The Holocaust Museum, and Its Depressing Tendencies (Beyond Class #2)

I had to go to the Holocaust Museum for a History assignment on my own time. First of all, not only was it pretty creepy because there were like 2 people in the whole museum and one of them was the friend I brought with me. The exhibits were completely dark until you walked right into them and then everything came alive at once and it was pretty scary. I had to push my friend in front of me because I was too scared to go first half the time, and when we got to the tunnel, somehow I got pressured into going first and I did not expect to see a family of people in mannequin form chilling in the tunnel and speaking in German. For some reason just the German language is the scariest thing to me, but maybe because I automatically think of Hitler and murder when I hear it. Enough about my anxiety, The museum did have a lot of information that I didn't know about before. for instance, I did not know that Jehovah's witnesses and Gypsies were also sent to concentration camps. Like, why? I don't really get it. I learned that over 1.5 million children were murdered. That was pretty depressing. I also learned that a lot of Nazi's didn't get too harsh of sentences. Most of them just received a little jail time or something. Of course the high ranking ones were killed or given life but there were only like 12 of them out of like 100 Nazis or something like that. That to me, was also very trifling because every single Nazi helped someone be murdered. Nobody was forced to become a Nazi, forreal. So yeah that was my experience. The End.

Wedding Proposal Dream Team

So, the other weekend, Me and 3 friends drove to Virginia Beach together at 9 at night to help someone with a wedding proposal. We set up a tent on the beach at night and the beach was completely empty and peaceful. We set up Tiki torches and colorful lights to make a path and we hang pictures of them from the top of the tent and taped "Will You Marry Me" to the back of the tent. We then assembled our instruments. My ex-boyfriend played the box drum, his friend played the Ukulele, and I, and my friend sang the song "Will You Marry Me" by Jason Derulo. When we heard then coming, walking down the beach, we began to sing and when she reached the tent she was so shocked and happy, she stood there with her hand to her mouth. When we reached the chorus of the song he got down on one knee and said the most heartfelt speech he could manage. When she said yes, we then began to create our own song. that only had the lyrics "She Said Yes" it actually sounded pretty good. Expect it on iTunes pretty soon. :) and thats my story of how we made someone's dream come true. and they all lived happily ever after..... except this was last week so they're not even married yet, but you get the point. The End!

My Mind is telling me no....but my body is also telling me no.

So, it's been very hard for me to do these blogs lately because my mind has been a blank slate. the stuff we've been doing in class has legitimately blown completely over my head, unintentionally, of course. Whenever I try to blog about something, my mind spaces, and i'm back to the idea that this is almost completely pointless for me. I have no problem expressing myself. if you think so you should definitely see my twitter account. My problem is that I'm not really given a topic and I don't exactly know what is worth anyone reading much less what is approved for me to talk about. Like is this post even an approved topic? Is it alright for me to talk about how i can't think of anything to blog about and because of which, i do not wish to blog? if it's not approved, I apologize, but this is as good as it gets for right now, unfortunately. but hey, i also typed a good amount of words here. i could mention something about foreshadowing and syntax, and similes, but you know, it's all pretty much downhill from here so why try to even save this post. If you've even gone as far as to read all of this, Ku- freaking- dos to you, because if I were me, I would've stopped a long time ago. Again, I'm sorry this wasn't my best post. Also, I'm sorry I'm not exceeding your expectations of me! I JUST WANT TO LIVE MY LIFE, GOSH. Okay my brain is turning into mush, just as yours probably is as well, the more you read on. So I'm just gonna stop, and.... yeah. i have like 3 more of these to do. See you next time.

-Destinee Out!

So this concert i went to....(Beyond Class #1)

So I went to this concert last weekend, and  it was fantastic. Why? Of course there were a bunch of artists there and the tickets were cheap and stuff. That's not what it was so great. I know this is the typical thing a black person would say, but there was free stuff EVERYWHERE. It was a convention center concert. so while the artists were doing their thing on the stage, their were venders giving out free stuff and samples and stuff. My dad won free tickets to a fancy restaurant and concert, I got free tshirts, water bottles, sunglasses, bags of candy, hand sanitizers, coupons, nail files, mirrors, I mean the list goes on and on. I left that concert with so much free stuff i needed two bags to carry it all. Not to mention I also had the chance to meet and take a picture with my most favorite gospel male singer ever! along with a finalist from B.E.Ts TV show "Sunday Best". I was so excited i almost cried. This gospel singer is a beautiful, beautiful, man. and he hugged me. I have proof! I encourage my readers to look up Wess Morgan.  He can sing like a black man even though he's clearly white. But you will be amazed. So yeah that was my experience. The end

