A Reflection on the Not So Distant Past

Looking back at the beginning of this class, I see the writing of a girl that just wants to get the assignment done. I see nothing more than bored rambling and something to pass the time. Now, when I reread my more recent ramblings, they seem… deeper. More thought out. Like I can put down my thoughts in a way that I couldn’t before. I believe that my biggest success for this semester has little to do with my writing itself, I mean that as grammar, structure etc. and more of what Ms. A commonly refers to as our fluency. Even in my other classes I see that writing my essays and getting my thoughts down comes easier and much clearer. Failures, on the other hand, mostly center on anything that deals with something I am uninterested in or anything that is research based. I much prefer creative writing and things where I do not have to cite facts. In college this will probably become a bit of a problem and it’s something that no matter what i am going to have to do and even do well. As writer I believe that I have both changed a lot and not much at all this semester. It comes quicker and my typing itself is faster. I feel more confident that I have the ability to write great things of I put the effort into it. The prompts that we the most helpful to me have been the ones that make me think. That make me really want to make me explain my thought process. The ‘easier’ ones that had to do with food or sports I kind of rambled on and they held no particular value to me. They were just assignments. However, for example, my thoughts about the Oath of Harati by Jaques David really made me look at the painting in depth and think. While I have to admit this has been the most unstructured, fun, and laid back English class that I have ever had the pleasure to take, it has also been the one that I learned the most about myself. I am going to miss every one of my classmates and our lovely instructor, Ms. A.

The oath of Harati by Jaques David.

This particular neoclassical painting upon first glance seems to be of swords being held away from the three warriors while with further inspections, is nothing of the sort. The faces of the three men share a likeness that rarely occurs outside of siblings; the skin tones, the noses both point toward close relations. There is no malice upon the men's faces and the arm being wrapped around the foremost man suggests a companionship as well. The stances of their feet point toward deference to the man holding the sword while the spear on the far left is held loosely and out of the way threateningly. Also a thing to point out is the open palm the man to the right is holding out with his right hand infers a sense of power over the three. Then I can glance to the far right of the painting and I see not women cowering, but women and children resting in exhaustion . This is not a direct scene of war, but of what I would assume to be a father giving his sons their weapons for the defense of his family.

Essays and Freewriting

Write your Happily Ever After

My Happil every after begins with a peanut buter cookie. Why a peanut better cookie you ask? Its because ists the bestest pb cookies you couldever have. 6 inches in diameter and a half inch thick, made with crunchy pb and all its yumminess. For a little extra they added mand ms to it. Yum. Now at first this cookies meant nothing other than a means to eat it but as I took my first scrumptious bite, I choked. You see, I was 2 weeks old. My sister kira didn’t realize a tiny baby like me couldn’t chew a marchmallow much les a cookie. Such begins a fascination with baking. If I were anyone other than my lovely self i would probably auire a phobia or something about flat and round baked goods. But no. I still live them .

Its was 14 years later and I started to think I knew EVERYTHING when I decided to create THE MASTERPIECE. It was a pie. Lemon meringue to be exact. The crust all buttery crisp and flakey and the lemon tart and clear. The meringue wasn’t weepy and rose high to the eaks. Well what I hadn’t told you yet is that I ws about to bring that pie to a fair. And that fair is my one way ticket into college.

And college….

With one piece of clay you can…

Create happiness. Oung, old. Childish or stern. Clay is the basis of creatvivity. Unlike paint and pencil you don’t have to do anything to have something. Paint and drawing YOU have to start the process, YOU have to make a mark and go from there. Clay is already something. Take a pinch from a block and you have a small piece with thinner pieces pointing orward where you pulled from. Its thinner in the middle from where your fingers pressed on it. From merely touching the object , you have already created something new and different. Without any lessons in perspective or shading you can create a sphere. With a few more pinches off the block that sphere can become a basketball, a head, a balloon. You don’t have to be an art prodigy to create something that makes you happy. IF you don’t like its all to easy to mash, squich and remold that unhappiness into something you like. No erasers, no primer. Happiness in out lives should be that east too. If youre unhappy you should be able to remold it into something that makes you smile. Even iif that clay was at one opoint a blob or unhappiness, its only a couple smashes, rolls, and gently fingers to create something new and ifferent. It doesn’t lose sunstanance or mass, just different.

