Is one enough for you?

Adorable, yea?

Today in my World Regional Geography class, we watched three videos about China's One Child Policy. Then we answered questions and discussed the videos. Normally this class is pretty mild and lacking in discussion, but one girl spoke up today. She spoke up and made me angry. Almost as angry as Sarah Palin makes me. A bit of background information for you:
A brief overview of China's One Child Policy:
1. Urban dwellers may have only one child.
2. Rural dwellers may have two children if the first is a girl.
3. Ethnic minorities may have as many children as they like.
4. The Chinese government takes back the money they provided for the first child if you have an additional child.

Why was the One Child Policy enacted?
China is the world's most populous country with approximately 1.3 billion people. They were growing so rapidly the government would not be able to accommodate the entire population, so Deng Xiaoping put the policy into place in 1979. The policy worked, reducing China's population growth by 300 million in the first twenty years.

Negative effects of the One Child Policy:
Uneven ratio of males to females: For every 100 female births, there are 120 male births. Normally, there are 105 males for every 100 females. Gender selective abortion: Many parents will abort their pregnancies when they discover the sex of the child is female because so much prestige is associate with producing a male heir in China.
Abandonment and Neglect: Many newborns, often girls, are abandoned shortly after birth, and some are simply neglected. Infanticide: Some babies, again often girls, are killed at birth.

Now this girl asked, "Why do they do it? Why do they have more than one child when they know they aren't supposed to?" I thought the answer was obvious: Because they want more children. Why does anyone have more than one child? There's a void that needs to be filled. The family is not complete. The professor gave a neutral answer about having a boy and prestige, and she responded, "No, that's stupid. You had your chance. You screwed it up." At this point, I wondered how someone could be so close-minded and cold. She continued to try to prove her point, and I quit listening.

People break this law and pay the consequences because the want a family. One woman interviewed in a video had a son as her first born. She said she wanted a girl very badly, so they had another child, a girl. She then got pregnant by mistake. She tried to abort, but they wouldn't allow it. She planned to give the baby up for adoption, but she said "he was too cute." (I shuddered a bit at how easily she was willing to kill and/or abandon her child.) The point is she felt it was necessary to have those children.

I wanted to shout at this girl. I wanted to ask her if she had siblings and if she felt her life and family would've been the same without them. I wanted to ask her how she would feel if her parents had abandoned her because of her gender. I wanted to ask if she was the first born, and tell her if she wasn't she probably wouldn't have existed in China.

I could not imagine life without my siblings. I am the third child, an accident. My sister came first followed by my brother. In China, I probably would not have been born or kept.

My sister has three sons she loves very much, but she longs for a little girl so her family can feel complete. She is in the process of adopting from China.

I can understand why China needs this policy, and that doesn't bother me much. What I hate are all the negative effects, which in my opinion, almost outweigh the benefits of the policy.

What do you think?

Weighted Material

I have struggled with my weight since I was a child. I'm not obese by any means, but I am overweight. I try to be healthier and work toward a less overweight body, but it's easy to get bogged down in your flaws. Don't get me wrong, I love my body. It's always been there for me, (har har) but I have a hard time accepting it and all its features.

I remember being in the third grade, and my mother found the cutest little sleeveless, collared shirt for me to wear on the first day of school. In true 90s fashion, it tied in the front below the buttons. It showed the tiniest sliver of midriff, but in third grade, I was still 'skinny.' I was cute.

The next year, I seemed to gain some weight. That year marked the start of my 'not skinny' life. It seemed the older I got, the more I seemed to notice my belly. I quit growing taller in the sixth grade, but my weight continued to climb.

In junior high, the boys began to notice the girls. The 'skinny' girls were described as "hot" while us 'not skinny' girls weren't noticed at all. It was at this point I began to associate skinny with pretty.

