Um. Hullo. I really don't have much of an idea what to do here, but Mrs. Willhuite said I was supposed to be the "Director" of our group. I don't know what that means other than to make certain the group is here. I guess just a quick intro is kind of in order.
My name is Melisande Agatha Decker-Williston, but I'd prefer it if you would call me (and refer to me) as Stormy. I'm 23 years old, I will be a teacher this fall, at the local high school (yes, I'm way nervous about it), and am working on my Masters in Library Science. I am currently living back in my hometown of Sheffield's Crossing, Connecticut.
I'm taking INF 169 as part of the graduate-level "base skills" necessary for my degree.
This is only my third online class ever, so please, if I'm making errors in, "Netiquette," let me know -- but be gentle.
I live with my younger sisters (twins) who will be seniors in high school this fall.
My only other "tenants" are a ferret named Wonder Weasel and a pair of bearded dragons named Bud Abbott and Lou Costello (Lou is the funny one).
I guess my standard schedule this summer will be mostly dedicated to going to my class and preparing to TEACH this fall.
Er... I guess as a Standard Disclaimer, I'll just say: Do not fold, spindle, or mutilate.
Stormy
Hello, all. My name is Lindsay Nieves, but please call me Snowy.
I'm almost 17 years old, and I'm taking this course because my school counselor recommended it "for various reasons." One is to help me get into college, although at this point I doubt that I'm going. The other is to have contact with people in other parts of the world, and *that* is something I do look forward to.
I live with my family. I have an older brother, Rolly, who is 19, and my little sister Bibi, who is ten.
Our home is in Timbuctoo, California, in the old gold-rush country. In the 1850s it was a booming place and had its own Wells Fargo office. Now we don't even have our own post office, so you can imagine how lively things are.
You can still see the Wells Fargo building, which is quite historical, even if it is just a roof resting on the ground. There's a fence around it, so no one can go in and mess it with it. Or climb inside and steal something. (Just joking, of course!)
By the way, I wrote that stuff about Wells Fargo because my mother recommended that I try to describe the "bucolic delights" of this outback each time I write.
"Bucolic delights" is my mother's phrase. Part of the reason she thinks this is such a wonderful place to live is that she travels a lot for her job. She sells medical equipment, which you would think is a dead-end job. I mean, after all the hospitals and clinics buy their equipment, the market is gone, right?
Apparently not, because somehow she goes on selling.
My father is an engineer. He works at Beale Air Force base, which is close by. He always says, "I'm a civilian, and I'm civil, but I'm not a civil engineer."
My main project this summer is to find a job other than babysitting. There are some problems with that: there aren't many jobs other than babysitting, and I have to take care of Bibi most nights. Even though I don't get paid for *that*, I can take her with me if I babysit someone else.
There's actually a ton of money in babysitting, but it's a job that seriously impacts one's social life.
And way out here in the sticks, there is not much social life to be had.
Hmm... what else to say?
I'm related in some way to Tito Nieves, the salsa singer who sang on "I Like It Like That" -- so when you hear that song, think of me. I know I do.
Hey, Stormy, what will you teach in high school? You didn't say. We don't have any library-related classes at my school.
Laters,
Snowy
Um, Hi, I’m Ginanna Sachs and I just turned twenty-two. My family name is German, I think, or French, it all depends on where the border was at the time great-great grandpa Sachs emigrated. My name is a combination of Mom’s favorite great aunts, Gina and Anna, both immigrants from Italy, Sicily to be exact.
I’m taking INF169 to complete my non-degree electives requirement for graduation. If my oral defense of my thesis goes well I expect to receive my doctorate in organic chemistry this December. That right, I said doctorate. Ms. Willhuite said to describe ourselves to each other so here goes. I mean I simply HAVE to tell somebody only keep it to yourself, GOT IT?