Its yellow, more of an ambery than yellow but not so much to be called orange either. Its while gloved hands (both! Its not Micael Jackson L) are in a diagonal, or I could liken it to a “positive correlation” or some such science thing I kind of learned in high school. When I wasn’t pissing off the teacher by sitting on the grounf… college is much nicer that way, sure I get a few strange looks but im mostly ignored or joinded by the few fellow floor sitters in the room. Back to the object. Its two white shoed feet are HUGE! And useful too. It can stand alone without falling over! Kinda of too round shabpe =d ad bulky to ever be fashionable after the 19 century but nonetheless, theyre being worn by the object. Its head and torso are combinded into one sphereish shape. Slightly flattish in the front and rear ad turned sideways its only half as thick as it is wide. Through the middle there is a cylinder of space that isn’t there and is about the perfect size for a pencil tip to fit in. If face is rather cartoony, overly high rounded eye brows, tall oval eyes and s mouth that extends way past the eyebrows and a bright red circle of a tongue. Anyone guess what this little object of mine is? A hint, there a lower case white letter on its stomach and it it were edible it would probably taste chocolatey…. An M&M! or rather, an m&m shaped pencit topper ish thing that’s unfortunately clear plastic and not chocolate…

Toilet paper roll

Did you know ther there are more toilet paper rolls thrown away a week in the us as there are to fill the empire state building… twice? Most people see them as useless and reminds them of that post-taco night poo that theyd rather forget. Instead… THINK OF PRIATES!!!! Tape a whole bunch of toilet paper rolls eng to end and color it black or gold and hold it up to your eye all squinty like and yell out “ARGGG MATEYY!!!” You can also think more artsey and cut them up and fild them together and make really cool wall decorations with them.. after you pinch off the remainder of the paper stuck to it. A little spray paint and wallah! A unique something J you can also cut the roll in little rings and create an awesome chain that will actually hold its roundish shape after you hang it of if r your frendenemy =’s birthdat party. You can use them as a stilts it you attach enough of them side by side with somekind of platform to strap your feet to. The possibilities are endless! Now you just need to get out of your heard that rather uncomftorable night sitting in the bathroom with an empty roll waiting on your mother to throw a spare at you so you can finally leave the oval office and instead ithink of all those projustes that you could have done If only you had a cardboard tube.

Mine, what if there were no peanuts?

No Peanut butter… not fried food like were used to… George Washington carver would have not become famous… I wouldn’t be able to sleep… honey roasted peanuts… brittle… pbj… milkshakes… snickers… paydays… would all not exist as they are now.

And sleeping, literally when I cant sleep I make my way into the kitchen and grab a spoon and scoop out a gian spoonful right out of the jar and then go back to sleep.

Pocahontas: Whispers of the Wind

          When my Pocahontas was but a sapling and my chest labored for breath in my last moments, I knew that great change would happen in her time. I knew, all of a sudden like the shrill cry of a bird in the morning sun, that the culture we know would change forever. Histories would be lost and our gold, our maize, would be blazed to the ground. My people would suffer great unhealing sickness with berry stain circles upon their feverish skin. For that moment, I knew what was to come.

          But I also know my daughter, my Little Mischief, would be in the heart of this change. I did not know her role, I did not know the ending of her story. And I wanted to help.

          With my last breath I pleaded with the spirits to stay with her and then, suddenly, I became that breath. With my exhale my very soul became wispy and scattered and there. I felt the leaves of the mighty oak tickling, I carried the spray of the ocean to the cliffs side, and I brushed my fingers through my ikwe’s long black hair.

          I saw a light haired white man as a child and saw him as he played and as he learned the prejudice of his people. I also saw his kind heart. Who could condemn a mere child for the teachings of his father? I knew that this white man would help my people many summers from now. For now, I’ll watch over him.

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          It breaks my heart to take him away from her. I apologize to me ikwe even as I gently fill the ships sails with my breath.

          The white man feels my gentle kiss upon his sleeping brow and wakes from his injured slumber and looks across the calm waters to my lovely daughter standing on the mighty cliff. Someday I will bring them back together. But for now I will travel across the spacious waters and grant them safe passage back to their self-proclaimed ‘civilized’ homes. I hope the lessons learned from my people stay with him.

Where would you rather be right now?

Australia. I’ve never been there before but I have always wanted to. I can just imagine the warm sun, the sandy beaches and the clear water filled with colorful coral reefs bursting with life. I wanna surf. I’ve ever had the opportunity to before but it really seems to be something that would be right up my alley. The culture and the people seem really vibrant. And oh the accents! Between the brits and the Aussies I don’t think I could ever choose which it more captivating to listen to.

What kind of food do they eat? I imagine that its mostly sea food but is it like captain D’s or Cajun or Chinese? And are the creatures I hear al about, the deadly ones, really that common? I know thay have them, but are the ‘deadliest snakes and insects of all time’ as common there as grasshoppers in the spring?

Are they inviting kind of people or do they dislike tourists? Maybe I would go to the opera. Ive never been but if im going to I might as well start off with the best, if I sdont like it then, then ill hate it all.

Smell?

I think the most prominent smell would be the saltwater on the breeze. The misty perfume from the ocean. Next, perhaps the spice of the food. I dunno what type of food they eat but I imagine its full of flavor and just wonderful. I think I would smell the sweat in the crowded coastal cities in the sweltering heat. Maybe they have sweet smelling bakeries full of fresh bread and pastries to snack on before you go swimming. I can just imagine all the powerful aromas that is impossible to find in Missouri.

