Theme week sixteen

Me as a writer option #4

I loved this course but I was not really prepared to just think of things and go with it. I never knew what a vingette was or even a juxtaposition. I have learned many things this semester about myself and my writing. In fact I am taking another creative writing course next semester. I never liked english or writing in high school. I started college and had to take a intro to writing course where I learned the five paragraph essays and parallelism. Then I went on to eng 101 and loved every minute of it. I pulled out a 98 in 101 and was extremely interested in writing and english from that point on. I would love to major in english and teach writing some day but I dont know if I am really teacher material. I enjoy coming up with things off the top of my head. I am a bit more "creative" if it doesnt have to be non-fiction writing but then again arent we all. I have enjoyed this course but I think I would have enjoyed working with John Goldfine on more of a face to face basis. I like the fact that John sees the humor in some of my writing yet can see the seriousness and the tears coming out when I write about my best friend Mickey and his death. This has been a great experience but I am sad to say that i am glad it is finally over. Back to my kids for the next couple of months... YEAH!

Theme week fifteen

Made from A Series of Carol Burnett Quotes

Only I can change my life.
No one can do it for me.
When you have a dream
you've got to grab it and never let go.

I have always grown from my problems and challenges,
from the things that don't work out,
that's when I've really learned.

Adolescence is just one big walking pimple.
Comedy is tragedy plus time.
I liked myself better when I wasn't me.

Giving birth is like taking your lower lip and forcing it over your head.
I don't have false teeth.
Do you think I'd buy teeth like these?

People invite me to dinner not because I cook,
but because I like to clean up.
I get immediate gratification from Windex.
Yes, I do windows

Theme Week Fourteen

On a typical day I got ready to go to class. As I left the house with my three year old in my arms, I said goodbye to my fiancee who was taking the day off to sleep in and help his grandfather with some last minute yard work. I dropped my son off at daycare and headed the forty five minutes to class. After my first class I had over five hours to wait until my next class. I thought it would be a great idea to place my completed homeowrk in my instructors mailbox and head home to surprise my future husband with some time alone together. When I got home I opened the door quietly hoping that I could just crawl in bed with him and wrap my arms around him. I walked into the house and stood outside our bedroom door. I heard a woman in a pleasurable state and immediately got pissed. I waited a second wondering what I was going to do and how I was going to control my physical reaction. Then I swung the door opened and saw my fiancee jump and cover himself with a blanket. His eyes bugged out of his head as he said a few choice words. I then noticed that the woman did not stop moaning. To my joyful surprise I noticed that a pornography movie was playing on our tv. I couldnt help but start laughing as I walked out of the room saying "I will let you finish!"

Theme Week Thirteen

At the far edge of the blueberry field sat a large yellow house. The house was built just last year and is quite the beautiful site to see. It gives an onlooker driving by the breath taking views everyone wishes they had in a home. It starts at the bottom with a day light basement and right above is a porch that wraps around the entire main floor. Which is where people are seen enjoying the day on the large patio. From the back side of the deck I see windows going up the entire house, allowing all the morning sun to shine in and give the good morning mood. On the second level is a balcony coming out the center of the second floor. It contains enormous flower boxes with ivy and some sort of drooping pink and blue flowers. The flowers are a symbol of how much the owners care about appearances. From a distance the house looks like a modern day castle in yellow. Up close it is a dream house for any family to live in.