My mother, though I love her to death, contributed to my negative image. When I posed for a picture, she'd always say, "Suck your stomach in!" When I got older and wanted to wear more tightly fitted clothing, she'd either veto it, or if I got the tighter shirt, she'd insist I "ruche" it to help hide my stomach. Her body image was negative, too. She was always buying exercise tapes and machines and diet books. She had one diet she'd turn to if she was desperate to lose weight: The Grapefruit Diet. It consisted of grapefruit, eggs, tuna patties, and very little else. I always hated that diet because the tuna patties smelled horrible, and the grapefruits would squirt me across the table at breakfast.

My dad and brother could be particularly mean about my weight, though both of them were (and still are) much more overweight than I was. I used to eat Swiss Cake Rolls at lunch, and one day, my brother took the box, marked out "Swiss" and "Cake," and edited it so it read "Katie's Fat Rolls." I quit eating them, and I eat them today very rarely and with great trepidation. If I ever complained about my weight in front of my dad, he'd just tell me to 'back away from the table.'

It seemed all I could do in high school was gain weight. Once I quit dancing in 10th grade, I put on weight pretty quickly. I also gave up softball. I stayed in band, but let's face it: Playing the saxophone just doesn't melt away your thunder thighs. I had no regular physical activity, and it showed. Each year's first day of school picture features a chunkier Katie.

There were times during my junior and senior years of high school that I very seriously considered trying bulemia. In the end, I decided 1) I hated throwing up, 2) I liked my teeth and esophagus in tact, and 3) an eating disorder was not the way to solve my body image issues. (I did try exercise multiple times, but I would get bored with it and quit. I even joined a gym and went regularly for a while.)

Last year, my senior year, I put on A LOT of weight between October and January. I was so incredibly stressed about college, school, band, and work that it piled up on me and I ended up close to 160 pounds (which is a pretty heavy for a five foot tall 17 year old). That weight didn't come off when I released the stress unfortunately. Over the summer, I learned to accept my body and even wore a two-piece swimsuit in public, a first for me.

Then I went to college. I suppose it was a combination of less food (because I hate the Caf) and a ton of walking, especially up stairs, but I've lost a fair amount of weight since August 16th. I can now dry my jeans in the dryer without fear of them being too tight. I can fit into pants I never thought I'd get into. I even tried on my prom dress the other day to find it zipped with ease and was even a bit baggy in parts. I'm glad I'm avoiding the "Freshman Fifteen."

Along with being a bit slimmer, my stamina is improving. I can climb two flights of stairs without getting winded. My goal for the semester is to make it up those three flights of library stairs (which are much more numerous than other flights of stairs because of the library's uber tall ceilings) without wheezing afterward.

I find that while I am excited and giddy about losing weight/inches, I seem to notice my flaws more. My large thighs that I've long since accepted grabbed my attention in the shower today, and I was disgusted by the way they shook a bit when I moved my leg. I change clothes several times in the morning trying to find something that doesn't make me look "fat." I put on last year's Halloween costume in hopes of wearing it again, and I couldn't stand it. I know I had to look worse in it last year, and that bothers me.

When I left for college, I had a great body image. I had no qualms about my weight until it started decreasing. Suddenly I'm aware of everything that is wrong with it. I need to get things right with my body again. I need to learn to accept my changing body, both the parts I like and dislike.

Win a Free Handbag!

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Smoking: Keep it to yourself.

When I arrived at college, I realized tons of people smoke. I'll admit I've been pretty sheltered from the habit my whole life. When I was young, my parents both smoked, but they gave it up when I was about seven or eight, so I don't remember breathing skanky air. Various family members smoked at family gatherings, but it was easy enough to escape before I gagged. Smoking was not something I dealt with every day; I went to school, work, and home, and none of these places had smoke/smokers/smoking.

Then I moved to college, and BLAM! Smokers everywhere! Generalization for the day: Everyone smokes in college. Smoking is so common that my dorm has a "smoking tree" under which people gather to smoke. At my school, you're not allowed to smoke within twenty-five feet of a building's entrance, but this rule is blatantly ignored.

