Hermione Granger Is Actually Matilda Wormwood and I Will Die on This Hill

Look, I’m not saying that J.K. Rowling and Roald Dahl conspired together in a secret underground British author bunker to craft the ultimate magical girl origin story, but... I’m also not not saying that.

Because once you actually look at the evidence...and I mean really look at it, like a conspiracy theorist squinting at red string on a corkboard while chugging a Capri Sun, the only logical conclusion is that Matilda Wormwood didn’t fade quietly into bookish obscurity. She just packed up her psychic lunchbox and became Hermione Granger.

Yes. That Hermione. Hogwarts Hermione. Time-Turner Hermione. “It’s Levi-O-sa, not Levio-SA” Hermione. Same person. Different haircut.

 

Exhibit A: Magic? Check. Childhood trauma? Double check.

Matilda Wormwood, a child so gifted she was basically born clutching a copy of War and Peace, develops the ability to move objects with her mind by age six. By the time she’s seven, she’s writing full sentences on chalkboards with telekinesis and orchestrating revenge like a tiny magical Batman.

Hermione Granger shows up to Hogwarts already knowing a whole semester’s worth of spells and has probably corrected every adult she’s ever met, including her pediatrician.

Two girls. Both British. Both absurdly gifted. Both treat books like oxygen. The only real difference is that Matilda used her powers to chuck chalk at tyrants, and Hermione used hers to roast Ron Weasley into a puddle of emotional jelly.

Exhibit B: Name changes and witness protection for child prodigies

At the end of Matilda, her parents (the Wormwoods, also known as the Discount Dursleys) flee the country like low-budget Bond villains, leaving Matilda to be adopted by Miss Honey, the only adult in the story with a functioning moral compass.

So what does Matilda do? Like any traumatized genius child, she reinvents herself. New name? Hermione Jean Honey. Sounds fancy. Later, when Miss Honey marries a dentist named Mr. Granger (yes, I'm inventing that part, but it tracks), Matilda takes on the last name Granger.

That’s right: Hermione isn’t Muggle-born. She’s trauma-born.

Exhibit C: The Squibspiracy

In Half-Blood Prince, Slughorn asks Hermione if she’s related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers (which sounds like the magical version of a wine club that takes itself very seriously). Hermione, ever the rule-follower, says no, because she’s Muggle-born.

WRONG.

She thinks she’s Muggle-born, but really, she’s descended from a long line of squibs. Those magical folks who can see all the cool wizard stuff but can’t do any of it, like tourists in Diagon Alley with no spending money.

Her birth parents? Classic squib energy. No magic, loads of denial. Probably repressed their family history so deep it’s buried under a pile of old mail and expired Wal-Mart coupons. Her Wormwood parents (those Discount Dursleys) were probably not even aware of their witchcraft background. Plus, they never confided anything of importance to her anyway. She really knew nothing about her genealogy. Matilda’s powers were the magical gene finally punching through the generational concrete like a tulip growing out of a manhole cover.

Exhibit D: Diagon Alley and How to Take Your Muggle for a Walk

You might be wondering: If Miss Honey was a Muggle, how did she take Hermione to Diagon Alley? Muggles can't get in.

Easy. Hogwarts has a Muggle escort protocol. It’s like Uber, but with more robes and less tipping. Professor McGonagall shows up, nods politely, and whisks the guardians and child through the Leaky Cauldron like it’s a field trip. Miss Honey doesn’t panic because she’s already seen Matilda turn a classroom into Carrie with better lighting.

This is canon now.

Exhibit E: Why Hermione Hates Divination (and Probably Dreamcatchers)

Remember how Hermione absolutely loathes Divination and storms out of Trelawney’s class like someone just insulted her Dewey Decimal System?

It’s not just because Divination is the magical equivalent of astrology filtered through a lava lamp. It’s because Hermione has trauma. Matilda grew up in a home where affection was rarer than a unicorn at a meat market. She survived Miss Trunchbull. She lived through the kind of childhood that turns therapists into millionaires.

So no, she doesn’t want to “unpack her dreams.” Her dreams probably involve flying blackboards and being called a “nasty little worm” by a linebacker in a girdle. Of course she prefers Arithmancy. Numbers don’t yell at you.

In Conclusion: Matilda Grew Up, Got a Wand, and No One Noticed

The math adds up. The metaphors are on fire. And the theory? Bulletproof.

Matilda Wormwood is Hermione Granger. She went from levitating chalk to leading Dumbledore’s Army. From toppling Trunchbull to time-traveling like it’s a group project.

If you still think they’re two different people, I’d like to see your Hogwarts letter. Or your therapist. Possibly both.

Want to argue with me? Fine. But remember: I have a bookshelf and a meme folder, and I’m not afraid to use either.

Accio truth bomb.

