Amy and I have been playing some serious Donkey Kong Country 3 lately on her Super Nintendo. Oh what fun... When I play, I get very into what I'm doing...everyone knows how intense I can be. We were so excited while we played that the remotes would make this cracking noise from the pressure we exerted on them. I finally told Amy that my thumb was KILLING me and I would need to stop soon. She said, "You always have the weirdest injuries." She titled my injury "GAMER'S THUMB".
Now you know what that pain in your thumb from playing to many video games is called...
How about that for a medical term, Bret?
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Dear Grandmother...
I wrote this letter to Grandmother yesterday afternoon. It isn't my typical light-hearted story, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it.
Dear Grandmother,
This letter has been in progress for over a year. Please forgive me for not writing it sooner. Today, I found a picture of papa and you with the rest of our family. When I took the time to look at it, a whole flood of emotions poured out—years of things that should have been said along the way, all piling up behind a wall of indifference. Why is it we fail to express the things in our hearts to those we care about deeply? I don't think I've told you I love you enough and I'm one of the luckiest people alive to have had someone like you to influence me.
It's such a pity I wasted away the treasures of my youth. Had I realized what a valuable possession I had while growing up, I would have savored it all the more. So much was lost because I didn't take enough time or effort to listen, talk, ask, and appreciate. Those things I do remember are such wondrous gifts that mean more than anything…no one can take them away.
I remember so many things like the first time I went to the basement in your house-that was real adventure. I remember the big tree out front, the millions of chairs on the porch, the smell of freshly cut wood in papa’s workshop, the many times I sat with Dad on the tractor, the first time I rode the four-wheeler, the holiday dinners, the fear of the outhouse, the many sets of deer antlers hung for visitors to see, the endless amount of stuff in cabinets, the high ceilings, the Mexican Cornbread, the snake in the barn, the never-ending fields bordered by old fences, the B-B guns and dead birds, the traditional skeet shooting, the half pieces of gum you kept in your car, the ongoing attempts of drawing water from the well, the infamous hopscotch playing, the beautiful corn twice as tall as me, the old and faded pictures of family and friends, the irreplaceable knives papa made, the day you rode my bicycle, the hot muggy summer afternoons, and so many other excellent memories.
But most dear of all, the thoughts that flood my mind the most, are of smiling faces, laughter, family, friends, good times and bad jokes, happiness and a carefree spirit, talk around the dinner table, conversations on the porch, stories made sweet by the passage of time, hugs and hands held around the table in prayer, the warmth of being with people who would always love you. Most of all, I remember the love between you and papa—a love that rarely showed itself outwardly in superficial ways, but a love that screamed and surged through the respect and concern that was shown toward each other.
I also remember the changes—the trees planted and now growing tall, things uprooted by hurricanes and the old house being torn down, my siblings growing through their childhood only to show their own children in what seems a few years later, older faces growing more wrinkled, bodies growing tall and strong-others weak and frail, times of innocence and a world gone crazy, and the crops booming before the leaves begin falling.
When I think of all that has passed, something so wondrous and special has slipped by—never to be redone. A time has passed that cannot be relived, and I am glad I was there to experience the best parts. Thank you grandmother…
For the longest time there was hardly a day to go by that I didn't think of papa. Now, sorry to say, because of everyday life it's not that often that I think of him; but when I do it is with great respect and envy. He was the best man I've ever known. He carved a life of honesty, integrity, and hard work. He built and left a legacy that I hope will stand through my generation. I am ashamed by my own life when I think of his and how he overcame so much hardship. The same fires that melt the wax of others’ lives purified the insignificance of his to leave a legacy of honor and nobleness.
I have always thought of papa as strength and integrity and of you as laughter and love. You laughed at the things in life that I took too seriously. You laughed at yourself to show me that we are indeed funny creatures. You laughed to show me that life isn't so bad after all. Thank you for laughing but most importantly for loving the way you do—often times in silence and toil, in firmness and fairness, in not complaining or fussing, but in a compulsive, quiet reserve that just keeps on wanting, hoping, and praying for the best in us.
I hope I've conveyed a little of what I feel through this letter. It is important, and I’ve been too long in the process of telling you. You deserve to know that you have meant so much to me. I hope to one day share these things with my own children (which will be quite some time from now) and tell them about all the wonderful things their great-grandmother and great-papa did.
Thanks so much, grandmother. I love you.
Your youngest grandchild,
Erin LaJune Henderson
Dear Grandmother,
This letter has been in progress for over a year. Please forgive me for not writing it sooner. Today, I found a picture of papa and you with the rest of our family. When I took the time to look at it, a whole flood of emotions poured out—years of things that should have been said along the way, all piling up behind a wall of indifference. Why is it we fail to express the things in our hearts to those we care about deeply? I don't think I've told you I love you enough and I'm one of the luckiest people alive to have had someone like you to influence me.