One building has a lovely shade-providing awning, a quaint little bench, and a trashcan outside one of the doors. If you think this is a place to relax between classes and maybe have a snack, you are wrong. This is obviously a place for smokers to hang out, talk, and gag people with their disgusting habit. Nevermind they're withing FIVE feet of the building's entrance; that's their smoking cove. I have to enter through this door three times a week, and each time there are at least three people polluting my air.

One day, there were three faculty members smoking near the door, and they were so engrossed in their smoking chat, they couldn't hear me say a polite 'Excuse me.' while trying not to inhale. The smoke around that area is so thick, I have to hold my breath. Random fact about me: I suck at holding my breath. I think it was my downfall in swimming lessons. ("Dead Man's Float, everyone! Hold your breath and float on your stomach!" "O_O But I'll die!") The only positive thing about this situation is how much I've learned to appreciate clean, unpolluted air.

I may sound whiney, but I don't feel I should be subjected to unnecessarily skanky air just because some cannot follow rules. Why would you want to smoke anyway? It's bad for your teeth, bad for lungs, and bad for your face. I don't know how many times I've seen an attractive guy on campus only to be disappointed by a cigarette in his hand. Smoking is a turn-off, a deal-breaker.

Think of yourself, and don't smoke. If you must smoke, think of others and keep it to yourself.

Concerns of a College Freshman

Have you ever made a life decision then questioned your choice later? I have, and it's eating away at me.

Why did I choose this college? Why did I think this was the right choice? I remember saying something to my mother about it "just feeling right," but I don't know how true that is now. I'm three and a half hours from home. I don't have any friends, and I'm not making much progress in the way of friend making. I get incredibly lonely sometimes.

For as long as I can remember, I've had this drive to be independent. If I had money, I wanted to buy my own things. I loved having a driver's license because I didn't have to depend and rely on other people to take me places. I liked having a job because it gave me a sense of purpose. It provided me with money, and money is very important for independence.

So why am I having such a hard time at school if I'm so independent? Because being independent doesn't mean being a hermit, and that's what I've become. A hermit. I go to class, and I go to my dorm. I refuse to eat in the Caf because I'd have to eat alone. I have acquaintances, but that's all they are. People in my classes who know my name and vice versa.

Why didn't I go to the college less than a half hour away from home? The college where all my friends are? I don't know. For whatever reason, I felt it was "too close." I can't tell you know why I thought that or why I felt I needed to get away from home. What's wrong with home? It's familiar, it's warm and welcoming, and people love you there. Why would you want to leave that? Adventure? Sure. We'll say it was my sense of adventure that had me traipsing to a school 200 miles away.

I love to travel. I've been to seven countries and twenty-something states. I love learning about new places, experiencing new cultures. I went to Europe with a group of people from my school, and it was great. I didn't get homesick. I had a great time. I thought, 'College won't be that bad. I'll be much closer to home.' I've always wanted a career involving travel and maybe living overseas. Now I'm questioning my ability to do that. Could I handle living in another country by myself? Can I be that far from home for that long? What if I limit myself because I'm not independent enough? All these questions are floating around in my head as I'm trying to balance classes, homework, and keeping in touch at home.

In high school, I knew tons of people because we went to school together for YEARS. I miss seeing familiar faces and casually saying 'Hi!' on my way to class. I miss band. I don't necessarily miss playing music, but I miss the camaraderie. I was the president, so people looked to me for answers. I was a 'smart kid,' so people looked to me for answers. I was a good friend (I think), so people looked to me for answers. Maybe part of what I miss is being depended on.

There are many things I like about my college. I like the classes. I like the professors. I like the campus and the town. I just think I'd like it better if I didn't feel so alone all the time. I have hard time letting myself feel this way. My independence complex wants me to push these feelings aside and 'man up.' I've done well so far. I've only had one emotional breakdown. I had a friend ask me if I'd transfer at semester. I told him no. Why? Because I'm stubborn. This is the choice I made, and for now, anyway, this is the choice I live with.

Again I ask you readers, have you ever made a life decision then questioned your choice later?