Theme Week Twelve

In April of 1997 I joined the Maine Army National Guard to become a medical specialist. On June nineteenth 1997 I left for basic training at FT. Jackson, South Carolina. I expected to learn about marching, physical training, and basic rifle techniques. I never expected to be told how to wear my clothes, or that I would pretty much live in two types of uniforms for three months. One of the uniforms that I wore on a daily basis was my Battle Dress Uniform. I take these three steps to prepare my battle dress uniform. The first step I take is to prepare my uniform. I start by gathering all the things I need to press. I will need my BDU (Battle Dress Uniform) jacket, trousers, brown shirt, and one large can of Niagra spray on starch. Pressing my uniform correctly and with proper creases that will last through an entire training day requires major amounts of starch. I first place my BDU jacket on a metal hanger. I then spray the starch all over the jacket, spraying extra on the collar, pockets, and sleeves. Once the jacket is soaked with starch I place it in another area to dry a bit but not completely. I then soak my trousers with starch in the same way I do the jacket. While the jacket and trousers dry a bit, I iron my brown t-shirt and make sure there are no wrinkles. I iron the t-shirt first due to the fact that I don’t need to starch it. I have two separate irons that I use, the first one is for things without starch and the second one is for the things being ironed with starch. I have learned that if I mix the irons up I end up with starch marks on my khaki dress pants and no creases in my uniforms. Once the jacket is close to dry I iron along the sleeves to create a crease along the outside edge of the sleeve. I add more starch throughout if needed. I then move to the back of the jacket which is the easiest part to iron. Then I iron the pockets. I have to use high heat and a lot of pressure to make sure that my pocket tops are not going to flop up half way through training. I save the collar for last because it has to be perfectly creased. My lapel edges must be exactly two inches to the side of the top of my jacket. Next I go onto ironing my BDU trousers. The trousers are not as difficult as the jacket. I first make the crease down the front of each leg. I then move to the pockets and repeat the same technique as I used on the jacket pockets. Second I move onto my boots, I get my black Kiwi polish, one small cup of water, my buffing rag and brush, my combat boots and one lighter. I first set the Kiwi polish on fire to bring it to a liquid state. I soak my buffing brush in the liquid polish quickly before it dries and gets hard. I lather thick layers onto my right combat boot. I then take the lighter and light the thick layer of wax that is on the boot. This allows the polish to get into the pores in the boot. After about three seconds I blow out the flame on the boot. If I don’t blow it out quick enough the flame will burn the leather and I will have to repeat the process several times before I get the boot to a point where I can achieve a perfect shine. After I blow out the flame I then take my buffing rag and wet a corner with the water. I then place my pointer finger in the wet corner of the rag and make tiny circular motions on the polished part of the boot. I make sure not to put to much pressure because it will only take off the polish that I have already applied. After about fifteen minutes of buffing I then place another thin layer of kiwi polish on the boot and repeat the buffing process adding water to the rag when it seems to get dry. I take approximately thirty minutes on each boot and once the kiwi is absorbed into the boot it gives a shine that allows the boot give off a mirror effect. This is actually done for the use of a mirror in a battle scene. Men have used their boots as a mirror to shave as well as in battle to possibly see an enemy from behind or in the air. The third step I take in preparing my uniform is the placement of rank, unit badges, American flag, and name tapes. I first place my rank on each lapel on my BDU jacket. Rank must be placed exactly one inch from the corner of the lapel and exactly centered from each side. This allows another soldier to see the rank, identify the rank and salute if needed. Once my rank is placed I go on to placing my unit badge on. The unit badge has to be exactly two inches from the right shoulder seem on my BDU jacket. The unit badge allows another soldier or superior officer to know where you are from and what unit you belong to. This also allows officers to know where to go if a soldier has broken a rule or disobeyed a direct order. The America flag is placed in the exact same spot on the left shoulder of my BDU jacket. When I first joined the army the American flag was not worn unless the soldier was deployed during war time. In 2004 the American flag became a part of the battle dress uniform worn by any member of the army. Next I place on my name tapes. The first name tape goes above the left breast pocket. This name tape is the one that says “U.S. ARMY” and is placed on the left side to be over my heart. The second name tape is placed above the right breast pocket. This name tape says “DRISKO” on it to display my last name and what I am called in the Army. The rank and name tape combined tells other soldiers that the proper name to call me is Specialist Drisko. I wear my uniform with pride and take pride in preparing my battle dress uniform. If one crease is not perfect or one measurement is off centered, I redo it to make sure that my uniform makes a good statement about the kind of soldier I am. I have been in interviews for awards and soldier of the year contests and won due to the fact that the soldier I was running against did not take the pride in his uniform that I do. I apply the same pride to my daily life.

Theme week eleven

The ten year old boy worked really hard while sobbing about being in trouble. He didn't feel like he should be in trouble for doing something to protect himself.

Joshua was sitting in the truck minding his own business and trying to block out his brother Sam's annoying screams and noises. After about ten minutes of trying his best to block him out he finally said "Sam please leave me alone and be quiet." Sam didn't listen to his big brother as he usually didn't anyway. Then Sam realized that his big brother had the book he wanted. He tried to grabbed the book from Joshua's hand, but Joshua wouldn't let go. Sam decided that if he bit his brothers arm hard enough then Joshua would let go of the book and he could have it. But Joshua didn't let go of the book he instead took his other hand and smacked his two year old bother across the face leaving a large red hand print on his cheek. Joshua's step father put Sam in the naughty chair and told him about not biting. He then took Joshua outside to the land that was being cleared. He said to Joshua that "you have the right to defend yourself... However you never have the right to use all your force on a child that is much smaller than you. You never have the right to hit your brother in the face. You do have the choice to move away, tell an adult, or defend yourself with the right amount of force. Now you will go and work on cutting crush and carrying it to the fire pit to be burned, and if you work hard enough today then that will be your only punishment for your actions."

Joshua was sweating as he brought each limb that had been cut to the fire pit. With small breaks for water and snacks, Joshua worked for five hours straight. And without being prompted he went to his brother and gave Sam a hug and said "I'm sorry I hit you but please do not bite me again, and if you want something I have then just ask nicely. I will share with you."

Week Nine

When I look around the room the first thing I notice is the small piles of toys all over the black and white checker tiled floor. I sometimes think that my kids are setting small landmines as a trap for their father and possibly myself. My advice to anyone that might enter is to step softly or take the chance of an explosion. The saying “its all fun and games until someone loses and eye” was made up for this exact reason. To the left of the couch is the very messy closet. It holds all the odds and ends that I might never need to use. The top of the closet is the only organized area in the entire room. It holds all of the fifty three board games that my oldest son Joshua and I play on a daily basis. Battleship seems to be his favorite at the moment. I think it is because of the cool packaging that the game came in. It is the limited edition of battleship and it came in collectors tin. The tin has an aircraft carrier on the top that reminds Joshua of the tour we took on a navy ship out in Coronado California. He can change his mind about which game is his favorite at least twelve times a month To the left of the bookshelf is the kid’s toy box that can be hazardous to my health so I will keep my distance. The toy box would be compared to a pot of water boiling over. There is Pokemon cards falling out onto the floor in front of the toy box. Then if I look on the right side of the toy box I see My son Samuall’s stuffed animals looking at me, they are caught between the lid and the toy box itself. I think they might be trying to commit suicide just to get out. If I follow the room around to the left I come to a white bookshelf that is three tiers high and full of easy read books. The books are organized by the level of reading, from level one to level eighteen. I bought a lot of these books at flea markets, one of which I bought nine years ago, when I was pregnant with my oldest son. Another book is a Dick and Jane book that I purchased just last year for my son to start school with. Next to the largest of all the land mines is a huge, beautiful, blue, fake velvet couch that was given to me years ago. So I guess I’ll take a break and have a seat. Oh my goodness, this feels so good. As soon as I sat down I felt like the couch had taken full control of my body. I sink in like I'm in quick sand; my body is forced to completely relax in the cushions. On the left side of the couch is a black lever. So of course I pull it gently. Up go my feet like a karate expert doing a high kick. Oh how I love to recline on this couch, although it is a bit of a hassle to get the recliner in the up positions without being launched into the other room. The other downside to the recliner is that if it gets left in the up position, my youngest son Samuall will crawl under the couch. Yes I know it’s funny, but not funny when I’m the one that has to crawl under to pull him out. He bites! So Welcome Please have a seat and make yourself at home.

