Pick a side already!!!

I make it a habit to seek out and comment on Arab/Muslim/Islamic style blogs or posts simply because that is one of my main interests and it also annoys me when I see obviously false statements being made and touted as either part of Islam...or not etc. Obvious to me anyhow. LOL

Funny enough Ive gotten too many to count emails and comments asking me "am I Muslim"...or better yet..."do I still consider myself one" for those that know my history.

Here's my take on that whole question...of which I will not give a direct answer because I find it irrelevant to my point.

With Muslims you cannot win the comment game for the most part.

Why???? Good question. Here's my answer.

1. If I am a Muslim then my answer has authority over any nonMuslim that may have commented and claimed something as well. Even if I'm blatantly wrong.

2. If I'm not a Muslim then my comment is not accepted when it concerns something about Islam, the prophet, scholars, imams, women etc. You are not Muslim, you know nothing and have no right to comment.

3. If I am Muslim but make a comment that is not commonly held or doesn't make another Muslim happy...then Ive either been brainwashed by the evil west or I'm not a "real" Muslim and my comments and thoughts don't count.

4. And lastly, if I use to be a Muslim but now I'm not. I should be killed...and thus my comments don't count cause I should already be dead anyhow. *sigh*

SO, for those sending me emails and comments asking me whether I am a Muslim or do I still consider myself one...my answer would be. Its none of your business and shouldn't be used to decide whether or not my comments merit authority or consideration as being right or even possibly right. I can be Muslim and disagree with you. I can be a non Muslim and still be right. I can leave Islam and still have insights to make about it or shed light on it etc. I can...and I do.

Final thoughts...

The prophet was told one day that a man was good because he could be seen going up and down in the mosque (performing his prayers)...the prophet said...don't judge a man by what he does but by who he spends his time with. (paraphrasing)

Another time, some information came to him that the sahaba were not happy with because the information came from someone they didn't regard in a good light. The prophet told them, do not judge WHO is saying it (passing on the information) but ONLY in what they are saying (the message). (paraphrasing).

Whether you, I or anyone is a Muslim, nonMuslim, kafir or atheist..that right there is some sound advice.

Cheers

Where's a cop when you CALL one?

Working in this store has given me the opportunity to meet and get to know quite a variety of different people. Some are familiar favorites that I look forward to seeing each night and wonder where they are when I don't. Others are those that drop in once a week and spend a few minutes catching up. All in all MOST of the people that come through the store are regulars for the most part...with the few exceptions...those that are travelling through and stopping to freshen and gas up...and those that have come to specifically to rob the store.

Last night 3 such people showed up at the store while I was there alone.

In life we are all afraid of something. If it be heights, sharks, spiders, or elevators..whatever it is we are affected the same way. Fear takes over and coherent thoughts vanish. Somethings you don't even know your afraid until your faced with it. Last night I was faced with the very real fear that my children could be left orphans...without even one parent to care for them and love them and be there for them. Last night I was forced to face the fact that Tomorrow Is Promised To No One.

In the 6 months Ive been working in this store Ive had to deal with a few customers that got my radar going and heartbeat skipping just a little more than usual. Not for anything he did specifically to ME, just the way he (so far its always been a he) acted while moving about the store etc. Up until last night all those fears were groundless and the shift continued without incident. Last night fleeting thoughts of whether or not I was going to be able to finish my shift and go home to my kids skittered through my mind as I faced these 3 men who had come to impact my life in ways they apparently could careless about. During that 20 min they were in the store...my heart thundered so hard in my chest I felt it would actually burst out of it...my throat closed up so that I was unable to swallow..if there had been any spit to swallow...and my mind was a blur of thoughts skating across the surface of my fear like lightening bugs...quick and hot.

I don't want to go into too much detail about what went on simply because it still freaks me out to think about it...suffice to say...I don't wish to repeat the experience under any circumstances. When I finally got the chance to call the police I felt help was close at hand and that helped calm me down and let me focus on what I was telling the dispatcher...details of them and the car etc...so when they ran out the door the relief I felt very nearly caused me to collapse. I guess that was when I let out the breath I had been seemingly holding forever.