 

My 1st Book Review - ROYAL FLUSH

About a month ago, I received a Facebook message from a man named Scott Bartlett. He asked if I would be willing to be part of his blog tour to promote his new humor book Royal Flush.

Mr. Bartlett had...(wait a minute)...Mr. Bartlett? I don't speak that way. I'm going to call him Scott. He is not here to ask if it is okay to call him Scott, but it's my blog and I am more comfortable with Scott than Mr. Bartlett.

Scott had a couple of suggestions for how we could do this.

1. He could write a guest post recalling some of the struggles he has had with publishing companies and what he has gone through to get this book published. 
2. He could send me the book and I could write a review myself.

I advised him that I was not real big on the idea of handing my blog over to someone else. I am not at all ashamed of my narcissistic tendencies and use this blog to showcase my writing.

He stated he could send me the book and gave me the choice of the 27th or 29th for my review. I objected since it was already June 28th and did not think I would be able to finish it in time. He probably began to question his choice of reviewers when he had to point out to me that he meant the 29th of August (facepalm).

After reading the first chapter, I contacted Scott to let him know that I may not be the best person to review this book. I really wasn't enjoying it. To his credit, he responded that he would appreciate the review either way and would still hold up his end by pointing people toward my blog regardless of what I had to say about it.

Given the green light to say whatever I wanted, I felt some of the pressure of this assignment fall off my shoulders. This could be fun. I dove back into the book with renewed vigor.

Royal Flush is about a king who hates his job and the people in his kingdom. Since his constituents despise him even more, it is a mutual agreement. He even hates the man that appears to be his best friend, his fiddler. The fiddler hates the king even more and only sticks around because he needs a job and the king keeps him because he needs a fiddler.

This king is forced to ride a maniacal goat instead of a noble steed because the kingdom is in financial collapse. He executes or imprisons anyone who upsets him in any way. Near the beginning of the story, he has a girl thrown in the dungeon when his date with her was not going as well as he had hoped.

This miserable wretch of a king is harassed by the local media, despised by his own mother,  drunk most of the time, and is unable to even have a decent conversation with people. His ineptitude brings disaster upon himself and his castle, but since no one else really wants the job there is little hope of any improvement. Despite everything and having no discernible people skills, he is in search of love, sort of.

EXCERPT:

A trumpet sounded in the distance. The King looked up, unenthused. His interest grew when he discerned a flood of movement on the apex of Shepherd’s Hill. He squinted. A swarm of black-clad figures was cresting the summit, only to rush down the side nearest the King. It seemed to be some sort of a parade, or a marathon, or perhaps a…

(The King’s mouth fell open.)

…a vast host of armed warriors, dressed in the same uniform Private Reginald had worn.
The trumpet blared again, inspiring the King once more to scamper down the hallways. This time, he screamed uncontrollably.

“Your Majesty!” Frederick called as the King ran past the room in which he and Eliza cuddled. 

“Whatever is the matter?”

The King entered the room and paused to catch his breath, holding up a finger. Finally, he was ready.

“What is it?” Frederick said urgently.

The King’s brow furrowed. “I can’t remember.”

“Oh.”

“It can’t have been very important. I’ll let you know if I recall.” The King left the room again.

Frederick and Eliza returned to snuggling.

The King came barrelling back in. “I remember now!” he shrieked. “Invaders! Approaching the castle!”

Frederick jumped up. “Is the drawbridge closed?”

The King thought this over.

“No!”

“Then let’s go!” They dashed out of the room.

“Bring your fiddle!” said the King. They dashed back. Frederick tore open the case and extracted his instrument.

They dashed out again.

Downstairs, the attackers were already rushing into the entrance foyer.

“Hey!” Frederick shouted from the stairs, his voice cracking. The King cowered behind him. “Get out of here!” Frederick brandished the fiddle.

“Assail them!” ordered the King from over the fiddler’s shoulder.

By now completely pale, Frederick proceeded hesitantly down the staircase. “Hey!” he shouted again. He swung the instrument in a clumsy arc.

The black-uniformed soldiers drew up hastily. “Hold it, boys! He’s got a fiddle.”

“That’s right!” Frederick said.

“Is that a Stradivarius?” asked another soldier, who wielded a broadsword.

“Er, no,” the fiddler said. “It’s a replica.”

“Skillfully crafted, though,” said the swordsman. The invaders all agreed.

Another piped up. “Hey, now, you’re not going to hit us with that, are you?”

Frederick faltered.

“I’ve been thinking about it!”

“But you might damage it,” a thoughtful young corporal observed.

“That’s possible, yes.”

“You shouldn’t jeopardize a decent piece of equipment like that.”

“I’ve taken leave of my senses!” Frederick said, gaining momentum.

“Instruments like that are hard to come by nowadays.”

“I’ll just have to do without!” the fiddler said, a wild gleam in his eyes.

The soldiers muttered among themselves. “Bloody maniacal,” one said. “Not a shred of respect for good craftsmanship,” said another.

