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Showing posts from July, 2011

What I Would Say

       It had been a long morning. Linen changes are linen changes, but linen changes in the summer heat of Missouri. Well, that's another thing. After a a whole summer, I have come to accept it with a smile.      Anyway, my last linen change that day was in the motel. The linen combination for the motel room is very simple: 4-4-1. I grabbed four towels and four washcloths, swung a bathmat over my shoulder, and headed to the room at the other end of the motel from where I was: Room 201.       I rapped my knuckles on the door and called out, "Housekeeping." No response. I pushed my key in the lock. It wouldn't turn. I tried again. It still wouldn't turn. Finally, I jiggled the key, pulled it a centimeter out of the lock, and turned it. Success. I kicked the door as I turned it (most of the doors at this camp respond very well to kicking, I've noticed) and began changing the towels.      The door opened when I was halfway through my work. I turned to see a yo

I Do Not Want To Be Mrs. Paddy

"I hate everything in the world!"        These are the words of Mrs. Paddy, a character in the play The Curious Savage . Mrs. Paddy is a very interesting woman. She gives up electricity for Lent, and likes to paint seascapes, even though she's never been to the sea. The most important thing to remember about her, though, is that she hates everything. Throughout the play she stands up to loudly declare, "I hate everything in the world..." followed by a lengthy list of everything she hates. Every time she stands up to spew forth her hatred everyone in the room ducks for cover. I don't blame them.        I am terrified that I will become Mrs. Paddy. It seems everyday I find something new to dislike. I hit my hand several times while I was making beds today. Guess what I hated? The beds. The other day I hated the heat. A few weeks ago I hated the music on the radio. And everyday I declare my dislike for the food here. More than that, I find myself hating p

15 Books I Like

*Note- The books on this list are not listed in order of importance. Also, if you read any of these books, do not like them, and want to have an argument (ahem) discussion about it, by all means let me know. I will willingly argue (ahem) discuss the merits of any of these books. 1) Goose Girl by Shannon Hale- I have read a lot of fairy tale "rewrites", but this one is definitely one of the best in the genre. Every person I have ever given it to loved it (except for my Mom, who doesn't really like fantasy) 2) The Pianist- I like this because it is true, and very sad to read.  3) On Writing Well by William Zinsser- If it is possible to be in love with a "how to" book, I am in love with this one. 4) A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini- I like this book because it shows beauty and perseverance in the midst of adversity. 5) The Chosen by Chaim Potok- Nothing really happens in this book, and yet so much happens. Potok is a master at creating tension

Homesickness

       At home, we lived in our bathing suits during the summer, and stood dripping at the door every evening during the school year. Swimming was like singing: we did it frequently and we had fun doing it. I can still remember the way my right foot always curved over the corner of the boat dock just before I dove into the coffee black water.        Because we lived twenty miles away from the river port city of Manaus, we saw huge ships coming and going nearly every day. I remember floating on my back at sunset when the water was still and smooth. Underwater, I heard the distant churning and whirring of a ship's motor. I sat up, and looked downriver. There, cutting across the water was a ship loaded with boxes and crates. Where it was from did not matter. What mattered was how big the waves were going to be when they reached our side of the river. When I was younger, I was sometimes afraid of the waves. I thought that the waves would keep coming and I would not be strong enough to