Three friends and I were hanging in a minivan (hip, huh?) waiting for our mothers to stop chatting and come out of the restaurant. Just hanging, listening to music, normal stuff. Suddenly on of my friends glanced out of the window and said, "Hey, Mister, I want your car!"
A red, sleek, brand-new looking car had pulled up next to us. A man stepped out of the vehicle. As all of us ogled from behind the tinted glass, an idea came into my head. As usual, I didn't stop to consider any possible consequences. I just took my idea and ran with it.
I swung the van door open, and without looking anywhere in particular, I yelled out, "I like your car!" Then, still using the momentum from throwing the door open, I shut it with a loud bang.
Behind me, everyone was laughing so hard tears were forming in the corner of their eyes. The adrenaline of that simple moment cleared my head and made me grin from ear to ear. I turned back to see how the man had reacted. He just laughed and walked into the restaurant.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Chronicling Crohn's
Every time the clock reads 11:11, every time I blow on a dandylion, every single fallen eyelash, I pause. Different, impossible, wonderful wishes run through my head: to be as tall as a mountain, to run faster that a cheetah, to be the richest person ever. But then I think of what I really wish for, and the smile drops off of my face. For Dad not to be sick. For Crohn's to not even exist.
Even after the seeds of the dandylion disappear and the clock changes once again, I am still thinking. Still thinking of what it would be like to not be in a constant state of worry, for Dad to stand up tall and smile every single day.
Over my life, I have had many unique experiances involving my Dad and his Crohn's disease. What better way to share such stories than to blog about them? These posts will be tagged "chronicling crohn's".
First, you probably want an overview of Crohn's disease. From what I know, it's when a part of the intestines is inflammed. It hurts my dad to eat food and have it pass through the diseased part. He also has what he calls "attacks", which is when he has diseased bowel movements. He can have as many as 20 attacks a day. He also sometimes vomits when the food won't pass through.
So now you have some basic info. Keep an eye out for some Chronicling Crohn's blog posts coming your way soon.
Even after the seeds of the dandylion disappear and the clock changes once again, I am still thinking. Still thinking of what it would be like to not be in a constant state of worry, for Dad to stand up tall and smile every single day.
Over my life, I have had many unique experiances involving my Dad and his Crohn's disease. What better way to share such stories than to blog about them? These posts will be tagged "chronicling crohn's".
First, you probably want an overview of Crohn's disease. From what I know, it's when a part of the intestines is inflammed. It hurts my dad to eat food and have it pass through the diseased part. He also has what he calls "attacks", which is when he has diseased bowel movements. He can have as many as 20 attacks a day. He also sometimes vomits when the food won't pass through.
So now you have some basic info. Keep an eye out for some Chronicling Crohn's blog posts coming your way soon.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Blogging About Small Towns
With every place that a person can live, there are advantages and disadvantages of all kinds. And so it is with a small town in a valley nestled into the Rockie Mountains. I can't give an accurate number on the population of my town, but our high school is host to a record-low of 180 students. Hopefully that will give you an idea of just how small my town it.
Pros:
-You know everyone and everyone knows you. There is no need to worry about name-misspellings and the like. Everyone waves as they pass in cars.
-If you want to do a sport or club, you can, regardless of your skill-level. There aren't enough people trying out to be cut.
-Beautiful landscape is everywhere. We are surrounded by mountains on all sides. My house is within walking distance of the bottom of the mountains to the east. Currantly, a thick blanket of clouds is obscuring the top of the mountains. It truely is breath-taking. My house is on a piece of land about an acre big, surrounded by fields on all sides. We have so many trees. Our backyard is like a fictional fairytale land.
Cons:
-Want to order pizza or takeout? Get the sudden urge to go to a movie? Love to go shopping at the mall? Ha! Too bad! These, and many other things, are not availble to us small-towners. You have to drive half an hour, an hour, even as much as three hours to get to something you want or need.
-Everybody knows everything about you. Seriously. No joke
-It is so quiet. Our nearest neighbor is about a mile away. It kind of creeps me out.
-It is my perspective that people in my small town tend to be racist, judgmental, and ignorant. We are in a sheltered bubble, and they don't realize that other people have opinions and you cannot say certain things, because they might offend other people.
Really, though, a small, rural town isn't too bad to live in. I am more of a city person myself, but to each their own.