Theme Week Eight

A life within the Army is a life that is exciting and full of so many new experiences. I started out in the Army as a eighteen year old high school senior. I went to Basic training in the summer of 97 and experienced so many things that I never knew existed. I met people from many different cultures and backgrounds. The summer of 97 daily routine consisted of four am wake up calls with Drill Sargent's yelling in my face. Then it went to the physical training for at least two hours. The rest of the day was taken up by weapons training, road marches, and drill and ceremony marching. In the evening we spent our time shining shoes, pressing uniforms, and yes more physical training. By the time we actually hit the pillow it was ten pm at the earliest. Then we had to look forward to the next day of doing it all over again. For over three months this went on with the only rest day being Sunday if we chose to go to church that is. I chose to go to three services on Sunday. One for the Baptist service, one for the Baptist service in Spanish, and one for the Catholic or "nap service." Day after day I was beat down just to be built back up. And I thought that when it was over I would have some huge ceremony that would make me put my nose in the air and think that I was better then everyone else. I was wrong! The ceremony consisted of Drill and Ceremony marching and then we got a piece of paper and went home with our families. I went home to my senior year in high school and that was when I got my gratification... My nose was in the air and I was better than everyone else. I had this new body and new look on the world. I had accomplished something that most of the people I went to school with would never have made it through. This was huge for me to have on my side. That is why I feel I went from small (basic training) to big (snobby high school kid).

Theme Week Seven

No matter where I have traveled or where I have visited I have heard the term “redneck.” In the dictionary “redneck” is a despairing term for a member of the white rural laboring class, in the southern states. Living in Maine my entire life I have learned that a redneck is not just found in the southern states. I have found that at least a third of the human population in Maine is “rednecks.” I am of course being modest about the state I grew up in: Maine may actually be two thirds human population of rednecks. I have learned that there are three factors when determining if someone from Maine is a redneck.
First of all I can pick a redneck out of a crowd by listening to how he talks or the terms he may use in conversation. For some reason a Maine redneck forgets to pronounce the er, ar, and or at the end of some common words. Instead a Maine redneck will replace the ending of a word with ah or just add ah onto the end of a word. For instance the word car usually sounds like cah and the word yes usually comes out to sound like yesah. My father uses the term yesah on a daily basis in place of the word yes. A Maine redneck also has a different kind of accent. This accent is sometimes referred to as the Downeast accent. The Downeast accent from a Maine redneck is used by lengthening the vowel sounds of a word. Such words as camp may sound like caaamp. My uncle uses the word alright and it sounds like iight. The last way I can pick out a Maine redneck is by listening to some of the words he uses and the content the word is used for. I will never hear my father say that he was driving fast, instead I will hear him say that he was “boookin it”. My Uncle Steve always uses the term um yup, but it sounds like iiuut. The word wicked is used to describe almost anything in Maine. A younger Maine redneck may use it like “wicked cool” where as an older Maine redneck may use it like “Wicked nice.” In basic training I was picked on by many drill sergeants about the over use of the word wicked. When I had my first child my grandfather’s first statement was “he’s wicked cunnin.” My grandmother’s first statement was “he’s wicked smaaaht.”
Second of all Not only does a Maine redneck have a unique way of speaking but he also has a unique way of living. Anyone who has driven through Maine can agree that a Maine redneck is not the most elegant decorator. I usually see at least one broken down car in the yard of a Maine redneck. Even though the car has not run in five years, it still sits in the yard waiting to be fixed. Sometimes the car is also used as a stand for holiday decorations or even parts from another car. The holiday decorations are up all year round and a redneck will have Christmas lights on in the middle of June. I will see the dog staked out in the middle of the lawn. The dog, usually a beagle or another kind of hunting dog, has made a complete circle in the brownish grass from testing the boundaries of his chain. A Maine redneck never seems to finish what they start. A large majority of Maine rednecks homes are only half done. The siding is only on three sides of the house, usually leaving just the tar paper visible. This is where I believe the term “tar paper shack” comes from. The porch never got railings added; instead there are boxes and junk all over the porch creating just a path to the front door. The windows are missing the trim so I can see all the insulation around the edges of the window. The insulation is usually covered in the blackish colored mold that would make any normal person sick for weeks. The mold has built up so much that if anyone ever wanted to finish the trim around the windows they would have to reinstall a brand new window. The last thing I have seen at a Maine rednecks home is that in the summer the grass can sometimes get to be two feet high before it gets mowed. My dad always says he let the grass get so high to hide the broken down car he forgot to fix. The grass also hides the many lawn ornaments. The lawn ornaments have been out so long they are faded to the point that I can’t tell what they are anymore. My grandmother has the black bear ornament that looks like it is climbing the tree. Although after about thirteen years the bear has become a disgustingly brownish gray and has some sort of moss growing all over it. My grandmother also has a wooden light house that my grandfather painted to match the color of the house they live in. The light house was put on the lawn in the 1970’s and is only pieces of rotted wood that now forms the shape of a volcano rather than a lighthouse.
Last of all a Maine redneck is not only noticed by his decorating but also by the clothing that he wears. First I can spot a Maine redneck at any time of the year wearing nothing but hunting camouflage. I was once told that there is a huge difference between regular camouflage and hunting camouflage. During hunting season a Maine redneck wears the hunting camouflage but it usually has some blood on it from his last kill. He will always be wearing a hat, and if it is not camouflage it has either a beer logo or a NASCAR logo on it. He won’t cut his hair in the winter because it keeps his head warm while he is out hunting. A Maine redneck will wear a brand new pair of Carhardt trousers that he got from Christmas a few weeks earlier. But for some reason the trousers will never completely cover his ass. He will bend over to pick something up and show the world what his hairy ass looks like. I usually refer to this as plumbers crack. In my house it is also referred to as the Soper crack because my fiancé and all the men in is family show their ass on a daily basis. By the third wear of those same pair of trousers, there is grease stains down the front of them, usually a hole in the seem on the rear, and the bottom of the pant legs are all worn off form scuffing them across the ground when he walks. A Maine redneck will wear a pair of work clothes for at least three days before he throws them in the dirty laundry hamper. As far as shirts go, a Maine redneck has only three types of shirts in his closet. The t-shirt, that is worn out, which contains NASCAR, beer, or hunting logos on it. These shirts make the best night shirts for the rednecks significant other. The button up shirt that is for dressing nice, but it is always camouflage. And the ripped up work flannel that is plaid and has been passed down through generations of redneck men. My fiancé has three of the generation shirts that I tried to throw away until my life was threatened. It seems a Maine rednecks shirt is almost as important as the size of the deer he shoots each hunting season.
I personally live with a Maine redneck and I am raising a Maine redneck in training. To me a Maine wouldn’t be the wonderful place it is if we didn’t have the Maine rednecks. I think even tourists visit just to see Bah Hahbah and its Maine rednecks. So the next time you need to determine whether someone is a Maine redneck just remember the three major factors I have discussed. The speech and vocabulary, the way of living and decorating, and the choice of clothing and wearing of clothing.