The corporal cleared his throat. “If you’re not going to be reasonable, then we’ll have to. Come on, men. We’ll find another way in. On the double, now.”

The soldiers filed out in an orderly fashion. The King rushed up to the winch that controlled the drawbridge and cranked it for all his worth.

King and fiddler leaned panting against the blessedly vertical wooden plane.

“Play me a mournful tune,” the King requested.

Just like in this excerpt, the king is almost always in the midst of some degree of chaos that he brought on himself.

The further I read into the book the more I began to like it. Several times, my daughter would ask what I was laughing at. It was in those moments that I began to realize how much I was enjoying this book.

At first, I thought the story was too silly and it just seemed ridiculous, but once I let my guard down and simply sat back to read, I realized just how humorous it was. Scott Bartlett is a very funny writer and I highly recommend this book.

Favorite Line: They had both grown so used to being lonely they accidentally spent the rest of their lives in perpetual appreciation of one another. - Page 191


Not one of the funnier lines, but it connected with me. It reminded me of myself and Red, minus the lonely part. I even called her immediately to read her this line.


Note: This book will do nothing to promote intellectual stimulation, but supplies lots of laughs to the reader just looking for a fun book. Do we really need to be stimulated all the time? Get your mind out of the gutters...you know what I mean. I was just trying to make a point and you always have to make it dirty. Take the statement for what it is.

Click here for Scott Bartlett's site and more information on his book.

If you drop by his site, please drop him a note to let him know you came there from here. He might have to buy me a car or a house or a giant or something.

I'm Free

Less than 2 hours ago, I finished my last assignment for the semester. I now have one more semester behind me. I am not taking any summer classes this year, so I AM FREE for the next couple of months.

Because this was my last week of class, I did not make any trips out of town to see Red. As enamored (my daughter's word of choice) as I may be, I did have work I needed to get done. However, now that I am done, first things first. I will be seeing Red tomorrow.

I have many plans for the summer. A year ago, I wrote a post about this same topic. Their are some major differences between last year's post and this one. Last year, I had just completed my last assignment for my entire Bachelor's degree. YAY! This year, I have completed my first year of my Master's.

Last year, I had no idea what I wanted to do once I found myself with all this free time. This year, I don't have that problem. I am looking forward to being able to read books that I want to read. I have lots of travel planned for the summer including time on both the East Coast and West Coast. I have someone that I want to go spend time with. I joined a softball team and I plan to print out my Bucket List from last August to mark off as many as possible before I get busy with school again in the fall.

Kirsten's last day of school is Thursday, so she is busy making her summer plans as well. In June, she is headed to Arecibo, Puerto Rico for a mission trip and will probably spend the rest of the summer working at a summer camp. She has gone there every year for the last three years (since she was 12) to work in the kitchen. It's hard work with 14 hour days, but she loves doing it.

I hope to bring the funny back tomorrow, but wanted to briefly celebrate my new and much anticipated freedom.

What big plans do all of you have for the summer?

And I Mean It, Stanley

I've mentioned in earlier posts that I have been spending a lot of time in local schools to meet the requirements for my degree. Illinois standards require teaching majors to spend a certain number of hours observing students and teachers in a classroom setting for every hour of college instruction. Since I am getting my degree in secondary education, I am assigned to junior and senior high schools for my observation credits.

However, I spend even more time in the schools as a substitute teacher. As a substitute, I have worked with all age groups. I have written about some of those experiences here. I quickly learned why I am specializing in secondary education. I really do not relate well to younger children. I have since taken my name off the list for grades kindergarten through fifth grade. I didn't have much of a choice. On one day (if school had lasted another hour), I might have been jailed for choking half a dozen second graders. It was a horrible day.

No! You can't take your pants off.

I'll stick to what I know. I work very well with junior and senior high age kids. I have even discovered that I can work with preschoolers as long as there are helpers in the classroom that know what to do. I would never attempt that age by myself. I have been bitten, stabbed with a pencil, cussed at and spat on. Without another adult in the room to keep me in check, I might act out my fantasies of chucking a 4 year old through the nearest window. They are pretty small. It wouldn't be that difficult. However, their outbursts are typically short lived and I even enjoy it for the most part. Just don't leave me alone with them.

Last month, I was cursed had the privilege of returning to the same preschool class every day for three weeks. This actually makes things much easier than going to a different class every day. I had the opportunity to learn the names and strange idiosyncrasies of each ankle-biter. It makes all the difference in the world when you get to know the kids. It is so much better.

Each day involved lots of crafts, lessons and activities, but my favorite part was the beginning and end of each day. I would start each day reading a couple of books to the kids. This helps them to calm down and gain a little focus before starting the day. We ended the day with the same activity right before their parents came to pick them up.