Sorry I *shouted* net-etiquette wise but I am so mad I had to take this on-line course, no offence meant to you, Ms Willhuite, or the institution, instead of at my university. It makes me so angry... just today I was walking across campus minding my own business when this guy come up from behind and pinches my butt. Then he tries to feel me up WHILE his girlfriend eggs him on. And don’t say, ‘Well, you must have tried to steal her boyfriend, slut!’ I swear, I didn’t even know the couple! Plus I am not that kind of a girl.
I’d best explain. I... I was a *late* developer. I was sixteen and in my senior year of high school when I first menstruated; I’d skipped a couple grades early in school. I was four-foot-nine, eight-five pounds and built like a stick. And yes, I was and I still am a science geek, more properly a geekette I suppose. Want to make something of it? I never had a date in school, except for this one prank someone tried to pull for prom but … that’s another story.
By the time I entered college at eighteen, I took a year off to *find* myself, I had filled out... a lot. I was five-foot eight, one-hundred and twenty-five pounds and built like a brick sh... I got offers to model. Ads I did for a local department store chain helped pay for most of my college, that and my scholarships. I stopped growing, for the most part, at twenty. I am now a five-foot eleven, one-hundred and thirty pound babe. Think of Sophia Loren at that age but better, honest! People keep asking me if I’m a Playboy model, that’s how good looking I am. I’ll send a photo someday if you like. I finally got asked out on dates, lots of them, by attractive men and a few even more attractive women and I loved it.
'So why is Ms Brunette-bombshell so bitter?' you’re asking yourselves, or is that self? Because it all went to hell a year ago, thank god few ever bother me in the research labs. What is it with people that they think an attractive young woman with long legs and large breasts is a slut? I can’t help it if I inherited my Italian ancestors lush frames and my great aunt Agatha’s statuesque height. Agatha is another pet peeve of mine. It’s my middle name; Stormy, you have my condolences. Once the kids in grade school learned my initials were G A S you can imagine what life was like for Ms Stinky, Smelly Sack, Gina McGassy … You get the picture. And all because my great aunt was loaded and my parents figured if they named me for her she’d... I HATE MY F***ING PARENTS!
Getting back to why I HATE my name. When I got to college, no one knew me. I dropped the middle initial and went by Gina or Ginanna mostly. I preferred Ginanna as it sounded sexy, almost exotic. I got dates, was admired, even envied and it was heaven, not that I rubbed it in of course. Then a year ago I started getting strange looks from other students. Some would be talking and stop suddenly when I passed, and start up right after. I had insults muttered at me and disgusting notes left where I would find them describing in lured details what the pervert wanted to do with me.
Sorry to vent like this but, I have issues.
Ginanna Agatha Sachs
P.S. Did you know there are at least two current, popular porn actresses who go by the name Ginanna and I look like one of them, even down to my hair color, except I’m taller. And she does EVERYTHING for the camera.
P.P.S. Did I tell you I hate my G. d. parents?
* * * *
No Italians or Sicilians were hurt in the making of this story though many small furry animals...
Ignore that last bit, okay?
Hello, Stormy and everyone else in this class with me.
My name is Esther Polk, but everyone calls me Star. Esther was my Great grandma’s name and my mom thought I should be the lucky one to carry on a family name. And NO I am not into synchronized swimming, nor do I have a swimsuit company.
Hmmm. Let’s see. What else can I really tell you? You know, I really hate these introductory bios. I don’t lead that interesting of a life. Really
I’m 17 years old and a junior in high school, well I would be, but I’m in what is known as 'Running Start'. A program for high school students to go to college in place of high school, there by getting our Associates degree at the same time we are getting our H.S. diploma.
I grew up in the Pacific North West, but two months ago, My parents, in their infinite wisdom decided to ruin my life by uprooting everything I have ever known and moved us to this desert no-man’s hole in the ground. :( I haven’t seen a rain drop the whole time I’ve been here. Daddy is a Radiology Tech and my mother is a hairstylist. They could get a job anywhere, and I still don’t know why they picked this spot in South West Utah. Of all the hot places to go, why couldn’t they pick somewhere like Phoenix, or San Diego, or even Las Vegas? No. They had to pick this tiny town.