NOW, imagine my surprise and eventual anger at the fact that the cops NEVER showed up. Nope. Spent the rest of the shift looking over my shoulder, expecting the worst and waiting anxiously for the cops to show up. Never happened.

Serve and Protect my ass.

IF that wasn't the bad enough people...check this out. THOSE SAME 3 MEN CAME BACK TO THE STORE TONIGHT TO ROB IT AGAIN!!!

I know right. How lucky am I??? *sigh*

This time I didn't waste time calling the police. This time they actually came. This time the men were caught down the street and arrested. This time my heart took less time to slow down and anger took its place.

The simple fact people is that I could have died last night. Cops didn't come so I could have lain on the floor until some customer came or the morning shift showed up. I could have lain there while my kids waited for me at home wondering where I was. I could have...but I didn't.

Tonight had a better outcome by far but I still felt fear....and for that I'm so damn pissed off I cant even think straight. I'm so sick to death of people coming into my life intent on hurting me in some way. Some of those people were supposed to love me..some of those people hated me...and now some of those people don't even know me and couldn't care less how they affected my life at all but were quite happy to do so anyways.

I'm so angry. I feel so helpless. I want to hurt something back. I want to scream and cry and break things into lots of pieces. I want to rage at everything...and nothing.

I'm so angry. On top of the anger Ive been living with this past few years..this could be my undoing people. When does the shit end for gods sake? Is is possible to live your life as well as you can, doing the best you can, without a man (or 3) coming along to fuck you up in some way?

Is it?

When is Freedom of Speech a Crime?

I was called up to my daughter's school today as she was in tears and wanting to "leave right now, MOM!!!". As a teenager she is frequently caught up in the middle of some teenage drama but she usually handles it pretty well and life goes on. I don't get these "come take me home now" phone calls very often...so when I do..I know something serious has happened.

When I walked into the counsellor's office the secretary seen me and her usual smile was not in place. She had a very serious look and threw me a sympathetic smile of sorts. I felt this signalled a little something more serious was going on and prepared myself for "the worst". The counsellor heard my voice asking for Ameena and came out of his office with an equally serious expression. NOW I really was worried as he ALWAYS had a welcoming smile for me.

He invited me into his office and Ameena was sitting there obviously distressed and with red burned areas under her eyes signalling she had been doing some serious crying. I was not terribly surprised when I found out the cause of all this drama.

In every high school in the world there are cliques, gangs, and the occasional loners. There are the cheerleaders, the jocks, the nerds and the rebels. There are the whites, then everyone else consisting of those considered "lower in status". What I mean to say is we either belong to a group by choice or we are labeled into that group by our "peers". And always ALWAYS there is the "low man on the totem pole" group. Those considered the lowest in class, status, race...whatever. They are generally the most persecuted group in which every school bully bullies them, every cheerleader princess ignores them, and every other student thanks God they aren't them.

And then you have the new and novel group of which my son and daughter are the only two that belong to it...they are the Terrorist of Rock Springs High School.

Apparently my children have been assigned the role of resident terrorists by their peers and the harassment and bullying has been an almost daily thing. They have mentioned to me in the past that some students will shout out terrorist at them but they handled it by giving back as good as they got for the most part. My daughter has never been one to let such a comment slide by without retaliation. She told me she could handle it...I didn't need to come down there and deal with it myself....which I what I wanted to do the moment I heard about it. Zack keeps more to himself and doesn't really let himself react to such things for the most part...but when he's had enough...they will definitely know it.

Up until now Ameena seemed to be handling it well by ignoring it for the most part but today things got out of hand and she just couldn't take it anymore. It would seem several students started harassing her and calling her terrorist and others were laughing...the hardest part for her to handle was the fact that some of the students laughing were supposed to be her friends. She has faced the backs of many a friend and family member who was supposed to care about her but showed their true colors when they were needed the most...so she took this very hard and was overwhelmed with disappointment and hurt. She fled to the counsellor's office and I was called in.