I enjoyed this for several reasons. One of the biggest was the fact that I got to sit during this time. Another reason was that I actually had the attention of the whole class. That rarely happened. I would do the voices of the characters and add my personal commentary to each page. It was great to hear the kids laugh and say the words with me. As much as they liked to hear the same stories again and again, I tried to introduce them to a new book each day.

I remembered reading this as a child.

I would get to the school early so I could dig through the library and find a book to read during story time. On one of those days I came across a book that I vaguely remembered from my childhood, And I Mean It, Stanley. I thumbed through it quickly to see if it was the story I remembered.

Throughout the book, the child is yelling at someone not visible in the pictures. She is building things with the junk in her back yard and yelling that Stanley better come out to play now. The whole book is rather one sided. This little girl is yelling and getting more and more irate as the book progresses.

It finally reaches the climax when . . . well, I don't want to give away the ending in case it ever gets made into a movie. I don't want to spoil the ending.

Being a book from my childhood, I was excited to share it with the children. As they started coming into the classroom and taking their spots on the rug in front of me, they started making their demands requests for the book they wanted to hear. I told them I had already selected a book for the day.

Once they all got seated and quiet, I pulled out the book. I explained that I had read this story when I was a kid. As I was showing them the book, I saw something on the cover in the top right corner I had not noticed before.

That is my brother's name!  KYLE MINOR
This is the same copy that used to be in our house.

When I said I had this book as a kid, I didn't know I had actually owned THIS specific copy. It threw me for a moment. We grew up 30 miles away from this school. It had been at least three decades since we physically had the book in our possession. Somehow it had made some travels, passed through countless owners and ended up in this school in my hands.

Once I regained composure and snapped back to the present I told the kids what I had found. They didn't seem to be nearly as impressed as I was. I read the book to them with more enthusiasm than I would have otherwise. We all celebrated when we got to the ending and began our day.

At the end of the day, they requested to read the book again and I was more than happy to oblige. Soon, the parents began to show up and one by one the kids got their hugs and left for the day. Once the room was empty, I pulled the book out to marvel at it again.

After a couple of minutes, I realized that my amazement was silly. The book was still in the same county as last time I saw it. It had probably been donated to a library by my mother or sold in a yard sale. At some point it was given to this school. It really wasn't that big of a deal. I set the book down and turned off the lights for the day.

Before I closed the classroom door, I returned to the book and quickly placed it in my coat. After all, it had my family name on it.

RELAX!!!
I brought it back the next day.

The Awards Fairy Came By

This is one of those posts when I don't have to be creative. I just get to sit, say my thanks and pass on some love. I get to take it easy because the award fairy came to my house this week.

He is not what I pictured a fairy to look like. He was short, had a large beer gut and was missing a couple of teeth. After a prolonged coughing fit and spitting on my floor, he handed me two awards.

I objected since I had already one this one a couple of weeks ago. He told me that it wasn't his problem and shoved it into my gut. According to him, Shane over at Wag the Dad said my blog was "selling like hotcakes." I considered this to be the greatest compliment, because I love Wag the Dad, consider him to be one of the blogging greats and was thrilled to find out that he even knew who I was. Shane writes about being a dad, living in Austria and recently wrote a piece about the benefits of letting your mind go blank and drooling on yourself. He made a very good argument. His weekly debates with Angie at Angie Uncovered are not to be missed. Shane is very funny and, if you are not reading him already, you should check him out.

The balding fairy then told me that I had been given the same award by another blogger. Random Thoughts of a Not-So Random Mind passed it on to me as well. This blog is written by an Argentinian teacher who shares the same birthday as Jesus. I found her blog last January within a few minutes of her putting up her first post and have stayed a follower ever since. She promised me (since I have been there from the beginning and was her very first commenter) that if she hits it big with her writing, she won't forget me and will introduce me to celebrities. Then I will use those connections to realize my dream of becoming a Hollywood stuntman. Go check her out.

The fairy then told me that since I had already won this award and followed the rules, I didn't have to do it again if I gave him money to buy a pack of smokes. I gave him $5 and asked for my other award. He used my bathroom and then handed me this one. ==>

I quickly washed if off and looked on the back. It came from two different bloggers as well. Misty from Misty's Laws and Pish Posh.

Misty of Misty's Laws is a ninja stealth photographer who captures discreet pictures of the freaks and fashion mishaps that occur around her. Usually, without being detected. She also does not appreciate strangers complimenting her feet and has a couple of posts showing off her friends' planking skills, a pastime I discovered last fall. She is a very funny lady and worth clicking over to check out.

My first thought when I saw Pish Posh's name was "That's the lady that keeps blowing up my phone." I love my blogging friends and if they have a Twitter account, I have their tweets forwarded to my phone. No one tweets more than Pish Posh. Fortunately, she is a good tweeter and is always pointing me toward something worth reading. There was a little confusion on my part about whether she was actually giving me this award or just calling me out for being confused about one of her recent posts, but since I was getting it anyway her name is now attached. Pish Posh is a teacher who is now looking for a sugar daddy so she can stay home and write. She is very funny and writes about absolutely everything. She often includes recipes on her blog, but will not tolerate you noisily eating your food in her presence. Quiet chewers only!

