Food journal

Home is Where the Stomach is:

My Life Told Through Food

Billy Hentenaar

Saturday, November 20:

1:38 A.M-

            This is my first day of keeping a food journal. I almost didn’t realize that it was already Saturday; sometimes I don’t consider it the next day until I wake up. I arrived home last night at about 9 P.M, which was just after dinner, so I didn’t even think about eating. Now it’s almost two in the morning, and I’m hungry. The journey to the refrigerator was almost fatal. Since everyone else in my family is asleep by this time, I can’t turn on any lights. So I have to travel from my room to the kitchen and back in the pitch black darkness. I got really good at this back when I lived at home; it was fairly common for me to stay up until two or two-thirty in the morning, even on school nights. As I left my room, I was filled with confidence that I could complete my journey unscathed. This was my biggest mistake. Here is the path that I remember having to take:

Now here is the path that existed tonight:

I haven’t been home in so long that enough things had been moved, added, or replaced left and right. But after two stubbed toes, a shin bruise, cat scratches, and maybe a concussion, I had my two cheese sticks and a cup of water. It was satisfying enough. I just wanted something to keep my stomach calm for the night, so I grabbed the first good thing I saw in the refrigerator. I love cheese and water is my default drink for all occasions. I ate and drank my meal rather quickly and went to go get ready for bed. We are travelling to Savannah later today for my two brothers’ soccer game on Sunday.

11:18 A.M-

            This is the first stop on our trip to Savannah. So far we’ve been driving for four hours, which is right around that time that people start to get hungry again after eating a meal. I didn’t eat breakfast, though. In fact, I don’t remember a time that I have eaten breakfast at my house. I just don’t think that the cereal that my Dad loves so much (vaguely named “Crisp Crunch”) is worth the sleep that I’d be losing. We went through the McDonalds drive-thru because it was the only thing we could all agree on. “We” consists of me, my Mom, my sister (Caitlyn), my older younger brother (Alex), and my youngest brother (Ian). My dad has to work this weekend, so he’s at home. I got a Double Cheeseburger meal with water instead of a soda. I think I always get this when I go to McDonalds. I rarely go to fast food places anymore. Partly because I’m a college student surrounded by great dining halls and partly because I gave it up when I was “in season” for swimming, soccer, and track. Of course, being in all these sports for school, “in season” actually meant “all year” during my senior year in high school. But, it is inevitable to have drive-thru on long family trips; it’s just too much work to have everyone make themselves a decent lunch before we leave. Anyway, I ate my Double cheeseburger with fries and enjoyed it. It smelled good, was warm, and tasted great. I especially enjoyed the fries. I’m pretty sure it’s actually the salt that I like so much. I love salt even more than cheese.

2:35 P.M-

            We arrived at the hotel around 1:30 and spent an hour unpacking and relaxing. Our family doesn’t pack food for trips, so we ate out again. This time, we ate at The Drive-In. It’s a place my Mom used to go to for dates. I still felt kind of full, and since I just sat around for two hours after eating the McDonalds, I felt kind of queasy. In an effort to avoid getting any queasier, I ordered a kid’s chicken finger meal. It came with three small fried chicken fingers, about twenty fries, and a small cup of water. It was the perfect size. I started with my fries, which Ian pointed out that I always do, and finished with the chicken fingers. Getting the kid’s meal was also a move to save money. I’m pretty sure I get that urge to save money from my Dad; he never orders anything. He just eats everyone’s leftovers. We call him “the catfish” when he does this.

(My family before meals)                                                                    (My family during meals)

7:50 P.M-

            It’s dinner time, and because my Mom wants my brothers to play well, we’re stuffing Alex and Ian with carbs (spell-check desperately wants me to change “carbs” to “crabs,” which would make the whole story take on a completely different tone). I can understand why she tried so hard to get them fully ready; we travelled five or six hours for about seventy minutes of a soccer game, so they better play pretty damn well. We ate at a locally based Italian restaurant. I couldn’t make out its name because the sign was in heavy cursive Italian words with fading paint. I got just a regular order of macaroni and cheese, a side of mashed potatoes, and water. For such a plain sounding meal, it turned out to be pretty delicious. They definitely used legitimate ingredients in the macaroni and cheese. Sometimes you can tell if the restaurant used real cheese or Kraft Singles Cheese Product, which doesn’t even qualify as cheese. It’s cheese product. Before the meal, our family was talking and having a good time. It was interesting to see that when the food arrived, we got significantly quieter as we started eating. Then, as the meal went on and there was less and less food, we all began talking again and getting louder. I’m not sure why that happened, but it was like our family’s decibel output was inversely related to the amount of food on our plates. I guess math can apply to things outside of the classroom. Weird.

