Family

We all have our own explanation of family and what the term means to us. I could write a novel about mine, one probably worth reading but the thing is, I happen to be quite different from my family. If you were to see me walking to class you would probably never guess that I grew up on a ranch. Just by looking at my sweat pants and sneaks and rocking my hat a little crooked on my head a person may tab me as a “wanna be gansta”, a jock, or just a chic that doesn’t like to dress up. Pick your poison, but you would never know that wrangler jeans are seen in every room at family gatherings, and that Busch Light proudly sponsors the Becker family. Well, they should at least. You wouldn't know that we hug all the time. So much in fact that if someone saw us they would think we haven’t seen each other in years when really, it was probably just yesterday. You wouldn’t know that back home a few of our main uses of transportation happen to be in a saddle or on a four-wheeler.

You wouldn't know these things because at one point in my life I thought I wanted to leave all those entities behind me. I know I am different and although I still enjoy the farm life and all it entails, there has always been something tugging at my heart telling me that cow poop and summer nights down by the creek in front of the stars are not all I’m meant to see. It might seem to some that I have a case of the opposite syndrome. You know, like when straight haired girls want bouncing curls and those curly Q girls would do anything to never use a straightener again.

So for a while I separated myself, and at times still do. But what I have learned through my experiences is that no matter where you come from and how good or bad of family you think you may have, there is a bond that will always be holding you to them. A bond that, no matter how different you may seem, cannot be broken. It is something that is a part of you and it pulls at every feeling inside of your body no matter how much you try to deny it. So for me this means I will always carry the farm life with me wherever I go. If I sit under a streetlight and see but just one star, I will reflect on those nights when I sat under a whole blanket of stars at home without the slightest noise but a cricket chirping close by. And I will smile, because I know, no matter how different I’ve become, or how much things may change in my life, my family is the one thing that is consistent. They will never wear anything but wranglers.

TV at Its Finest

The television. The hours we spend watching other people's lives in that little animated box is amazing isn't it? Studies show that last year the average American spent 153 hours watching the tube each month. After watching the 1970's film, Network, my reaction towards television still stands as is. And that is, too much T.V. makes me feel like a loser. Plain and simple. If I sit and watch the tube for more than a half hour at a time I feel like somehow that little box sucked out part of my brain and I won't ever get it back. I used to be an avid television watcher who had to watch shows on such and such night of the week. But then I began to realize how much I wasn't learning from any of it. Zip, zero, none. If anything, after watching a reality T.V. show, I learn that people out there have a lot more problems than I would ever want to be involved with. And for the most part I learned after watching Greys Anatomy that doctors have affairs and have some unsolvable issues that can never be dealt with.

The sad truth to television though, as was pointed out in the film, is that T.V. networks will do whatever it takes to make a hit on television. These days that just happens to be shows that involve a bunch of people living together for a summer and dressing trashy every weekend to then go get drunk and hopefully get some action. In the process we get to see people punch, spit and kick each other in drunken rage and then go make out in hot tubs. Oh the life, right? Well have you ever wondered what happens to these people after the season is over? I do. Can you imagine a girl from Bad Girls Club going in for a job interview after that? Good luck with that one honey. The thing is, those networks don't care what happens to them as long as they are getting good ratings.

So why do we like to watch stuff like this? Well for one, I think we can't figure out how to humor ourselves anymore. If we aren't sitting in front of a television that has to be our imagination for us, we tab ourselves as bored. For two, we like to make ourselves feel better by watching other people's problems. One thing that really became evident to me while watching this film was that things really don't change a whole lot over time. Sure, we upgrade, but the world around us will always seem bad. The only difference way back when was that they wouldn't reveal any of the so called real world on television so we had shows like "Leave it to Beaver", and I Love Lucy" along with good ol' Archie Bunker. It's not like life back then was hunky dory but television wanted us to think so. Now networks have run out of ideas to entertain us because once they started throwing the "real world" stuff on T.V., Americans just craved more.