Poor Puke is dying from the heat here. :( Oh, I should probably tell you. Puke is my Westie. Her real name is Lacey, but she has some kind of genetic eating disorder that caused her to throw up all over the place until we figured out that she needed a special diet. My brothers thought Puke was a better name for her and it unfortunately stuck. Anyway, with all of this heat, I had to take her down to the groomers and get the poor thing shaved. She is adorable, but looks so funny with out all of her fur. :)
Lets see... Oh yeah, you wanted to know our likes and dislikes. I like ice cream, especially chocolate, but I can’t indulge too often or else it will go to my hips. :(
I think I like lightening storms. We had one here last week, and man was it cool. We didn’t get lightening storms in Washington, just rain. but to see the lightening dancing around the sky was really cool.
Oh who can forget shopping. I LOVE to shop. The mall here is okay, not like back home, but there are a few interesting stores. I found the cutest outfit the other day. It was a pink cami with cute detailing on it, and I paired it up with a flowing white summer skirt. It goes great with my flip-flops, or I can dress it up with my healed sandals.
I like watching hockey. My older brother Leo plays hockey and it is really fun going to the games. Some of those players are so hot. They’re tough and cute. My mother says I really shouldn’t date anyone on my brothers team cuz it could cause problems, specially if I were to date someone on his line, which really sucks, because there is this one player, Mike who plays left wing, who is so gorgeous.
Dislikes. Well, I don’t like dishonesty. People who lie just plain suck. I don’t like one hundred degree weather which I’m finding out we get a lot here. :( Oh, and I don’t like old men who always seem to be checking me out or something. It is like totally gross. :(
So like I said, I don’t really have anything interesting to talk about.
See you all around.
<3 <3 <3 *Star* <3 <3 <3
Okay, introductions first I guess. My name is Kendall Green,
I'm 25 and I live in Hallandale, Florida, about fifteen miles north of Miami. I don't have a cute nickname I'm afraid; just Kendall. I'm a single mom, I've lived here about six years now, and my son Taylor and I share a small house with my friend Sharon and her daughter Cami.
Let's see, what else can I tell you about me? I love to cook and I'm good at it. I'm also a fair hand behind a bar. Sharon runs her own catering business, and I help her out sometimes tending bar. I love all kinds of music and I'd have to say that dancing is a passion of mine. Of course the biggest love of my life is Taylor>; I'll do anything for my baby. I'm a bit of an exercise freak … okay maybe more than a bit. I jog, bike, weight-train; Bowflex really should send me a Christmas card every year.
I have to admit I feel a bit intimidated. So far we've got one person working on a master's degree, another working on a doctorate, and two 17 year olds in this course! What's next, a Nobel Prize winner looking to pick up another degree for kicks?
Then we have me; I got pregnant my junior year in high school. Taylor was born that June, and I went to work instead of back to school. While my former classmates were going to prom and graduating, I was working as a waitress at a truck stop out by the interstate. I finally got my GED two years ago, and now I'm working online towards a degree in business administration. It's slow going, but my work schedule makes taking classes in person pretty much impossible.
Despite the intimidation factor, I'm looking forward to this whole thing. I'm a very outgoing person and I love meeting new people. I can't wait to get to know everyone here; I've never been outside Florida, and the chance to communicate with people from all over is really exciting … even if I do feel like Pinky in a group full of Brains.
Kendall
My name is Danny Grant. I'm 26 years old and I live in Worthing, West Sussex, on the south-east coast of England.
Really, it's not the south east coast, but that's just me being pedantic. For those of you who are not aware, it's referred to as God's waiting room because of all the old-people's homes there are. One person even suggested it's a cemetery with lights on.
Anywho, it's about 56 miles from London as the crow flies.
Why do they say that? Have you even seen a crow fly? It's all over the place…
Yeah, right…
So anyway, that's where I live.
I have a small flat there. They call it a studio flat, which just means that if you sit on the bed, except for the shower/toilet, you can practically reach everything in the who flat - handy in some cases, not in others.