Sight?

 I’ve never been Australia before but I have always wanted to. I can just imagine the warm sun, the sandy beaches and the clear water filled with colorful coral reefs bursting with life. I see little sand crabs sctuttling nd bowworing near my feet and I see the crystal saltwater rolling towards me and truning the sand dark. I see seashells dancing with the tide and littlel tanned skinned children pocketing the pretty ones. Off in the distance I see hthe tall skyscraperof a bustling citylife. The lights reflecting off the too high windows and the faint sounds of passing cars off in the distance.

Touch?

I feel the grainy sand filtering through the gaps between my fingers laving my hands dirty and rough. I walk to the water, wey sand squishing between my toes and rinse my hands off. The cool water feels refreshing and I cup my hands under the water and splash my sunburnt face. The sweet relief didn’t last long before the boring was back.

Taste?

In the water I taste the salt on my tongue and it makes me thirsty. I make my way up to me blanket and grab a water bottle to gulp down the spring fresh water. It tastes funny after all the salt. I open a bottle of vegemite and I cant do it. I hear that around here its used on things as often as I would use peanut butter back home. But… no.

Hear?

I hear the roaring of the waves and the faint sounds of cars off in the distance. I hear the cries of the sea gulls. Laughter sounds behind me and I turn around, I see a teenage boy getting dunked and the sputtering from his lips as he fights his irritation. The girl justs laughs and swims away as he dives toward with a loud splash in revenge. A horn honks off to my left and theres a boat making its way to the dock.

Story

Ten o’clock am and I was awake and aware. I must point that out because one does not always mean the other. You couldn’t imagine the amount of times I have been at work and I was going through the motions but wasn’t really there. I like my job though, I get to help people. But after a while I just want to get away and go on a vacation.

So here I am in Australia. Alone. My dad doesn’t understand, he merely told me that I was an idiot for traveling halfway around the world to go somewhere else that also speaks English. I, however, thinks it’s interesting. Australia, like America, was settled by the British. All three countries are vastly different. The accent, culture, food. Colonized by the same nationality yet not much alike. Maybe you could read into the fact that Australia was where the brits put their prisoners, thinking that the deadly serpents and poisonous insects will dispose of them, but who knows? Not all Australians are criminals, just like not all Americans are rebels and rabble rousers.

I love it here. The smell of the salt on the breeze as it rushes through my ajar window. I hear surfers taking advantage of the early morning tide and I just want to go out there and join them. That’s next on my list: learning to surf. So far I have walked through the crowded streets of Sydney and took a selfie in front of the opera house, and swum among the brilliantly colored reefs in the warm shallow waters.

I’m getting kind of lonely though. I know no one here except those who I see at the breakfast bar on the beachside hotel I’m at. I say hello, they ask how I am doing, I say good, they say good, and we both keep walking. Not exactly the best for in depth conversations, but I take what I can get.

Damn, I missed breakfast. I sigh and finally sit up from the stiff mattress and shake off my melancholy. I am in a wonderful place with wonderful people and I have just a wonderful sunburn. Wonderful.

I put on a swimsuit and grab my beach bag and head out into the sun and follow the sound of the crashing waves and shifting sand. A gently breeze plays with my frizzy curls and I pass a couple of tan skinned girls building a sand castle. A little boy, perhaps 3 or 4 years old, creeps up behind the girls and giggles. Right as they catchs sight of him its too late, he ran through it and grinned madly. One of the girls shrieked a name, “Kyle!” and took off, sand flying in all directions.

What is my passion that keeps me in school?

          My passion is to succeed. Im not in any clubs anymore, I just work and study and do homework. I hang out with my friends only when all that is already done. Yet, Im still in school. You could probably say its because this is only my first semester and obviously I have to give ti give it some time but I think that school activities or not, Ill stay. I like learning new things, I like bettering myself in anyway I can. And I would hate to live like my sisters do. Im the only one of four that’s even attempted college. Kim is soo wrapped in a job that will take her nowhere and that she soesnt really like but has a steady paycheck. Kira works a job she hates and cares only about partying and drinking and her son. For all her bad points, she is an excellent single parent mom. Crystal lives paycheck to paycheck cause she spends it all in cigarettes and.. other things.

I cant live that way. I want to be the best I can be. I want to be the top manager of a flourishing business and have enough money to live comfortably and still donate to all those charities that ive always wanted to help. I want to be able to help out my parents and sisters.

That is my passion. I want to succeed and stopping my education at my HS Diploma isn’t the way to go. I know my goal, Ive made plans to reach it, and im ready to tackle the next step towards it.

