No iPod for Me

The one peice of technology that I could probably live without is my iPod. Granted, I love my 2000 songs and purple headphones, but what are the chances that I'll even listen to all those songs on a daily basis? Plus, my phone can play music and store pictures and access the internet, all the things my iPod can do. I've even left my iPod at the house, by accident, while I was going to school. And I was fine. Since I'm somewhat of a thinker, and love to watch people, commuting back and forth on public transportation is never a drag, even if I forget my iPod. Plus, not having an iPod for the majority of my life played a big part in this. I never needed one growing up and, unlike a cell phone, I won't die without one now. The only real purpose I have for my iPod is to have an awesome playlist at my friends common impromptu parties.

Melanin

For my US History class, I had to read Coming of Age in Mississippi by Anne Moody. The book was about a young black girl who grew up watching her family suffer, stuck under the oppression of others, both whites and blacks. I was used to hearing about the oppression of whites on blacks in the SOuth during the 1950's and 60's, but the black on black oppression surprised me. Because someone was light skinned, they felt like they were better than someone of darker complexion. This led to questions in my mind about mentalities of people now. Are people still thinking like that? Do they judge people based on not only their ethnicity, but also on the deepness of their skintone? Would I be judged as less intelligent, less able to complete certain tasks because I'm darker than most people? This led to me questioning job opportunites, medical care, and other aspects of my life that may be influenced by the simple fact that I am darker than most people amy lke.Has America really changed? Was it less of a problem for Obama to get elected because he was lighter skinned? Would it have been harder if he was my skin tone? Who knows?

The Great Gatsby

The portrayal of the American Dream in the Great Gatsby shows what most people view as the American Dream even til this day: a rich life of glamour and glitz and fun that seems to never end. There are holes in this dream though. In the case of Gatsby, supposedly the most priviledged of all those portrayed in the movie, he was rich, handsome, and had parties to die for. But his heart wasn't yearning for his money or his fame/infamy. His heart yearned for a woman named Daisy. This shows that in spite of the wealth, power and fame that he had acquired, his American Dream was fulfilled, but still left his empty and friendless. Daisy, too, was having issues with her American Dream's fulfillment. She and her husband had a child they both loved, a beautiful home, and a rich and famous friends. But she couldn't keep her husband faithful and her heart still craved the young love between her and Gatsby.

On the other end of the spectrum, there’s a young couple that lives above a garage. The husband is trying to live his American Dream, getting cars, fixing them up, and turning a profit – in effect, owning his own business. His wife’s American Dream however is quite different. She has a rich man on the side, an apartment, and friends for days, who will keep her dirty little secret.

The Great Gatsby shows viewers that even though the American Dream can be fulfilled, it can still leave you feeling empty.

my favorite restaurant

My favorite restaurant would have to be Johnny’s Pizza. The closest one to me is in Fayetteville, GA, next to my old high school. Johnny’s brings the New York pizzeria flavor that I miss so much down to us here in Georgia, who are missing out. The best thing to get on the menu is probably the simplest – a slice of cheese pizza. With the thin, yet crunchy crust, perfect amount of sauce and cheese that falls off the slice, a cheese slice, or a couple of cheese slices, never fails to hit the spot in your stomach and your taste buds.
The atmosphere of Johnny’s is very typical of any New York pizzeria, with red booths, wood covered tables and a counter you can walk up to not only for ordering but also for light conversation with the hostess. With a TV in every corner, showing everything from the news to the current soap operas, to a pizza eater’s favorite sport channel, Johnny’s guests are always entertained.
Johnny’s is the place for memory making. From being the perfect teenage date spot, to just a hang out spot for you and your closest friends, the atmosphere encourages you to sit and stay a while. The staff never rushes you so many of my favorite memories have been made long after the plates have been cleared. Doing anything from writing my best friend a song about his deceased mother on a napkin, to dreaming of leaving Fayetteville and never coming back, Johnny’s is the place for good dreaming an great food.

I want to go home.

So today in the middle of the afternoon, maybe an hour after I had finished wasting away at a Kohl's department store register, I sat at home on the computer, getting ready to type this blog. Suddenly, a siren goes off. Not just in my subdivision or anything. Across the whole town. Now, to understand why I started freaking out, you have to understand where I'm from. In Queens, we didn't have tornado warnings. Granted, we had 9/11 and blackouts and things like that, but I've learned to handle mans mistakes. But as Cory [[the gay man on my job]] said "Mother Nature's a freak." So when she decides that it'll be 70 degrees one minute, then hailing the next, I tremble.

