Grandma's Fridge

Cleaning my grandma's fridge is task I dread every month. Almost once every month, my grandma will call me over to help her with this. Let me tell you, it is awful. Smells emanate from containers with unknown substances inside. Some food even has mold growing on it. It's a frightening experience.

Just last night I was called upon to clean my grandmas fridge. I wanted to decline, but I love my grandma and I owe it to her. She's been like a mother to me. Even then, it's not something I look forward to.

So I sat at the floor of her white tiled kitchen and pulled things out of the fridge, working on one shelf at a time, as she sat in chair and set everything on the counter. Then, we went through each container. I cautiously opened each lid, almost afraid of what could be inside. Oh the smells I smelt yesterday!

Some of the stuff in her fridge was easy to identify, there was month old desert pizza, soup that had gone bad, but some of it was just plain terrifying! I'm almost beginning to think my grandma is taking part in strange experiments at her house. There could have been lizard brains in one of those containers! I'm not sure what a lizard brain smells like, but I know most of those containers did not smell pleasant.

It's hard for my grandmother to get around and even harder for her to reach a lot of things in her fridge (or even remember what's in her fridge) so I can't blame her for letting the food in her fridge go bad. And it's my job, as her grateful grandchild to help her with these tasks. But when I come over to her house to clean that fridge, gosh I just wish I didn't have a sense of smell.

I guess cleaning out the fridge, no matter how smelly it is, is worth the time I get to spend with my grandmother.

Years down the road, I’ll look back on this and realize I wouldn’t have traded that time in for anything, but right now, I’m dreading the next time I have to clean Grandma’s refrigerator.

One Night

This friday I'll performing in One Night. It's not neccessarily a large variety show like the talent show my highschool does later in the year. It's more of a concert. All of the music is live and there's usually a wide varity of music played. Last year, there was a band that did a Green Day cover, there was a band that played a tribute to the Beatles and also plenty of musicians who played originals.

Even though it's this upcoming friday, I'm not completely prepared. I'll be doing a couple of songs in the show, at most three songs. But that depends on how many people sign up for the show. I still don't have the songs picked out I want to do. I know I'll do at least one original (I just have to pick one that I've already written - it's just so hard to choose!) and one cover. I might learn how to play a new song. It doesn't take me very long to learn something new. I'm thinking about trying to do a cover of "Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown" by Jim Croce. It's one of my favorite musicians and that song is very upbeat and fun - the perfect song to play at a show like this.

The show will be in what we call, the Black Box . It's the school second auditorium. It's not as big and fancy as the actual auditorium, but it's a nice space to perform in. It's a black room where we place fold out chairs and a stage in front of it all. I actually like playing in it better than the auditorium. I peroformed in the actual auditorium last year for the talent show and it wasn't very fun. There was too much distance between myself and the audience. In the Black Box that distance is smaller. It may make others nervous, but it makes me more comfortable.

I'm not too nervous about getting up in front of people, the thing I'm most worried about is picking the right song(s) to play. This is my last year and my last chance to perform in One Night so I want to make the best out of it and do my absolute best.

My father also makes me nervous. Last year when he came to see me perform in One Night, he left halfway through the show and barely congratulated me or anything. When he came to see me at the Talent Show that year, he also made it clear that he was less than proud of me. When I told him about being in One Night again this year, he wasn't happy for me at all. He just lectured me about what I shouldn't play like he expects me fail. I'm surprized he's even coming to the show at all this year. I'd like to do a really great job at whatever songs I decide to play, so I can prove to him how good I really am. So, I can make him proud this time. But even if I don't, I'll be proud of myself. I'm learning how to be proud of myself, even when my mom's not here to see my perform and my father isn't happy to see me perform.

It takes a lot of preparation and a lot of practice, but if I work hard this week to learn a new song and work on an old one too, I think I'll be very satisfied with the product in the end. I'm a little nervous about making my father proud, but in the end it's about the show. It's about contributing something brilliant to the show and I'm just proud to be a part of it.

