<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055</id><updated>2009-11-14T07:22:09.562-06:00</updated><title type='text'>mamas de el mar</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>75</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-982460510830544755</id><published>2009-10-22T11:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T11:56:25.747-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Redeeming My Time</title><content type='html'>ever since i started my college career, i have felt this desperate need to redeem the time i lost after high school. you see, i am not your traditional student...i messed up my life in so many ways after i graduated from high school. so, i have felt blessed with the opportunity to redeem myself. the wonderful opportunity, however, came with a huge responsibility: DO IT RIGHT!!! thus, i have been killing myself for each grade. i have struggled through many semesters, but i have never faltered. you see, my dear reader, i was trying to redeem my past. in vain i have tried, only to come to the sudden realization that i can't. only Jesus can redeem me--my past, my fears, and my sins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below is a beautiful poem written by Jael Sprinkle. Thank you so much!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sits and studies in a chair&lt;br /&gt;Near the window&lt;br /&gt;With clear air&lt;br /&gt;Filtering through&lt;br /&gt;Releasing cares of&lt;br /&gt;Her grow-up life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's a girl again&lt;br /&gt;Sweet and pretty&lt;br /&gt;With a mind and a will&lt;br /&gt;And a dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the woman inside her&lt;br /&gt;brings the fight that lights&lt;br /&gt;her alive and gives her a drive&lt;br /&gt;and keeps her turning&lt;br /&gt;page upon page upon&lt;br /&gt;pencil scratched page&lt;br /&gt;til she's written the world&lt;br /&gt;exactly the way&lt;br /&gt;she wishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a fight-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the light's gone low&lt;br /&gt;her supper's cold&lt;br /&gt;but she closes her book and&lt;br /&gt;turns off the lamp.&lt;br /&gt;Quietly she crosses the living room&lt;br /&gt;to kiss her sleeping husband who waited&lt;br /&gt;until he dozed on the couch, the television on.&lt;br /&gt;She presses "off" then makes her way down&lt;br /&gt;the hall to her sleeping daughters&lt;br /&gt;to catch a glimpse of their small faces&lt;br /&gt;to remember the reason she's turning the pages&lt;br /&gt;of a life once stale, now full, overflowing&lt;br /&gt;with trying and fighting and pushing and moving&lt;br /&gt;everything around until it fits&lt;br /&gt;just the way she wanted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her life, once small, now large enough&lt;br /&gt;for grandchildren and intelligent love&lt;br /&gt;and students that might never have known&lt;br /&gt;this lovely world that she has presented to them&lt;br /&gt;from the crisp pages&lt;br /&gt;she was up til midnight&lt;br /&gt;crafting with her very soul&lt;br /&gt;to move their very souls&lt;br /&gt;to see the world&lt;br /&gt;she wrote for her children's children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have my every confidence. Hang in there friend!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-982460510830544755?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/982460510830544755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=982460510830544755' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/982460510830544755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/982460510830544755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/10/redeeming-my-time.html' title='Redeeming My Time'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-361613666470551065</id><published>2009-10-18T16:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T17:00:39.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>for the week ending 10/16</title><content type='html'>well, another week is in the books. i did so-so and i'm just glad the week is over. there are now officially eight weeks left in the semester. and, eight times 3 is 24, so that means that i have 24 more days of this agonizing term left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grammar: we learned about adverbs and particles. particles are actually a lot of fun. they can be moved around in a sentence with no problem. i.e. Gage put off the operation. Gage put the operation off. She turned in the exam. She turned the exam in. OFF and IN are the particles and they can be moved around in a sentence. adverbs, on the other hand, are not fun at all! i actually have to engage my brain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hemingway: we started a farewell to arms. i wish i had read romeo and juliet. a farewell to arms is suppose to be hemingway's romeo and juliet and i don't see the comparisons because i've never read romeo and juliet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;american novel: we are still reading the scarlet letter. what can i say? dimmesdale put himself through hell for not confessing. hester, on the other hand, seems to me like she gave the puritans "h*ll" by defiantly wearing the scarlet letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;descriptive linguistics: i missed monday's lecture, and i had a lost feeling all week. i missed the lecture on prepositional phrases. we took a quiz on friday. i know for sure that i labeled "may" as a complement, when it was really an auxilary verb. oh, well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;literary theory: I'M DYING!!!!!!! i really don't get "IT." i think the schools are fighting over abstract things that will never have an absolute answer. to think that some people have made this their life's work is mind-boggling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en francais: i'm still trying to learn french. i am reading "le petit prince." c'est tres interessant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is it for this past week. i need to work on some homework that is due tommorow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;au revoir!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-361613666470551065?