Fences

In light of the discussion today, I decided to create my own ending to the Fences. Here is what would have made this play great...

Cory gets so mad at Troy for crushing his chances to earn a scholarship for college that he throws a football directly at Troy's face. The force of the throw of the football breaks his nose causing him to have severe nasal problems for the rest of his life. (Can you say Marsha Marsha Marsha?) After discovering that Troy was Whoring around, Rose skips town for a weekend to take a much deserved vacation. She then returns back to the house and begins to date a significantly younger man (Can you say cougar?) On the day of is "daughter's" birth, Troy finds out that he is not the father of Alberta's baby. (Can you say clusterfu*k?)Gabe eventually makes it big in the fruit selling business and earns millions through street hustling.

Wilson is rolling in his grave... (I'm pretty sure he is deceased),
Samantha

Harlem..

....... or does it explode?

The answer, yes. I thought this was a great line to talk about, considering my attitude the last few weeks. I'm literally going to explode. If one more slob asks me for extra napkins, I'm going to explode. If one more person complains about their appetizer, I'm going to explode. If one more cheap-o leaves a crappy tip, I'm going to explode. I'm so jaded between school and work, and its really getting to me lately. Im having trouble finding any type of balance in my life,  and I feel as if I've taken on too much. I think the problem lately is work. Even though I only work four days a week, I feel as if my job and school literally suck the life out of me ( btw finally saw twilight and its my new goal to A. read all of the books or B. turn into a vampire by the end of this year). When I think about my situation, I get frustrated; I am constantly graded on schoolwork as well as my ability to hold a smile while simultanousley listening to rude people complain about the texture of their french fries. 

I can somewhat relate to Hues in the sense that I feel like my efforts between school and work are getting me nowhere. I am currently a community college student who waitresses to pay her bills and go to school......... I feel like its never going to end..... and Edward Cullen doesn't know I exist :( 

Fin,

Samantha 

Poems.

I wrote this poem to describe my feelings about poetry. 

You are the unidentified source;

The "Deep throat" of the Watergate Scandal.

You have all the answers, 

But are unwilling to tell.

You possess hidden meanings and thoughts 

I have to examen you under a microscope for enlightenment. 

Would it kill you to share a little more, 

Be a little less shy and a little more open? 

You are a great deal on paper,

But not practical in real life. 

Just say what you want to say.

Explain yourself. 

I just don't have enough time in the day 

to fall victim to your mysterious way. 

Take that Emily Dickinson,

Samantha 

Yoga

WOW. I loved the presentation on Tuesday, although I wished we did more yoga poses rather than breathing exercises. The presenter was excellent! I have never seen a sixty-year-old man dance and move the way he did ( actually, I have never seen ANYONE dance like that before). I really wanted to ask him if he could demonstrate the hardest yoga pose known to man, but I felt like he was not wearing the proper clothing to do so. He did not look anything like I thought a yoga (yogie?) would look like, I guess one can't really judge a book by its cover. Who knew that the path to Ecstasy who be sought after through breathing exercises and meditation? If  I knew that breathing like a bee would lead me to inner peace and happiness I would have started eighteen years ago!  

OLM... OLM...,

Samantha 

south

I left class early on tuesday (work sucks!) So I was only present in the discussion for what states are considered southern. Here's what I think, a southern state should be considered southern if and only if
A: They live below New Jersey
B: Yall is used on a regular basis
C: Residents of the state have to walk more than three minutes to get to their mail boxes
D: The state tends to vote republican (vomit)
E: Going to walmart is a form of entertainment
..... By the way I'm blogging from my new blackberry!!!!!!!
Yall come back now,
Samantha

Miss Brill

To be completely honest, I was dreading the class discussion today for the simple reason that the stories that were assigned for homework literally put me to sleep; especially Miss Brill. When I was reading the story, I literally wanted to rip my eyes out of my head because it reminded me of my junior year of high school when I attempted to read the scarlet letter. Maybe I was just tired, but I simply could not get through it. Some parts of the story were unnecessary descriptive, an entire paragraph of adjectives is not required to explain what one object looks like.... YUCK! Plus, I just didn't get it; and that's extremely frustrating. 

As it turns out, I was really glad that we had time to talk about Miss Brill at the end of class (to be honest I was hoping that we wouldn't have time to talk about it today) because one of the final comments made about the children who made fun of her completely hit home, sort of. I have a unique relationship with my crazy family in the sense that all of us make fun of each other. Its second nature , for example, for me to tell my sister that she is adopted. I tell my mom that I love triscuts more than her with the same ease that I have telling someone my name. This "making fun" is never taken seriously of course. The same goes with my best Friends. I get made fun of everything I do.  I can relate to Miss Brill when she goes back to her home and sulks; kind of. Although my friends and I pick on each other, we are never serious.

I could never wear a fox around my neck,

Samantha

Battle Royal..

I liked, uh loved, this story. Don't get me wrong; the way that the white "leaders" of the town treated the members African American community was absolutely disgusting; but despite the obvious racism an oppression that occurred in the town, one line clearly sticks out in my mind. The last line of the story states, "It was a dream I was to remember and dream again for many years after. But at that time I had no insight into its meaning. First I had to attend college." This may seem far fetched, but I can relate to this in a semi-sick and twisted way. When I was a senior in high school, I would have literally done anything and everything to get into ALL of the schools that I applied to. I would have rolled around on the electric rug in order for a scholarship. I would have battled every other high school senior Fight Club style if the prize was an acceptance letter from NYU. I would have literally chewed my own leg off (saw style) to get into certain places. Applying to college was my own battle Royal, an experience that caused me, at times, to doubt myself. These feelings of doubt were sometimes reinforced with rejection but ultimately erased with acceptance and success. 

"The first rule about fight club..........."

Samantha