Sunday, November 21:

9:13 A.M-

            It’s about an hour and forty-five minutes until game time, which means it’s breakfast time. I haven’t seen any difference between my regular brothers and my carb-loaded brothers yet, but maybe that’s because we haven’t done much today that requires a lot of energy. Our hotel didn’t offer a free breakfast, so we went to McDonalds again because it was on the way to the soccer fields. It was drive-thru again and I got a chicken biscuit with a hash brown and water. I learned that I enjoy chicken biscuits significantly more if they’re warm when I eat them. I wasn’t that hungry when we first got our food, so I ate about half of it and waited to eat the other half at the soccer fields. Once cooled, the biscuit was chewy and tasted strongly of pepper. I ate it all, though, because I hate seeing food go to waste.

1:52 P.M-

            The soccer team tied 2-2, which put the parents in a good mood (the team usually loses to the tune of 5-0 or something similar). The players, though, were frustrated and angry. But when we finally arrived to Applebee’s and got our food, their mood suddenly changed. Conversation topics such as how bad the refs were changed to joke-telling and light hearted small talk. Before the meal, there were scowls; during and after the meal, there were smiles and laughter. Even my mood lifted slightly as I received my cheeseburger with fries and water. It came just how I ordered it: well-done and with just cheese. I wound up adding my own ketchup to the fries and burger. I remembered what Ian said about how I always start with my fries first, so I tried eating my meal burger first. I would take a couple bites of my burger and put it down to either take a sip of water or talk, and when I would go back to my food I found myself grabbing for fries instinctively. I eventually gave up on the change and downed my fries.

6:45 P.M-

            We were on River Street when we passed by a candy shop. We’ve been to Savannah and River Street several times before, but this was the first time I ever actually bought something from the candy store; it’s just too expensive in there. It was a white chocolate peanut butter cup. And it was delicious. At first. Normally, I enjoy peanut butter and will even eat it plain. The peanut butter in this candy tasted really weird, though. I wish they had just used Peter Pan or even Jiffy in the treat, but I was stuck with thick, strange tasting peanut butter. So I did the most logical thing, which was to break the cup in half and give the peanut butter insides to my sister. I enjoyed the white chocolate part, but it still tasted a little bit like the peanut butter.

8:28 P.M-

            We ate a small dinner at Loco’s. I realized that I consume a large amount of water at meals. The cups at Loco’s are enormous, and I finished three full cups of water throughout dinner. Caitlyn also said that I should mention my ice addiction. I don’t ever get straws because I like chewing my ice. When I said I finished three cups of water earlier, I meant the cup is entirely empty. When I finish the liquid part of my drink, I keep going and eat all of the leftover ice too. Mom says that I’m going to break all of my teeth in half when I get old, which is ridiculous because I don’t even chew ice with my front teeth. How will they break?

(Me at 80, according to my Mom)

 For the food part of dinner, we all shared medium chicken wings. I think I had five or six; I wasn’t too hungry. I dipped each wing into a container of bleu cheese to add a little more flavor and to take away some of the sting of wings. I am a wimp when it comes to hot foods. We ate as a family and with two other families from the soccer team. We all had a good time.

Monday, November 22:

12:43 P.M-

            We had the first swim practice of the break today. I help coach my two brothers and the other dedicated high school swimmers who show up. After practice I made plans to eat with my two best friends somewhere in Statham. We had no idea where we would eat; it felt like we were just using food as an excuse to get together. For me, it was also an excuse to get out of holiday cleaning. When my friend, Bug, arrived at my house, I drove him over to Statham to meet Daniel. We eventually decided to eat at a Waffle House, mainly because it still felt like breakfast time. I ordered a waffle and an egg and cheese biscuit with some water. Everything was kind of soggy, just like our seats, table, and waitress. I’m not sure if it was intentional or not, but all the women were either waitresses or cleaning, and the guys were the ones cooking. We ate pretty quickly and stayed to talk for a while. After a morning of hard practice, it was relaxing to just sit and talk to my best friends. After a little over an hour, we left and I took Bug back to his car.