At this point the fairy was sitting on my couch flipping through my cable channels. He informed me that since it is my first time winning this award, I am obliged to play by the rules unless I wanted to order a pizza. I had already given him the last of my cash so I asked for the rules. He said I had to link back to the blogs that gave me the award, mention some blogs that I read and list 7 things about myself.

1. Despite all my recent posts about the stuntman antics and crazy things I did as a kid, I have never broken a bone. My brothers cannot say the same.
2. I originally went to school to be a computer programmer.
3. I've been divorced for 5 years and still go to my ex-wife's family reunions.
4. In high school, my favorite teacher was also the one I hated the most.
5. I have recently started watching Glee on Netflix Instant. The storyline is weak, the characters are stereotypical and the acting is cheesy, but it is fun to watch. Don't judge me.
6. When I was 9 years old, I won GRAND CHAMPION with my goat in 4-H.
7. I still own every book I have ever read. I have a problem with letting them go.

I am going to try to name bloggers I read that I have not mentioned before. I don't want to give awards out to the same people over and over again.

•  Ash-Matic Does Things - He has only been blogging for a little over a month, but he has great stuff. With 25 followers after only 4 weeks, he is onto something.
• Kernut the Blond - Her blog caught my eye because she is doing something my parents are doing. Traveling around the country in an RV. I can't wait for her new posts to find out where she is now, who she has met and what fantastic things she has seen. If she would let me, I would love to travel with her for a month.
• Wait in the Van - Kristine recently got kicked out of a blogging competition for cheating. She didn't really cheat and her readers have her back. She came out stronger.
• Twenty Something Waitress - This waitress blogs about the crazy things that happen to her at work, the difficult customers she has to put up with and how she gets jilted on tips.

All of these blogs are amazing and deserve a read through. Subscribe, leave comments, show them some love from me. I have to go get the fairy. He is in my fridge making a sandwich.

6,000 and Counting

I started blogging in October of 2010 and fell in love with it. I started this blog because, Alex, the boy my daughter was dating encouraged me to start one. He had made one for school and was really enjoying it, so I thought I would give it a try. I am so happy I did. I turns out that I love blogging.

I don't know how much other people like my site, but I really enjoy it. It has been a great release. Plus, I get to have fun being creative and telling stories. Sometimes the posts were funny (or meant to be), sometimes confessional and occasionally reminiscent. Some of them I labored over and others I just cranked out before I went to bed. Either way, I wish I had started doing this years ago.

The pictures don't always have to make sense!

The beginning of this month marked just over 14 months of me pounding on my keyboard. My blog was visited about 4,500 times during that period. That averages out to just over 10 views per day. However, this month has seen a drastic change.

Today, I reached the 6,000 views mark. This means I've had about 1,500 views in the last three weeks. That is over 60 views a day. I've been blogging for 15 months and 25% of all the traffic I've received has come in the last month. Before this month it took me over 4 months to get that many views and now it has happened in 3 weeks. So what happened? I have some theories.

One of the causes for this was completely on accident. On January 4, a friend of mine (Adam) had a rather embarrassing medical issue. I took him to the emergency room and blogged about it the next day. That story became my most read post before the day was over. Adam sent the link out to all his Facebook friends and they swarmed in to see what he had been griping about on his Wall for the last 24 hours. This gave me a quick surge of about 400 views in a couple of days. This number may be common place for some bloggers, but for me, those numbers were huge.

On a side note, I want to make it clear that I don't just humiliate people because I have an audience on the web. After I wrote the blog, I saved it to be approved by Adam before it was posted. Once he gave me the 'OK', I published it. He received several phone calls and sympathetic comments on his Facebook wall for the next few days. While Adam did appreciate the extra attention his new-found fame had brought him, he unexpectedly found himself to be a bit distressed for approving the story. It was disconcerting for people to be so acutely aware of what most would have wanted to be a private experience. After telling me his concerns, I agreed that from this point forward if I write about any of his adventures or mishaps, he will be referred to as Stephen. He found that to be acceptable.

Versatile?
I think that is a nice way
of saying I can't focus
on any one thing.

While that post did provide me with a quick surge in my numbers, it was not the only thing I did. A few months back, I was given the 'Versatile Blogger' award (Thank you Brandie Boddie). Besides the prestige of receiving the award, I was to do something. The award required me to share a few things about myself and pass the award on to seven other bloggers. Unfortunately, I really wasn't reading many blogs. That was the second time this had happened to me. I received an award that I was supposed to pass on, but did not know who to give it to. I didn't want that to happen again, so I started looking for other blogs to read.