So here we are with highly educated half hour shows informing us of the things that are going on out there. You know the shows where people eat bugs and marry strangers for money. They are great, aren't they? I feel so much better about myself after watching things like that. If you can't sense my sarcasm I will tell it to you straight up, I think television programs are going down the pooper. I like to turn it on to watch sports once in a while, or maybe America's Funniest Home videos or "Who's Line" to get a good laugh. Sometimes American Idol because I love music. But other than that, I try not to pick up the remote too much in fear that someday my brain will be gone forever. I would like to think that I have my own imagination, which is in fact why I'm so darn funny.

Anyway, I think television controls us a lot more than we think, which is why I try not to plop myself on the couch too often. I like having control and the thought of someone else controlling how I think because I'm too lame to come up with something else to do, well like I said, it makes me feel like a loser. On the other hand, this may be contradicting somewhat, but I love to go to movies. That's a topic for a whole other blog though.

Music Is Good for You

I have this friend that said to me
“Meg I once was blind but now I see
You have opened my eyes to the music of the world
I used to be a one type of music kind of girl”
But in fact she was and it was plain to see
There she was base bumping to rap and r&b
I had to let her know there was more to life than those beats
So I turned on some tunes that made her say “Sweet”
Yes I saved her from listening to the same ol’ base clef
Because with just base bumping she might have went deaf
Now there is a little acoustic and alternative in her life
And once in a while she throws some country on the side
Oh don’t get me wrong I will for sure jam to some rap
And I will dance to that hip hop and grind on a lap
But the way I see it, in order to appreciate music for what it is
We have to listen to more than what’s trendy in the music biz
Finding those starving artists and the ones not well known
Gives you that comforting feeling that you’re not alone
There are people out there who can do wonders with words
And if we would just listen, these people aren’t nerds
Having a wide range of music is good for you, you see
If you don’t believe me, just ask my friend Kelsey

Listen to This

Alright I know this song is way overplayed and everyone is probably sick of it, or maybe you didn't even like it to begin with. But, my point is, Fireflies sang by this dude, is amazing. I love music and I appreciate when people can do stuff like this. Check it out.

Busy Bees

So I ran across a funny conclusion while I was in California over spring break. Well, actually my friend brought this little idea afire in my ever twirling mind. And that is, the idea of being busy. What is it to be busy? I think all of us definitely have our own definitions of what it means to be running around like busy bees, but how many of us are truly working to make the honey? Because after thinking back on my typical daily routine I must say, although I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, I'm not quite as busy as I thought. Some days yes, I dive head first into those honeycombs and make the best of that sweet nectar. Then there are days when I think I have a whole pot of honey to produce when really if I just sat down and did my thing, it would take a lot less time than I expected and that big pot turns out to be rather small.
The problem is we make those "things to do" turn into enormous tasks instead of just looking at them as they are and so we end up wasting our energy just flapping our wings. We flap frantically telling everyone around us how busy we are, but the honey is just barely dripping out. Sure I procrastinate and so at times I find myself flapping wildly with ten different tasks laying out in front of me. There I continue flapping, staring blankly at all the tasks and not tackling a single one because I'm so "busy". But the problem is I make myself busy. If we would just stop flapping our wings and settle down and do what we know we need to, we wouldn't be so busy. And the honey would be a lot more rewarding.
The solution. Procrastinate? Sure. If you have to do it, then do it. But stop flapping your wings. When you really have something to accomplish, tell yourself to just do it. Because flapping around solutions just makes you busy right? We don't want to be so busy that we can't enjoy life. Lets stop and smell the flowers when we can, but otherwise lets do our thing and sing proudly our theme song. You know that one by Black Eyed Peas "Imma Bee, Imma Bee, Imma, Imma, Imma Bee.