Back to trying to do my blog. I get up and call my best friend and Chuck E. Cheese's to ask him if he heard the sirens. He's nowhere near phased. I describe how the wind had been blowing at 25 mph then just stopped randomly. He's still not phased. I describe the strange orange color outside and how I took 5 water bottles and 5 bags of popcorn into the pantry with me and am going to spend the night there. He's still not phased. Then I hear glass shatter. He flips out.

I stayed in the pantry until I was sure I wasn't going to die. When I finally got the gall to re-enter my living room, what do I find but glass all over the floor. See, Mother Nature threw a quarter sized peice of ice at three of my living room windows and put a tree on my roof. Because that's exactly what I needed. So here I am, at 1:30 in the morning, writing this blog about how this blog almost didn't get written.

Reporting from my room

With the advent of the cell phone, video cameras, and other means of recording whats going on right now, a journalist can be anyone from the girl next door to a two year old who can click and point a camera. If the American Dream is having the ability and equality to be whatever you want, this works perfectly. You can stream live video from your cell phone straight to YouTube, and have a million hits on a video, so long as its news people want to hear. But what about the American Dream of those journalists who went to school to learn how to do their profession to the tee, only to get stuck in this society, where professionalism and crudentials almost don’t matter anymore. Being a child of this era, I think it’s great that just about anyone can make enough YouTube videos and get famous. Many rags to riches stories have started this way. But there’s always the chance that people who are actually doing their jobs as journalists are losing their credibility, because just about ANYONE with a decent phone on their camera and a somewhat steady hand can tell a story.

Granted, now we can find out about news as it’s happening. But is that making everything beetter for everyone, seeing everything as soon as possible and from an eyewitness account? This is what the 21st century holds for us. Maybe the American Dream changes over time.

Hope That You Can Keep It

1. When I first looked at PostSecret, I liked the idea of having secrets that you can tell everyone but still keep secret
2. I think the images were a good manifestation because they left you a visual imprint of what the author was trying to get across.
3. The writing clarified what was in the image, but still only served as a backdrop.
4. The images spoke more to me simply because I'm a picture person.
5. My Favorite Secret
I think this secret is arguing that not everyone in jail is bad but they still all get a bad rep for being in a place that has a negative connotation.

a terrible argument

Having moved to Georgia 3 and a half years ago, you’d think that the question of Coke or Pepsi wouldn’t still perplex me. Or that I’d finally have an answer to Krispy Kreme or Dunkin Donuts? Or everyone’s favorite question: Do you like it better here or in New York? Am I supposed to be able to answer that? New York City is my home, but I’ve lived in Georgia long enough to still feel an identity crisis. New York is a hustling bustling city of opportunities, Georgia is where we moved to get away from the hustle and bustle. In Georgia, people in random cars passing by wave at you like you’ve been friends, whereas if you waved at a stranger in New York, they’d act like they didn’t see you. The food in New York is amazing, the snow is deep, the people are always in a hurry. Georgia is full of trees and fresh air, the summers are scorching, and the people’s version of “hospitality” is knowing my business, from where my great-grandfather worked to why my right pinky nail is a darker color than the rest. Do I want to go home? Yes, that’d be ideal. I wouldn’t need a car, or a lot of money to get food that I don’t really like. BUt here i am, a drifter. So for the meantime, while I'm contemplating how to answer the question of "Georgia or New York," I'll take both places for what they are: the places that have helped shape me into the diverse person that I have become.

The American Dream?

The American Dream is a very fluid thought. For a suburban middle class family, it might be owning their own business, or moving into a bigger house. For a lower class family in the projects, it much be simply puting dinner on the table. Almost everyone that moved to America came here for a better life, came here to be better than they were before. America is the "land of opportunities." So whether someone wants to go from being a single mother to a CEO of a big company or from a nobody to an American Idol, this is supposedly the ideal place to do it.

But what do I think?I think the American Dream is to keep dreaming. Everytime people reach a certain plateau, they look up, see someone else living on the top of the mountain, and keep reaching to get to where they THINK they want to be. Everyone is always watching everyone else, wanting to be everyone else. Keeping up with the Joneses is the American Way.

Thats not a bad thing though, is it? To dream, to look foward to who you could and should be. Bettering yourself isn't bad, is it? Only if your stepping on other peoples, or maybe even your own, feet to do it. But what do I know? I'm in college so I can graduate, and try to live my American Dream.