Oh dear.

I've just had a sudden realization. The past few days I've been experiencing headaches. They've not been too terrible, and I've just been banishing them with ibuprofen, but still, there was no reason for them.

I sat at my desk, doing homework and drinking a bottle of water when I realized, I haven't made tea in about three or four days. The pitcher ran out, and I found myself content with water, so I didn't bother making it. Besides, the cup and a half of sugar I add to the tea is probably not too healthy for me. I hadn't made coffee in at least five or six days because the mug was dirty, and it was a mess to deal with the coffee grounds. I haven't had a soda in over a week. My supply ran dry, and I'm too cheap to buy more. Also, I have a tendency to go overboard when it comes to soda. I don't really know when to stop.

So, as I was drinking my water, I thought about my headaches. It was then that I figured out they were CAFFEINE HEADACHES. Because I haven't had caffeine in days! I'm not sure this has every happened to me before. In fact, I probably wouldn't have even thought about it if I hadn't run out of bottled water and brewed some tea (though I've yet to make it).

So maybe I should just drink my tea in moderation? Try not to drink the entire gallon in twenty-four hours? Wish me luck. I'll give it a shot. Maybe if I mix water in my beverage cycle, I won't be tempted to sit around drinking tea all the time because that's what I normally do.

This has been a weird blogging session. I mean, really, it just bowled me over that I had caffeine headaches. I've only ever had a caffeine headache one other time in my life. Normally, I have a streaming supply of tea or soda. Hmm. I'll keep the water drinking up and see where this gets me.

SEVEN DAYS

I thought you all would like to know that I'm one week from being legal. :D

COLLEGE

My classes are fairly easy so far.

I have Spanish four days a week with an awesome 60 year old Cuban man who likes to say 'hell' a lot. In the first five minutes of class last week, he made a racist joke. He looked out the window at the rain and said, "On a day like this, we're all wetbacks, huh?" Needless to say, he's very entertaining, and I feel like I'm getting my money's worth with this class. The homework is just a bit time consuming.

I also have calculus four days a week. I originally thought this professor was going to be very boring, but he does seem to have a bit of life in him. The material isn't terribly difficult yet. A lot of engineering, pre-med, and pre-pharmacy majors are in that class. The engineering majors are cocky, but they've got nothing about which to be cocky. They're not any smarter than the rest of us. I heard one guy say this today: "If anything is going to keep me from getting my degree in four years, it's going to be that class." I laughed.

I only have geography three times a week, and right now we're just taking notes over basic things. I think I'll enjoy it more when we get into the actual subject. The instructor is very passionate about what he teaches, so it makes the class interesting.

My least favorite class so far is physical science. The man teaching it is beyond boring. He makes jokes only he and the twitchy boy on the front row find funny. He repeats himself constantly. He's also apparently from somewhere other than the South because he asked, "What do you guys call it, pop or soda? Or do you just call everything Coke?" I really hate that. Just pick one. We'll know what you mean. That's not even relevant to the subject. Talk about science. It's a really easy class, too, so that just adds to my boredom.

I have an "Orientation to University" class tomorrow that I've yet to go to. I think it's going to be lame. I also have to go to Spanish lab once a week, and that just happens to be tomorrow, too. On Thursdays, I have a two hour physical science lab, but I haven't been to it yet either.

The cafeteria food is decent. The dorm still sucks, but I'll deal. My roommate and I don't talk. She's actually speaking rapid Japanese to someone on Skype right now. It's kinda cool. Oh, and I hate laundry. :)

SO MUCH CONTENT

I have to blog about so many things. First, Breaking Dawn and its many disappointments. Next, the utterly heart-wrenching news that Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince won't be released until July 2009. And finally, I moved into my dorm. :)

1.