Theme week Six

When I was growing up in Bucksport Maine my family lived next door to what we called the Woodman Estate. Oh what a sight the Woodman Estate was. It was a place that really made an awful statement and I would never have gone there if not for my best friend Betty. There were three main sections to the woodman Estate, the huge garage, the very unique house, and the jungle backyard.
The woodman Estate had a very large tar papered shack that doubled as a garage. It sat about ten feet from route forty six. Within that ten feet was a mildewed, moldy, rotting canvas fence that was held up by logs that had been cut down when the Woodman’s were clearing the land for the backyard. All around the perimeter of the large structure were rusty, old junk cars. Approximately twenty five cars were around the garage, most of which were Chevrolet. There were hundreds of tires strategically placed around the cars. One of the tire towers looked like it could have been infinite in height. There were piles of what I can only assume were old broken car parts. At one time I could have sworn that I saw a human arm sticking out of one of the piles. I never really did find out what it was and I was too scared to ask anyone about it. Inside the garage I would always find Mr. Woodman and his friends. I’m not sure if he ever actually left the garage. Mr. Woodman was a scary sight to say the least. Grease from head to toe, only about two teeth (I never got close enough to count), and hair that had not been brushed in at least thirty years. He always had a couple of friends in the garage tinkering on things with him. I would watch people go into the garage looking half way decent and come out looking like Mr. Woodman’s twin.
The house wasn’t much different from the garage, except that the other three members of the family (Mrs. Woodman, Travis Woodman, and Betty Lou Woodman) lived inside. The house looked exactly like the garage on the outside. My father always told me that the Woodman’s were keeping with a theme. As I would make my way up the through the path of junk on the front deck to the door, I felt like I was being watched. Then when I turned around I would see the twelve hunting Beagles in the large, hand built kennel on the left side of the deck. The smell of dog shit would make me gag, and the sight of the dirty, nasty dogs made me sad. The dogs were covered in their own feces that had dried to their fur and caused it to look like they had chunks of hair missing. The dogs were well fed and when it was extremely cold out, the Woodman’s would place the dogs in the heated barn that use to be used for their three horses. I would knock on the door and almost immediately a raspy deep voice would yell “Come in God damn it.” The scary part was that the raspy, deep voice came from Mrs. Woodman. The only thing Mrs. Woodman would do is sit at the table smoking one cigarette after another, and stare out the window. The kitchen table held all the old mail from the past year or so and anything Mrs. Woodman had forgotten to throw in the trash can that was only three feet to the left of the table. I never even saw her get up to go to the bathroom. I never stayed inside long enough to find out. She would always tell me that I didn’t have to knock and to just come in, but I was to scared at what I might find if I didn’t knock. As I walked into the kitchen I would see dirty dishes piled up in the sink that had a garden hose for a faucet. The stove that they used for cooking was actually their woodstove they used as a heater. To my immediate left was the kitchen table where Mrs. Woodman sat with a lit cigarette in one hand and the rest of the carton on the table in front of her. I would walk through the kitchen to the living room where I would usually find Travis Woodman. Travis was a very nice boy that was about a year older than me. I’m embarrassed to admit it now (knowing how he turned out), but I had a bit of a crush on him as a child. As I walked through the living room I would see piles of dirty laundry in the right corner of the room. There was an old brown rug that got vacuumed about once a month. In the center of the rug was a grease stain from when Travis was trying to rebuild an engine in the living room. Next I would go through the second door on the right, into Betty Lou Woodman’s bedroom. I always made sure not to take the first door on the right. The first door led to what they called the bathroom. The bathroom contained the litter box for their twenty plus cats. I don’t think it had ever been changed since it was overflowing with cat shit and stunk so bad that they had to keep the door closed and add a pet door to try to contain some of the odor. Betty is the only reason I ever attempted to enter the house. Betty’s room was not at all like the rest of her house. Her clothes were always clean and folded neatly in her drawers. Her posters on her bedroom wall were always straight, and any picture frames she had were dusted daily. She made her bed as soon as she got up every morning and placed her stuffed animals in the same place on her bed everyday. I use to tell her that someday she would have the biggest beautiful house in the town. Boy was I wrong, she is actually now living in that same house that she was raised in. She did however clean up the yard, plant some grass for a lawn, and put siding on the house. From the back sliding glass door of the house, Betty and I would walk out into the back yard. We called the back yard a jungle. The jungle consisted of more junk cars, trees that had been cut down and left where they had fallen and a home made ropes course that looked like a monkey habitat at the zoo. It was the best place to play hide and seek. The back porch went from one side of the house all the way to the other side of the house. This porch was huge in size, but held so much junk you couldn’t tell how big it really was. I would walk down the four rotted, wooden steps into the jungle. The first thing I would walk past was an old Chevy Camerro that had been there since before I was born. The Camerro was originally red and had a tee top. At some point the tee top had been cut off from the roof of the car with a chainsaw. The Camerro became our art work. We spray painted care bears all over the hood and a rainbow on the left side. Just beyond the Camerro was an old Chevy pick up that doubled as an oversized trash can. Inside the pick up were beer bottles, cans and bags of trash that never made it to the dumpster. About two feet past the pick up were three huge trees lying on the ground. The trees had been cut down but never cut up for fire wood which was the reason for cutting them down. To the left of the trees was the home made ropes course that Betty, Travis, and Mr. Woodman built three years prior. The ropes course started out with a cargo net and went into a high rope that led to a tree platform about twenty feet away. From the tree platform the triangular rope pattern led to another junk car. The ropes course didn’t get used much after the first few months it was there. Travis had fallen off the triangular section of the course and broke his arm, preventing us from being allowed to use it anymore.