I arrived not knowing what was going on but I quickly felt deep anger for my children who have suffered harassment all their lives for some reason or another. In Bahrain they were harassed for having an American mother (aka slutty whore). They were made to feel inferior for being a "mixed breed" Arab rather than a "pure blood" that many Arabs are so proud of. My girls, of course, were eventually harassed for having been subjected to rape by their father...and the boys for having slutty sisters etc. Not only was their Arab status criticized but so was their level of "Muslimness" simply because their mother was American and obviously corrupting Islam for them. We move to the states and now they are "terrorists" merely for being Arab. I can almost feel the pain my children must feel at the thought that they don't belong anywhere...they are always labeled different.

My question to you all here is...should calling someone a terrorist be considered a crime of some sort? I ask this simply because given the very fearful nature the word instills in people, to me it's akin to shouting "fire" in a crowded building. It automatically makes people jumpy and suspicious...and maybe even dangerous. that whole vigilante justice thing that a mob tends to decide is the right course of action is very much on my mind now. My daughter was surrounded by chanting students who could have whipped themselves up into a frenzy of sorts if enough of them had gathered and joined it...which apparently was happening before she ran to the councillor's office. We all are very well aware of what happens when a mob like mentality takes over and an individual is singled out as deserving of "justice". I might also point out that this is Wyoming and "cowboy justice" is still considered an option. She was afraid and had every right to be...but was freedom of speech on the side of the students in this case or are these considered racists or hate words and therefor a crime of sorts?

I'm very happy with the counsellors course of action in that he quickly denounced every student that took part in that little gang up and informed all the faculty and school administration staff that any student uttering that word in the future would be suspended and the police would be called to the school. I'm assuming that makes calling someone a terrorist a crime then if the police can be called...I'm not sure though. In my anger I didn't ask for specifics.

This evening Ameena is much better, kids bounce back pretty quick usually, but it's very much on my mind now. I didn't bring my kids home finally just to be faced with potential danger because of who they are or where they come from. I do know and believe with all my heart that America is a better place for them and with more opportunities but I also have to acknowledge that it also could prove dangerous for them because there are haters everywhere...and haters need something to focus their hate on. Hate often leads to violence unfortunately....I don't know what I would do if my children were harmed in anyway because I brought them here under the assumption it was better for them.

I feel the school handled this situation as well as they could but they can't be everywhere all the time...my children will have to face these bullies again at some point for sure as bullies never go away..they just wait until no ones looking. I was assured the school has cameras everywhere but still....I hate this situation and that my children have to be part of it. And of course, that's my fault for bringing them to an intolerant city, state, country??? Which is it? Is there anywhere in America that half Arab children can live in relative peace? hmmmm?

I don't like where this is going...any suggestions for a course of action, people?

The Best Part of Working in a Convenience Store is...

the never ending array of interesting conversations that I have with customers.

Along with my wonderful conversation I had with Charlie in my previous post...Ive had so many funny, exciting, and just plain eye opening conversations with customers....both regular and those that are just passing through. I try and keep some paper nearby just so I can write down some witty sayings or interesting observations but invariably forget it at work and it gets thrown away. I will try harder to keep track of them as they are definitely worthy of a book some day..LOL.

A recent conversation I had with one of my regular elderly customers had me laughing and joking but also made me stop and think about how we tend to judge someone quickly based only on looks...without knowing a single thing about what makes them tick.

Take Oliver for instance....

Oliver looks to be in his 70's, almost always wear a white t-shirt with a pair of denim bib overalls (which reminds me a great deal of my grandfather) and has a quaint air about him that is very gentlemanly and proper. He has a wonderful smile as well with just a touch of an accent that is very northern. He is a joy to converse with when time permits...and a few nights ago time permitted..our conversation when something like this.

Now when I first had a chance to have a proper conversation with him we delved into such things as philosophy, the death penalty, world events etc...and he has wonderful points of view...varied and not what you would expect...or at least not what I expected. So when our recent conversation took a twist...I was both surprised...and not...by his thoughts on the subject.

We started talking about "trying something new" in order to keep things and life interesting. The mundane and ordinary just made life boring and not worth the effort...so says Oliver...and a lot of other people I'm sure. So, when he asked me what was I willing to try that was new and different from my "norm"...I seriously tried to shock him with this..."well, Oliver, I was thinking of giving the gay lifestyle a try"....and waited for the condemnation. The older generation tend to not "swing that way" for the most part...another assumption that was about to be shattered.