What do I fear? Fear is such a big word , it means soo many different things to different people. For instance I fear The lack of chooclolate in the world. Now I know tht  if I had vever tasted chocolate before I would never know what I was missing then I ouldnt be fearing it however not all frear are rational. Phobias are irrational fears and there are tons upon tones of the  Hippomostronsadeliquipadelaphobis… or something like that is the fear of long words. Now imagine for instance, a young chicld sitting in some phychologists office, ale green walls and elevator musjic playing in the distance how some kid that had this strang irrational frear would be thinking when he got told the name of said long worded fear. I would imagine him trying to tell is mother what the mean doc told him and then never being able to get the word out. Stuttering and paling, even thinking of it perhaps making him want to faint. I suppose that is doesn’t have to be your phobia to make you want to pale at a docs telling you what you ail from. I suppose that perspective cancer patients pale and want, ad do, faint all the time. I don’t say this as a laughing matter, muy own sister was one of those people. About 3 years ago sh got diagnosed with nonhodgkins lymphoma. She, me, and our family all were devastated. Thankfully, anout 6 mnths ago she went into remission and is starting to regain her hair back after all the chemo she went through. I guess you could say that’s one of my fears too. Cancer. My grandfather dies from it, My great aunt is currently battleing her 4^th cancer shes had in her llif, brain cancer, my cousin had breast cancer…. I really don’t want to get it myself. Theres nothing I can relly do about it and that too scares me. The thought that something might be sickening me with no control on my part is very frightening, but that’s whtat I am. A coltrol freak. But back to the hippomonstrosadeliquipaphobia thingy. His or her fear would be heightened by, the very diagnosis he is told. Frightening to say the least.

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Hippomonstrosadeliquipaphobia

Im here trying to remember where I first heard this odd word I picked out from my previous prompt thingy but I think, and I repeat THINK that ist was one of those revolving powerpoints that  were spaced out in the hallways in my high school. They always had different diffent did you knows and interesting facts spaced out bete=wwen school activities and hey, don’t forgets! I don’t think I ever just stood there and watched one of them but I think this one stood out. It always hit me as ironic that the fear of long words was an abnormally long one it self. But that’s life I supposes. High cschool also gave you free crackers to eat from the nurse that you could sneak into your class even in the classes that had that over powering noen green “ no food zone!!” sigh on the door. ‘medical peuposes’ of course. Not hat I ever hcactiually used them when I had a stomach ache, that what they were for I guess that thought of going home and finishing a book were more inprotant than y pre calc class. I still aced it thankfully but who know how much I payed attention. I used to hate math when I was younder, but now I really likeit. I wonder why? What changed? Maybe I had a really good teacher that changed my thoughts in the subject. Mrs Lewis, or leis as all her students called her. She was awesome J I always enjoyed the way she made math bearable and then fun. How that chanded my opinion the subject completely I have no idea. Bu tnow I even look up random math magis stull just to amuse me then im between my sci fy novels. And art work too. I hate working on something for such a long time and suddenly, youre done. A book series is over, A painting ios finished. Sure you can keep rereading a book and definitely keep getting stuff you missed from it before and re do some parts of that painting yi was never really happy with but eventually, there only so much you can do and youre done. Bye bye, syanora. And then you have to brainstorm on the what next. I hate having to wait between projects even when I hate staring. Procrastination

school activities

In school. High school, to e more precice I did soooo amny activities but to me then, it doesn’t seem like al that much. Now I keep thinking, how did I ever get any thing done? I had classes, golor guard, wintergaurd, cheerleading, science club, trach, fbla,… I could probably keep going on but I wont bore you with that. I did get it all don’t though. First place in the county science fail and captain of the guard team, and varsity cheerleader. I really loves having stuff to do. Ween I was between classes I did my hoimworks and during meets at track id bring along some math homework. Still I had a social life too! I only had 2 boyfriends in high school, about a year long fo reach. Made some memorines, some mistakes but I learned from them . I really don’t know how I did it.

My friend jess, however, if there was any way to lable anyone as a rel live supre woman, itd be her. She was in all the sports and clubs I was in and than tiems that by 3. She was the class valedictorian and obviously was amart. Popular too cause she the prom uqeen sash giving t her out senior year. She is also the sweetest person oucould ever meet. But I feel like I should hate her somethimes. I really don’t but hav you ever met anyone and been like, do you do ANYwornG? But ive been her friend for too long to let that bother me, ive seem her in heardbreak and going through loss that I know not everything is all sunshine and daiseys for her. I know also in comparison I haveit pretty good too. Other friends of mine struggle with family difficulties and other problems I couldn’t ever comprehend. But they deal with adult problems better than adults cuase they had to grow up so fast. Its doeant matter your background to tell how far youll succeed in life. Jessica nd I are in comapison the the majority pretty well off, but I know some people who are going tinto nuclear enjineering that came from realllly tough backgrounds.

