Friday, December 10, 2010


I love my job. And when I say love, I mean absolutely adore with all that is in me.
I know, I know. It's strange. Most people appreciate their job at the very best, while the rest of them just do it because it's work. But I do my job because I want too and I enjoy it.
Part of it is the work its self. Video games are something I care about, and have a pretty good knowledge of, so GameStop is a good match for me. I love helping people find a new game, and discussing previous games with them. I love helping them decide on a new system, finding the one that will fit their needs. I love helping lost family members who don't know what to buy, but know they need to buy something. It makes me happy to know that they're happy with the purchase they make.
I love sharing the PowerUp program with people. Regular customers really benefit from it, and it allows us to know what games they have bought previously, so we can help them choose ones they liked. It also gives me something to talk about with them, from the GameInformer magazine. We can discuss the latest article and how much we agree or disagree, and we can just generally have a good time.
The other part that I love is the people who I work with. My managers are wonderful people, who really want us all to have a good time while we're working. We joke around and poke fun at one another, while being productive at the same time. Over the past few months we've all gotten to know each other and know that we all really enjoy being with one another, and working together. Every place of employment has a few duds, but we look past those and just generally have fun.
I look forward to working, and am legitimately sad when I have to ask off or call in. I really don't know anyone else who can say that.

Friday, December 3, 2010

The sun has set.

Sometimes, life is tough. Like, not just "oh, this piece of meat is tough to chew, tough," but gut wrenchingly, heart breakingly  tough. Sometimes, it's all we cal do to get through the day.
Yesterday was one of those days.
For the past six weeks or so, I have been taking my Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA) classes. They are long, boring classes and we have been learning how to take care of people in assisted living facilites. Last night, we went to our first night of clinicals.
In the time I was there, my partner and I were assigned to 3 people. The first thing we did for all three of them was shower them. Next we took them to the dining room to eat, and then got ready for bed, taking their vital signs as we went. Along the course of the evening, we were caring for various other people as well, anyone who needed us basically. In all essence we had become the assistants for the assistants, if that makes any sense.
When we first arrived, it was around 3. In our area, the sun is beginning to set around 4 at this time of the year. For anyone not familiar with nursing homes, let me give you a little rundown of sundowning. People don't like being in nursing homes. They are stripped of all dignity and freedom, left to rot by their families. Many of them become confused after they have been there for a while, and are not 100% sure where they are. Around sundown, those who are confused or just plain ornery will sundown. They become the most aggressive, the most active, the most difficult that they are all day. Many start screaming for help, and the others just become completely unresponsive.
While we were there, before we had really gotten the chance to do much of anything, a woman wheeled her way down the hallway at us, screaming for help. She had to go home and make dinner, for her husband. Me and the girl I am partnered with just stood there. We didn't know what to do, how to respond. Thankfully one of the employees came to our rescue, and quietly explained that her family knew she was there and she would be staying in the room they had prepared for her tonight. After much fighting, the woman settled down some and headed back to the lobby. The worker gave us a sad look and explained that her husband used to take care of her, but he passed away. At this point, I was already ready to burst into tears.

I can't even continue about the rest of it. All I can think at this point is that I have 10 more hours to go, and I'm not sure if I will make it.

Thursday, December 2, 2010


Currently in one of my English classes, we are studying Romantic poetry. I enjoy poerty greatly, it is one of the few things I can analyze very well. In our study, though, we spent a little time on discussing the connotation of "Romantic" today.

In our modern society, we see Romantic to man a few, very wrong, things. The most popular is something relation to love or lust. You go on a date, the boy brings you flowers, there's your romance. You woo someone with candy, how romantic. Wrong. Second, we associate it with someone who is foolishly hopeful. "She's got this romantic notion that they will win this ball game." Or, maybe, just someone who aspires for a greatness they will likely never achieve. I have a friend who desires to be president one day (that's Mr. President to you) and many think him "foolishly romantic" for it. The other way we percieve romance is through $.99 paper backs you can buy at the gas station. These raunchy novels, full of sex and lust, are the closest thing we have to understanding "Romantic Literature".

But really, Romantic literature is so much more than that. It does more than these cheap paperbacks do. It aspired to change something. They desired to change the world they lived in, from the poor inner city living conditions to the overthrowing of the monarchies of the time. They imagined a new world, one with a free spirit and a happy population, and wrote about it. They didn't use their logic to make people see the errors of their way. They used their imagination to smile and see the world as it should be, not as it was. They weren't foolish, they weren't naive, they were just optimistic. They used what they had to change the world.

In the end, that is what literature is. It is someone, with a pen and paper, trying to change their society. From what they feel and what the imagine, they want to make a difference in the world around them.This is what literature, true literature, does. It changes things.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


I am often found at a loss for words when I have to speak of Nicaragua. I do not know where to begin, there is just too much. In September I spent a week in the village of El Carmen, Nicaragua, helping a team of missionaries conduct a medical clinic. This village had nothing but the school compound and a small church in it, though I heard rumors there was a small family restaurant somewhere close by. I did not realize how much one week could change someone’s life, until I spent a week with these people.

The first thing that people always ask is about the conditions that we stayed in, and I’m going to be frank about this: They were awful. Plain and simple. We crammed about 25 women into this little church, mattresses, suitcases and all, and attempted to live for a week. I was told by some of the veteran missionaries that this was the worst they had ever had it. The whole bathing thing was also a little difficult. They don’t have running water out in the jungle (I don’t know why people are surprised when I say that), so they always have to improvise. What they do is get some barrels, attach a few water hoses and drape them over a metal box. Presto, you have a shower. For whatever reason, though, they decided the morning that everyone wanted a shower, to stop working. I had already been two days without a shower, and I had another one to go before I would get one. Let me tell you something, though. That was the best shower I have ever taken. Hands down. After 3 days of sweating a dirt and people who have nothing but dirt floors and leaves for roofs, that shower was the best thing I had ever done.
Another thing people are often curious about is the food. What did I eat while I was there? Well, I want to first inform you that I did NOT eat any of the food from Nicaragua, unless it was factory made. It is a third-world country, nothing is safe to eat. We brought our own cooking team and water and prepared all of our own meals. Actually, I ate so much that week that I gained weight. Which, looking back on it, is astounding. There is no way I was able to eat that much all in one week. The food was delicious, and I was burning so many calories from the heat and the mud that I needed the extra ones.
Speaking of which, I have never experienced such mud in my entire life. It started raining when we got there and did not stop until sometime much after we left. In fact, I'm pretty sure it will never stop raining there for any reason what-so-ever. It will continue to rain for the rest of eternity. Judging the amount of mud that was there when we arrived, it had already been raining that long. At one point, I stepped on a spot that looked solid and sank through up to the very top of my rain boot. I was very lucky water did not start rushing into my boot at that point, I probably would have grown some sort of foot fungus.
I think, at this point, I will end this post as well. It has given you some idea of the conditions of that week, and I will continue to speak of it in the months to come, I am sure.