Theme week five

In June of 2002 I walked down the isle with my step father on one side of me and my biological father on the other side of me. I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. I had my hair done in a waterfall wedding style, my nails neatly manicured, my veil steamed to wrinkle free, and my dress a gorgeous candlelight color with beaded embesaling around the neck line and the six foot train. Saint Mathews church in Hampden was completely packed that day. We had over two hundred guests plus the parisioners that came for mass that afternoon. My bridesmaids were dressed in a periwinkle blue, spegetti strap, and toe length dresws. The girls were Rosalind, Rose, Rachel, and Chas. Christina was suppose to be the fifth girl but was missing in action that day. My flower girl had on a tiny dress that looked just like mine and had a bit a periwinkle blue at the bottom to match the bridesmaids. The men wore black tuxedos with penguin tails and a periwinkle blue vest and tie. But the cutest thing ever was my four year old son in the tux made to look exactly like his father. It really was the most beautiful wedding I have ever attended for three reasons, the flowers, the people, and the party.

The flowers were all white Lillys that made the room smell like a huge flower garden. The men wore small lilly petals and the women carried one white lilly. The bride had a bouquet of white and blue died lillys. They were beautiful. The center pieces on all the tables were also lillys that hung over baskets and held a teddy bear in the center. The cake topper was also white lillys surrounding a bride and groom teddy bear. The people at the wedding were from all walks of life. On the brides side was the lower class people that took up a little over half of the room. They were seated around the right side of the room but close to the dance floor. The grooms family or the upper class guests were seated around the left side of the room, but were mostly gathered at the open bar. The party started and the DJ played the first dance for the husband and wife. Then came the father daughter dance and the bride first danced with her step-father to a song named "The Dad H Didnt Have To Be", and the song said it all. The step-father cried so hard that his face was beat red. The bride also cried and showed how much she loved and appreciated her step-father with a huge hug at the end of the dance. The mother son dance was very boring after that. Then cam the bouquet and garter. The single women formed a small circle facing in, the men formed a circle around the outside of the women facing out. The garter was given to one man and the bouquet was given to one woman. The music started and the men and women started passing the garter and bouquet around their circles. The music stopped and whoever got stuck with the garter had to place it on the leg of the woman that got the bouquet. It was a great new way to savor a wedding tradition. The party kept on going and at almost ten-thirty at night one of the brides best friends requested the DJ play "It's Raining Men" and the crowd went wild. The Four Points Sheratan at teh Bangor airport never knew what hit them. The party ended in the ball room but continued in the hotel rooms. After three in the morning a large group of guest and the bride and groom went to Dysarts for breakfast and sobering up. The next day the bride and groom left for their honeymoon, but would never forget the night of their lives.

