My writing style, I would like to think, is unique and does show that I am an individual with a love for the English language and a passion for open and sometime frank discussions. My method for writing is controlled madness, with one eye on the clock and the other on the keyboard, I peck away with all the ferocity of a day before Thanksgiving turkey. For me, it would be hard to summarize my body of work that I have accomplished over this semester. All I can say is that, it does reflect me as a person and me as a writer. I am looking forward to my next English class. I think, that I am going to take a creative writing class, even though I do not know how creative the assignments are going to be. I just hope that I can become a better proofreader and a better splicer.The only time that I do any real brainstorming is on the weekend. That is when we get to do the “you pick” assignments. I usually spend all weekend trying to come up with a good solid idea for what my topic is going to be. That includes, but is not limited to talking over my ideas with my roommate and friends, even if their topics are a little out of the way and far removed from what I would think my style is. I do like to have an audience to talk with, it helps me gather my ideas and begin to work.Now that I am in my mid-twenties, I wish that I had taken my seventh grade typing class a little more to heart. I am in envy of people that when they type it sounds like a machine gun but when I type it sounds like some kids throwing rocks at a tank. I do feel that with my slower typing speed it does allow me to get better thoughts on paper, even if that paper has started to turn yellow with age by the time I finish.
Sometimes I do not know how well receipted my work is going to be? Can anyone over look my style to see my true intent? What do my reader think of me? Should I consider a career in writing? I do love to write and love to watch people read my writings. Who can tell me if I am good enough and if they do would they just be blowing smoke? Am I on par, under par, over par, or should I just ask for a mulligan. Could you answer this for me and email me a response, an honest response?I do feel that this is a good starting point for the whole college paper writing thing, I just do not know how my first ten page paper is going to go down. I do not know if I am going to sail right through it or if it is going to drive me under the keyboard. For me 750 words is not a problem, it is more like a walk in the park, granted that when I walk in the class or open the blogger page I do not know what park I am going to set foot in. I have more of a problem trying to downsize ideas into a nice neat little 750-word document then doing them.I do not know if you can look over the other student blog accounts or how to find them but I would like to see what kinds of writers I am up against, even if I can not match a name to a face. I do not think I know one persons name in this class. I have seen where you can block your blog from being seen by others on the web. I have blocked mine from showing up but it is only on the count that I have not picked any to become made public. After I finish my final portfolio and everything is crossed and doted I am going to put up all of them but except like five or six, the ones that you can really tell are assignments. Some of my family has asked, “Where is your English class blogger site?” and to that I say “ In due time I will let you witness the spectacle that I have made of my English class". In no way do I use the word spectacle to refer to my work as some sideshow attraction nor should the word spectacle take away from my true intent.
Showing posts with label End. Show all posts
Showing posts with label End. Show all posts
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Week #20
This weekend I went to Clarksville Tennessee, to visit my mothers’ sisters’ son. If you were to be within ear shoot of me standing next to a six foot five black man and calling him "cuz" most people would think that I was just using a euphemism but no, he is my cousin. My mother has four sisters, all of them younger, one of them Donna married a black man in the sixties and they had two sons. My cousin Justin is a two tour Iraqi veteran.
Clarksville Tennessee is home to Fort Campbell and one of the largest army bases in the Midwest. Most people would say that Fort Campbell is in Kentucky, which it is, it is just that the right side of US 41 alternate is Kentucky and the left side is Tennessee. With that said, I do not see why any one would shop on the left side of the road, considering that Tennessee has a flat tax across the board of ten percent. That is ten percent on milk, bread, beer, schoolbooks, and new and used cars. I have this idea that Tennessee does not have Powerball so that is why their tax is funny, if they had Powerball then they would have enough money to help school and their communities but they like overtaxing people.
From my mothers’ house, it is ninety miles south on Penneyrile to Fort Campbell. Along the way, if you have ever been, Kentucky opens up from a flat lands in the north to rolling hills as you go further south. It is a really good drive this time of year, with all the forsythias in bloom and the sterile white Bradford pears, daffodils and/or Narcissus. Every once and a while the tree give way to exposed rock cliffs and little creeks that criscross central Kentucky. The only wild life that was present was hawks and buzzards; they are a sure sing of the survival of the fittest rule playing out in the woods and along the parkway. I could not think of a better way to spend my weekend, on the road with my mother, windows down, Sirius satellite radio off, and just the highway ahead.