There's a wicked view of the sea from the window, which is why I put up with it being a bit on the small side. I'm right opposite the beach, so it's pretty cool.
I'm doing this course because it means I can work from home.
I do most things from home, I like it that way.
Mum reckons I'm like that girl on that film — The Net, only I'm not a girl. She says I should get out more, but I say stick with what you're comfortable with.
Anyway, I do go out, I'm just not in the pub every night like she and all her piss-head friends are, but you didn't want to know that did you? You want to know stuff like whether I have a cat named Fluffy or my favourite colour is purple or something.
Sorry to disappoint.
Danny
Hiya,
My name is Paige Turner, I’m 19 and live in Cardiff, the capital of Wales. I doubt you ‘mericans have ever heard of it, although at one time most of the coal used in the world was exported through it.
I’m a student doing my first year pre-clinical studies, which means in about a million years, I could be a doctor, medical one in case you didn’t get that. It’s hard work and I don’t have a lot of time for much else–I’m not the cleverest in my year, so I take longer to do most things.
Why am I doing this course? I think because I could do it at my own pace and because it’s very different from the biochem and physics they are trying to force into my crowded little brain at my formal university.
Not much else to say at the moment, I live at home, which means I get to eat regularly and my mother does most of my laundry–I’m an only child, so I suppose I get spoilt, just a little. My dad is a physiotherapist, so I suspect, I’m getting his medical degree by proxy–he always wanted to be a doctor. My mother is a social worker–you know, takes children off harmless parents and puts them in care for their own good. You know the difference between a rottweiler and a social worker? The rottweiler eventually gives the baby back–yeah, okay it isn’t that funny, but then like most girls, I can’t tell jokes.
I really am going now, I have an assignment to complete, it’s only a week late.
Bye,
Paige 8)
For those of you that are wondering just what is going on with this series, this is a short post to give you the basics.
The idea for this series is to have a bunch of independent authors building off of each other. We came up with a framework, the online Communications course, that would allow these characters to interact. If you've read the first eight chapters, you've been introduced to the eight principle characters: Stormy, Snowy, Ginanna, Star, Kendall, Danny, George, and Paige. The correspondence between these folks is to accomplish one part of their INF 169 class, and they'll be sharing information about themselves through email as the story builds. This is the post to ask your questions, and if I'm allowed to answer them without giving away anything, I'll do so throughout! If you want to ask questions about the separate characters, ask them here and I or the others -- whoever is responsible for that character -- will attempt to answer it if it's not "secret" about the character.
As you read through each chapter, there will be comments by the other participating authors with "ICR" followed by their character's name... this is an In Character Response by that character to the currently posting character. Think of it like a thread on a forum or email list.
Edeyn
Well. That went pretty good. Sort of. We have a really, ah, random mix of folks here. It's nice to meet you all and I hope we can get along -- who knows, we may end up being friends for decades because of this assignment.
Do you all think it's possible to be good friends with someone you only know on the internet? I think the jury is still out. I've never experienced it myself, but I have friends who swear that some of their best friends are strangers.
That's just a bit creepy, for my tastes.
Names seemed to be a running theme for the first intros... so let me ask the lot of you: Do you think my name (the actual one, Melisande Agatha Decker-Williston, not my nickname) is too pretentious-sounding? I don't think it is, but it kind of makes folks seem to think that I'm... standoffish. Melisande was my mother's favorite aunt's name, and Agatha was my father's grandmother's name. Decker is my mother's maiden name, and Williston is my father's name. The hyphenation wasn't my idea, by the way. My mother is totally one of those "society" ladies. Always going on about how wonderful her debut was and how great it was to be a debutante. Fat cow.
So, what kind of things do we really want to discuss here, folks?
We really have a sanctioned email list with no restrictions, other than that we all participate. No filters, no censors, we get to say what we really think of things to people we're really never going to get to meet. Or have to meet, depending on your point of view.
Well, for now... I'll just talk about what comes to mind. How about how I came to be called Stormy? You might think it was some kind of commentary on my teenage years or something, and while I was certainly more unpredictable than my contemporaries, the name came to be in much more... embarrassing a manner.