Oliver got very thoughtful for a minute then looked at me straight in the eye and said something that I will remember years from now when so many other things about working at that store will be forgotten. He said..."when it comes to love we surely can't choose whom we love...so who are we to judge when people find love whether we agree with it or not?" While I took that wonderful statement in he hit me with another one...

He told me that he had served in the military and that while he had never "swung that way" (loved that he used that phrase) he said there was this one soldier that always "took his breath away" whenever he saw him. The faraway look in his eye and the softening of his voice told me that he was experiencing that "breathless state" once again...no doubt many decades later.

I was amazed by the passionate tone of his voice and by the fact that I had misjudged him obviously...assuming something about his beliefs and what he accepted as "life" and what was an "abomination" according to some. How refreshing to have my assumptions shattered.

He left me with a parting thought...he told me since we can't choose whom we love...when love chooses us we should grab it with both hands...cause it is so hard to find. I was in a fantastic mood for the rest of the night despite my sore feet and unending line of secret alcoholics clamoring for more.

The next night I was off but my co-worker told me he came in again and asked about me. Apparently the conversation had left a mark on him too...he asked my co-worker if I was busy "trying something new yet"...LOL...she said give me some time...knowing me it wouldn't be long. (she was joking ...I think)

Then again...he came in last night and we discussed how kids these days need a good beating as they are so "pansy assed" and "coddled" from the assumption that "every ones a winner"....he suggested the "switch make a comeback" as a form of punishment. Something his own father used on him and see how well he turned out...LOL. While I don't agree with physically punishing children (I myself was an abused child) it was interesting to hear his thoughts.

Anyhow, I was chatting with a "chat buddy" back in Jan and I told her that this was my year to be an Instigator...to shake it up...get people agitated...cause mayhem and destruction if possible just to prove my one point...YOU MAY THINK YOU KNOW ME BUT YOU DON'T KNOW ME...I might be 41 but I've still got a few surprises left in me...so you never know Oliver, I just might take you up on your challenge...to try something new...

And here I was thinking college was about as much as I could handle just now...LOL. Stay tuned people for the results of my "try something new" challenge.

Red

(there will be no pics with this post of little ole' me for two reasons....I no longer have a scanner and pics of me as a child would break it if I did...*sigh*)

As anyone that happens to know me in real life knows and for those that have bothered to glance at the pic on the right there, and still for those that have wondered about the "red" in Coolred...it's maybe no surprise that I'm a natural born redhead. From the moment I exited mothers womb I've had varying degrees of flaming red hair that has been, at times, the bane of my existence. All my life I have been made to feel at some point or another that the mere fact that HAVE red hair was somehow my fault. As a child I was ridiculed without end by other children and adults alike. Something that was said to me yesterday in the store by a customer brought back some memories and inspired this post.

And so...the story of Red.

As mentioned, I had a flaming crop of red hair from the moment of birth, all though at that time it looked more like red fuzz...mix that in with my ocean blue eyes (at the time...have gone more grey blue now) along with some whiter than cotton white skin and you've got the makings of a child that stuck out like a sore thumb because everyone else in her family had brown hair, brown eyes, olive toned skin and looked like they were related to each other. Over the years I have lost count of how many times people have asked me.."where did you get that red hair?"...hmmm? the same place you got your brown, blond, black hair I'm guessing...the gene fairy? Or maybe I was one of those special babies that got to preorder what I would look like once born...in that case I would have left out the fat gene all together. *sigh*

At any rate, Mom tells me when I was actually still a baby she was forced to defend her fidelity to friend a stranger alike again and again as people would take one look at me, at my siblings lined up looking rather Native American mixed with some other darker skinned toned people, and then see me shining so bright I practically glowed in the dark. More than one set of eyebrows were raised...and that continues to this day. In the beginning it was all joke joke snicker snicker....you cheated with the mailman didn't you? but eventually it gets tiring being made to feel as if your an outsider and don't belong to your family. On the other hand, there have been times when I secretly prayed I WAS adopted, or better yet STOLEN, and didn't in fact share genes with this family of mine that continues to this day to make me want to commit either murder or suicide depending on my current levels of stress and their desire for drama.