High School (Complex classification)

You see the cliques in those cheesy highschool movies and I think we all like to think that our high school isn't like that. I will say that those movies do grossly overexaggeratte the cliquies at my highschool but I won't deny that they do exist.

It's not as easy as just classifying my peers into groups like "preps", "jocks", and "geeks". It's more than that.

Let's start with the cheerleaders and the athletes. They don't hold as much distinction here as they do in the stupid movies, but trust me they don't go unnoticed. Of course the football players are the most pretigious where bowlers and golfers often go underappreciated. A handful of the cheerleaders I've met have an attitude problem, but most of them are friendly though they won't go out of their way to talk to me. They stay out of my way and I'm perfectly fine with that. There is also the dance team, but I don't hear too much about them.

There are the actors. This category includes the improv. team. They aren't looked at as nerds. It seems like many kids look up to the hilarious improvers. I'm sure the improvers are nice, but I've never really talked to any of them.

There are the members of the show choir groups. At the assemblies where they perform, they appear to go underappreciated. But in truth, many people enjoy watching them perform and respect them. You often notice them because they wear bright yellow jackets with buttons on them. Most of them are nice, though I've met a few snooty ones.

There are the smart kids who take all of the college level courses and get A's in all of them. They aren't really looked down upon in this school, to my knowledge. I envy them, I look up to them. I wish I had their dedication. I've met a few pretentious smart kids, but overall I have a few friends in this category and they are awesome.

I don't want to call this last category the "average" kids because I don't like to use words like "average" or "normal". But these kids are the ones who may be involved in a couple of extracurricular activites, get "average" grades but they don't do anything outstanding. They have friends, they're extremely friendly but they don't neccessarily stand out in a crowd. But that's definetely not a bad thing.

There's the trouble makers, though I don't know much about them. They hang out on the school campus skateboarding and get into fights with the supervisers when they try to kick them out. They argue with teachers and get sent to the hall. I saw a lot more kids like this in middle school, but I don't see as many here.

Then there's me. I don't know where I stand here. I guess I'm just here. I'm not an athlete or a cheerleader and I don't get average grades (my grades are probably considered a little less than average and I'm definetely not proud of that fact). I'm the president of my schools gay-straight alliance. There are a lot of people who know me at this school but I wouldn't neccesarily say I'm popular. I perform in talent shows but I'm not a part of the show choir or the dance team. I guess I'm just a part of this highschool. I'm just another piece to the puzzle. Another kid trying to be themselves when we're in a place where the easiest thing to do is to place everyone into groups - to classify them like they are soups cans on the shelf at a grocery store. Many of us run from it, but as far as we run or as much as we try to deny it, it's here. Here we all are just cans of soup at Walmart.

Valetta (First try at description!)

Valetta is what they call a Mackerel tabby because the patterns on her fur look like fish bones. She is almost all grey but the stripes that cover her are black. Her stomach and chest are a tan color. She has white fur around her mouth that makes it look like she just dipped her chin in a bowl of milk. Her nose is dark tan color and the same dark stripes that cover her body are also on her face. She looks like a little bob cat.

She has these piercing yellow eyes. When she looks at me I feel like she's looking into me. At night, when she's prowling around my room, the pupils of her eyes are so big that they almost consume the yellow in her eyes. During the day, her pupils are tiny little slits. They remind me of snake eyes.

Her fur is so soft, it feels like silk. The fur on her stomach is the most soft, though the pads on her feet are pink and very tough. Her tough is a light pink almost the color of bubble gum. It’s rough and it feels very similar to sandpaper when she licks my hand.

When she meows, she meows at the top of her lungs. Whether she’s begging for food or attention, she makes herself heard. Often at night, she’ll keep me up with her loud meowing or even worse, I’ll hear the sound of the things on my dresser crashing to the floor. Late at night, when I’m trying to sleep she likes to get up on my dresser and push everything off of it. She just sits there, and paws at what sits on my dresser, whether it’s a Cd or a necklace of mine, she paws at it with playful abandon until it comes crashing to the floor. She repeats this process until I lock eyes with her.