Airplanes are crazy dude

Isn’t flying a crazy thing? As I’m sitting in the airplane over spring break looking down at the tiny little ant like figures slowly creeping their way across the earth I started thinking how ridiculous it is that we can fly from one place to another. Like we actually are just up there floating in the air, crammed in our seats with absolutely no control. There we sit, surrounded by complete strangers traveling at speeds that would probably pull our eyelids off our faces. How strange it is to fly. To sit by a person you have never met, and pretend to be interested in where they are going and what they are doing, as they try just as hard to listen to you as you tell them the same.
How strange it is that we are crammed in a tiny living space for two hours and that we so delicately eat our little bag of peanuts and drink our coke like we have manners or something. When really, everyone on the plane is secretly demanding another bag because those peanuts are just a tease to the ol’ tummy. Oh and you can tell too. Watch your neighbor next time as the flight attendant walks by and asks if they need anything else. They hesitate for just a moment because what they would really like to say is, “I only had ten peanuts in my bag. This was a pathetic attempt at a snack and my belly is screaming for more food. I know you people have better food back there, will you bring some out please? And by the way, you have filled my cup so full of ice there was probably only a tablespoon of coke in here, so can I get a refill?” At least that is what you are thinking, so your neighbor has to be on the same thought process as you. And the flight attendants, do they really enjoy handing out peanuts and coke to people? Can that really be all that fun?
Well, after the peanuts you doze off in the most comfortable way possible, which happens to be leaning your head to the right and using your shoulder as a pillow. Oh the comfort of shoulder pillows. Your butt then starts to tingle off to sleep as well as your eyelids get heavier and heavier. Finally you are napping, next to the stranger you just met, so they are technically no longer a stranger. Then you wake up to your own twitch ten minutes later. In embarrassment you pretend it was the turbulence that woke you up so you start looking out the window only then to find that you had slobbered on your shoulder pillow. Now you’ve realized you were just sleeping with your mouth wide open in front of complete strangers. First impressions are great. Yes flying is a crazy thing. At least when you fly Southwest your bags are free. Happy flying people.

Word Lock

Digits Defined (Column 1)

Each morning I wake up to the sound of a quite bothersome ringtone and as I roll over to press the snooze I glance at the time like I somehow did not expect it to nudge me out of bed just yet. But because of the numbers staring back at me I have to get up and begin my day. Those very numbers determine where I will be and what I will be doing. And as I hit the snooze for the third time I suddenly begin to question numbers and their meaning of existence in my life.
I did some research and found that numbers were first invented around 3000 B.C. So they have been around for quite sometime now. But back then numbers were just a simple guideline to help us through our day. But being the all-powerful humans we are we have made numbers to be a lot bigger than what they have to be. First of all we have turned time into an object. An object that is chained to the movements of society. Because of the number on our clocks we must be at a certain place at a certain time. In time’s case numbers have caused us to hurry our way through life. What is the hurry, when life is short enough as it is?
In our attempts to control numbers we have actually made them the enemy. We have made them the enemy as we step on scales all around the world just hoping the number staring back at us is smaller than our last go at the awful weighing machine. So we have anorexic and bulimic people walking this earth thinking they are not good enough. We have made numbers the enemy as we reach into our pockets only to find that the things we want in life we cannot have because we cannot possess enough money to buy them. We have made them the enemy as students all across the world begin to hate any number in the seventies and their hearts ache if ever they see numbers below those dreaded digits. Because to see a number that low one feels they are tabbed as a failure. A single number can make a person feel like a failure. See what we have done?
Yes I do fall into these categories at times but I try hard not to. I think it is important to have a plan in life but if that plan revolves solely around my clock I would not be as happy. I do not want ticking digits having that much control over me. I also think it is important to stay active and I am concerned about my body, but I will not get caught up stepping on scales or denying myself the pleasure of food because of the number my body carries around each day. That is just me, and that is who I am. I have seen my share of numbers in the seventies since I have been in college and at times even lower. At first I was horrified at the sight of them. Now, I realize they are just numbers. If I can walk away from a class and say I truly enjoyed it then the number that goes with does not matter to me. Most students will remember a small amount from what they learn in college anyway.
In the end numbers are just numbers. Simple guidelines not rules that cannot be broken. Do not let numbers define the person you are. Do not let numbers make your life go any quicker. Let the time tick away and the money roll in but in the end those numbers do not portray you as a person. The person you are is defined on how you handle the numbers that life has given you.

Whats Your Number?