It's such a pity I wasted away the treasures of my youth. Had I realized what a valuable possession I had while growing up, I would have savored it all the more. So much was lost because I didn't take enough time or effort to listen, talk, ask, and appreciate. Those things I do remember are such wondrous gifts that mean more than anything…no one can take them away.
I remember so many things like the first time I went to the basement in your house-that was real adventure. I remember the big tree out front, the millions of chairs on the porch, the smell of freshly cut wood in papa’s workshop, the many times I sat with Dad on the tractor, the first time I rode the four-wheeler, the holiday dinners, the fear of the outhouse, the many sets of deer antlers hung for visitors to see, the endless amount of stuff in cabinets, the high ceilings, the Mexican Cornbread, the snake in the barn, the never-ending fields bordered by old fences, the B-B guns and dead birds, the traditional skeet shooting, the half pieces of gum you kept in your car, the ongoing attempts of drawing water from the well, the infamous hopscotch playing, the beautiful corn twice as tall as me, the old and faded pictures of family and friends, the irreplaceable knives papa made, the day you rode my bicycle, the hot muggy summer afternoons, and so many other excellent memories.
But most dear of all, the thoughts that flood my mind the most, are of smiling faces, laughter, family, friends, good times and bad jokes, happiness and a carefree spirit, talk around the dinner table, conversations on the porch, stories made sweet by the passage of time, hugs and hands held around the table in prayer, the warmth of being with people who would always love you. Most of all, I remember the love between you and papa—a love that rarely showed itself outwardly in superficial ways, but a love that screamed and surged through the respect and concern that was shown toward each other.
I also remember the changes—the trees planted and now growing tall, things uprooted by hurricanes and the old house being torn down, my siblings growing through their childhood only to show their own children in what seems a few years later, older faces growing more wrinkled, bodies growing tall and strong-others weak and frail, times of innocence and a world gone crazy, and the crops booming before the leaves begin falling.
When I think of all that has passed, something so wondrous and special has slipped by—never to be redone. A time has passed that cannot be relived, and I am glad I was there to experience the best parts. Thank you grandmother…
For the longest time there was hardly a day to go by that I didn't think of papa. Now, sorry to say, because of everyday life it's not that often that I think of him; but when I do it is with great respect and envy. He was the best man I've ever known. He carved a life of honesty, integrity, and hard work. He built and left a legacy that I hope will stand through my generation. I am ashamed by my own life when I think of his and how he overcame so much hardship. The same fires that melt the wax of others’ lives purified the insignificance of his to leave a legacy of honor and nobleness.
I have always thought of papa as strength and integrity and of you as laughter and love. You laughed at the things in life that I took too seriously. You laughed at yourself to show me that we are indeed funny creatures. You laughed to show me that life isn't so bad after all. Thank you for laughing but most importantly for loving the way you do—often times in silence and toil, in firmness and fairness, in not complaining or fussing, but in a compulsive, quiet reserve that just keeps on wanting, hoping, and praying for the best in us.
I hope I've conveyed a little of what I feel through this letter. It is important, and I’ve been too long in the process of telling you. You deserve to know that you have meant so much to me. I hope to one day share these things with my own children (which will be quite some time from now) and tell them about all the wonderful things their great-grandmother and great-papa did.
Thanks so much, grandmother. I love you.
Your youngest grandchild,
Erin LaJune Henderson
Friday, September 26, 2008
Rivers Langley Quote for the Day...
Rivers Langley is a genius guy in one of my English classes. He has a very unusual way of thinking of things. I told you that because the quote will make more sense knowing this.
In my Technology, Literacy, and Culture class, we were discussing Brave New World and how the idea of children, mother, and father are profane words. Rivers then brilliantly chimed in, "Well, to be quite honest...in the western world, kids are like pets."
After he said this, the whole class erupted with laughter. He said, "Let me finish though. For example, in Africa, kids are put to work as soon as they are able. Here in America, we wouldn't think of such a thing. I stand with my statement that we think of kids as pets."
Quote for the day: "Kids are like pets."
In my Technology, Literacy, and Culture class, we were discussing Brave New World and how the idea of children, mother, and father are profane words. Rivers then brilliantly chimed in, "Well, to be quite honest...in the western world, kids are like pets."
After he said this, the whole class erupted with laughter. He said, "Let me finish though. For example, in Africa, kids are put to work as soon as they are able. Here in America, we wouldn't think of such a thing. I stand with my statement that we think of kids as pets."