7:18 P.M-

            We have been cleaning all day ever since I got back. You don’t really realize how hungry you are when you’re busy all day. I haven’t even been able to think of food all day. Unfortunately, I don’t see the cleaning ending anytime soon. We don’t exactly have real food at our house. Our pantry is filled with Ramen Noodles and other types of snacks, and we don’t eat as a family. We spend our day entertaining ourselves and only eat when we get hungry. For dinner, I decided to make a turkey sandwich and have two cups of 2% milk. It was pretty plain and I ate it without much thought. Then it was back to cleaning.

Tuesday, November 23:

1:20 A.M-

            Since my dad was at work, there is no one awake and no lights are on. Again, I made a dangerous journey to the refrigerator, but this time I brought my cell phone to light the way. I made it to and from the kitchen without making a sound. I got two cheese sticks again, but nothing to drink this time. If I got thirsty, I was ready to drink from the sink in my bathroom. I just didn’t want to make too much noise and wake anyone up. I got the cheese sticks because they were the first things I saw when I opened the refrigerator.

9:45 A.M-

            After swim practice, my Mom, brothers, sister, and I all went to Dairy Queen to eat breakfast biscuits. We arrived to a crowded restaurant and almost turned back, but Alex brought up the point that Dairy Queen has the best biscuits in our town. We decided it’d be worth it to wait ten minutes in line instead of getting breakfast almost right away anywhere else. I ordered a chicken biscuit, but no water because it cost money there to order some. I figured I could just share water with my sister. Unfortunately, she was thinking the same thing and decided not to get any either. We ate our breakfast and were, as usual, the liveliest table. Most of the conversation consisted of my brothers and I making fun of my sister. I’m not sure if it was a psychological thing or not, but my chicken biscuit seemed extra salty, which made me thirsty. Before my mouth could shrivel up, Ian announced that his chocolate milk tasted weird and offered it to me. I gladly accepted. As I left, I remembered to look at who was cooking and serving the food. Unlike Waffle House, there was a general mixture of male and female cooks and cashiers.

6:19 P.M-

            We have been cleaning all day again. I think it’s a mixture of constant work and general apathy about our home food that keeps my appetite at bay. It’s hard to get excited about food like oatmeal, soup, ham and turkey sandwiches, and Pringles after coming from ECV or Snelling. And because lunches and dinners are not a family activity, there’s nothing to make sure that I eat when I’m supposed to. I took a break from cleaning to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich. Usually I take my time in preparing a grilled cheese sandwich; they don’t taste very good when rushed. This time, though, I began starving as soon as I got the ingredients out. I turned on the skillet to the “High” setting and quickly spread the mayonnaise on the outsides of the bread. I realized that the cheese had been in the refrigerator and was pretty cold, so in order to speed the cooking up, I put the cheese directly on the skillet for a few seconds at a time. In hindsight, this was probably a bad idea. It could have melted directly to the skillet, taking even more time and creating a mess that I’d just have to clean up later. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and thankfully it all worked out. To my surprise, the sandwich was one of the best looking- and best tasting- I had ever had. The outsides were a perfect golden and the insides were melted just the right amount. My mouth was watering before I ate it, while I ate it, and now just thinking about eating it again. To go with my sandwich, I had two cups of water and a peppermint. I immediately regretted the peppermint, because it ruined the taste of the grilled cheese that was left over.

10:30 P.M-

            We have been done cleaning for a while, and just sitting around and being bored has made me think of food. Once I started thinking of food, I couldn’t stop and I became hungrier and hungrier. To stop that cycle, I finished off a can of Pringles. There was probably between a fourth and a third of the can left before I got my hands on it, so I ate a decent amount of chips.

Wednesday, November 24:

12:24 P.M-

            My sister, in a completely uncharacteristic move, decided to make us all peanut butter sandwiches. I have no idea what made her do that, but I didn’t complain. I accepted mine gladly, and poured myself a glass of milk to join my sandwich. While we were eating, the topic of Thanksgiving came up. To my surprise, we were told that we are not eating at our house tomorrow. Instead, we are going over to a family friend’s house to join their family. All we have to do is bring the desserts. It got me thinking about the last essay we had in this class and how I read about the huge dinners the Scandinavians have. I don’t think I could ever be a Scandinavian, because their lives are so closely connected to their food. What I read in the cookbook is that they frequently have large dinners either because their families are large or because they often invite people over. We have been cleaning the house so much this week, and that’s so we can go over to someone else’s house to eat. I can’t imagine doing this every week or so, and to a greater degree. It’s just too much work for me.