Why The Hills Like White Elephants Is Tricky

A while ago, we read the "Hills Like White Elephants" story and although now I know it's about abortion, the ending doesn't really let you know how it ends. So, this is what I would do if I was in the Woman's situation. But, this is just me.  First off, if the guy was so obviously trying to make me get an abortion, my first reaction would be. "Why?" if the answer wasn't already evident. it seems to me like he wants to leave me and get away with it scott free. Either that or he made a mistake and doesn't want to live up to it. To both, my answer would be no. She asked if he would love her if she got the abortion.  Of course he's not going to say no. Until she gets that abortion he's gonna say everything she wants to hear. Now, I've never been pregnant, but I would never get an abortion. That's just me. For one, it would be my fault that the baby got there unless I was raped. Secondly, the baby didn't do anything to me, and it's not the baby's fault that a mistake was made. That baby is a human just like me, and everyone else. I couldn't kill a hamster much less a human being. So if i was in that women's situation, I would keep the baby and say "screw you" to the father. He can't make me commit a murder. Why is it if I killed the baby a minute after it was born I could be jailed for life or given the death penalty, but if I kill it a few weeks earlier its completely different? I'm going off on a tangent here because this is a topic I've defended for years. I don't understand why a simple thing such as age defines when its right to kill. The story sickened me because babies are seen like objects that you can just get rid of if you don't want it. They're not toys, or clothes that didn't fit you quite right. You don't get receipts or layaway. I would do everything in my power to raise that baby whether I was alone or not. If a baby is enough for a man to leave you, especially if it's his baby, then he didn't really love you in the first place. I don't know what time period the story is set in, but in modern day, it is pretty common for there to be single mothers all across the world. I would gladly choose to be one of those if given the choice to murder my flesh and blood, or raise it to be a model citizen who, in the end, I'll be glad to have.

The Glass Menagerie Alternate Ending

Okay, so we've read and watched the glass menagerie. However, even thought the story is the easiest one to understand out of everything we've read so far, the ending is completely vague and unfinished. So Tom leaves, and returns and they're gone. Then what? The audience is left hanging in this play. This is how I think it should have ended. I believe that Tom should leave, squander all of his savings and have to come crawling back to his annoying mother Amanda like the prodigal son. Amanda doesn't hesitate in bombarding him with speeches involving "I told you so". Tom then scans the house looking for Laura, who is nowhere to be found. Jim and his fiancé didn't work out, and he and Laura had started a life together. Meanwhile, Tom stays, nurturing his now dying, aging mother, whose final words are "Thank, you Tom. Although it never seemed like it, but I've never stopped being proud of you…" She finally dies and Tom is free to do whatever he pleases, learning from his past mistakes and moving forward with the reassurance that his mother didn't die resenting him for leaving. The End. Now, I think that's an ending that would leave an audience more satisfied than the ambiguous, unresolved ending.  That, my friends, is how you end a play.

 Cut, scene, that's a wrap, and all that jazz.

yours truly,

Destinee, the Substitute Playwright

Essay Anxiety Averted

It's a funny thing about the personal connection essay. I did it on "How to Become a Writer" because, believe it or not, I used to dream of becoming a writer for a living. Of course, now my writing is mediocre at best, but at a certain time of my life, I thought I was the next J.K Rowling. My 5th grade teacher told me I was a good writer, so I just ran with it from there. However, once I took creative writing class in 11th grade, writing became a chore. My creativity was forced in creative writing class, and as a result, I lost the will to write. I can barely write these blogs without falling asleep or wandering off to a social network mid sent.......... Sorry, okay I'm back. You see my point? I used to love writing! My 11th grade year I scored a perfect 600 on my writing SOL. Somewhere along the course of the end of my high school years, I began to practically despise writing. My novel has ceased to be worked on since summer, and I only succeeded in adding an extra chapter. making it about a 65,000 word novel that has reached writer's block and won't have a chance to be fixed because as stated in my last blog, I am extremely busy 24/7 and when I'm not busy, I'm sleeping or eating, which, in my case, is serious business. So I admire the main character of "How to Become a Writer" because she didn't give up on her passion for writing no matter how tough things got for her. I, on the other hand, have given up to an extent, and instead of even talking about my struggles of becoming a writer in my essay, I resorted to talking about my passion for music and my desire to be a female rapper/singer or famous actress. Of course, both things are true, but I completely overlooked the actual writing part. The way the story portrayed how to become a writer wasn't  the best at tempting me to become one, much less write about my becoming one. So my story changed completely and I went with what made a little more sense. How could I write about how to be come a writer if I myself failed in becoming one already? Exactly, this is best for all of us. Again, thanks for your time, and I hope your brain hasn't shut off from reading my blogs.