Sometimes she doesn’t even meow – she whines and she screams. So loudly, that I swear the people in the apartment next to ours must hear her. She does this when she’s away from me. She’ll paw at the door, she’ll cry until I come in and hold her. It’s similar to the sound of a baby crying or a scared defenseless little animal. When I come and get her, she calms down so rapidly, it’s almost like she’s melting in my hands. She rests her paws on my shoulder and I feel the warmth of the love of a pet and her purring reverberating in her throat.

How to be a Grandchild (Process Analysis)

When you knock on the door, you'll have to be patient. Trust me, they're home. But it will take a couple of minutes for my Grandpa to pull his eyes from the television screen to get up and open that door. When he finally does reach the door, it'll take a couple more minutes for him to actually open the door. He's had that door, that doorknob, that lock for quite a while and yet, still can't manage to remember how to open it.

When you finally enter the house, the smell of mothballs will hit you. It's a strong smell but the more time you spend in the house, the less you notice it, though you will notice, the old furniture, the new flat-screen television resting on top of the broken television from the sixties. You may chuckle at that sight, and my grandpa may ask you what you're laughing about.

You will find my grandmother in the kitchen. She may be baking banana bars or an apple pie. She'll probably look up and smile at you. Then ask you to get her something. Maybe it will be a glass of water, or the sugar canister. She will probably need help getting in the bathtub to wash her hair, or may need you to rub her feet. That's your job.

In the meantime, my grandpa may try to make idle conversation with you. He may or may not bring up his dead bug collection or show you the mouse skeleton he has in a jar. Just politely say no. He may still proceed to show you said dead mouse. If so, just kindly smile, glance at the jar and walk away.

When helping my grandmother in the bathtub, remember to get the big cooler from the kitchen. Set that cooler in the bathtub. She uses that cooler to lower herself into the bathtub. Run hot water for her, but not too hot. Once she gets in the bathtub, you may leave her alone. She can take it from there. She's stubborn and independent. She probably won't let you wash her hair or help her in the bathtub any further, though she may ask you to make her bed.

When making her bed, take off all of the blankets, including the turqoise electric blanket, but leave the mattress pad on the bed. Look in the nightstand, the one with the television sitting on top of it. In the bottom drawer, there should be mismatched pillow cases and sheets. When putting on the fitted sheet, you may scrape your knuckles on the left side of the bed by the wall. Getting that fitted sheet on is a task in itself. Then, when you put on the next sheet, tuck the end of it into the end of the bed and you may also tuck the sides in. Make sure it's straight. Make sure it's not too wrinkled. Then set the turquoise electric blanket on top of the sheets, then place the comforter on top. But make sure it's not crooked. Grandma may be getting older, but she can't stand it when that comforter is crooked. Finally throw the used sheets down the hamper in the bathroom.

When you help my grandma out of the bathtub, help her to hoist herself onto the big cooler. Once she's sitting on that, she can get one leg over the edge of the bathtub and bring herself to her feet. After you get her out of the bathtub, she'll probably ask you to make grandpa supper.

Take the leftovers out of the green tinted triangular containers in the fridge. Take a few spoonful’s of whatever leftovers are in the fridge, put them in the microwave for two minutes. In the meantime, boil water for grandpa’s instant coffee. To make the instant coffee, take a table spoon and open the glass container on the counter that’s shaped like a snowman. The instant coffee is in there. Make sure you get a level spoonful of that - Level! If it's not level, grandpa will complain that it is too strong. Dip the scoop in the sugar canister into the sugar. Get a full scoop, then shake it just a little. Then pour the remaining sugar in the grandpas coffee. Finally, proceed with the leftovers and the coffee and take them out into the living room where grandpa may or may not have fallen asleep with his mouth open on the couch.

At this point, my grandma will hug you and thank you. You may hug my grandpa, but he usually will not get up to hug you. You have officially survived a day with my grandparents. Remember to turn the light on outside of the house and close the door tightly behind you.