Now, as I mentioned, I was tormented as a child for having red hair. I was called too many names to remember (all though I can remember them all probably if pressed..somethings are never forgotten, just lurk in the background of your mind until something comes along to jog it to the fore front...as did customer in store). My red hair has a curious affect on people that I've never quite understood. I've had complete strangers reach out and feel it, something that happened in the Bahrain A LOT right from the start of my life there, mix that in with not knowing what they were saying and just being culture shocked anyhow...see where I'm going with this? Very disturbing. Akin to what a pregnant woman feels like when strangers (and not) just reach out and feel her tummy...as if her body no longer belongs to her and is public property to be felt up at will. Very very annoying.

The creative names that children and adults alike have come up with to label me with can range from hilarious (to them) to just down right mean (to me) and, while Red may seem rather redundant, it is the one that most people will call me when they don't know my real name. I'm cool with that...hence Coolred. So now you know about THAT. LOL.

At any rate, my red hair has gone in and out of fashion over the years. I've never been to hair proud...I'm pretty much a wash and wear kind of girl...so the hair has never really changed but I would assume peoples attitude towards it has. Depending on current fashion trends, of which I know zilch about, my red hair can either inspire or cause finger pointing and giggles. *sigh* For the most part I can ignore and get on with it, I'm grown now and no longer allow people to intrude on my peace of mine with their hurtful remarks concerning my hair. (doesn't quite work with other body parts but I'm passed the hair stuff). However, as a child I spent far too much time lamenting the fact that I was CURSED with red hair. And yes...that is how I was made to feel...cursed by God in some way for having something few others had. It was almost like a disability or affliction that people cause people to tut tut over and pretend they didn't notice so as not to hurt your feelings...or just straight out say something completely asinine not realizing that inside I was screaming in rage at God for making me different. *sigh* Sometimes I wonder if my sketchy relationship with God that has waxed and waned over the years, got its initial shove because of my red hair and the effects it has had on my life and psyche? Anyone care to comment on that?

So the way it worked out over the years was...when small, other kids would make fun of me, adults would question my paternity or alternatively gush over me in a profuse fashion as if I was disabled...then when a teen, boys would make snarky comments concerning my red hair (all though more than once I would catch them gazing at it...lol) and girls would gush over how they wished that had that color...but could never dye it just right LOL...and as an adult I would be asked a million times whether this was my REAL hair color, if not, who the heck made this wonderful shade of red cause they were buying it and dying their hair soon as they got home...blah blah blah. Then they go on the way...and I'm still here...with my red hair...just busy getting on with it. *sigh*

Now, back to the customer that inspired this story. An older man came in for a few things and while most of our customers are regulars, we get a few that are merely driving through. You can pick them out easily by the weary way they slouch to the coffee machine or make a beeline for the bathrooms. Rumpled clothes and equally rumpled faces and hair and a certain look of "I'm tired and have no idea what town I'm in" look about them. This older man was quite talkative once he seen me sweeping the floor and struck up a conversation that was quite the eye opener...or should I say gave a previously unknown insight into the power of my red hair...or any red hair I would assume.

This mans name was Charlie and Charlie commented on how beautiful my hair was and right away claimed he "just knew" it was natural and not some poor attempt at true natural red hair. LOL Then Charlie went on to astound me with his declaration of absolute adoration of all things red....when it comes to hair. He said as a young boy he use to chase the girls with red hair and make fun of them simply because he was overwhelmed by their red hair and didn't know what to make of it. He said, every other girl had blond or brown or black hair and it was all so humdrum but red hair shone like the sun, made his eyes hurt to look at it almost and made his hands want to reach out and touch it for some reason. He said as a boy he was , of course, stupid and didn't know one emotion over another, and so assumed that desire to reach out and touch it meant give it a good yank and make her cry. He claimed that he was awestruck and overwhelmed by red hair and just didn't know what to make of it....just knew it caused a reaction in him. Eventually he sorted out his feelings and married a girl with red hair and lived happy ever after...well not quite...apparently she had a wicked temper and eventually it was either kill her or get divorced. He opted wisely for divorce...but that hasn't put him off redheads apparently as he went on to describe his many girlfriends etc that all somehow had varying shades of red hair.