Tapioca pudding

So my mother isn’t exactly the most tactful of people and she also worked at a cet clinic. Vet clinic plus a lack of tact exuals a disaterous family dinner time. Shell just suddenly pop up with ramdom bits anout her day and so forth, and while by itself that soulds like youre normal functional family sitting down dinner. Ours was not. Mother talked about anal glands and bloody procedures that she though were woth mentioning. And maggots. Now when I cat has a maggot infested would then there are two things right off the bat that ais wrong. One, the cat. Two, the people who are trying to get rid of th maggots are daeling with… well.. maggots. Yuck. Then. My lovely mother walks into the dining room later that night and whats are we ealting? Tapioca pudding. It was dessert and the word maggot was circling through my mind at the same time as the lovely texture of tapioca was n my mouth… lets just say I ran to the trash can and I have nt once eatin the stuff since. The thought of that vile thing is now synonymous with a maggot infesed poor little cats (never ming I extremely dislike those animals) and my stomack clenches and gets all squirmy. Yeo, NEVER AGAIN. Ill stick ith smooth, creamy vanilla, chocolate, banana, and butterscotch puddings. No maggots infesting my memories of those lovely desserts. At least until, the next family dinner….

Talking about my mother, she really is an amazing woman. The most hardworking person I have ever met in my life . She wanted a deck in the back year od a previos house…

Stick men pic

We are the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels. We are the square pegs in the round holes…. This is the beginning of one of my favorite quote and it is by pple computer. Pause and Note: I hate the iphone. Continue: I used to have a nice book full of awesome quotes, the creativity ones like that oe, the cute ones like “A safety pin cant fix everuthing, but you can always add another one.” And the hilarious ones like “Friendship is like peeing on yourself, everyone can see it but only you get the warm feeling.”

          The pic of the six stickmen with the one to the middle right having a squre head reminded me of that Apple computer quote and how much I enjoyed it. Oarticularly the “we are the square pegs in the round holes”. Cause that’s how I wasn’t to live my life. I feel like I can do everything that anyone else can and if I try hard nough. People can tell me till theyre blue in the face that its wrong and theres a better way to do it. The square DOES fit. But because it isn’t as cookie cutter perfect as the rest of them means its looked down upon. But that still doesn’t change that fact that’ its just another way to do it. It just takes a little “out of the box” thinking.

          That also reminds me, the square headed stick figure is blue with a black head and all the others are just blue. Its like those kid games again, the colors match with theyre shapes. I think that its another reinforcer to help make you think the way they want you to think. But what if someone wants to dye their hair blue? Its their out of the box choice.

Blue

I used to tell everyone that blue was my favorite color. And I DO like it… its just the main reason I said so was to contradict the whole “im a girl I must love pink’ thing. Reallt, I love red. And not just anycolor red, but dark blood red. I don’t even like blood but that certain shade of red calms me and makes me feel at home. It probably has something to do with my chidldhood bedroom being painted that color but I still liked itbefore that.

Maybe ive just alwasys liked the idea of being a rebel. Ive never really been one tho. The idea of letting my grandparents hopes in me fall is scary. I LIKE     working and I really don’t mind doing homework. I think the worst ive done is creamwrapping  a friends toilet seat and joining in on an awesome senior prank. But even then. I knew hed be okay with it and there ws also a ton of other seniors there.

Senior Prank

It started in the beginning of the year when my friend Jessica (our HS Validictorian) created a fb page for all the seniors to join in to talk about ‘senior stuff’. Super secret and all that. That opened the flood gates of ideas. Instead of a grop or tewo going out and doing some eh coolish prank EVERYONE uut theyre ideas down. From the beginning we created rules. 1) anyone could join in that wanted to (if they were a senios) 2)NO VANDALISM 3) no TATTELING. What we did is the min ppl who decided things created the Mmain show. There was two big stone pillars outside the front doors and we used seramwrap wto make a giant wall around them then filled the space with balloons. Other gouups took plastic silverware and stuck them into the lawn. Sticknotes covered the windown, chalk covered the sidewalk, a hay bale was rolled out in the circle drive and caution tape was strung between the flad poles. IT WAS AWESOEM!!!

Prompt – What is your label?

Labels are a part of life. I am me I am a daughter, granddaughter, greatgranddaughter… . I am an Ozark Technical Community College Information Technology Employee. I am a brunette. I am a Dog Lover and a Cat Hater. I am a Buffalo High 2014 Graduate. I am a Missourian. I am an American. I am an artist. I am not an Idiot. I am Kaitlyn Midkiff. Probably the most unique of these is I am xxx-xx-xxxx.

I am these things, and many more but none of these define me. Not even my name. Every female that has ever existed is a daughter. Theres are tons of other OTC IT employees. Brown is a common hair color and I am but one of 115 Buffalo Graduates. There are millions of citizens of Missouri and Many more of the US. Art is something I enjoy but its not everything. Kaitlyn Midkiff is just a combination of letters and sounds people use to differenciate me from those around me. There are other Kaitlyn Midkiffs out there, just looks at google. Probably the only lablel ill ever get that unique to me is mu Social Security number. Think about that, The only truly unique thing is a number. A number. Digits in a 3-2-4 number format that says you’re you.