Theme week four

I go into my interview for my Surgical Tech program at Eastern Maine Community College so nervous that my stomach strts to cramp up. I enter the room and sit at teh far end of the table. I am introduced to two woman who I can no longer remmber the names of. I am asked so many questions that I felt like I was applying for a job instead of a program of study. I did not expect nor was I ready for what i was getting myself into. The woman strted asking questions about my medical background and my future plans as a surgical technologist. I answered the questions and then said my goodbyes hoping that I would be accepted.



I go in to wait for my interview for my Surgical Tech program at Eastern Maine Community College so nervous that my stomach strts to cramp up. I start to wonder if I am going to have to run to the bathroom with nervous gas or even get the poops before I am even called into the room. I enter the room and sit at the far end of the table. The table is long and rectangular. I am introduced to two women whose names were Barbara and Katie. I am asked so many questions that I felt like I was applying for a job instead of a program of study. One of the questions was, "what is the hardest decision you have ever had to make?" I said it was having a child at the age of ninetten while I was still in highschool. One of the woman kind of made a hmmm sound and kept looking at her paper. The other woman seemed to be writing down every word I said. I did not expect nor was I ready for what i was getting myself into. I think I expected to get into the program with no problem, due to my medical history and my pure commitment to the medical feild. The women started asking questions about my medical background and my future plans as a surgical technologist. I told them about being in the Army for eight years as a medical specialist and how much I loved every minute of it. I told them how I had been a CNA and an EMT for six years and really enjoyed taking care of people. I told them that I am a team player and yet can also succeed as a team of one. I also told them that I am a fast learner and learning new things allows me to gain the confidance I need in the medical field. I left the interview feeling rather good about how things went. When I said my prayers that night I prayed to God that if it is his will, I would get into the program. A few weeks later I recieved that dredded letter in the mail telling me that I was not accepted. I would be lying if I said I did not want to hurt the person whoo made that decision, but instead I will keep my head up and just keep trying.

Theme week Three

I awake with the morning sun beaming down on my face. The cool breeze from the window makes shivers go up my spine. I look to my left and see my two-year-old son starring at me.
Sammy: "I got to go pee! Please mama take my pull up off."
Me: Ok Sammy lets go get you on the big potty."
I walk up the stairs carrying Sammy all the way. I set him on the potty and tell him to go pee. He then lets out some serious morning gas.
" I farted mama! He he he!"
"Say excuse me Sammy."
"Excuse me" Sammy says in a small, meek voice.
"Are you all done Sammy?"
"Uh huh."
"Ok then lets go downstairs and get breakfast."
"Do you want French toast or cereal today?"
"I want chocolate milk!"
"Sammy get out of the fridge please. I will get you chocolate milk in a minute. I have to get your cereal first."
"OK mama"
"Get up to the table and sit in your seat, I will bring your breakfast over."
As we sit down to eat I notice that Sammy has his finger up his nose.
"Don’t pick you nose Sammy it is disgusting. No Sammy doesn’t eat it either! That is not OK Sammy we don’t pick our nose and eat it."
"Sorry mama."
"Now please eat your breakfast and then you can take your bath and get ready for your day at home with mama."
After bath time came and went I read books to Sammy and played with the cat a bit. Sammy is always torturing our cat and in turn our cat tortures Sammy.
" Mama, cat bite big boy."
" You need to leave the cat alone and stop trying to put him in the box, then the cat wont bite you. OK Sammy it is time for your nap, Go get silky and mama will sing some songs to you while you go to sleep.”
“ I want my binky too.”
“OK here is your binky and silky now lets sing a few songs. Can you sing little star for me?”
“Tinkle, tinkle wittle sta, how wonda what are, up abut the erld so eye, like a dima in the sky, twinkle, wittle sta.”
“Good job honey! Now can you sing Rock a by Baby?”
“Ock a baby on tee ta, en the win blow the cadle will ock. En the bow bakes the cadle will fall, and down will come Sammy, ight into mam’s arms. YEAH!
“Great job Sammy! Now go to sleep and when you wake up Daddy will be home.”

Now that I can relax and do my homework, I sit at the computer with my eyes heavy and my brain empty. I dont know what to write for this dialogue theme. I hope and pray that I do not have redo it like I have had to do with some of the prompts. Sitting here with my cold hands on the keyboard, I can’t think of any dialogue I have on a regular basis other than with my kids. It is awfully cute when my two year old sings to me! ;)

Theme Week Two

It is August 28, 1994 and my parents just bought a house an hour away from my current home. I don't want to leave, I don't want to lose my friends, and I don't want to start a new life. I have been in the Bucksport area all my life. I am fifteen years old and I have so many friends here. I just don't want to leave! I am crying the whole way to our new house. We get there and immediately start unpacking the uhaul. I like the new house and all but my new school is at least a half hour drive from the new house. The new house is great and has a lot more room than our old house. There is four bedrooms and two bathrooms, an attached garage, and a huge yard to play with my dog.

I only have three days until my freshman year of high school starts, so my mom takes me shopping. I figure if I have to make such a dramatic change for my parents, then my mom is going to have to make some dramatic changed too. I have her take me to get my hair cut, and I decide to cut it short. My hair is down to my lower back and my mom has never let me cut it any shorter than my middle back. She would braid my hair every day before school and make me look pretty. She crys when she sees my hair cut all the way up to my shoulders. But she told me that it was my choice and that as long as I didn't make myself look like a boy then she would be alright with it. The beautician puts the sixteen inches of hair in a braid and gives it to my mom.