Pros:
-You know everyone and everyone knows you. There is no need to worry about name-misspellings and the like. Everyone waves as they pass in cars.
-If you want to do a sport or club, you can, regardless of your skill-level. There aren't enough people trying out to be cut.
-Beautiful landscape is everywhere. We are surrounded by mountains on all sides. My house is within walking distance of the bottom of the mountains to the east. Currantly, a thick blanket of clouds is obscuring the top of the mountains. It truely is breath-taking. My house is on a piece of land about an acre big, surrounded by fields on all sides. We have so many trees. Our backyard is like a fictional fairytale land.
Cons:
-Want to order pizza or takeout? Get the sudden urge to go to a movie? Love to go shopping at the mall? Ha! Too bad! These, and many other things, are not availble to us small-towners. You have to drive half an hour, an hour, even as much as three hours to get to something you want or need.
-Everybody knows everything about you. Seriously. No joke
-It is so quiet. Our nearest neighbor is about a mile away. It kind of creeps me out.
-It is my perspective that people in my small town tend to be racist, judgmental, and ignorant. We are in a sheltered bubble, and they don't realize that other people have opinions and you cannot say certain things, because they might offend other people.
Really, though, a small, rural town isn't too bad to live in. I am more of a city person myself, but to each their own.
Other Online Writing
You can see my other stories, articles, and poems at this link: http://j.whyville.net/smmk/whytimes/searchParse?title=&author=singel12&phrase=&start_position=0&month=&day=&year=&topic=0&submit=GO
It's for an online newspaper for an online community for teens and kids, and it is really a great site.
It's for an online newspaper for an online community for teens and kids, and it is really a great site.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Midnight Scare
It was a few days before school started, and I was happily sleeping away the hours, not worrying about a thing. My door was open a crack, and my subconscience struggled to wake me up, for I heard noises from the living room. My eyelashes fluttered as I focused on the small amount of light seeping into my room. I hear, "Please...Please, come pick us up...we are at [my home address]..."
Instantly, my brain was put into full panic mode as I sat up in my bed. One thought was coarsing through my head right as my feet landed on the floor and I started running: Dad, it's Dad.
Pause right there. To understand this bit, you have to know something. My dad has Crohn's disease, and there have been a few times in the past where we had to rush him to the hospital when he was in a bad condition. That is what was running through my mind. Okay, go.
I ran, trying to stay silent, into the living room, where I skidded to a halt. Two strangers were standing in my living room. I blinked my sleepy eyes, thinking that it might be a family member I do know, but I didn't recognize them. I could only stand there, stunned.
One was wrapping up a conversation on the phone, obviously having called a friend for help. She limped to a folding chair that was set out. They were both trembling.
Finally comeing out of my shocked state to look around, I glanced out the window, and there my Dad was, yelling at the dog to quite barking. I went weak with relief.
Awake enough now to be self conscience, I looked down at my pajamas. My hair was unruly, I was barefoot, and I was staring at these poor people, who I learned later had gotten into a car crash.
My dad came into the house and said to the shaken ladies, "The dog is free!" They chuckled weakly.
Dad came over to me, muttering, "Shelby, it's okay, go back to bed." I threw my arms around him and hugged him as tight as I could.
Instantly, my brain was put into full panic mode as I sat up in my bed. One thought was coarsing through my head right as my feet landed on the floor and I started running: Dad, it's Dad.
Pause right there. To understand this bit, you have to know something. My dad has Crohn's disease, and there have been a few times in the past where we had to rush him to the hospital when he was in a bad condition. That is what was running through my mind. Okay, go.
I ran, trying to stay silent, into the living room, where I skidded to a halt. Two strangers were standing in my living room. I blinked my sleepy eyes, thinking that it might be a family member I do know, but I didn't recognize them. I could only stand there, stunned.
One was wrapping up a conversation on the phone, obviously having called a friend for help. She limped to a folding chair that was set out. They were both trembling.
Finally comeing out of my shocked state to look around, I glanced out the window, and there my Dad was, yelling at the dog to quite barking. I went weak with relief.
Awake enough now to be self conscience, I looked down at my pajamas. My hair was unruly, I was barefoot, and I was staring at these poor people, who I learned later had gotten into a car crash.
My dad came into the house and said to the shaken ladies, "The dog is free!" They chuckled weakly.
Dad came over to me, muttering, "Shelby, it's okay, go back to bed." I threw my arms around him and hugged him as tight as I could.
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