I am moved by tehe article, “Prncess for a Day” is bcuase I have a lot of cancer in my family history. This article tells of a little girl, 11, named Heaven Shanchez who had brain cancer. One day for her, Disney Invaded. Whe was greeted by Aladdins Jasmine, and sand songs with belle and Mulan. Far a little 11 year old girl, it was heaven. No pun intended.

I just keep thining of my Grandpa, my Aunt, My sister. Ll who have aor has dies from some sort of cancer in the last 5 years. I wish my grandfather had hat chance when he went terminal at age 57. My aunt who her life has been battleing cancers, one after the other, and who right now has the same type as the little girl in the article. And I wish my sister had that chance

Dust, Disappointment, and Fudge

Growing up I heard stories and laughter every time my mother brought up ‘Bagnell Dam’. The Dam is a 2,543 foot long monstrosity designed by Stone and Ralph Engineering Company of Boston (The Historic). It was constructed in 1929 and wasn’t finished till 1932, due to financial difficulties (The Historic). I knew all this, but to me it was this wonderful place full of games and fun. Someplace with the best Arcade and the famous ten cent skee ball. I was thinking, of course, of the Bagnell Strip.

I imagined being able to be free to roam and ice cream shops on every corner, almost could smell the tantalizing aroma of fresh baked goods. Where every blink opened a whole new area to discover, but reality didn't compare to my mental image.

When I was 12 I finally got to go and I was quite disappointed. All it is this run down place with a whole bunch of bars, tattoo shops, overpriced tourist shops… I mean everything she told me about was there I just didn’t see what was so special about this place that wasn't nearly as great as I had been led to believe.  Every moment I was forced to looks at curios, “look! No touch,” and stand around as my older sisters talked about grown up things.  I was left to myself in a way, even though I was forced to be attached to my family’s hip. I wanted to run, play skeeball, and have ice cream. But I was not allowed, there was no time, or it was too expensive.  

Let's back up here a moment, and allow me to describe this ‘vacation’ in more than just a general description. It all starts with the drive there.

I, as the youngest, was shoved between two taller bony shoulders in the middle seat in the back of a small red car. The seat had an uncomfortable hump in the middle and I had to practically sit on the belt fasteners. At the time, my family lived in Kansas City so it wasn’t just an hour of a sore backside, it was three. Three long gruesome hours where I wasn’t allowed to use my sisters shoulders as pillows to sleep, three long boring hours where I wasn’t allowed to play on my Gameboy because the light was annoying my sisters, three extremely long hours of waiting for what I thought would be the greatest weekend of my life. I thought it was worth it, at the time.

Then, we arrived. Truthfully I thought it was just a pit stop, this Dogpatch, I mean sure it was a kind of odd place to go to the bathroom but we’ve been to weirder. I couldn’t figure out why my mom was so excited, all I could see was a rundown shop with odd merchandise and some talking hillbilly mannequin named ‘Grandpa’. I asked my mom how much farther it would be till we get there. She replied, “We are.” Now, I couldn’t wrap my brain around that. This dusty smelling, packed floor to ceiling of knick-knacks hole in the wall store was what I was waiting for? Where are the games? Go-karts?

          My mom and sisters spent four hours looking at oddly shaped shot glasses and tie-dyed shirts. I spent 2 hours trying to be optimistic and the other 2 hours attempting to hide my disappointment.

          Walking back outside, the hot air hit me like a brick wall. Across the street was a Bumper Boats attraction and I immediately wanted to try. Grabbing the hem of my mother’s shirt and impatiently tugging I got her attention and pointed while putting on my perfected puppy dog face. She took one look at the sign with the price, another long look at me and my three sisters, and shook her head. No Bumper Boats, I then knew and my shoulders sagged.

          My sisters and I were then led into another shop and one look had my young eyes widening. It was a fudge shop and my vacation just got indefinitely better. Maybe, just maybe, this was worth waiting 7 hours for.

          Grandma’s Candy Kitchen had over 20 mouthwatering flavors of fudge and over 40 different kinds of Salt Water Taffy (Grandma’s). I was allowed to get a quarter of a pound of Salted Dark Chocolate Fudge. It was amazing and even more exciting, none of my sisters can stand dark chocolate so they didn’t even steal it!

          It has been 7 years since I have been back to the Bagnell Dam, and I still have very strong memories of my time spent there. The history of the area was actually kind of interesting, I have to admit. The Bagnell Dam was built to power St. Louis and its completion caused 54,000 acres of farms and homes to be flooded (Mitchell, A Brief). However, the 20,500 jobs that the project brought to the area was a huge boost to the economy (Gillespie, Bagnell). Many of the people who lived in the rea had mixed emotions about the Dam and some outright protested its constructions, especially in regards to family burial sites that were either moved or flooded (Gillaspie, Inundated). It really makes my stomach quite squeamish to think about all the people who swim and boat there.