I decided one day when I was 16 that I didn't NEED any help to handle the school's sailboat by myself, despite the weather report warning of "rough" before the day was through. I was never really in any danger because it wasn't a GALE or anything, and my father had a chase-craft following me without me knowing in case something went wrong (which it did). But there wasn't a soul in the girls' dorm that wasn't calling me Stormy by lights out that night and in the entire Academy by the next night. So, while it was earned in embarrassment, it could have been much worse, and I adopted the name as sort of a badge that I'd accomplished my teenage idiocy and could put it behind me.
Today's Standard Disclaimer: Don't make me angry... you wouldn't LIKE me when I'm angry...
Stormy
Well! I feel a lot better now that everyone's introduced themselves. Like I said, my school counselor thought I could "benefit" from contact with people from outside this area, and I think I will. Maybe not the benefit that *she* thought, but I'm sure I'll benefit.
What I'm saying is that I was a bit nervous about writing. I assumed that I'd be the youngest one here, but I also assumed I was the only one who wasn't completely happy with their situation in life.
I sure didn't expect to not be the only one living in the middle of a very hot nowhere. We've been topping 100 degrees lately.
For you UK-sians, we've been going well over 38 degrees every day. Usually this time of year there are no clouds at all, but because of the wildfires it's quite hazy. The air quality is bad, and even though it doesn't bother me, my parents won't let me ride my bike. One of my parents' friends (one of the few I like) has to stay in ONE room in her house, hunkered down with her air purifier. She even has breathing problems on good days.
Luckily, all the fires are far away from us, so we're not worried about getting burned out. And no jackasses started any fires on the Fourth, so we're good.
So...
I was also interested to see that I'm not the only one who isn't 100% comfortable with their name. Stormy, I think your name is fine. It is a mouthful, but it's not bad. I mean, if you called yourself Lady Melisande Agatha Decker-Williston (of the Sheffield's Crossing Decker-Willistons), I don't think anyone would think twice about it.
Which, now that I say it... well, no, it doesn't sound pretentious. It's just long by American standards.
My own name, in the Spanish style (and this will show you why I don't like MY name) is:
Lindsay Felisa Maria Solidad Nieves Lindsay
Because your last two names are your father's last name and your mother's last name. My mother — knowing full well the wrong and the damage she was doing — gave me Lindsay as my first name EVEN THOUGH it was already there in my last name.
We've fought about this many times... Oh, man! And I didn't want to get into this, but what the hell...
I'm Puertorican, and proud of the fact, but unfortunately, I look just like my mother, with pale skin and blond hair, so everyone thinks I'm white.
I'm not.
And my mother has ALWAYS assumed that I want to live in the Anglo world, as if my Boriken (Puertorican) heritage didn't matter.
And so, you know — well, maybe you won't know, so I'll tell you — but just reading about the rest of you so far gives me hope that I can get away from all this: this hot little town, my stupid name, and some parts of my family.
But, sorry! Don't mean to complain. Now that I've whined so much, I have to find something nice to end with.
Okay: here are a few things.
For the Fourth of July, the winds blew all the haze away, so we had nice, clean air for the holiday weekend. My friend Lewis got one firework: one HUGE thing like a rocket, and he lit it off from my backyard.
It took off into the air, at least twice as high as any of the houses around, and we got SO SCARED that it was going to come down and set something on fire. It didn't seem like a stupid idea until it was hanging up there in the air. Because, you know, all the plants and houses and everything on the ground is as dry as old matchboxes.
Obviously, we weren't supposed to do it.
It exploded with a tremendous BAM!, and this big bright fountain of blue, red, and white, opened up like a flower.
At first we were astonished and happy (and tremendously relieved that we hadn't started a wildfire). Then we heard neighbors yelling, so my friends and I all ran into my house and hid for half an hour with the lights off, laughing our heads off.
My mean neighbor, Mr. Curry, asked me if I knew anything about it the next day, and I feigned innocence, so he was disgusted and walked off, which added some quality to the event.