Once again, I wish that I had done this earlier, because there are some great writers out there. Some of my favorites are Creative Devolution, Crack You Whip, The Bloggess, The Cowardly Feminist, "Jen" e sais quoi, GweenBrick, Misadventures of the Monster Library, Mayor Gia, Pish Posh and Wait in the Van. This is in no way an exhaustive list. It is just a few of the blogs I have grown to love in the last month. There are many more, but these are the first ones that came to mind. I started thinking of some others, but I figured the list is long enough. To those people I listed, I love you all. Thank you for the opinions, laughs and words you have shared.

Now that I am actually reading other blogs, I have started seeing a huge increase in traffic. This was an unintended, but much appreciated result. After reading their posts, I always left a comment, because I know how much I love to get comments. I really want to know what my readers think of the post or what thoughts come to mind as they read it. It is frustrating to check my stats and discover that one of my posts has had 50 or more visits and no one left a comment, so I always leave one. I do this because I think it is nice and as a blogger I understand how much those comments mean to me. Because of those comments I left, many the blog owners come over to check out my blog and I even pick up traffic from some of their readers. Now, I am getting regular traffic to my site and didn't even mean to do it.

HOORAY for accidental victories!

Thank you to those of you who have been reading since the beginning and welcome to the new people I have met in the last month. I look forward to getting to know all of you better.

Let's see how long it takes to reach 10,000. Now that I have more traffic, I had better produce quality funny.

Put Down the Books.......Now, Back Away

I am having a lot of difficulty organizing my time lately. The place this is most evident (for the people who are not in my house) is in my blog. I have a very inconsistent blog schedule. One week I will post three times and then I won't put up another post for over two weeks. I have made promise after promise to myself and my readers that I will start blogging regularly. I set a goal for myself of at least twice a week several months ago, but it never lasts long.

I don't know if this is a valid excuse to throw out there, but I have been taking classes to get my Master's degree in Teaching. While this does not take up all of my time, it does make me feel like anytime I spend doing anything other studying is wrong. I do understand that other pursuits are not wrong, but I still feel guilty for some reason.

The book is as exciting as this picture.
"Hey, let's stand around and talk!"
Somebody SHOOT someone. PLEASE!!

I have been reading Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities for months. MONTHS!!! Literally. The book is not that long, but I just can't seem to make any progress on it. There are two reasons for this. The first one, I already mentioned. I feel guilty when I read it. As soon as I pick up the book, I feel that I should probably be reading one of my textbooks or doing research for the multitude of papers I will be writing for the next few years. Second, (and I think this is the biggest deterrent) it is so incredibly boring. I know this is supposed to be one of the classics that everyone should read, but I am not enjoying this. Unfortunately, my OCD does not allow me to stop reading it. I have to finish. I have never started a book that I did not read to the end.

This may not be a good thing. I actually have a list of books that I call my Bucket List Books. It is my gargantuan list of books that I have to read before I die. It had over a thousand titles on it when I started and I have since added to it. I started this task because of a book I came across in the library one day. Some of them I have enjoyed, but there have been several I have had to fight my way through. Now that I have this added guilt when I am doing anything besides studying, I don't know that I will read for fun ever again. At least, not until I graduate. Of course, then I will have to read boring book reports written by acne-ridden adolescents about a book that I found boring to begin with. Since I plan to be a math teacher, the books will be even duller than usual. Math books, although educational, do not make for very interesting reading. Although, sometimes the word problems can be pretty entertaining.

Amanda had three older brothers. One day they sent her into town to buy them an apple. Since apples cost 30 cents, they each gave her a dime. When she reached the store, she discovered that apples were on sale for 25 cents. She purchased the apple and returned to her brothers. She gave them the apple and the 5 cents in change. To thank her, they each gave her a penny. Since they each gave back a penny out of their original dime, that means each brother contributed 9 cents. 

9 x 3 = 27       30 - 27 = 3

Because there was a nickel back for change, which Amanda gave to her brothers, and they each gave her 1 penny out of the nickel, there is only 2 cents left. Where is the extra penny?

I don't know how long I will be entertained by math word problems, but they will have to sustain me until I get therapy or something. However, I can't get therapy until after I have graduated, because I have homework to do. Therapy would just make me feel even more guilty for neglecting my studies.

This is the same reason I have not been blogging much lately. I get up in the morning thinking I need to post something, but then realize that I really should be doing school work. Once again, my good intentions are turned towards learning about cognitive development and why some kids can't make friends. Considering how much I am paying for this and the amount of debt that I will be in once I am finished, the therapy should be included.

Once again, I am pledging to obsess blog at least twice a week. I love you guys. Please help me find the extra penny.

Award for Playing on my Computer

I messed up. I really messed up.