Three days of window shopping and dusty curios with no bumper boats and no time for the Arcade, I remember the fudge like it was yesterday. The sweet clean smell of the shop and the kind old lady behind the counter who let me taste almost every flavor, the rich dark chocolate that I got to have all to myself. That, and only that, was what let me think back to that family vacation with some fondness. I think next time I’ll have my mom bring me back some fudge instead.

Over the weekend our assignment was to sdo something over the weekend that was our passion. I painted. Im not completely sure how long I painted for but im pretty sure it was over an hour. I painted my face practicing optons for my Halloween costume. I tried out an avatar, a zombie, the Corpse bride, Avatar the last air bender (I need a bald cap!) and a mime. It was pretty darn fun to tell the truth.

I didn’t really need an assignment to make me do that since I had planned on doing that anyway…. But I don’t paint often enough, face, paper, or canvas. I also slept a lot Tuesday night. I literally went to bed at 8 pm and slept for 10 hours… It was soo nice.

 Anyway back to face paint. Sophomore year of high school (before I was in colorguard or cheerleading) I udes to do the facepaint at the hs football games for art club donations. I got really good at doing numbers and helmets lol and full faces of one or two of the school colors. Very difficult. But it was something to do and I DID enjoy it.. more than writing right now but cest la vie. I really need a nap and frozen chocolatized dairy products. Im so jelly at anykind that might possibly be having some of that instead of me that I might as well be the meanest gelatian you’ve ever met.

10/31/2014

Ms. A,

Most everyone I talk to seems to think 15 credit hours is way too many courses to take at one time. I haven’t yet decided whether I agree with them or not. I study a lot and it always seems like tests are coming at me from all directions but I still feel like I should be doing more. Anytime that I have free time I’m not sure what I should do and I think I could be doing even more classes to fill it up. But I also realize that a heavier course loud would negatively affect my grades, hence my conundrum.

I’ve thought about it and I believe a club or group would work perfectly for me. But, OTC doesn’t do many clubs or groups. At least, the few I do know of aren’t particularly interesting to me. I have come to the conclusion that I just have to wait for my Phi Theta Kappa letter to come next semester, and then all will be well.

                                                                             Kaitlyn Midkiff

10 things im passionate about

1.     Coffee

2.     Chocolate

3.     Education

4.     Piano

5.     God

6.     Reading

7.     Debating

8.     Baking

9.     …

Ever since I was little I have always gone to church. My age group at Sherwood bible was my family away from home. I enjoyed the snacks, the games, the songs, and the stories. But, that is all it was to me, songs and stories. At home my om would tell me she believed in Christ but nothing else. There was no prayer before meals, no Christmas story of Jesus’ birth on Christmas eve. My dad never did anything either. So I grew up with the idea that church was on Sunday and real like happened the other 6 days of the week.

Then I moved. No longer was my mom able to socialize with her friends in the service and no longer was there a home church where we felt we belonged to .Sure we tried a few local churches but that didn’t contine very long. We stopped going.

It was soon after my 17^th birthday when I got my drivers license that I found Calvery. It was old fashioned, it was full of old people who smelt like soap, but it had a sense of community and family that I hadn’t felt since I was 12. Every tie I walked in Pastor Doug gave me a hug and called me by name thanking me for coming.

Without having church, prayer, and Jesus Christ in my life I felt empty but after I got up the strength to wake up early on Sunday mornings again, I felt at peace. It wasn’t easy though, cause It was all on me. My parents didn’t care if I went or not so its not like I got in trouble for slacking off.

Baking

I love baking. Making sure i get the correct amounts of ingredients and making sure thy mix together right. The smell of fresh bread and the look on my family’s faces when they try something they like. Coffee Brownies are my favorite. They’re sooo simple but sooo strong and mocha and chocolate. I make it completely from scratch too. Real chocolate, fresh strong coffee. Yummm…

I also love just making simple loaves of white bread. The sweet and fluffy breads are good too but its soo rewarding to make something that you need. If I didn’t make it then we would buy it. And mine tastes much better than the stored, thank you very much :p a little honey and butter when its right out of the oven and presto, who cares about sugary cakes and pastries anymore?

Also I tend to enjoy other things other than baking, like chocolate covered strawberries. Ghirdehli chocolate and a little coconut oil and the freshest juiciest strawberries that I can pick from my garden …. Melt in your mouth heaven.

Another thing I enjoy making is eclairs. Vanilla cream filled chololate covered little choux pastries. Theyre a little complicated to get the dough just right and to cook the perfect amout and remembering to poke a little hole in the side 10 minutes before its done… but definitely rewarding.