Another nice thing: on Saturday, I was walking with my friend by the river, and we saw a family of deer. They were only maybe ten yards away, but they were upwind of us, so we stood still and they couldn't see us. We watched them for a while but then Denise had to cough, which scared them off.
One last thing, also very nature-y: Last week, a cow and a sheep turned up in my neighbor's front yard. This is VERY unusual, since the ranches are not that close to us. Anyway, there was a group of animals being taken somewhere (who cares where) and these two got away. My neighbor, again, Mr. Curry (who is not a nice man), had just put in sod in his front yard, and the two animals walked all over it, leaving these deep, deep hoof-prints. They ripped huge pieces of sod out of place, and took big bites out of it.
And even better: they didn't mess with anyone else's yard but his.
Oh, my God, it was so funny! I don't know if you've ever seen someone try to shoo a cow away, but it's a riot. He's there, waving his arms, going "Shoo! Shoo, Bossy! Shoo, shoo!" and of course the cow just chews away, staring at him like he's an idiot.
It was only after he ran in the house to call animal control that the two animals left, and no one knew where they'd gone. I guess they're on the lam. (ha ha)
Plus, in the sod, there were these teeny tiny frogs, less than an inch long, and now they are everywhere. Super cute. My little sister Bibi loves them.
Oh, dear God, what am I telling you!?
Yes, people! Things can get so desperately boring that you laugh at cows.
Laters,
Snowy
Hi, Ginanna again.
I got off subject there on my into and missed a few things you probably want to know about me.
I live in the Village of Shenicqua, Wisconsin. That is spelled s h e n I c q u a. If you leave it completely out you get The Village and that’s a fictional town in The Prisoner, though sometimes I think I understand his pain. It used to be and still is a very exclusive outer suburb of Milwaukee. The area was first settled by wheat farmers and later dairy farmers after it was logged off. Because of all the lakes, a gift of the last ice-age, it eventually became a popular home-away-from-home for the beer barons, packing house millionaires and rich industrialists of Chicago and Milwaukee. If you know the history of Lake Geneva in Walworth County, the deep lake where Wrigley of chewing-gum fame had ocean going yachts shipped in by rail, you have a feel for the place. Shenicqua was even more exclusive but almost as easily reached by rail. The rich came here whenever Lake Geneva got too crowded with the proletariat, I.E. the average blue-collar folks.
In more recent decades many of the wealthy have moved to the west and south along with all those Federal tax dollars they siphon off of us here, that’s another story. Some of the rich kept their mini-baronial estates. Some converted them into fancy country clubs with luxury hotels, golf courses and Arabian horses to amuse the wealthy. A few donated their ill-gotten gains to charity and that’s why I’m here, there are several private prep schools and colleges in the area along with a campus of the University of Wisconsin system. All were former estates. I do my research here except for occasional trips to Mad City, our state capitol, and the BIG UW campus. All the schools are either in the village or within a twenty minute commute by car.
The community is currently a mix of the remaining rich and those who long for the old days, an almost bohemian artist community, lots of students, academics and that ilk AKA people like me, and just enough working class stiffs to *man the engine room*, so to speak. Hey, somebody has to staff the hardware store, be plumbers, fix cars, flip burgers and the like. I‘ve waitressed and I have nothing but respect for those poor souls. My tush still clenches involuntarily when I think of how many times it got pinched or slapped by rude diners. To be honest I liked the job and I would still be doing it if not for this confusion with the porn actresses … Aaaaaaah! God I hate it!
Sorry, where was I?
Oh, my dear great Aunt Agatha, remember she was okay, it’s what my parents did that I object to, the bastards. In any case Agatha left me a bequest in her will. I paid off my student loans and bought a neat house, a cozy Cape Cod. I rent out rooms to students in need, this nice couple Tammy and her life-mate Kymberley are my current tenants. For practical reasons and because I liked it, I bought a used Mazda Miyata convertible, powder-blue and cute as a bug! I needed a car to get to Madison, AKA Mad City as the bus connection was awkward at best and for a sports car it’s good on gas so I don’t feel too guilty. Locally I bicycle to get around or walk. It’s great little community though it is getting overgrown with artists of late. I mean, how many potteries and coffeehouses with poetry nights do we need? I’m exaggerating here but we are a very artsy-fartsy community.