Iowa Stubborn

I'm so glad the caucus is over. I would be happier if Ron Paul would've came out on top. But third place is definitely not bad.

Whenever the Iowa Caucus time comes around, it seems like all eyes in the country are on Iowa. Maybe I'm over exaggerating. But it seems like hatred towards Iowa has been on the rise this time around. I could just be paying more attention to it, now that I'm finally old enough to participate in the caucus.

I'd just like to say for the record, that Iowa is not a state of rednecks and corn-fed idiots. I've grown up here and I can honestly say, I think it's one of the best places in America. And though I haven't traveled the world, I've traveled around quite a bit. I've been to New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, California, Texas, Illinois and even to Mexico.

Now on to a smaller scale. Let's focus on my home town - Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Cedar Rapids is the kind of place where people will hold the door open for you. But it's not a town of over-polite sheltered hicks. We have our own attitude. We are our own people.

We have a Wal-Mart, a Target, two different malls, and tons of eating establishments. Cedar Rapids is Iowa's second biggest city. Sure it's not big and glamorous like the places I've seen in California but its home.

I've seen plenty of small towns in Iowa. There's much activity in many of the small towns that I've seen except for farms, family-owned restaurants, some second-hand clothing stores and a few churches. But the people that I've met that are from those small towns are wonderful. They aren't small minded people. They're sweet, bright people that have a love for the smaller things in life that some people in places like California may never possess.

Cedar Rapids is pretty different from the smaller towns is my mind. Not only because we have a bigger population but because we're on the brink of being considered an industrial city. I grew up right by the Quaker Oats factory. I remember waking up in the mornings to walk to Elementary school and getting a whiff of the sweet smells emanating from the factory. I miss those mornings.

In conclusion, I love this state and I love my city. I get tired of hearing people who have never come here and never experienced it in the way I have, complaining about the intellect of the people. We may not be the most culturally diverse state, but you tell me – what is? There’s not a perfect place to hold the first caucus.  I’m glad all of the caucus hubbub is over so I can live here in peace for another four years until the next one comes around. Thank God.

"Your Song"

There's a song that always makes me feel better no matter how down and out I am. It reminds me of the nights my dad and I used to spend singing together to oldies in the basement. It's a timeless classic, and a simple love song.

"Your Song" by Elton John. I used to thumb through my dad's CD's and cassette tapes just to listen to that song. My dad cannot tell you how many times his "One Night Only" CD went missing. "One Night Only" was a live recording of some of Elton John’s biggest hits. I'd fall asleep listening to it.

I always thought it was amazing how Elton John's music and Bernie Taupin's lyrics just jelled together. "Your Song" was the song that catapulted me into being the huge Elton John fan that I'm proud to be now.

I own at least thirty of Elton John's records. Even the original record that "Your Song" was on: his self-titled album. The cover of the album is a picture of the right side of his youthful face. The left side of his face falls into the shadow surrounding him. I've spent hours just listening, watching the record spin. The genre of the music on this record fell more into the folk music category than some of his later pop records and I loved that about it. Elton John is so versatile.

In 2010, I was lucky enough to see my idol live. We had tenth row on the floor seating. I remember how amazing I thought it was. I couldn't believe that I would only be ten rows away from the man himself. Elton John played for three hours straight, without an intermission. He played so many great songs and I mouthed the lyrics to every song right along with him.

He started the show with a personal favorite of mine, "Funeral For a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding." They were two songs combined into one track – the first track on his album, “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”. “Funeral For a Friend” is solely instrumental. It’s a funeral rock song. I don’t know how else to describe it. “Love Lies Bleeding” is a lot more poppy. I believe it’s about a lover leaving because the man was to tied up in his band.

He played a lot of other great songs that night too like "Rocket Man", "Bennie and the Jets", "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" and "Candle in the Wind". But he went out with a bang. He closed the show with the best song of all: "Your Song".