1:39 P.M-

            Our work has been slow today, mainly because my Mom has been taking a nap. With all of this downtime, it starts to feel like I’m really at home. I talk to my siblings, play games, and just sit around. Every once in a while, I’ll think about food and get a little hungry. I just finished eating a handful of cheez-its. I’ve always liked cheez-its for their salt content. They are also cheese flavored, which just makes it all better. I tried to eat them one at a time to make the experience last longer, but I discovered that the more cheez-its you have in your mouth, the more intense the flavor is. I ended up eating three or four at a time until my supply ran out. I will probably get some more later.

3:20 P.M-

            We got another break, and it’s back to the pantry. I spent about a minute trying to decide between more cheez-its and a fuller meal. The cheez-its won out, and I grabbed another handful.

7:54 P.M-

            My Dad came back from work hungry. He is usually the one who does the cooking for dinner. He cooks things like hotdogs, TV dinners, pizzas, and other general fast dinners for us. This time he made hotdogs for me, Alex, and Caitlyn. I had one covered with ketchup and another with a little bit of mustard. I decided to have some grape juice to go with my dinner. They weren’t the best hotdogs in the world (they were microwaved), but they were good enough for me to eat.

Thursday, November 25- THANKSGIVING:

11:18 A.M-

            There was no swim practice today, so I slept in until around eleven. I was pretty hungry when I woke up, so I headed straight for the kitchen. I grabbed a pack of strawberry Pop-tarts, two cheese sticks, a bottle of water, some Pringles, and a piece of unidentified Halloween candy. I was about to shove it all in my mouth when I remembered that it was Thanksgiving. I had planned to not stuff myself at home so I could stuff myself at dinner. Reluctantly, I put the Pringles and candy back. I wasn’t completely satisfied with my meal, but we were starting our Thanksgiving feast at two. I knew I could last until then without withering away too much.

3:10 P.M-

            I was a troll from around 2:20 until the time the turkey was finally done at 3:10. I was starving, and smelling the food cooking was only making it worse. Nothing I could do made it any better. If I went outside, the fire cooking the vegetables was going. I couldn’t watch football because the TV was about six feet away from the oven. I couldn’t escape, and with every minute that passed, I got hungrier and more frustrated. I would just slump around making angry faces at people who were passing by. When the tables were set, I could feel the anticipation rising as well as my mood. The dining rooms were crowded. The young kids sat at a small table in one room, and the adults sat at a big table in the room next to it:

The only thing that bothered me about the meal was the music in the background. It was traditional classical music only used to fill in the quiet periods when everyone was stuffing themselves, but for some reason it made me uneasy. Normally I love classical music, which is a good thing considering the fact that my life goal is to be in an orchestra. I also normally love eating with friends and family. But I think the two put together made it too formal of an occasion. I felt like I was at a really nice restaurant where I had to behave extremely well and have exceptional manners. When the food started disappearing off of our plates and our noise level began rising, though, it felt more comfortable.

            My feast consisted of a turkey leg, other chunks of turkey (I’m not sure from where), mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie with whipped cream, ice cream with whipped cream, just plain whipped cream, carrots, peas, and squash casserole, topped off with sweet tea, and seconds (at least) of each. I ate until I felt ready to explode, and then I took one last bite of turkey. I didn’t even have room for more dessert several hours later. I was satisfied and happy again.

Friday, November 26:

12:38 P.M-

            We are putting the last touches on our house before Haley and Brian come over to eat leftovers. They are bringing some of their families’ leftovers as well, and we will have the Hentenaars’ Redneck Potluck Day-After-Thanksgiving Leftovers Dinner. Maybe it will become an annual thing if we can find a shorter name for it. After beginning my twenty minute break, I felt my stomach start to growl. I knew I had to find something to eat quickly, or I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I was looking for something fast and easy to make when my Mom gave me a great solution; she asked me to go to Little Caesar’s and get a couple pizzas. She even paid me to do it. Ten minutes later, we had our pizza and were filling ourselves up. I had two slices of cheese pizza and another slice of pepperoni. The best thing about Little Caesar’s pizzas is that they are always ready and hot. It is pretty much the definition of fast food. I got in and out of the place in under three minutes. I also snuck a slice of pizza on the way back, but didn’t tell anyone. The smell was just too tempting for me to resist.

3:12 P.M-

            I prepared myself a bowl of Ramen Noodles for lunch. I’ve always enjoyed everything about Ramen except for the amount of time it takes to cook it. Usually, I only make it when I’m starting to get hungry because I know that I will be hungry by the time they’re ready. Like when I’m cooking grilled cheese sandwiches, I took some shortcuts to try to cut back on preparation time. I didn’t let the water boil all the way so I wouldn’t have to wait as long for it to cool down, and I put the seasoning and noodles in at the same time in the beginning. I quickly ate them all and felt pretty full for a while after that.