I study, teach classes and blow things up, a joke among us organic chemist types. I also tutor students. That last item I’ve almost given up except when asked to by professors I trust. I had a bad experience with a student some while after the rumors started spreading that I was one of those porn actresses. This male student said he needed help with … I met him at his fraternity and … HOW could I make such a STUPID mistake? I’m supposed to be this near genius and I walk right into an attempted rape willingly. Thank god for taking a woman’s self-defense class, a female professor recommended one to me when she noticed I was working late hours in the lab and library.
I got out of there missing a few items of clothing but not anything else, and ran straight to the authorities, good move on my part, right? Wrong! The campus keystone cops said they’d investigate but nothing much happened. When I complained about a lack of progress some weeks later, I noticed a magazine of one of those *actresses* on the cover lying on top a desk. They’d failed to cover it up in time. I so wanted to tell those rednecks off but I’m not stupid enough to argue with the police so I used other means. No, I did not blow anyone up or poison them, tempting as it was. I simply hacked their university provided computer space and spilled the beans on the frat boys to the internet, every lurid detail. They’d been stupid enough to brag about their near rape, illustrated with digital pictures of my struggling self, no less, and stored them on a *secure* computer. What bone-heads! I blogged them back to the stone-age. NEVER piss off a geek.
Oh I like all sorts of music, bicycling, nature walks, snuggling with someone I love and, my guilty secret, I LOVE Cheetos, the fried kind. Give me a large bag and I’ll do ANYTHING!
Ginanna Agatha Sachs
Hello again from St. George, the hottest place on Earth.
I am like a fish totally out of water here. Most people in this sand trap don’t know ANYTHING about hockey. Apparently the only sports that go on around here is baseball and golf.
Apparently there are something like 23 golf courses here and who knows how many baseball fields. It seems like you can’t drive more than a block or two without seeing either a golf course or a baseball field. Don’t get me wrong, I like baseball, but not to the degree that these people do. Back in Seattle we’d go to our share of Mariner games or even Aquasox games (Aquasox are one of the Mariner farm teams).
My brother Jack told me once that golf was a walk through the park spoiled by a little white ball. Around here, you can’t even walk through them unless you have a little white ball which is too bad, since the golf courses are like green oasis in this orange sand and rock quarry. One of the neighbor girls down the street came by and asked if I wanted to play a round with her. Her name is Mary. Fortunately I already had plans. I told her that I would like to some other time though. I just moved here, I don’t want to be a snob or anything. Now I just need to figure out how to hit the ball with out making a total fool of myself. The only good thing was that IF I were to golf, I’d have to buy a new wardrobe, and Mary was wearing a cute outfit. Another plus about golf is that I wouldn’t need to wear a helmet or worry about team showers or anything.
I’m really finding out how different this place is. In Seattle, Everyone lived indoors. On sunny days EVERYONE was outside, gardening, soaking in the sun or just hanging out. Here, everyone goes outside in the evening after it starts to cool off. People almost live on their back patios in the evening. I can see why, it is pleasant at dusk, feeling some residual heat radiating from the patio and seeing the starts starting to pop out at night.
I’m glad you all seemed to have a good Forth. Daddy packed us all up and drove us to Vegas. It didn’t get us out of the heat, but they have nice pools and it was fun watching the eye-candy. I just wish I was old enough to drink, and or gamble. Mom and Daddy, did order me a drink every once in a while, but mostly if we’re already in our hotel room or somewhere else private.
Well, I guess I’ve bored you enough for now.
Can’t wait to read everyone else’s blogs
<3 <3 <3 *Star* <3 <3 <3
by Breanna Ramsey
of the Pen Pal Continuum
It seems to me several of our little group have some issues with their parents and I have to say it kind of upsets me. I don't know what the problems are … well except for Ginanna's dislike of her name … so I can't say the feelings aren't justified, but I thought maybe I could provide a little perspective based on my own life.