My first day of high school and I don't know anyone. On the bus ride a girl named Rose sits with me. She invites me to join her church youth group and go on a hike of Gulf Hagus with them. I kindly accept and asked my parents if I could go. My parents meet The youth group leader and help me pack for my trip. They are ecstatic that I made a friend so quickly. My father use to hike Gulf Hagus when he was younger and gives em some pointers on how to stay safe on the hike. It was a long day of hiking and then we went to a Steve Green concert at the Bangor Auditorium. I was amazed at the feeling I got from his music. I was saved that night at the concert and church became a huge part of my life.

After my freshman year I went through a relationship that broke my heart half way into my junior year. I met him at church and thought that his faith in God was as strong as mine had become. He wanted so much that was not in God's plan for me. So after about a year and half with him I caught him cheating on me. I guess waiting wasn't something he could do. So after a broken heart I changed my plan for my life. I signed up to Join the Maine Army National Guard. I joined in April of 1997 and had my very first drill weekend that month. I met the most wonderful man that weekend. I left for Basic training on June 19, 1997. I returned home on September 7, 1997. I finally let down my guard and knew that the "army guy" was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Our first time together physically I go pregnant.

I was confused and didn't know what to do. He was almost ten years older than me and I was scared that he would leave. He didn't leave though. He stayed by my side through every appointment, class, and pain. He was a wonderful man! We had our son on May 5, 1998. I graduated from high school on June 7, 1998. Brian (Army guy) had gotten an active duty position in Old Orchard Beach. So the day after I graduated, I moved my son and I down to live with him. Throughout the next few years we moved around the state of Maine for Brian's job. I stayed true to my beliefs in God but I did not find a church that I felt welcomed in. So I would attend my home church in Corinth when I could. And since Brian was Catholic, I attended his church in Hampden as often as possible.

Our son grew right before our eyes. He was so smart and full of energy. When he was five his father and I parted ways. We did not live together but still kept each other as best friends. We both put our son above all others. This helped when we found out that our son has Tourettes Syndrome and severe ADHD. We still to this day have daily contact with each other and share custody of our son. I am now back In Bucksport where my life began and Brian is in Hampden where his life began. We agree to raise our son to love everyone no matter what their financial, emotional, or physical status is. We have done a great job over the past ten years of raising our wonderful son. I am however not ready for our son to grow up into a young man. I have noticed signs that I embarrass him and that he no longer needs "mama's magic kisses" when he falls down. At least I now have another son that still needs me.

Overloaded

Today is my easy day! Today is the day i sit and do as much homework as possible before Thursday comes. On thursday i am in class at Emcc from 8am until 4pm. I get home around five, just long enough to get my fire gear ready. I then go to my Firefighter one and two course at six. I am there until about ten, that is if the instructors let us out by then. Last week I lived on caffeine pills just to stay awake for fire training. This week I have search and rescue training. I also have to go to fire training this weekend. Oh my goodness! Did I over do it this semester or what? Oh well, I will push through. I only live one life and I want to be the kind of person that doesn's give up. I want my kids to see how hard I work and hope that they get the same work ethic as I have.

Time to kill!

I have almost three hours to kill between my last class and my next class. This give me time to make sure I have everything ready for upcoming classes. I have completed my computer class assignments up to a point where I need help. I had my first A&P II lab today and it wasn't so bad. I have a lot of notes of things I need to look up or review, because i want to make sure I don't get lost this semester. I finally fell asleep at 3am and had to get up at 6am. My some Samuall was up all night puking, and got very upset when I didn't want to give him a drink of milk. I have a very long day today... I had my first class here at 8am and I'm here until 4pm, then I go to my son Joshua's swimming lessons and then home, grab something to eat and off to my firefighter Class for three hours. I get out of there around nine and got straight to bed when I get home. I usually get to sleep in on Friday but this week we are headed to Oakfield, Maine. We have two camps up there on the original settlement road. Our camps are right next to the cemetery where the first settlers are buried. It is a passed down story that the settlers died from contaminated water. It is an urban legend that you are suppose to say "Hi Ada" and "Bye Ada" when you go by the cemetery. Ada is said to be the ghost that takes things from the camps while we are sleeping. If you say what you are suppose to then she wont bother your belongings. I'm a paranoid mother, so I say what I am suppose to because I'm afraid she might take one of my kids... LOL! Anyway as you can see I'm excited to go to camp and get away for a few days. I'm dreading the outhouse thing though. We really are "roughing it" when we go to our camp in the sticks. But the kids love it and My Fiance loves it, so I get to enjoy their smiles while we are there. Plus it is snowmobile season! YEAH!

Know thyself

First

As I sit at the window looking out at the rain falling on this lovely spring night. I watch a puddle in the middle of the parking lot grow bigger with each rain drop it collects. It reminds me of my life at school. The puddle represents my brain that is growing with each drop of knowledge. My thoughts soon distracted by a ruckus upstairs. I cant believe I have two children that are growing up so fast. I have a wonderful nine year old boy that has the heart of an angel. I see so much of myself in him. He has a huge love for God and practices his faith on a daily basis. He strives for his dreams and has recently expressed an interest in becoming a priest when he grows up. He wants to help people no matter what. I have a wild two year old son that has the opposite personality of his brother. However he still follows his brother around like a lost puppy and wants to do everything his brother does. He is mouthy and rarely listens to me. But he loves his mommy very much and tells me several times a day. My kids make my life worth living. Without my kids I have nothing. I had my oldest son at age nineteen and although I was not ready, I did the best I could. And I think I did a damn good job. I sometimes wish that I had the same exact child when I was done college and had a great career. But that wish leads to the thought, if that had happened would I work so hard to be who I want to be without the push of my kids? I honestly think that without my kids I would not be in school and I would be someone that has minimal goals that never get met.