To live: to have life, as an organism; be alive; be capable of vital functions; to continue in existence. This is Webster's definition of what it means to live. But what is our definition of living? What makes us get out of bed every day? Numbers. Yes, numbers are in control of you and I every day. The clock on your wall determines where you will be. The number of paper rectangles and silver coins in your pocket determine what you will eat for dinner and what sort of things you can buy. And go figure a GPA is a big fat number as well. We pull out our phones every day and scroll through our numbers and text numerous people a number of times. When we turn sixteen we buy a car and as we press the pedal down we look at the number on our speedometer with a grin as if it it somehow gives us a power we've been missing out on. When we turn twenty one we find out the number of shots our bellies can handle before we find ourselves hanging over a toilet somewhere. Numbers after thirty are always wished to be smaller and especially if you haven't found your number one. Yes numbers control how we live our lives.
This sounds to me like we live like puppets on strings. Who says it has to be this way? Why should a number on your test determine the person you are. So what you received an 8 out 15 on your last blog. Why should the number in your bank account determine where you go in life? You can do whatever you wish. Why should the number on your clock determine where you should be? Clocks do not come with chains and leashes. You see the problem is we have built these ideas about numbers that people go along with without every questioning.
I happen to be a reader. I love to read and one book that I just can't get tired of is that big fat book called the bible. In all the stories I've read in this book I've never read anything about how having a good GPA will get you far in life. Or how you are better off in life if you possess more bills in your pocket than your neighbor. Now it would be hypocritical of me to say that I don't worry about these things and that I live strictly by what I read. But after our speaker today in class, it just got me thinking why do we get so worked up over the numbers in our life when only one number should matter? The number one. Ya, because there is only one guy that is responsible for our existence in the first place.
Numbers. There is nothing about a number in the definition of life. Let us experience life as life was meant to be. Let us live by happiness. Let us not just exist as a number in this world.

You Blockhead

Block. Now there are several meanings to the word block. Thinking as a child would we can look at a block as those little square objects with the ABC's and 123's printed on the sides. Oh weren't those the days when you were entertained by little blocks that you could stack up into a tall glorious tower. And just when you put the finishing block on top, here comes little brother to wreck your beloved masterpiece.
Now we also have a block when we look at the sports world too. Volleyball players spend many hours just perfecting the word block. There is a special way to do it I suppose. And in basketball one of the greatest feelings in the world is to block someone else's shot just as it leaves their hand. Afterwards you so subtly stare that person down giving them the "Ya, that just happened" look. And of course there are blocks in football, soccer, and hockey as well.
But enough in the sports world, we also have sunblock. Yes, this special block is to protect your skin from the UV rays and all that nasty sun cancer business. Although most people my age will say they don't really block any of the sort as they sit in tanning beds thinking oh it won't happen to me. Yes, I'm guilty of not applying this block in my life too.
More blocks, yes there are more. Well it just so happens that I live on a block as well. Wow can you believe it? All these little squares that make up a city are called blocks too. And we use phrases such as "Oh it's just down the block", or "She's been around the block" like common sayings.
All these blocks however are not the kind of blocks I'm thinking of. The kind of block I'm thinking of is writer's block. You see, I cannot for the life of me think of anything to write about. I'm suffering writer's block at its worst. It's awful, it really is. I love to write and I can't even think of a topic to get artistic with. Oh well I guess. Maybe tomorrow I will think of something to write about. But until then maybe I'll go to Blockbuster and rent a movie to get my mind flowing with some creative juices.

Cutting Saturday Mail

How would you feel if I told you that Saturdays are no longer days to send or recieve mail? Angered and annoyed are a couple words that come to mind maybe. Well it turns out that post offices around America want to cut Saturday mail to try and help us get out of debt as a nation. Well thanks post office people for your generosity but why do you feel that its your responsibility to get us out of debt? I mean come on think of the head aches you would cause people if we couldn't have our Saturday mail. What about the people that work all week? Maybe Saturday is mail day. It should not be on the US postal service to try and make cuts to get back the money we lost. They had nothing to do with why we are so far in debt in the first place. If we are making cuts like this what else will we start cutting to save money?
It all seems rather silly when we have famous people running around getting paid for looking good while we are making cuts on how many days we can recieve mail out of the week. Or maybe the postmen and women out there have finally had it. They are tired of working six days a week. They need a weekend too, where they can kick back and enjoy a beer like everyone else in the world. Either way this idea is pretty awful. Because in the end it just means we can't procrastinate as long when it is time to pay our bills that are due for the month.