Early this summer I began the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I resisted reading it tooth and nail, but ultimately, I caved. I couldn't put the first three books down! I recommend them to everyone. They're great. Now, keep in mind I waited a good two and a half to three months for the fourth and final book to be released, and I drove thirty minutes to a Barnes and Noble midnight release party after working seven hours at that horrible grocery store, all for this book. I had to keep myself from trying to read it on the way home. Then, finally, I was home, and I started reading it. Then something horrible happened. I put it down. And went to sleep. And it didn't bother me.

BEYOND THIS ARE SPOILERS FOR THE FINAL BOOK IN THE TWILIGHT SERIES, BREAKING DAWN.

I'll be brief with my outrage. First of all, she got pregnant?! What is THAT?! It's ridiculous; that's what it is. Then she names it RENESMEE? That's a horrible name. And they call her NESSIE? That's even a horrible nickname. And Jacob IMPRINTS with her?! That is too cliche and fluffy. Then, suddenly, Volturi show up, Bella has super self-control powers that deter the Volturi, and THEY JUST WALK AWAY. THE VOLTURI JUST WALKED AWAY. They're vampires! Where was the epic vampire battle I craved?! In my imagination because THE VOLTURI WALKED AWAY. Everyone lived happily ever after. ONE vampire died. ONE. Irina. One that didn't even matter because she was from Tanya's coven. By the way, I could've used more Edward in the book, Stephenie. Ugh. I'm done with that.

2.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince's movie release date has been moved from November 22, 2008 to JULY 17, 2009! What is this madness? I don't care how many reasons they have for postponing the release date; I'm upset. I had my heart set on Harry Potter in November, and now the only theatrical experience I have to look forward to is the Twilight movie, which I'm not expecting to be amazing. I'm not even going to write any more about this because it bothers me so much that my words would become mere fragments of what I wanted to say due to rage.

3.

So, I'm all moved in, unpacked, and I live in a dorm room now. A crappy dorm room, but a dorm room nonetheless. Anything painted, including cabinets, shelves, and a corkboard-like thing, is two-toned and peeling. Underneath is a pomegranate color covered by a mint green. It's weird, and a bit gross looking. I disinfected everything. The mattress was disgusting. Stains and all sorts of nasty stuff. It does look much better now that my stuff is all in though. Although there are community showers, there are wide stalls in which to take them, and it's relatively comfortable. I do wish I had more pictures though. That corkboard-like thing is empty, but I have some cute star pushpins when I DO get pictures. I'll post some pictures later. It doesn't look THAT bad. :)

Evening Naps and Bugs Bunny

So, my sleep pattern is all jacked up. I went to bed between 3 and 3:30 this morning, and woke up at 2 this afternoon. I piddled around the house and ran some errands, but by 7, I was ready for a nap. I think there's something wrong with me. I obviously can't go back to sleep now, so here I am, blogging

I've got to work at 10 in the morning, and rather than go to sleep at a semi-decent hour, I'll just be a zombie at work. ^_^

So, during my nap, I had the weirdest dream ever, and I'm going to type all out here before I forget it. It was that good. Have you ever watched a Bugs Bunny cartoon? It'll be involving him. And a cult. And Wal-Mart.

The dream opens with Bugs Bunny in a trenchcoat walking around all sneaky-like. Suddenly, there are TONS of Bugs Bunnies! They start doing all these crazy flips and insane jumps, like skipping three rooftops and crashing through windows. It was like they had some sort of freaky, weird, super strength, and I was one of them. Weird, right?

So all of us Bugs Bunnies meet at Wal-Mart, but not out in the open...well, sort of. We're in one of the little cut-outs at the front of the store where they put clearance items, arcades, and salons, but it's full of shelves and empty of people, save for us. And we're all lounging around talking with each other when the "Big Guy" walks in. He's a normal man, as normal as you can get with a trenchcoat, hat, and mysteriously green hand. I'm not sure whether the green hand was some sort of fungus, disease, or if he was just a really great gardener.

Suddenly, I look around, and we're all back to our normal human selves, in normal human clothes, but I don't recognize anyone. And everyone is freaking out about the guy at the front of the cut-out. He's not dead, but he's close to it. So the plan is the "Big Guy" (whose name, I think, was actually Bugsy O_o) is going to shoot and kill him. Everyone's really excited about it, but I'm confused. I don't know why this guy needs to die, and I have this weird feeling I won't be living long either.