At this point I'm starting to wonder if this was some sort of elaborate pick up line even though he was quite a bit older than me by the look of it, but then he shook himself back to the present and looked at me and said....

"Don't ever let anyone give you shit about your hair. It just means their jealous and probably means they want to touch it."....then he paid for his coffee and left.

I'm 41 years old and by God if that isn't one of the best explanations for the effect red hair seems to have on people I have ever heard. Not sure if it's true or not...but apparently its true for Charlie...and that's good enough for me.

Red hair might not be so bad after all. LOL

Time: A luxery for the lazy and uninvolved *sigh*

To do list:

1. Essay for English comp due next week. Must interview person I admire then write essay about them. So far I have my person...*sigh*

2. 8 min speech with visuals to prepare for Public Speaking class informing the audience about something of interest to me. Ive chosen topic...written some scintillating ideas etc...and that's about it so far. This is due on the 25th. A lot to do and Ive barely gotten started.

3. keep up with math problems that are online...and in which each section gets closed after a period of time. Not only do I need to find time to work out all these problems...I need to get them done before she closes the section. So far so good but sheesh...dates sneak up on a girl.

4. read read read...I find myself with NO time to read...anything! Not for class, not for pleasure. Books all over the kitchen table unopened, unread. From someone who finds solace in reading, escape in reading, and just simple pleasure...I find this extremely frustrating. I WANNA READ PEOPLE!!!

5. Psych test coming up. Second one. First one I passed...barely...so need to do much better on this one. Need to read the encyclopedic text book..no time. *sigh* At least she records her lectures and makes them available to us. Possibly my salvation. Wish me luck.

6. Newspaper work is full of trying to catch people with busy schedules so I can interview them and then write up Pulitzer Prize winning prose which will eventually get noticed by The New York Times or Mad Magazine...I'm not choosy. Fun but time consuming and somewhat nerve wracking. Deadlines you know!!! never a good deadline to coincide with my schedule.

Mix all that helter skelter activity with a full time job and full time mommy duties and you suddenly find yourself having to sacrifice some things...like sleep...dinner time...bathroom calls because your late meeting someone etc. AND reading for pleasure of course.

So many things to do...not enough time. College is so over rated. Whose idea was this anyhow? grrrr!!!

2 weeks and going strong...

So....2 weeks into the my new college adventure and let me tell you, people, its been hectic with a capital H!!! It seems like I've been on zoom mode permanently and sleep is a thing of the past. Between college and full time work its just rushing from one thing to another....sometimes (well all the time) I have to actually stop and think seriously about what day of the week it is and where am I supposed to be at that time. Good thing I write this stuff down.


Anyhow, I thought I would get some thoughts out there about how I feel concerning my first two weeks. I've had time to get a feel for the classes, the instructors, other students, and just life as a college student in general. Some good, some not so good...but all part and parcel and I'm dealing with it (or deluding myself...hmmm?).

So lets see....what should we start with?




Ah yes, no college semester would be complete without some sort of English Comp class. I've always fancied myself a writer of sorts but writing for pleasure is a whole other world compared to writing essays and whatnot. I don't particularly enjoy this sort of writing as it requires too much preparation and attention to detail. As anyone knows that reads my blog...details are supposed to be fun...not laborious and snooze inducing. At any rate, the teacher is quite nice and funny and tries to make the class and enjoyable experience. Every morning while taking roll she asks us something about ourselves...like if we could learn a new skill what would it be? etc. Certainly gets everyone into the thinking mode and relaxed and ready to go. Not my favorite class but doable.





Next there is math class. I didn't do very well on my entrance exam, or COMPASS, which gauges your math and English
abilities and places you in a class

according to your test scores. Because
I scored low on my math I have to start out at the beginning. The interesting thing is that I was always an A student in math growing up. I was placed in a higher Algebra class then my actual grade due to my advanced skills in that subject...so to sit down and face that test and DRAW A COMPLETE BLANK at the very first question was a kick in the ass I'm telling you. Very embarrassing.

