It is late. I am fried<\/p>\n
I am usually a littel better about keeping on top of things, so that at the end of the semester, I am NOT fried.<\/p>\n
But I won all these contest and had DUTIES to perform. Like, going to the award ceremony. Between that and the shock of disbelief that I went through after I found out about these awards, I have not been able to concentrate on my homework.<\/p>\n
THEREFORE, since I have 200 pages of Moby Dick to finish reading by tomorrow at 4PM, I must give you one of my assignments to read,<\/p>\n
I don’t think I will inflict my 20 page term paper on early american feminism, or my 7 page paper on the modern disillusionment towards Millenial redemption. If these actually piqued your interest, email me and I’ll send them to you.<\/p>\n
BUT! I have another class, called “Create a Meaningful Life” for which I had to do a group project. This project was supposed to involve our little group in creating a presentation that would show how WE make our lives meaningful. We had to read Tuesdays With Morrie so that we would know what a meaningful life was.<\/p>\n
I could have suggested other novels, but they didn’t ask me.<\/p>\n
Please realize that this is a FRESHMAN level, REQUIRED class. My little teenager group members are cute.<\/p>\n
Anyway.
\nWe decided to do a “recipe for a meaningful life” and then bribe the teacher with cookies. My contribution was to write a poem that tied all the ingredients (in the form of a presentation by each individual group member about their “ingredient”) together into some sort of meta-fiction.<\/p>\n
I’m literary. I use the word meta-fiction.<\/p>\n
Anyway, here is my extremely NON-literary, but potentially amusing poem.<\/p>\n
—————-<\/p>\n
I had been standing on top of the world, riding high
\nLife was moving and I was moving with it
\nPlaces to go, people to see, no time to stop and ask why
\nLike a horse in a race, I had taken the bit<\/p>\n
But times change, chances get lost, things don’t go as planned
\nWhat I had wanted, what seemed in my grip
\nCompletely erased out of the horizon I scanned
\nIt seemed like my life had done a flip<\/p>\n
Needless to say, this did not make me happy
\nI whined and pined to my friends on the phone
\n‘til they’d had enough, “Get a grip, Make it snappy!
\nYour bitching will leave you out on your own.<\/p>\n
Oh man, this was bad, I needed answers now
\nI felt like I had lost my way
\nSomeone, surely, must be able to show me how
\nThis game of life should play.<\/p>\n
Sitting on my steps, head in my hands, out of hope
\nI watched the neighbors as they were passing
\nEveryone else seemed like they knew how to cope
\nOne elderly lady was softly laughing.<\/p>\n
Maybe she had learned how to find life’s joy!
\nShe had always seemed happy and nice.
\nI’d take my chances, no time to be coy.
\n“Miz Smith,” I said, “I’d like your advice”<\/p>\n
I explained my problem in some crazy way
\nMy life was a mess, my dreams crashing.
\nShe smiles and said, “I think I know what you’re trying to say
\nI bet I can answer the question you’re asking.<\/p>\n
I have an idea, why don’t you come home with me?
\nI’ve got all the ingredients for cookies
\nUsing my time-honored, handed-down family recipe
\nSimple enough to be made by rookies.<\/p>\n
I folled her down to her kitchen, found a bowl
\nEach part is more than itself, she said
\nThese are pieces of a structure, making up a whole
\nYou have to keep that in your head.<\/p>\n
Bring me the sugar, it’s a good place to start
\nYou’ll see the whole, wait til were done
\nThis one thing is not the whole, it’s just one part
\nPerhaps you could think of the sugar as fun<\/p>\n
(here follows Sergio’s presentations on how FUN makes his life meaningful)<\/p>\n
Miz Smith smiled, as if I were a child that’s slow
\n“Don’t get excited, fun is not the only thing
\nGet the butter out of the fridge, that’s the next to go
\nThink now, what quality does butter bring?”<\/p>\n
(Here follows Jill’s presentation on how love is essential for a meaningful life)<\/p>\n
Mixing and stirring with her spoon in the goo,
\nMiz Smith was working it good.
\n”Those two are nice,” she said, “add in the eggs, too.
\nPlease get them for me if you would.”<\/p>\n
(Stretching the ingredient metaphor, Darryl gives his presentation on eggs as Creatvie arts)<\/p>\n
It’s not cookies yet, this goop lacks power
\nThe foundation is needed on which to build
\nWhat these cookies need is a whole bunch of flour
\nIt’s these things by which our life is filled.<\/p>\n
(Ashley then tells us how she builds her life on the foundation of her family)<\/p>\n
After the flour, she added more things, baking soda and salt
\nI think you’re getting it, you’re not such a goon
\nOne more thing, if I didn’t make you do I’d be at fault
\nI want you to stir with the spoon.<\/p>\n
(I now have to do double duty and talk about getting down into life, as the spoon in the dough, and DOING creative things)<\/p>\n
We’ve talked about cookies as a recipe to make life sweet
\nYou’ll have to do the rest
\nBut to thank you for your kind attention, we’ve brought you a treat
\nAnd we wish you all the best.<\/p>\n
(Here is where we bribe the class and hand out real cookies)<\/p>\n
This odd hybrid of Tuesdays with Morrie and Dr. Suess has it’s first and only showing tomorrow at 10:30. Wish me luck!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It is late. I am fried I am usually a littel better about keeping on top of things, so that at the end of the semester, I am NOT fried. But I won all these contest and had DUTIES to … Continue reading