7:30 P.M-

            Brian and Haley arrived and we all left for the movie theater to watch the new Harry Potter movie. In order to avoid eating tons of popcorn and candy, we decided to eat at Moe’s before the movie started. All of the food-assemblers at Moe’s were women, and I didn’t see any men working until I saw a janitor down the hall. I had a burrito stuffed with rice, shredded chicken, sour cream, lettuce, and shredded cheese. Chips came on the side, and I used my left over sour cream as a dip to put them in. I also, not surprisingly, drank water with my meal. We all had a good time eating and talking, although my burrito was a little cold and stale. I don’t know how you can get a stale burrito, but if you ever do, throw it away.

Saturday, November 27:

7:45 A.M-

            I arrived at Redcoat rehearsal in time to get our free Chick-fil-a breakfast. It consisted of a chicken biscuit, banana, coffee, water, and a Nutrigrain bar. I’ve always found chick-fil-a biscuits to be very filling, which is good because we need lots of energy to get through gameday. It was really cold outside, so I gladly ate the warm biscuit and drank the warm coffee.

11:04 A.M-

            After our practice, we all got free bar-b-que sandwiches, along with a brownie, Lays chips, and a bottle of water. I had no idea that I wouldn’t eat for the rest of the day, so I ate it all rather quickly. I didn’t mean to not eat, I just didn’t get hungry until it was too late to find any food. The game started at 7:45, which meant that we had to be there at 5 P.M. There was no time to eat at the end of Saturday night because the game ended too close to midnight. Needless to say, I was starving by the end of the night. 

The Worst Nine Months

No, this is not the memoir of an unplanned teenage pregnancy. It is me complaining about something much worse: my TB meds.

TB, or more formally, Tuberculosis, is a bacteria that eats the insides of your lungs. A quick google search of tuberculosis pull up many interesting facts, links, and other sentence fragments from the web pages:

-"Tuberculosis or TB (short for tubercles bacillus) is a common and often deadly infectious disease caused by various strains of mycobacteria" -en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuberculosis


-"The presence of tuberculosis in some societies involves ritualistic processes to be completed to in the hope of clearing the ailment" -Tuberculosis.net


-"Alternative Names. TB; Tuberculosis - pulmonary ... Jatin M. Vyas, MD, PhD" -www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000077.htm


(take careful note of the last alternate name)


-"Health question: What is another name for tuberculosis? consumption is another name for TB, believe it or not" 




..some sites are considerably more believable than others. The phrase "believe it or not" is not very convincing at all when "Ripley's" isn't included in at least a 5 word radius. Even if the sentence went like this: "Alabama says 'Roll Tide' because a group of elephants is called a tide, believe it or not," said the idiot, Ripley's cousin. That's only a three-word buffer between "Ripley's" and "believe it or not," so I'll believe that over something like this: "Einstein's Theory of EverythingInTheWorld states, believe it or not, that paper is just dead tree bits."


In that situation, Ripley's cousin gets more credit than even Einstein. (A group of elephants is called a herd, btw- Ripley's cousin really is an idiot..)


Anyways, I say all of this to (somewhat) bring up my big point.


I Have Tuberculosis And I Might Drop Dead At Any Second...


Actually, it's dormant (sleeping), but I still have to take meds for it. It's also not contagious, so don't worry.


Normally, taking medicine to kill a potentially/most likely fatal bacteria that has infected my body wouldn't bother me, but it does this time. Here's why in order from what aggravates me the least to most:




First of all, I don't really like taking medicine. I'm not afraid of it, and it doesn't make me feel sick or nervous. I just don't feel like taking any kind of medicine. I think that if my body can handle something, then I should let it. By itself. Without medicine. I don't usually take symptom relievers like cough syrups, but those also taste incredibly nasty and I get chills just from smelling them. I'm more lenient with myself on headaches, mainly because they're not really caused by bacteria. I don't know exactly how headaches work, but I'm pretty sure they're not caused by a massive buildup of germs in my skull.


Next, the very intelligent doctors who went through years of medical school to learn to say "whelp, im just gonna stick this needle 'round here somewhere and hopefully we'll git that tricky sumbitch vein," said that if I had the bacteria in my body for over a year without showing symptoms, then I should be safe to live without taking action.