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/361613666470551065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=361613666470551065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/361613666470551065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/361613666470551065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/10/for-week-ending-1016.html' title='for the week ending 10/16'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-3275390986319168778</id><published>2009-10-09T16:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T16:48:14.701-05:00</updated><title type='text'>for the week ending on 10/08</title><content type='html'>this week was a mixed bag.  on the one hand, i received excellent grades on two tests.  on the other hand, I AM BEAT!!! i feel beat both mentally and physically.  And, there is still nine more agonzing weeks before this is all over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, here we go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grammar:  Are "a" and "an" indefinite or definite articles?  Well, let me tell you, judging by the three points I lost on the test, they are INDEFINITE articles.  If I had taken the time to engage my brain, I think I would have gotten the right answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me see, what else?  we started studying adverbs today.  i think adverbs are the hardest, most misunderstood, i-don't-want-to-study-them kind of words.  why?  i guess because they are unclear to me.  for example, i have adjectives down pat:  a part of speech that modifies a noun. i.e., beautiful, handsome, pretty, etc.  but, adverbs modify verbs.  hmm?  if they end in -ly, i have no problem.  but, enough already about adverbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hemingway:  i took a test last friday and did well.  what would i be able to say about hemi that would add to the extensive scholarship that already exists?  NOTHING!! we read short stories all of this week; mostly about Italy.  i do wonder, though, if he saw/experienced first hand the change of values after wwi.  we all know that he served with the italians during the war, but did he realize all that had changed after the war when he went back? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;American Novel:  we have started reading the scarlet letter.  ah, hester, hester, why did you get yourself into so much trouble?  was dimmesdale worth it?  or was it that chillingsworth was not worth keeping? the puritans, you must admit, were extremely harsh and practically Godless.  they had NO mercy!  perhaps my statement is harsh, but i wonder how could they demonstrate God's mercy? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descriptive Linguistics:  oh, my goodness!  trees, trees, and more trees.  S--&gt; NP VP.  or S--&gt; NP VP PP, something like that. we took a quiz today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Literary Theory:  dr. b lectured on historical criticism and the yellow wallpaper.  she nearly had a confession out of me.  "yes, it's too true!  i am the woman in the yellow wallpaper trying desperately to get out!  i have need to work--I have not worked these passed 11 years."&lt;br /&gt;ay, ay, ay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;et parce qu'est vendredi, aujourd'hui, je suis allee a mon "cours" de francais. &lt;/em&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't do too well.  i need to take these french lessons more seriously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is all folks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we will see what the next week will bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bien a vous!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-3275390986319168778?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/3275390986319168778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=3275390986319168778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/3275390986319168778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/3275390986319168778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/10/for-week-ending-on-1008.html' title='for the week ending on 10/08'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-3608846054615646987</id><published>2009-09-28T23:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T23:35:39.271-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The French Correction</title><content type='html'>Below is an email conversation with my French tutor. Her email is the first one, of course, she is responding to what I sent her (which is the second one--with all the corrections). What can I say, but "Ben, un jour je poudrais ecrive le francais." (I think that is right, I don't know. I should probably include it in my next email to her.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm soo sorry to hear that you're not good, but don't worry, your normal classes and your home come first! French tutoring should not be a burden for you so if you feel too busy, stressed or tired don't worry... you'll just do the excercise later, even if it's a week after!Your French is not bad at all (I corrected some things, but it's still good :) ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now I'll just say try to rest !!! and Good luck for tomorrow, I'm sure everything will go well :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like i should label this email with a warning, such as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAUTION: You are about to read horrible French--please forgive me for I know not what I write!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonjour!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ça va pas mal &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;[you would say "ça va mal" or "ça ne va pas" and if you want to insist on the fact that it's you, you should say "je vais mal" or "je ne vais pas bien"]&lt;/span&gt; (is it avec moi? to say that it doesn't go well with me. or do I say pour moi--to say for me?) Je suis très occupée parce que mon emploi du temps c'est &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;[no need for "c'" you should say mon emploi du temps est très chargé]&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;très chargé. Demain je passer&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;[je passes]&lt;/span&gt; un examen dans mon cour &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;[de]&lt;/span&gt; descriptive linguistics. C’est très difficile ! Mais, je ne veux pas étudier plus.