I love writing my blog. I enjoy meeting and talking with other bloggers. I love seeing my stats go up and reading the comments that people leave on my posts. I have been trying to make sure to always leave a follow-up comments to anyone who leaves a comment, so they know that I did see it and appreciate them reading my ramblings. However, I dropped the ball on this one. I was reviewing some past blog posts to see how well I had covered a topic I was considering revisiting, when I came across a comment I had forgotten about.

This proves my blog has
no specific point. I can
ramble about anything
and everything.
I talk in the same way.

I won a blogging award last October called The Versatile Blogger. It was given to me by blogger Brandi Boddie of Colorado. Brandi is an author of Christian romance and will be having her first novel published this fall. You can visit her site by clicking here.

I was excited to get this award and do the follow-up that goes along with it, but something happened. I don't know what it was, but somehow, it got put to the side and I just forgot about it. I want to blame my school schedule, which is what I blame for most things that I forget. It gets people off my back when I apologize and say, "I'm sorry. I was so busy with my research paper, it must have slipped my mind."

It doesn't matter if it is true or not. They usually buy it. So, I am going to use that excuse again. I was very busy with school and didn't even feed my daughter that week. Luckily, she is of an age she can feed and dress herself. I forget she is in the house most of the time.

So, I am revisiting what I was supposed to do back in October. According to Brandi, I am supposed to follow these rules.

1. List 7 things people may not know about you. 
2. Pass the award on to 7 other bloggers and let them know they have won.
3. Don't forget the thank the blogger who gave the award to you.

 I will start with the last one. Brandi, I do appreciate the award. Thank you so much. I hope you didn't think I had just carelessly cast it to the side when you sent it to me. I have no real excuse. It just got away from me. Thank you.

7 Things People May Not Know About Me

1. Besides my daughter, most of my time is spent with Adam Elliot. This may not be a very interesting fact, but every time I write a new blog, he says, "I bet I am not even mentioned." Most of the time, he is right. However, this time, he will be wrong. He even got listed at number one.
2. I don't like most people. I don't know why this is, but I don't. I enjoy socializing and meeting new people. I like to get out of my house and go where I can find people and have interesting conversations, but I don't necessarily like the people I am talking to. I think I hide it well, but I have been that way for as long as I can remember.
3. I love dill pickles. A jar of pickles does not last long in my house. I put them on everything.
4. The inside of my head is a sick and twisted place. My Facebook profile gets a steady dose of the things that I find funny and go on inside my head. However, it is heavily edited. I very rarely let out the things I am actually thinking.



I wish this would happen to all of them.

5. I have had a pet tarantula and will pick grasshoppers and cave crickets up with my bare hands, but am terrified by a praying mantis. I don't know why, but I can't get far enough away from them. I hate them. They are so creepy. No other bug bothers me. And for anyone who thinks now that they have this information, it would be funny to scare me with one, be warned. I will not hesitate to hurt you and will not feel guilty about it.
6. I talk to myself most of the time. Occasionally, I actually speak out loud. I am usually able to play it off once I realize I have done it, but sometimes the words that just blurted out of my mouth are rather embarrassing. Since I don't like most people, I don't really care what they think, but my daughter thinks I am nuts.
7. When I get my teaching degree, I plan to get a contract with the Department of Defense and teach on military bases. I am willing to go to any base in the world.

My Versatile Blogger Recipients

Click the titles to visit the page

1. I only discovered A Softer World recently.  The blog posts consist of a picture or series of pictures with a clever caption or saying to go with it. I love this blog.
2. Shane Morgan's blog In Shane's Brain covers a variety of topics. He writes about whatever is on his mind that day. Sometimes funny, sometimes thought-provoking.
3. A few months ago I discovered The Cowardly Feminist by Vesta Vayne. I love hearing about her adventures in Pasadena and thoughts on every day struggles we all face. She posts 3-4 times a week so there is always something new to read. She has self-published two books. This is probably my favorite blog to read.

I know I am supposed to give this award to seven people, but I really don't read that many blogs. I do have a few more, but they have either already received this award or are very well-read bloggers who would not care notice if I awarded them with this. Here is a quick list of others I read, but I will not be sending them notification. The Blogess, Guilty Squid, The Weed, Oh Noa, and God's Comic. The Cowardly Feminist is one of those blogs with plenty of readers, but I thought it deserved a special mention.

Other blogs I read are usually about technology, photography or graphic design. They sometimes bore me despite being topics I am interested in, so I will not pass them on to you.

Brandi, thank you once again for the award. It is appreciated, even if it took me three months to say so.

The Problem with Russian Literature

I love to read.  I am reading something everyday.  Books, magazines, newspapers, comics, Internet anything: I have read it.  I even read the video game booklet before playing the game.  It drives my kids nuts.  I just love to read.  I am usually reading about 3 books at one time.  I keep one to read at work, I have one by my bed, and I have one in the car.  So, needless to say, I consider myself a fairly well-read person.