Quote for the day: "Kids are like pets."
Chewbacca
Last week on Wednesday, Amy introduced me to the wonderful world of trivia at Shakey's...SO MUCH FUN! I am awful at most of the trivia, but it is still fun to try and make up stupid answers for those you don't know.
This Wednesday, on our way back, I had to pull out of the parking lot quickly and I screamed, "HOLD ON TO YOUR BUTTS!" Amy said, "Where in the world did that phrase come from?" I told her that Brad had said it came from a movie like Star Wars or something. She said, "Uhh, no. I know those movies and that is NOT in it."
I then realized it was from Jurassic Park...that makes sense! Amy and I continued the discussion about if it would have been said in Star Wars, who would've said it? She said Han Solo would be the only one she could imagine that could say it. I then brilliantly said, "WHAT IF CHEWBACCA SAID IT?" We laughed for a minute and then continued to try and imitate what he would sound like. Neither of us were very good at it, but it was very funny.
This Wednesday, on our way back, I had to pull out of the parking lot quickly and I screamed, "HOLD ON TO YOUR BUTTS!" Amy said, "Where in the world did that phrase come from?" I told her that Brad had said it came from a movie like Star Wars or something. She said, "Uhh, no. I know those movies and that is NOT in it."
I then realized it was from Jurassic Park...that makes sense! Amy and I continued the discussion about if it would have been said in Star Wars, who would've said it? She said Han Solo would be the only one she could imagine that could say it. I then brilliantly said, "WHAT IF CHEWBACCA SAID IT?" We laughed for a minute and then continued to try and imitate what he would sound like. Neither of us were very good at it, but it was very funny.
Jogging 101-Day 13-16
Friday-Day 13
We met on the corner of Samford and Donahue to run the tiger paws around campus, but our teacher didn't show up because of an emergency with her husband. We left...
Monday-Day 14
We DID meet at the corner of Samford and Donahue to run the tiger paws. This is 2.3 miles...and everyone on campus stares at you like you are crazy when passing them by. I never noticed how big and HILLY campus really is. I finished alive and well.
Wednesday-Day 15
We had a syllabus quiz on blackboard, so we didn't go to class. I did, however, jog two miles on my own at my trailer. I'm getting into the swing of things and enjoying jogging once again!
Friday-Day 16
We had our time trials today for our midterm today. I was in the middle of the pack and lapped 5 people once and 1 person twice. However, when I finished, I was next to last. I saw that group of 5 girls turning in their time sheets and leaving. The other girl finished about two seconds behind me. I was just dumbstruck...I had no idea how this happened. As I was filling out my time sheet, she asked how I felt. I told her I felt like I had lapped several of the people who finished before me. She said I did. Later in an email, she told me that my grade would be good because of my honesty and that we would do time trials again in groups because of this dishonesty. I didn't rat anyone out, but I was a bit bitter toward those "cheaters".
We met on the corner of Samford and Donahue to run the tiger paws around campus, but our teacher didn't show up because of an emergency with her husband. We left...
Monday-Day 14
We DID meet at the corner of Samford and Donahue to run the tiger paws. This is 2.3 miles...and everyone on campus stares at you like you are crazy when passing them by. I never noticed how big and HILLY campus really is. I finished alive and well.
Wednesday-Day 15
We had a syllabus quiz on blackboard, so we didn't go to class. I did, however, jog two miles on my own at my trailer. I'm getting into the swing of things and enjoying jogging once again!
Friday-Day 16
We had our time trials today for our midterm today. I was in the middle of the pack and lapped 5 people once and 1 person twice. However, when I finished, I was next to last. I saw that group of 5 girls turning in their time sheets and leaving. The other girl finished about two seconds behind me. I was just dumbstruck...I had no idea how this happened. As I was filling out my time sheet, she asked how I felt. I told her I felt like I had lapped several of the people who finished before me. She said I did. Later in an email, she told me that my grade would be good because of my honesty and that we would do time trials again in groups because of this dishonesty. I didn't rat anyone out, but I was a bit bitter toward those "cheaters".
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Just One of Those Days
I have never understood the phrase, "It's just one of those days," until yesterday. I woke up to the horrific smell of Lady's diarrhea UNDERNEATH my bed...that location makes it easy to clean up. I had to move my bed, box spring, and mattress to get to it. When I got done, the smell was still there so I opened the window and turned a fan on in front of it to try to make the smell disappear! After doing this, I tried to move my bed back, but it was being retarded and not going back together correctly. I ended up (later that day) having to move EVERYTHING in my room so I could move my bed farther out to fix it.