My Life In Yellow Wallpaper

Okay, so I realize that I've been very late in all of my blog posts because my life has been like the story of the yellow wallpaper. No, I wasn't imprisoned in a room to go insane, obviously. However, I've been feeling trapped. I have so many things going on in my life lately that I feel like i don't even have enough time to rest at night. I am the girl behind the yellow wallpaper, and though I'm not on the verge of hanging myself, I am very overwhelmed with the multiple responsibilities that I'm facing. Being secretary of the rbc players, the worship and youth leader of 2 different churches, working a job, and going to college and doing homework, it's like a never ending cycle of responsibilities. It  makes me wonder. Maybe the woman in the yellow wallpaper became overwhelmed with the responsibilities of being a housewife and that's why she went crazy. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me. Although, technically my responsibilites can far outweigh those of a housewife, I believe, and I have yet to go insane. Maybe the woman in that story wasn't as strong minded as she would've liked to be. Perhaps she was fragile from the beginning and the slightest change would send her over the edge. Of course there were several things that played a key role in the destruction of that woman's mind, but I don't think that would be enough to go crazy. Either way, if I ever was in thatt situation, at least I wouldnt become infatuated with my wallpaper, primarily because my walls are painted eggshell and tan. It's much too boring to obsess over.
This completes my random thoughts for now. I hope these don't melt your brain, or make you go crazy Gnarles Barkley style.

That Not So Alone Ranger

Okay so let's think back to the story of The Lone Ranger Fistfight in Heaven thing. Funny thing about that story is, I'm just like him. Hold on guys, let me rephrase that. Alright, I'm somewhat like him. No, I'm not Native American. I have a lot in my bloodline-which most of us do- but that's not the point. As the strong independent Black woman that I am, you can Imagine how hard it is being educated. Black people have this stereotype that we are all supposed to live in the "hood" or at least talk like it. We are supposed to dress, act, and even dance a certain way as African Americans. Well I, myself, disprove every stereotype ever placed on Black people, and it's not because i'm trying to "act white" in any way, shape, or form. It's because I was raised to be above the stigmas placed on us as a society of people. I don't talk "Ghetto" unless I'm playing around. I can't twerk, unfortunately, though i'm not too sad about it. I'm extremely outgoing and bubbly, which is a trait not seen in too many black people. My style is conservatively quirky. its like Beyonce meets Taylor Swift. My hair is real. As a matter of fact i don't think i've ever had weave in my entire life. But that's me. Everyone is different, but because of the way I am, I can relate more to white people than I can to most people from my own race. It's not a conscious decision, because I make friends with all types of races but I would say my friends are 80% white, 15% Black and 5% other.  What does this have to do with the lone ranger? Well obviously he has been discriminated against, and stereotyped. He also likes white people but he's always seen as the sidekick. That's pretty much me. Have you ever wondered what it was like being the token black friend? It has its moments, lets just say. I have grown to not mind it as much, but I felt where he was coming from in this story. The black people back on the "Reservation" aka "The Hood" do want me to succeed, so no pressure there. Like the lone ranger, I still have no idea what I'm doing with my life, and I also have a job that isn't even great. It's just something to get by. Hopefully, I turn out better than he did anyway. Overall, I titled this "That Not So Alone Ranger" because although I'm also the sidekick and the ranger, clearly I'm not alone. I have way more friends than this guy did from multiple races. Also I know I'm not the only black girl out there that doesn't always fit in for not being ratchet, and to those girls, I say, be my friend.

Sincerely,

That strange black girl named Destinee

Yes, I'm late. Sorry I'm new at this

Okay, so I'm going to list a few key points that stood out to me in these stories. first off I would like to acknowledge that I think they all were beyond strange. especially The Yellow Wallpaper. First of all, about the "How To Become A Writer" story, I wonder how she became a published author if in the end she is still terrible at writing plots? Do they publish the story anyway because they believe that she is being facetious by making her story be pointless while she tells a story about how bad she is at writing plots? Is that the joke? If so, then that's actually clever. However, how do we know if that was what she was doing? what if it was published because it was thought to be a facetious story when in actuality she was being dead serious. Oh, how that would have "punk'd" us all. Maybe I read too deep into this. See what English does to me? The same continues with The Lone Ranger and the Yellow Wallpaper. I've read way too deep into these things, and I could go on forever just confusing myself even further. I will probably save my other nonsensical ramblings for my future posts. Oh and sorry about not getting off to a good start with the lateness. I will be posting on time and hopefully more intellectually as time progresses. Thank you for your time,

Sincerely,
Destinee Blow