At any rate, once I sat down in this class it only took an hour or two to bring back formulas and whatnot and remind me of all that I KNEW I knew...just couldn't recall when I needed it. I approached my math teacher, explained my predicament and she understood completely. Told me that a lot of us *ahem* older students had that problem and generally regained our skills with just a little reminder or refresher. She told me if I got through the online course work quick enough she would place me in the credited math class...of which she was also the instructor. So I've been working on all that while still attending her class. She's fairly straight forward and teaches in an interesting manner. All that classwork is on line so no books or anything, which is a little frustrating. I like to SEE and FEEL things to better understand. I'm a visual creature.

Next there is Public Speaking. I took this class because I'm horrible at speaking around large groups of people. With just a few I'm considered the joker and can really enjoy myself...more than that and I'm hugging the wall trying to disappear. I figure since I'm studying for a Journalism degree, public speaking would help me in that capacity. So far the class has been really interesting and the instructor makes it fun and enjoyable. He looks somewhat like a throwback hippy from the 70's but he's very well travelled, has a lot of experience speaking etc, and is full of stories about his life and teaching. I look forward to that class a lot. So far I've had to speak in front of the class twice and both times I neither passed out nor froze like a deer in headlights so I guess I'm doing OK. We have to give an speech to "inform" the audience of something and I've chosen to speak about the middle east etc. 8 min to reduce 23 years of experience into a nutshell. Fun!!

Of course I had to take something to do with writing for pleasure so I took a class that deals with the college newspaper. From the first day we are required to interview or write articles for both the published copy and the online version. My first interview was with the head of the BOCES office located within the college. I was nervous but she was wonderful and we had a good first interview. My editor, who happens to work for the Green River Star (the local newspaper for the next town over) actually put the interview in with very little changes. Cool!!! We aren't really in a class setting as we just meet once a week and discuss what new article ideas people have come up with. I've found that ideas are easy and the writing is easy....pinning down your subject!!! Not so easy. Everyone is so busy and schedules conflict like fighting dogs. It's tough. However, because I enjoy writing it's fun as well. Our instructor is very kind and accommodating. Pretty much lets us do what we want and pursue our own ideas...just as long as we submit before the deadline so she can edit etc. I really like this class.

I might point out here that so far my backpack weights about a ton and I haven't even mentioned the class with the biggest heaviest book *sigh*. Between carrying this monster around and running helter skelter for classes and work etc...I feel I'm getting plenty of exercise in. Then again, raiding the plentiful supply of vending machines sprouting in every corner like evil mushrooms doesn't really help. ugh!

So far my most interesting class, and the one I look forward to the most, is Psychology. This class from the start grabs my attention and keeps me wanting more. Granted it's early days yet but I'm the sort of person that if my attention isn't garnered fairly early on I lose interest and move on to the next thing. I don't foresee that happening here. The instructor is extremely diligent in her lectures and includes small anecdotes and case studies or humorous incidents to break up the pace and keep us interested and alert. I didn't do as well as I expected on my first test but I found out later that she bases her tests more on her lectures then on the text book. I missed the first class and so missed this bit of info. I studied the text more and gave less attention to her lectures, interesting though they were. Will change that for future tests...LOL Today she showed us an old Candid Camera piece in which one person in an elevator was persuaded to face the back of the elevator simply because everyone else in the elevator faced the back...for no apparent reason. We are learning about how social pressure to conform makes us all do things we wouldn't do willingly...or agree with things we don't agree with but will do so just to fit in etc. Very interesting and, of course, very true. I love this class....low mark and all.

Anyhow, that's sort of a wrap up with my first two weeks. A mixture of sweat blood and tears with some laughter and feelings of accomplishment thrown into the pot...mix it all up and you get one tired college student. Par for the course I'm sure.

I found this grid and thought it was quite apt. I spend too much time trying to find a parking spot and not enough time doing the other stuff...have to leave home earlier and earlier just to get to class on time. Cuts into my few remaining hours of sleep. *sigh* Guess I'll sleep when I'm dead. LOL

Will do another update later on down the line when I've had time to adjust and make the most of this hectic schedule. Don't hold your breath on that just yet though...feels like it's going to take some time. *yawn*