That opinion came to an end a few months ago.  I was perusing the library again for my newest literary conquest and found an interesting book, "1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die"  by Peter Boxall.

 

Being the bibliophile that I am, I was immediately interested.  I thumbed through it in the library to see what classics I may have missed.  To my surprise, there were quite a few books I had never read.  So, I checked out the book for further investigation.  For the next four days, anytime I was in front of the television, I was typing the books into my laptop (not knowing the list is already on the Internet here and dozens of other places).  I had decided that if these were the best books ever written, according to the critics that contributed to the book, then I wanted to read them all.  Once I got them all typed in, I soaked my fingers for a few hours, then I began to eliminate the ones I had already read, so I could make the list smaller.  When I was done the list was down to 952.

952? 

How could that be? I have read approximately two books per week since I learned how to read. This is impossible. I began to go through a mental checklist of the books I have been reading, and I realized that for the last several years, I have not been reading books that would ever be considered classics of literature. I have read hundreds of political commentaries, books on law and psychology, Christian social commentaries, and the works of Stephen King. I realized that although I had read a huge number of books, I typically just read whatever sounded good to me at the time. I am not saying that was a bad thing. That is probably how most people choose their next book to read. Well, no more. I decided to expand my reading repertoire.

I changed my attitude. Instead of being disgusted at how few of the classics I had read, I became excited about the huge list of books I now had in my future. So I dove in. One of the first ones I read was "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath. I read it one day at work and finished it that night. I wasn't sure what to think of it. It is an autobiographical piece from Plath. She has what many would call a wonderful life and isn't even twenty yet. She is an aspiring writer, has been given a scholarship to intern at a magazine in New York, is going to all the fancy places paid for by the magazine and just isn't happy. She is disconnected from life, tries to kill herself and ends up in an institution. Apparently, Plath is heralded as being one of the great American woman writers and is inspiring to many young women. I don't get it. She did write well, but where was the inspiring part. She constantly talked about suicide and eventually did it in real life. Not my sort of book, but I got to mark it off the list.

I read "The Count of Monte Cristo" by Alexandré Dumas. Excellent book. I was already familiar with the story, but had never read it. I look forward to "The Three Musketeers" by him also. Next was "Slaughterhouse Five" by Kurt Vonnegut which is basically about a WWII soldier who survives being a POW, starts a successful business after the war, and starts a family. Then, the aliens come and abduct him to the planet Tralfamadore, where he is thrown in a zoo-type structure to be gawked at by the residents there. He is forced to breed with another Earthling, who happens to be a big movie star in Hollywood. After that, it gets kind of strange.

So, I was getting books marked off of my list, but I was not looking forward to all of them. I noticed there were several books by Fyodor Dostoevsky, an 19th century Russian author who wrote most of his books while imprisoned in Siberia. A few years ago I read his book "Crime and Punishment." It was not an enjoyable experience. In a nutshell, the main character, Raskolnikov, decides to rob and murder an old woman. He does so, also killing her half-sister. Then spends the next 800 pages feeling guilty. I hated that book and even had trouble keeping track of the different characters. In Russia, your name changes depending on who is speaking to you. To give you an idea how complicated this can get, I found a webpage (click here) that explains it. Here, my name is Brett to everyone. Occasionally, I am called Mr. Minor. That's about as complicated as it gets. Not in Russia. Check the link for a moment to get an idea of what I am talking about.

When reading a book with several characters, it is important for the reader to keep the different characters straight in order to avoid confusion.  Being raised in the U.S., I am accustomed to names like William, Robert and Susan.  Dostoevsky has characters named Parfen Rogozhin, Dmitri Prokofitch Razumihin, Fyodor Pavlovitch Karamazov, and Pavel Fyodorovitch Smerdyakov. When not being accustomed to these types of names and there are three dozen characters with such names, it gets difficult to keep track of who did what. Add to that the fact that everyone's name changes according to who is speaking to them, it gets even worse. A man is not addressed by an acquaintance with the same name his mother would use for him. It is even a different name for a business associate. Even the middle and last names change determined by whether the name is being used for a legal purpose or casually.

Therefore, I suffered though the book, not know what was going on half of the time. Add to that the fact that every character is so long-winded with everything they have to say. A character could go on for four pages just asking for a cup of tea. But now, I have to read five more Dostoevsky novels to complete my list. So, I decided to get them out of the way.

I have now read "Notes from the Underground", "The Brothers Karamazov", and am half-way through "The Idiot."  I have to admit, they have gotten better.  I had to get used to his writing, but I am coming to appreciate it.  Most of the characters seem to be insane, much like the author, but they are fun to watch.

I still have over 900 books left on my list and I have discovered there are groups of people who have decided to try to read all these books as well.  They have even started book discussion groups online.  So, I know I am not crazy for trying this.  Party at my house when I have finished the last one.