&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;[it's ok!]&lt;/span&gt; (I’m trying to say that I don’t want to study anymore.) Je suis très fatiguée maintenant. Je fais &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;[you should use past tense, and you would say then "j'ai fais" ]&lt;/span&gt; le ménage aujourd’hui, parce que je suis le esclave/slave/esclava&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; [ une esclave]&lt;/span&gt; dans ma maison et j’etudie aujourd’hui, aussi. Je veux faire mes devoirs du &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;[de]&lt;/span&gt; Français demain après mon cours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au revior !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-3608846054615646987?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/3608846054615646987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=3608846054615646987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/3608846054615646987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/3608846054615646987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/09/french-correction.html' title='The French Correction'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-4297854443466876598</id><published>2009-09-20T17:12:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T16:19:20.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what i've learned/what i know</title><content type='html'>several years ago, i would post these entries throughout my semester. i want to start writing them again. i think they give me a good pulse on how my semester is going. they also help me count my long weeks down. so here we go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; learned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school started on august 31, and tomorrow will be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;september&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 21--i guess that is about three weeks? (i really don't feel like doing the math :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grammar&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it turns out i really like the professor, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. heckler. although he seems like a very serious man, he has these little quirks and sayings that make him very affable. so far &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; done o.k. in the class. i do remember, however, a homework assignment that appears to be bleeding profusely. my only saving grace is that homework is only corrected, but not graded--thank you Lord! another very interesting tidbit I've learned is the origin of the word grammar. according to the professor it comes from the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;greek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; word &lt;em&gt;"&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;gramma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" &lt;/em&gt;which means something in writing. and then the french word &lt;em&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;grammaire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; which was a combination of occult and learning. the occult learning, of course, was done when the church prevented the people from learning how to read or write. therefore, it was done in secret. he had another comment on the word spell--which could mean putting words together with the alphabet or as in magic, a magic spell. i don't know about you, but i find that kind of nerdy stuff very interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hemingway&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we have mostly gone through his short stories and should be starting &lt;em&gt;The Sun Also Rises&lt;/em&gt; tomorrow. my biggest connection or apparent thought process is whether or not Hemingway meant to correlate the still born baby at the end of &lt;em&gt;A Farewell to Arms &lt;/em&gt;to the fake peace agreements after World War I. when i worked on a mid-term for my history class last semester, i came across that theme. it was by a guy named Edmond Taylor in his book, &lt;em&gt;The Fall of the Dynasties, &lt;/em&gt;written in 1963. this is what he thought WWI was about and its consequences, "...the story of the decline and fall and rebirth of despotism, of blind leaders and deluded masses of old wrongs perpetuated and of new ones imposed, of revolution leading to war and war leading to revolutions, of peace still-born, of hopes once more aroused and again betrayed, of vast regressions, of one small, halting step forward" (397). i don't know, haven't studied enough to know if Hemingway was making that same connection, but i think it a nice coincidence (even if it exist only in my brain).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dev. of Am. Novel&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously, i have no opinion to give. or rather, i will keep it to myself for now. suffice it to say, i want my money back!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Descriptive Linguistics&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is proving to be a hard class. is it ox/en or oxen. how many morphemes? is it human/&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;itari&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;/an? discreteness? arbitrariness? mode of communication? morphology? phonology? i must say, it is all &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;GREEKOLOGY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to me! i will find out tomorrow (probably) when the professor returns the quiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Survery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of Literary Theory&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this week we read "The Yellow Wallpaper" and "Ode on a Grecian Urn." i so wished that i had paid a little more attention to the presentation on the yellow wallpaper given by some students when i was in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mrs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. sample's