After I met with my jogging class in the Haley "Research and Learning Center," I tried to go out the FIRE emergency exit. It was almost very embarrassing. Then, it started to ran on me as I was walking to the transit stop...guess who didn't have an umbrella or rain jacket! Nice...
When I got home, I was so caught up with my homework that I lost track of time. I barely had enough time to get my books, etc. together! I grabbed my Camelback water bottle and filled it with some punch...sounds yummy, right? I put the dogs in the kennel, grabbed my drink and tipped it up to drink some of the juice...I DIDN'T ON SCREW THE TOP! It got all over my clothes and on the kitchen floor--luckily I wasn't on the carpet!
I started walking toward the transit stop and noticed the remaining punch in my bottle didn't taste quite right. I figured it was from the water that had dried inside it while in the dishwasher. So, I swished it around right before getting on the bus and noticed it had 2 inches of suds in it! THERE WAS SOAP STILL IN IT FROM THE WASH...THAT'S WHY IT DIDN'T TASTE RIGHT!
When I got to my important class, I sat down in the room thinking the day is just going to get so much better, but NO! As I was taking notes in class, I leaned down to see something closer on my paper. I then realized the girl in front of me smelled like throw up...upon discovering this, the smell became amplified for the rest of the class period and made me feel so nauseous. I know what you are thinking...move...but I couldn't move because we have assigned seats. If I get sick again, I'm going to be soooooooo MAD!
Later on that night, some friends and I went out to eat at Locos...yummy! I kept mis-speaking, but finally ordered a water--trying to be cheap, but the water tasted funny. I didn't want to say anything because no one else had a problem and I had just drunk about 1/4 a cup of soap already, so it could've just been me! However, (later on) I realized no one else had been drinking their water either! I finally asked everyone and they said it tasted like rust--that's why they hadn't drank any of it! Just to compare, I had downed about all of my glassful...and those glasses are BIG at Locos! Needless to say, I ordered sweet tea...
I never fully understood why people said, "It's just one of those days." Now, I OFFICALLY DO!
After I met with my jogging class in the Haley "Research and Learning Center," I tried to go out the FIRE emergency exit. It was almost very embarrassing. Then, it started to ran on me as I was walking to the transit stop...guess who didn't have an umbrella or rain jacket! Nice...
When I got home, I was so caught up with my homework that I lost track of time. I barely had enough time to get my books, etc. together! I grabbed my Camelback water bottle and filled it with some punch...sounds yummy, right? I put the dogs in the kennel, grabbed my drink and tipped it up to drink some of the juice...I DIDN'T ON SCREW THE TOP! It got all over my clothes and on the kitchen floor--luckily I wasn't on the carpet!
I started walking toward the transit stop and noticed the remaining punch in my bottle didn't taste quite right. I figured it was from the water that had dried inside it while in the dishwasher. So, I swished it around right before getting on the bus and noticed it had 2 inches of suds in it! THERE WAS SOAP STILL IN IT FROM THE WASH...THAT'S WHY IT DIDN'T TASTE RIGHT!
When I got to my important class, I sat down in the room thinking the day is just going to get so much better, but NO! As I was taking notes in class, I leaned down to see something closer on my paper. I then realized the girl in front of me smelled like throw up...upon discovering this, the smell became amplified for the rest of the class period and made me feel so nauseous. I know what you are thinking...move...but I couldn't move because we have assigned seats. If I get sick again, I'm going to be soooooooo MAD!
Later on that night, some friends and I went out to eat at Locos...yummy! I kept mis-speaking, but finally ordered a water--trying to be cheap, but the water tasted funny. I didn't want to say anything because no one else had a problem and I had just drunk about 1/4 a cup of soap already, so it could've just been me! However, (later on) I realized no one else had been drinking their water either! I finally asked everyone and they said it tasted like rust--that's why they hadn't drank any of it! Just to compare, I had downed about all of my glassful...and those glasses are BIG at Locos! Needless to say, I ordered sweet tea...
I never fully understood why people said, "It's just one of those days." Now, I OFFICALLY DO!
Jogging 101-Day 12
We met in Haley Center to have "class" today...interesting that we have a lecture about jogging! Anyway, she told us to meet in Haley 3224. If you have never been to Haley (in her case), this can be quite confusing! Some of us got there early and went ahead and sat down in the classroom. All of a sudden, a flock of Spanish Phonetics students came in...apparently, we had the wrong classroom...awkward! When she finally shows up and gets up to the right room number, she tells us we are going to be running the tiger-paws around campus...equaling about 2.3 miles! I haven't run all week...I'm going to die! I am actually going to jog some this afternoon so I won't be in THAT bad of shape tomorrow!! Pray for me...
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