Seems to be good news, since I haven't ever coughed up blood or lung chunks. But the problem is that no one knows when I came into contact with the bacteria. It's like a mysterious haunting inside of me. No one knows where it came from or how it got inside me. There's roughly an eighteen year timespan that I could have breathed in the wrong person's cough. So, it'd be too risky to test the one-year theory. 


Probably the most confusing thing about this is the fact that if I was an active TB case, I'd only need SIX months of medicine until I was off the hook. But, because I'm healthy, I'll need NINE months of meds. What in the world? Why would a healthier person need more medicine? I guess I can understand that it'd be easier to tell if all the germs were gone in an active case. The signs of that would probably be that the person has stopped dying and coughing up their insides. But if they weren't showing signs of Jatin M. Vyas, MD., Ph D. in the first place, it'd be understandable to take a little more time to make sure all the little consumptions were gone so the world doesn't have to deal with a super-immune TB strain. But three extra months? That's an entire 1/4 of a year. That's like a whole season. That's taking the medicine for all of spring, and that's only the amount extra I have to do.


And the worst part about this is that I didn't even need the test in the first place. It was all a misunderstanding. I'm only having to go through this by accident. That's right. I only took the initial TB test because my mom signed me up for it. She only signed me up for it because the doctors said I needed it for college. They only said I needed it for college because they can't read a list of requirements correctly. Or something like that. I should really be thankful for what the doctors have done for me (saving my life when I was a baby)(twice), so I guess I'm really just disappointed in the Tuberculosis staff there. 


What's worse is that I think the Jatin M. Vyas MD., Ph D. medicine is just making me sick. As soon as I started taking it, I noticed my health declining. First it was a stuffy nose. Then it was a little cough. Now its a wash of mucus and a wheezy cough. Every time I take another stupid TB pill, I get a little closer to actually having TB. Maybe that's their plan. Spend three months actually giving me an active case of TB, THEN treating me for it. 


But there's nothing I can do about it now. I'm stuck taking nine months of this god-forsaken medicine. If I don't I think I get quarantined and they force the medicine down my throat every day. Down to my stomach (2:20ish).

Haikus: Vol. 5

WHEN I SHAVE MY BEARD

OWL NESTS FALL OUT OF IT

I NEED TO SHAVE MORE

IM A MOUNTAIN MAN

ANTS ARE CRAWLING IN MY HAIR

I WANT TO GO HOME

I AM SO HUNGRY

TOO BAD I SEWED MY LIPS SHUT

I GUESS ILL JUST STARVE

I RUN OVER CATS

I DO IT BECAUSE ITS FUN

NEXT TIME ILL TRY KIDS

INVISIBLE HAIKU:

NOT INVISIBLE HAIKU:

WAITING AT MY HOUSE

MAYBE FRIENDS WILL COME THIS TIME

BUT THEY NEVER DO

CAMERAS IN YOUR ROOM

YOU ARE UNDER SURVEILLANCE

TWENTY-FOUR SEVEN

WALLS ARE CLOSING IN

THE SMELL MAKES ME REALIZE

IM IN A DUMP TRUCK

MY RAGE CONSUMES ME

RAY KEEPS STEALING MY LUNCH MEAT

ILL KILL THAT KITTEN

I GO TO THE CLUB

IM NOT WEARING ANY PANTS

IM QUICKLY KICKED OUT

WHEN I THINK OF YOU

MY LIMBIC SYSTEM ACTS UP

THAT IS GOOD...TRUST ME

IM IN THE DAYCARE

PEOPLE YELL AND KICK ME OUT

NEXT TIME ILL WEAR PANTS

IM AT GRANDMAS HOUSE

SHES LOOKING AT ME FUNNY

NEXT TIME ILL WEAR PANTS

SHE ASKED ME TO DANCE

I AM SUCH A HEART BREAKER

I TOLD HER "HELL NO"

I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

I WATCH YOUR EVERY MOVE

WHY ARENT WE FRIENDS?

I AM SO TIRED

I HAVE GONE DAYS WITH NO SLEEP

ITS THE CRYSTAL METH

Since When is Time Travel Possible in Your Sleep?

A vague amount of time ago, I went to bed in my dorm as usual. It had been a long day, and I was ready to relax my body and prepare it for the day ahead. You can imagine my surprise when I woke up and discovered that while I had been asleep, I had traveled back 26 years in time. It was like a strange historical fiction had become my real life. All I could do was wait and hope that I could re-awaken in the modern day.