Then someone starts passing out slips of paper with our names printed on them, which we are intended to sign. There are two names per slip. Some girl and I get our slip, and she signs, but I notice my name is spelled all wrong, like Kaityli, or something stupid like that. So I say, "I can't sign this. My name is spelled wrong. This is horrible." And then Bugsy comes up and he says, "What's the problem here?" I continue to protest, "My name is spelled wrong, and I just can't sign it if my name is spelled wrong. I understand I write my name like three different ways, not to mention there's Katelyn, but still, my name is all wrong. I just can't sign it. Can we fix it?" Surprisingly, Bugsy is really understanding and says, "Yea, we'll fix it later." And I agree, "Okay. I'll just sign it later then."

BUT I had no intentions of signing it later. I knew if I signed it, I'd be signing away my life, giving Bugsy permission to kill me. I don't know how I knew this, I just did. So I continue to mill around with my companions but with a heavy heart. I know they're all about to be killed, and I can't do anything about it. I don't know who will out me if I tell, and I don't know who my friends are. So I'm being all dodgy, looking for a way out, and Bugsy's looking at me funny, so I realize I need to be more low key.

Then I recognize someone! It's a guy with whom I graduated, and we were friends in high school. (Keep in mind this is a dream, logic is not prevalent.) My initial thoughts are, "I'm could be about to die, and he is definitely going to die. I need to kiss him." So I walk over to him, reach up to grab his face (because he IS rather tall, even in a dream), and realize I've got bad breath.

And of course there's a sink nearby full of toothpaste and toothbrushes and other hygiene products. I briefly considered shaving my tongue with a razor to remove the plaque, but that seems hazardous, even in a dream, and I don't know which toothbrush is mine, and my conscious germaphobe would not approve of random toothbrush using, so I opt for some toothpaste on my hands, swiping at my plaque-ridden tongue.

Once again, I realize Bugsy is staring at me. I mumble something about bad breath and walk back to my place as the killing of the random guy is supposedly about to commence, although I know he's actually going to kill us. I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to kiss the guy because I couldn't throw caution to the wind and deal with bad breath, but with death imminently around the corner, I decide there are bigger fish to fry.

I check my escape route again. I look at Bugsy. He's talking, but I'm not listening intently like my comrades. He notices me looking out into the Wal-Mart crowd (who somehow don't see us though we're in plain sight). I stare at him with wide eyes. He pulls his gun, aiming at me. I bolt.
I sprint through Wal-Mart, busting through racks of clothes and cards and bleach. I look at my feet; I'm Bugs Bunny again. I hear them chase after me, but I know they're no match for me. I'm too fast. They'll never catch me.

Confident in my ability to run and live, I wake up.

New Haircut!

I got my hair cut today. I like it. My hair was getting long and unmanageable. The week before I leave for school, I'm putting in red highlights. :)

Novel Aspirations

I'm writing a novel. Right now. I just finished the prologue. I'm pretty excited about it. If you ask nicely, I might let you read it.

A Quick Thought

Oh, no June post, how sad. I'm a pathetic blogger.

Anyway:

Why is it that toilet paper is much less absorbent when used to dry your hands than it is when used for its designated purpose?

Discuss.

Graduation

Well, last week I completed a chapter in my life: The High School Chapter. I graduated. Third in my class, mind you. (That was a shameless plug for my accomplishments. ;] ) It was exhilirating. As we walked in to Pomp and Circumstance, I couldn't stop smiling. It sounds ridiculous, and I'm sure I had a stupid looking grin plastered on my face, but I couldn't stop it. I suppose that's my topic: The effect graduation has on people.

While I was happy, nay, THRILLED, to be graduating, many were sad. I never understood that. Why would you be sad to leave the muck-pit that is high school? Albeit, I had some good times there, but really, most of my memories consist of unfair teachers, hard tests, and exhaustion (which I admit may have been my own fault due to procrastination).