Coffee

When I wake up, I don’t wake up slowly like you would imaging a coffee drinker waking. I wake up all of a sudden and you better pity the poor soul that I gave a black eye once. *grin* anyway, sure im awake but until ive had my coffee, im not there. I awake, but im like a ghost, I don’t pay attention to my surroundings but once I have a cup of coffer or two into my system, Im all better anf like the hyper active person mist people know me to be.

Coffee is also the most wonderful flavor know to my tastebuds. I ay they cause I know there are plently of poor misguided and uneducated people that cant stand it… but I, pretty sure you et my opinions on THAT.  But even black or starbucks sweet, its yummm

A Little About Me : Jung Typology

 

Now normally I don't put much stock into online quizzes and personality tests but sometimes, you just have to wonder how they can get it so wrong.. or so right. A few days ago I took a quiz called a Jung Typology test or the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes1.htm). I'd tell you what it's for but an explanation from The Free Medical Dictionary explains it better than I ever would:

          "Career counselors use the test to help others determine what occupational field they might be best suited for, and it is also used in organizational settings to assess management skills and facilitate teamwork and problem-solving, including communication difficulties. Because the MBTI [Myers-Brigg Type Indicator] is also a tool for self-discovery, mental health professionals may administer the test in counseling sessions to provide their patients with insight into their behavior."

 So... basically it's just a step up from your average Facebook 'What's Your Inner Mythological Creature?" quiz (which I totally am a Quetzalcoatl, Google it! it's awesome). Anyway, I am an ENTJ. Whoop! That absolutely amaz.... wait, what the heck does that mean? Isn't a personality test supposed to tell you something along the lines of You Are Sarcastic!? ...right?

Well, the MBTI is based on the four Jungian psychological types: extraversion (E) or introversion (I), sensing (S) or intuition (N), thinking (T) or feeling (F), judging (J) or perceiving (P). When you finish a series of simple questions it will tell you what personality type you fall under in a four letter 'Type'.
Taking my results and putting in the Jungian trait categories, it says I am these things: Extrovert, Intuitive, Thinking, and Judging. At first, I wasn't too sure how to take it, I mean, who likes to be told they are a judging kind of person anyway? Before writing it off as just another Facebook Quiz, I looked a bit more into it and apparently, those four traits mean a lot more than your first glance. And it scarily accurate.... on most things.

The MBTI overview for ENTJ's starts out with saying that I am "...generally organized, decisive, direct, innovative, and driven to succeed." I would truthfully say that I can be described as such, in varying proportions of course. Its also mentions, in its numerous pages,  that ENTJ's tend to be energetic, confident, and place an importance on honesty. However, we can "...create the perception that they are distant and hard hearted because of their rational and logical decisions." As much as I hate to say it, I have been accused of this before. I honestly care a lot for others but sometimes people just need to realize the cold hard facts and leave their fantasy world!

However, there are also quite a few parts that I disagree with. For example, it mentions that ENTJs writing process tends to begin with an organized writing plan.... ha! Eight grade English class would have been much more enjoyable if only I was good at that, with all the tons of page, letter, and paragraph structuring we had to do way back when. But as you can probably notice, I tend to start with any type of writing with the beginning and go from there. I will delete things, rearrange things, add and change things, but if I don't just start, I won't get it done till the last minute. That's another thing, procrastination. "ENTJs are often motivated to complete their work on time...". Well, as I have mentioned before, not me. Not me at all.

Moving on the another part of this typology type that apparently 'explains me' (eh.. past boyfriends have all tried and failed..), it lists a number of careers to consider. This was actually quite helpful cause while I happen to be in college I STILL have no idea what I want to do with my life. I've been weighing options and really want something I will enjoy, even if its not the most lucrative option. After crossing out a few 'options' that are just plain amusing, (Chemical Engineer? really?) I was narrowed to a few that actually seem interesting. Most tend to lean toward the business end of the career spectrum, like Marketing and Business Administration. Seeing as I am already working on my A.A.B, they seem viable. Others like Lawyer and a Judge seem a bit out there. Yes, I tend to be the mediator in the dispute of my friends, as much as I try not to, and like to know all the facts, but still I've never really considered going into Law. Food for thought, I guess.

Just make sure that you remember that there is no list of descriptions that will entirely capture who you are. Who I am. They may come close, some you may think scarily accurate, but you just need to keep an objective eye and take it with several grains of salt. You are your own person and no matter what, no personality test can tell you how to live your life.

P.S. a little side note, I searched and found a few famous people that have the same MBTI as me.
Steve Jobs
Julius Caesar
Adele
Napoléon Bonaparte
Franklin D. Roosevelt

and also... (drum roll please!!!)
Merida from Brave!!! (which explains the picture above, yeah?)
annnnd Darth Vader!

It seems like I will take over the world some day. Be warned.