With much indecision and debate, we decided on the Ruby Tuesdays. That is where we had an early diner. With not a second glance at the menu, I came to the conclusion that I had never eaten at the Ruby Tuesday, even if the decor seemed to spark a wicked case of dayjavue. Even before my backside hit the seat I had been duked, on the way in past the host podium, and around this little corner, sat the salad bar, this is were I was deceived. The salad bar looked so good that not only my mother but my cousin as well, committed on how big it looked and how well stocked it seemed, well this was a farce. The salad bar had a mirror behind it that gave the impression that it was, if any thing, twice as big. So without knowing any better we all accepted the waitress invitation "salad bar anyone".After our meal Justin asked if we would like a tour of the base. This was an opportunity that I could not pass up. I worked at a Naval Air Station in Brunswick Maine and built an aircraft hanger so I knew the gist of getting on and off of a secure military installation. The first question my cousin asked me was if I had gotten my concealed weapons permit yet and if I had a weapon on me. The second question was "got your I.D." and next thing were we on base.
We must have driven around the base for two hours while he showed us the lay out. He lives off base ever since he got back from the war but he showed us two barracks he had lived in. He said that fort Campbell was home to some thirty thousand soldiers. While driving around we saw the jump towers where they train for their airborne status. It was amazing how big the base was there was four different motor pools that were the size of a mall parking lot filled with Humvee and tanks, medical trucks with their distinctive red cross, some Vietnam era tracked vehicles, and a few tank. He pointed out that any building that had a orange triangle with the number four painted on it housed all their toys i.e. guns, rocket launchers, grenade throwers, c4, ammo and body armor all the good stuff.
Clarksville Tennessee is home to Fort Campbell and one of the largest army bases in the Midwest. Most people would say that Fort Campbell is in Kentucky, which it is, it is just that the right side of US 41 alternate is Kentucky and the left side is Tennessee. With that said, I do not see why any one would shop on the left side of the road, considering that Tennessee has a flat tax across the board of ten percent. That is ten percent on milk, bread, beer, schoolbooks, and new and used cars. I have this idea that Tennessee does not have Powerball so that is why their tax is funny, if they had Powerball then they would have enough money to help school and their communities but they like overtaxing people.
From my mothers’ house, it is ninety miles south on Penneyrile to Fort Campbell. Along the way, if you have ever been, Kentucky opens up from a flat lands in the north to rolling hills as you go further south. It is a really good drive this time of year, with all the forsythias in bloom and the sterile white Bradford pears, daffodils and/or Narcissus. Every once and a while the tree give way to exposed rock cliffs and little creeks that criscross central Kentucky. The only wild life that was present was hawks and buzzards; they are a sure sing of the survival of the fittest rule playing out in the woods and along the parkway. I could not think of a better way to spend my weekend, on the road with my mother, windows down, Sirius satellite radio off, and just the highway ahead.
With much indecision and debate, we decided on the Ruby Tuesdays. That is where we had an early diner. With not a second glance at the menu, I came to the conclusion that I had never eaten at the Ruby Tuesday, even if the decor seemed to spark a wicked case of dayjavue. Even before my backside hit the seat I had been duked, on the way in past the host podium, and around this little corner, sat the salad bar, this is were I was deceived. The salad bar looked so good that not only my mother but my cousin as well, committed on how big it looked and how well stocked it seemed, well this was a farce. The salad bar had a mirror behind it that gave the impression that it was, if any thing, twice as big. So without knowing any better we all accepted the waitress invitation "salad bar anyone".After our meal Justin asked if we would like a tour of the base. This was an opportunity that I could not pass up. I worked at a Naval Air Station in Brunswick Maine and built an aircraft hanger so I knew the gist of getting on and off of a secure military installation. The first question my cousin asked me was if I had gotten my concealed weapons permit yet and if I had a weapon on me. The second question was "got your I.D." and next thing were we on base.
We must have driven around the base for two hours while he showed us the lay out. He lives off base ever since he got back from the war but he showed us two barracks he had lived in. He said that fort Campbell was home to some thirty thousand soldiers. While driving around we saw the jump towers where they train for their airborne status. It was amazing how big the base was there was four different motor pools that were the size of a mall parking lot filled with Humvee and tanks, medical trucks with their distinctive red cross, some Vietnam era tracked vehicles, and a few tank. He pointed out that any building that had a orange triangle with the number four painted on it housed all their toys i.e. guns, rocket launchers, grenade throwers, c4, ammo and body armor all the good stuff.
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