams- to become a astrophysicist

Idiosyncrasies- picking at my fingers and counting things (somewhat obsessively)

Risks- skydiving

Beloved possessions, Now and then- a stuffed mouse

Problems- procrastinating too much, and being a hypocrite

ever since a was a little boy i wanted to be a gastroenterologist just like my family (thats a gut doctor). my mom and uncle are gastroenterologists, and when they scope people it seemed like they were playing video games, which is amusing to small children. recently though i have been reading articles by stephen hawking about black holes and dark matter. it really caught my attention. another factor that has influenced me to want to be an astrophysicist is the fact that i find chemistry to be just so dang interesting. i am fascinated by how the elements combine to form different compounds. but the single largest thing that blows my mind is that stars created all of the elements 1-28. thats mind boggling to think of. even though im not a huge fan of physics (maybe because ive learned nothing yet) i think that i will try to learn physics and someday hopefully soon i will become a famous astronomer.

Why ice

Fears - Bugs, heights (ironic that a tall person...)

Annoyances - Little kids on the internet

Accomplishments - Not having to look up the word "Idiosyncrasy"

Confusions - Amount of ice people put in beverages

Sorrows - GPA

Dreams - Travel around the world

Idiosyncrasies - Pencil spinning

Risks - Tall places

Beloved Possessions, Now and Then - A stuffed dog

Problems - Next week's blog, How To

You know what I'm talking about, how people fill up their whole cup with ice before adding in the drink. It's just that, whenever I go to a restaurant or a fast food chain, it always happens, and I can't figure out for the life of me why people would intentionally sabotage their own drinks.

It makes sense to put ice in water, because when ice melts, it'll just blend in with the water. But why, why would anyone put that much ice in their cokes or what not? First of all, they're getting less drinks for the buck, because ice is taking up valuable coke space. And that's the whole reason restaurants add so much ice in their drinks, to save money.

But more importantly, they're ruining their own drink. I'm fine with adding two or three blocks of ice to make the drink cool, but when people fit in as much ice as they can into that 32 McDonald oz cup, what are they left with after 5 minutes? A drink that's 20% coke and 80% water. And if that's their thing, that's cool, but I prefer my coke to be pure coke.

I'm not trying to say that no one should put ice in their drinks, nor am I suggesting that I'm right and they're wrong. I don't mean for this to be condescending, it's just that I sincerely don't understand why people put so much ice in their drinks.

These People Try to Fade Me

My Writing Territories:

Fears- Failure; enclosed spaces
Annoyances- Squandered intelligence/potential
Accomplishments- Guts and Mr. Burns
Confusions- A mission
Sorrows- Fake Plastic Trees and wasted time
Dreams- The Fighting Pines
Idiosyncrasies- Nail biting, cedar wood, bourbon balls, hands
Risks- a very sketchy Moon Pie
Beloved Possessions, Now and Then- “Ginny” [gin-e], Mickey, and the “Other Blanket”
Problems- Standardized tests, Great Expectations


Ever since I was a wee tot, I would gnaw my fingers to bits. I have no idea how I managed to develop that nasty habit, because honestly, my fingers were covered with paint or mud most of the time. Regardless, they ended up in my mouth one day and an irreversible, cataclysmic chain reaction was set into motion. My mother eventually came down on me in the 4th grade. She doused my fingers in lemon juice. That didn’t stop me. She put little latex caps over my fingers. I took them off and proceeded to chew. Every day, I was scheming of ways to put my fingers in my mouth without her knowing. About three years later, I unknowingly broke the habit. Unfortunately, that only lasted for about another three years. Now I’m back at it—a finger-chewing maniac.

And now time for a short anecdote: “Olivia and the Mystery of the Wooden Chest”: My mother owns this grand, wooden trunk that she uses to store her bulky, winter-time sweaters. It’s not often when she wears them. However, one day she decided to wear one of her old-folksy snowman sweaters. This, obviously being a seasonal garment, was tucked away in that chest. She put in on, and went off to work. When she returned that evening, I greeted her with a hug and resumed my evening of AFV. About 10 minutes later, I resembled a mildly mutated heirloom tomato. It’s difficult to put a visual into words. So I have generously provided one here for you:




With this in mind, you can probably imagine why I was promptly rushed to the ER, and put on some antihistamine and steroids. At the time, we had no idea what triggered the reaction. It was later identified that I am terribly allergic to cedar wood. And my mother’s chest is, in fact, made of cedar. This wouldn’t make a very good Nancy Drew Mystery Story, because I totally gave away the ending in the title. But nevertheless, a mystery it was.

Why cedar? I DON’T KNOW.


Lastly, I have rather small hands. I cannot open things. This is really all there is to it. There are a number of other idiosyncrasies and mannerisms about me, but this is all I am willing to share with you today.