Second

You are only eighteen years old! What were you thinking having sex with a man that is nine years older than you? And now your pregnant? What did your father and I teach you about protecting yourself. You haven't even graduated from high school yet. OK I am sorry I snapped at you. You are eighteen and you have a big decision ahead of you. You want to keep the baby? Well that is the smartest choice you have made. You will be a great mother. But you will still attend school every day and graduate with grades that will get you into college someday. Your high school transcript will follow you forever.
You have a beautiful little boy! I hope you are able to finish out your last month of school. You have already called all your teachers? Good, and what did they say? They are going to help you schedule a time to come in and finish up your work and take your finals. OK I will watch this cute bundle for you while you attend school and graduate. But at night time he is yours no matter how tired you are.
I cant believe that my baby girl has a wonderful eight year old son. you have done a great job raising him. he is a blessing to so many people and will continue to be a blessing to many people in his future. Whats that? You have applied to college? Oh my goodness, are you sure you are ready for that? You definitely have the support needed for your family. I think it would be great if you go back to school and become someone your son will be proud of.
You have two wonderful sons and I am so proud of you. You will graduate from college and be on your way to bigger things. Never forget that the best things in life are these two gifts from God. You have made me proud to be your mother! I love you sweet pea!


Third

She was a high school junior when she joined the Maine Army National Guard. She was planning to go to basic training the summer before her senior year. The very first day of her very first drill, she met a man that was so sweet and nice to her. He had glowing green eyes and brown hair. He showed her around and introduced her to her fellow soldiers. She was still in her civilian cloths and very nervous. But she noticed that he didn't care how nervous she got, he worked very hard to make her feel welcome. When she left that day, the man asked her if she would like to go for an ice cream and talk about what to expect in basic training.
He stood there in the sunlight as she boarded the plane and left for basic training. He knew that the next three months would be hell for her. He wrote to her every day and sent his love from miles away. He knew that this was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He watched her as she waved goodbye. He thought to himself, only three months and she will be back with me. His prayers found there way to her each night as she went through the change drills and abuse from the drill instructors. He kept her picture next to him when he slept. He hoped it would keep her in his dreams.
He drove from Maine to South Carolina to bring her home with him. He endured her entire family, just to be close to her. He had never felt this way about anyone in his twenty-seven years. She had never felt this way in eighteen years. They were a match in all ways. A month after she returned home from basic training the stick showed two lines. the box said that two lines meant positive. She was scared shitless, and did not know what to do. They had only been together once and they used protection. How could this have happened? He told her that everything was going to be OK and that he would stand beside her through everything. The day she gave birth to a beautiful son, he held her hand and wiped her tears off her face. He was definitely a man of his word. How many twenty-seven year old men get an eighteen year old in high school pregnant and actually stick around? She knew that the number was low. She knew it was love and that she had hit the jackpot with him. She would live happily ever after.

Stressed out

I have been trying to start my online course for business and technical writing for the past two days. I just cant seem to get the hang of this online course thing. I know it has only been three days since the semester started, but I think I catch on quicker with someone standing in front of the class telling me how to do things. And a question is only a hand raise away. What in the heck was I thinking putting all this stress on myself? OK, now that I got that off my chest. Back onto doing all of the tasks in front of me and not regretting any of them, or looking back.

A stressful day

Today was my first official day back to school and I think it went pretty well. I have six classes this semester at EMCC and then I am taking a six credit fire fighter one and two course through SMCC. A total of 22 credits in all. I am determined to ace all of them though. We will see how A&P II goes! I am going to bed early tonight due to a long day at school and my future father in law being admitted into the hospital today. He has Cellulitis, which is an inflamation of the cellular tissues. it is located in his right leg and is extremely painful. I had it once in my face due to a staph infection. I looked like a Clingon from Star Trek. (The above picture.) Once the swelling went down it looked like my face was peeling from a severe sunburn. I would rather go through the 21 hours of labor with my first son than to ever go through that pain and discomfort again. But hopefully I will never have that ahppen again. However my prayers at the moment are with my Father-in-law.

Week 1 Journal

It is 1am and I really should be going to bed but I have to much on my mind to sleep. I am still not ready for this semester to start and I'm a bit stressed about it. It seems as though when I first came back to school a year and half ago that things came easy fro me. Even after ten years of being out of school. I impressed not only my family but myself when I made the Deans list my first two semesters. One would think that it would also have impressed the woman doing the interviews for the Surgical Tech program. I just don't understand? I have eight years of medical training in the Army, six years as a Certified Nursing Assistant, I'm an Emergency Medical Technician, and have been a first responder for the Orland fire department for two years. How could I not get chosen for the program? But a twenty year old kid with no medical background gets chosen? I guess I didn't turn on the charm enough or something. Anyway that is the only problem I have had with this school. I will interview again and be a bit more prepared now that I know what to expect. So until then I keep taking class' and keep making the Deans list to prove not only to myself but to everyone who ever doubted me, that I can graduate with honors and I will!