I never met my parents; I was left at the emergency room entrance of a hospital when I was just a day or two old. I was named by a nurse at the hospital, at least that's what I was told, but I have no idea why she named me Kendall.
Really I was lucky; at least I wasn't left in a trash can or something. Florida didn't have a 'Safe Haven' law back then, so dropping me at a hospital was just as illegal as leaving me anywhere else. I was placed in a temporary foster home a few days later and that's where I got my last name.
I don't really remember the Greens, at least not from that time. I have met with them since to thank them for taking me in and caring for me during the first two years of my life. They're very sweet, but they were already well into their fifties when I came into their lives, and they just weren't able to raise me; as it was the two years I was with them went way beyond what was originally planned.
See, it's usually very easy to find a couple to adopt an infant; the statistics are something like 96% are adopted within a few months. Somehow I fell into that 4% that just don't make it. The couple I was placed with after the Greens planned to adopt me, but then the wife got very sick and so I ended up in my third foster home when I was almost four.
I had four more foster families over the next fourteen years. The last was the longest at four years and by far the worst. They weren't abusive or anything even remotely like that, just very strict. I'll admit that the problems were all pretty much my fault because by the time I came to live with them I had a huge attitude problem -- it sort of comes naturally when you realize no one wants you.
For a long time I really, really hated my birth mother. I couldn't understand how she could have abandoned me like that. Then I found out I was pregnant at sixteen and suddenly it was all so clear. Even though I have no real idea what her situation was, it's easy for me to imagine her like I was; scared to death at the thought of becoming a mother. I seriously considered giving Taylor up for adoption, and there were a lot of people; my high school counselor and my foster parents among them, who encouraged me to do just that. I couldn't do it though, especially not after I held him for the first time. I couldn't take the chance that he'd end up like me, lost in the system and bounced from one home to another.
So I let go of the anger and the hate, and I forgave the mother I never knew. I honestly hope she's happy and has a wonderful family of her own.
Anyway, like I said I just wanted to offer some perspective. Parents are people, and people aren't perfect. It's just when I hear someone complain about their parents it pains me, because I can't help but think how lucky they are. I would give almost anything to be able to introduce Taylor to his grandparents.
Kendall
I’ve already said that my mum spends too much of her time in the pub and I’m going to leave it at that.
I don’t dislike her, but I have had a hard time living up to her friend’s expectations.
It’s her friends that seem to drive her, but it’s not often that she and they are not around each other.
I think that’s why I took this course. I thought that being on-line with others who were all taking the same course in communication might help me to better express myself rather than always being on the defensive — which I am told is what I normally am.
It’s nice to see that there are others here that also have ISSUES shall we say, with their respective families and I really hope that together we can help each other.
Thank you for listening.
Danny
I have been so busy with coursework and a new boyfriend, I almost forgot this stuff. Dave, my friend, is on the rugby team of the medical school and can get tickets for some of the Wales’ games. That will get my father’s approval immediately, and hey, I might even get to see an international rugby match for real–all that beef running about, hmm! I might just have to think more about anatomy than I have recently.
The course is tough, we have to remember so much, I almost asked if I could have a silicon chip implanted to help me. According to Dave, who’s in the second year of his clinical, it gets harder every year. Oh poo! Then I see some of the other girls who have made it, and think it can’t be that hard or they’d never have made it.
I don’t consider I have any more issues with my ‘rents than anyone else of my age. I believe they care about me, and I don’t have any probs with my name, even if some of you lot do. When I’m a qualified doctor, saving lives an’ things, the last thing I’m going to worry about is that some bimbo in the States thought I had a funny name.
I have to go, Dave is coming around and he’s borrowed his dad’s beamer and we're going off around Cardiff Bay, to the Millennium Centre, where Duffy is doing a gig. Dave's got tickets.
As we say around here, 'Nos Da.'
Paige.