I am still in this strange, dangerous historical-fiction past, but during my stay here I've learned something important: To others, you are only as you seem. Intentions don't matter, feelings don't matter, and thoughts don't matter. If you don't display them, others can't see them. They can only judge you from what they see, or how you "seem." It makes sense, but, as always, there is a small number of people that ruins everything.

It makes sense that people judge you only from what you display, but what if the person judging you can't see or just won't see what you're trying to display to the world?

As real as the presence of Big Brother and his Party are in this strange and dangerous historical-fiction past I find myself in, there is hardly a Brotherhood. The suspected individuals that have shown up in this past have, at the best, frail or almost non-existent connections. But the paranoia that there is a Brotherhood certainly exists. 

Computers and the internet have become the new Telescreens, and Big Brother is always watching. Every day I walk out into the dull, run-down streets of Oceania and see the signs. "BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU." I wonder to myself, "How can someone who is always watching see so little?" And this is where I come to my new conclusion. It is not how I am presenting myself, but it is how I'm being perceived that is the current problem. A problem with no solution.

The world is how you perceive it. I want to convey that there is no Brotherhood, and that we are not planning a revolution. I want to show that The Party and Big Brother are safe from harm. I want The Party to see that I am not interested in taking them down. But all of that is pointless if they can't or won't see it. Until Big Brother and those around him can stop living 26 years in the past, I am stuck here as well. I will continue to be perceived as Emmanuel Goldstein, The Most Dangerous Man in Oceania. And I will eventually be taken to the Ministry of Love to pay for that crime...

Let the Two Minutes Hate begin.

I hate/love blogging

I have figured out why I love and hate blogging at the same time. It's a weird relationship, actually. I like what it does for me, but I hate what it does to me. Kindoflikegirlfriends


Wait, what?

Anyways, the reasons why I love blogging.

1.) I find it really handy to be able to just write about anything that I want in any form that I want.

2.) It's just really nice to have a way to organize my thoughts just once, and whenever I want to review my thoughts on something, all I have to do is just come back and read what I wrote.

3.) I think it helps keep in touch with people.

Even though there are soo many reasons some reasons to love blogging, I also hate it so much. There's really only one reason though: Blogging messes with the way I think.

It's also the reason I don't like updating my Fb status all the time. Ever since I can remember, I've thought in pictures. The first step of my thought process isn't in words; I see pictures first. Once I see it in my head, then I can describe it with words. It's also why I think I have such a hard time talking sometimes. Usually I don't hear what I'm about to say until it actually comes out.

I guess it's having more of a science and math based mind than a literature mind. It helps me with Geometry, Physics, Trig, anything like that really. But when it comes to Lit, it gets uncomfortable. Writing things like blogs, status updates, and anything where I have to think in "I, Me, He" form is the worst. Once I start thinking like that, it's hard to stop. I start thinking in words and it just feels so dramatic. Kind of like I'm a narrator in some over-the-top novel. It's different for creative writing because I'm free to picture things in my head and then describe them, like what I'm used to doing.

So there are my feelings toward blogging. I like it, but it messes with me.

Haikus: Vol. 4

HAIKU TO A GIRL:

I THINK I LIKE YOU

AND NOW BECAUSE OF GOOGLE

I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

RINGWORM ON MY FACE

MY FRIENDS ARE SCARED OF ME NOW

I HAVE A SAD LIFE

SUMMER SKIES ARE BLUE

THE OCEAN IS BLUE AS WELL

SO ARE CHOKING KIDS

MY HEART IS BROKEN

HOW COULD SHE HAVE BEEN SO CRUEL?

SHE CALLED ME A DUNCE

CRUSTY STICKY EYES

ARMPITS SPROUTING FROM ARMPITS

THIS IS MY BODY

SPIDERS IN MY MOUTH

COCKROACHES IN MY STOMACH

THESE ARE THINGS I EAT

INSOMNIACS HAIKU:

I CANT GO TO SLEEP

THOUGHTS OF TERROR IN MY BRAINS

WILL TEN ADVILS HELP?

HAIKU TO MY SON:

YOU THROW LIKE A GIRL

SOMETIMES YOUR VOICE CAN BREAK GLASS

PLEASE HIT PUBERTY

Snakes Rustling in the Grass

It's weird what your mind jumps to when we don't fully understand what's going on. For example, I've noticed that every time I hear rustling in the leaves/grass outside of Hill, my brain automatically thinks "AFRICAN SNAAKE! IT'S A SNAAAKE! OOOH IT'S A SNAAAKE!"