Unlike others, I did not associate high school with friends. I spent more time with my friends outside of school than I did in school. I associate high school with the select few teachers I hate, horrible AP exams, last minute research papers, and annoying peers. Maybe I'm just a pessimist.

But we all counted down the days to graduation, didn't we? Weren't we all excited as we could be as it approached? Didn't we complain about how much earlier Tech got out of school than we did and how they graduated before us? But if I knew you all were going to cry at graduation, I would've called you out on for hypocrites back in January.

Maybe you crybabies are associating high school with what I am not: Happiness, friends, dances, and the like.

In all honesty, I thought I would cry at graduation. I thought I would boohoo when I played my final song with the band. I thought, maybe, if the speeches were moving enough, I would cry. (Ha.) I thought I might cry when I began hugging all the friends I would probably never see again afterwards. But I was wrong.

Many emotions coursed through my body when I walked out onto the Convocation Center floor, but sadness was not present. I felt no longing to remain in high school. I was excited that the moment was finally there. I was happy high school was over. I was proud to be third in the class. I was glad my family was there, that they took up a whole row of seating and then some, that they rang cowbells and made a racket when my name was called. I was proud to be a part of the band as we played our graduation song. And finally, I was bewildered by trying to find and say goodbye to everyone after the commencement.

Never, in that whole ordeal, did I feel sad. I did not shed a tear. My eyes did not even water.

You and your friends are not part of high school. High school is part of your life and your friends' lives. Your friends, if they are true, will be around after high school. If they mean enough to you, you'll keep in touch. Friends are no reason to be sad at graduation. Friendship does not end with a commencement ceremony. Friendship ends when you refuse to fuel it.

Graduation should be a happy time, so let it be.

Finally, an update!

Today, technically, my mom and I will be test driving cars. We're going to drive anything that's relatively small, cheap, and gets good gas mileage. I have a feeling we'll probably pick the Kia. Later in the day, I'll be doing my friend Kelsey's hair, as her boyfriend's prom is tomorrow. I hope it turns out okay; I'm a little nervous. I'll probably go into work immediately after that for another wonderfully busy Saturday at that horrible grocery store. There's your update. I'm tired.

Goodnight,
Katie

Tornadoes and Tomatoes

I challenge anyone reading this blog to go to their local grocery store, find the produce cooler, and spend fifteen to twenty minutes in it with about ten other people you don't know, all while trying to control a splitting headache.

'Cause that's what I did tonight. And it sucked. I work at the local Country Mart, and we had tornado warnings in our county. We shut off the doors, made an announcement on the intercom, and headed back to the corner of the store. In my company were two small children, and only one of which cried, surprisingly briefly at that. Also, there were three whiny old women who just wanted to get their groceries and leave and were very dismayed that we refused to check them out while a tornado threatened to ravish the store around us. Other miscellaneous people who wisely chose to keep their mouths shut were also present. We walked back and forth three times to that cooler until the store manager finally deemed it was safe for us to stay up front. No damage to the store, but some nearby trees blew down, as well as a bank sign that I have yet to see.
As you may have guessed, the store died after the storm. (This is not counting the half hour I spent after the storm answering the phone calls of worried parents, concerned relatives, and interested employees, probably hoping the store was blown away so they wouldn't have to come in.) Probably about 5-8 people came in between 7 and 10. And don't tell my boss, but we closed about ten minutes early.
I have refused to do my English homework tonight due to weather. I may regret this decision tomorrow, but hey, I'll deal.

Until tomorrow,
Katie

Here it is!

So, I got a little jealous of my sister's blog, and I made one of my own. My blog; however, will not be documenting the adoption of a new child or the hilarious exploits of children. You see, I am much younger than my sister. I am a senior in high school with a very opinionated mind. On this blog, I will post my opinions of what's going on around me, be it local or abroad. Be forewarned, my words are not always nice, but they are mostly true.