Fortunately, I can calm myself down and think through the situation before my body actually responds. "Hold on a second. Maybe it's a BADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGER...."

I don't actually think that last part, I just wanted to say it...

But my first thought really is that it's a snake waiting for me just off of the sidewalk, although there is no proof that snakes can even live near Hill. The rustling animal is way more likely to be a squirrel, chipmunk, or even a bird. Snake is maybe the least likely possibility in the entire world, but because I have no proof that it's not a snake and that it's never been a snake, my brain continues to panic for just a split second.

Haikus: Vol. 3

A HAIKU FOR LIFEGUARDS:

I SIT IN THE HEAT

KIDS SCREAM FOR HOURS ON END

.

.

.

.

I WISH THEY WOULD DROWN

SO MUCH SAND IN ME

I CRUNCH EVERY TIME I MOVE

I HOPE THATS NORMAL

I WOULD LOVE TO RUN

TO RUN THROUGH FIELDS AND PRAIRIES 

BUT I DONT HAVE LEGS

I SWALLOWED FIVE KNIVES

BUT THEY DIDNT COME BACK UP

NOW I HAVE SLICED GUTS

I GO TO THE PARK

KIDS RUN AWAY TERRIFIED

IS IT MY CHAINSAW?

BEING BORED IS BAD

I MIGHT CATCH THINGS ON FIRE

GIVE ME STUFF TO DO

I WENT TO THE PARK

I SCARED KIDS WITH MY BICEPS

NOW IM BANNED FROM THERE

Nut Scratching, Closed Doors, and a Series of Tough Questions

I was just in the bathroom when I did something that made me think. I scratched my nuts. It wasn't a very thought-provoking action, but as I did so, I looked up and saw that the stall door in front of me was closed. No one could see. It made me ask myself, "Would I have done this if the door was open? Or if I was outside?" The answer is "probably not," and that's the thing that got me thinking.

How do you determine who someone really is?

I'll start on a small scale and try to show you my thought process and how I ended up asking myself this.

Small Scale

In the closed stall where no one was watching, I was a scratcher. But in the outside world, with other people, I am not a scratcher. Which one am I really? Does the fact that I scratched when I knew no one would see make me a scratcher that just acts the part of a non-scratcher in public? Or does my conscious decision to not scratch in public make me a non-scratcher?

Slightly Larger Scale


I'm sure everyone has been asked this question, or at least been exposed to it somehow: What would you do if you were invisible for one day?

I think that this question is deeper than what the words are asking. To me, this question is also asking, "Would you actually act on your impulses once the filter in your brain was removed? In other words, once the pressure of others' rules and expectations are gone, would you still be yourself, or would you be different?" Most people would probably act differently if I had to guess. But that leads to questions similar to the small scale section: If the person chooses to do something that they normally wouldn't do, are they actually a person that had been pretending to be someone else their whole life? If it's something illegal, and they know no one is watching and that they won't be caught, does that make them a criminal at heart? What would it mean, then, that before this chance, they have lead a crime-free life? Does their conscious effort to not do crime make them a truly law abiding citizen or does their temptation to commit a crime make them something else? Are they criminal or not?

Larger Scale


Your brain is surrounded by closed doors, and no one can see inside. You have to either let your thoughts out, or let people in. Otherwise, they are completely secret. This sets up the next step of my thought process.

Lots of thoughts go through my head every day. Here is a quick jot list describing the range of my thoughts:
- Happy
- Sad
- Funny
- Disgusting
- Embarrassing
- Dirty
- Innocent
- Etc.

My point to this is to say that no one knows what I think unless I say it. I know what I think, and I also select what thoughts I want others to hear. I think most thoughts come directly from the subconscious mind, and that you have to consciously organize them in order to mean something. It seems that there is rarely any definite beginning to a thought that you are aware of. Thoughts just pop into your head at seemingly random moments, suggesting that they are from your subconscious mind. The tricky thing about your subconscious mind is that you can't control it (I will write later about what I think the subconscious mind actually is)(ithinkitsbullshit). Controlling it would make it your conscience.

So do the thoughts that go through my head define who I am as a person? The sum of my thoughts is unique to me, so it would make sense to say that. But if that's so, and I have disgusting or dirty thoughts, it would make me a disgusting or dirty person- even though it's out of my control.

So in that case, is it what I choose to dwell on and the thoughts I consciously organize and reveal to the world that defines me as a person?

The Big Question


Is it your conscious or subconscious mind that defines who you are as a person?

I may never know...