class. i must admit that i had never read the story in its &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;entirety. apparently the woman is suffering from post-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;partum&lt;/span&gt; depression. but, it is my impression that she had suffered all of her life with mental illness; which is what i wrote because i think the professor wanted to hear our thoughts--no matter how crazy (no pun intended, of course) they were. as far as Keats poem, my pitiful attempt at interpreting the last sentence, "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,"--that is all / Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know" is that the beauty of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;grecian&lt;/span&gt; urn is the only thing (perhaps not the only thing, but an important thing) that has remained from that ancient civilization. that is my story, and i guess i can stick to it, until someone tells me why &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what i know&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know that my body is breaking down. i have awful pains in my legs. and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; trying to get back into jogging with little success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my one bright and shining spot in the whole week was the one hour i spent with my french tutor. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;je&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;suis&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tres&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;heurese&lt;/span&gt;. i am very happy. the bible instructs us not to despise the day of small beginnings. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt; was such a day of small beginnings for me. my hope and dream is to learn french. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;c'est&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mon&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;reve&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bientot&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-4297854443466876598?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/4297854443466876598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=4297854443466876598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4297854443466876598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4297854443466876598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-ive-learnedwhat-i-know.html' title='what i&apos;ve learned/what i know'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-4067485094862331826</id><published>2009-09-03T07:50:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T08:13:47.057-05:00</updated><title type='text'>senior citizen</title><content type='html'>my senior year at the university of texas-pan american began this week. oh my goodness! i am terrified. i don't know what i will do, or if i will graduate in may. not only do all the stars have to line-up, but so do all the classes that i need to fulfill my double major requirements. i am taking five (yes, 5) english classes. i don't think i was thinking clearly when i signed up for them. but maybe if i try to explain it to myself, it will make sense to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why i'm taking the 5 english classes i signed up for this semester&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first of all, i'm taking &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;English Grammar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't think i need to do a lot of explaining--i need help! the class and professor seem very interesting. he has little quirks that i am teaching my brain to ignore--such as a sort of bouncing up on his toes when he speaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my second class is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Hemingway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am taking this class with a professor i had last semester. he is an awesome professor and it was really an easy choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my third class is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Development of the American Novel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. i signed up for this class because i am hoping that by reading the historical novels of american history it will sort of fill out my history major. we will be reading novels such as &lt;em&gt;The Last of the Mohican's, Red Badge of Courage, The Grapes of Wrath, etc.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my fourth class is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Descriptive Linguistics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. this class is a required course for english majors--so i really didn't have a choice. the class is surprisingly very interesting! i have learned amazing things (like why my daughters are still not speaking spanish), in the first two days of class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my fifth class is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Survey of Literary Theory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. again, this is a required course for english majors. i really don't have an opinion of the class because we have been going over the rules and procedures and how to use blackboard. it actually sounds a little bit scary! ideas that are above my IQ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there it is in a nutshell--no history classes. i told my husband that i feel like i am eating my vegetables this semester (except for the hemingway class), and i will have my dessert next semester when i can take my history classes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-4067485094862331826?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/4067485094862331826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=4067485094862331826' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4067485094862331826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4067485094862331826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/09/senior-citizen.html' title='senior citizen'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-5671823576115922695</id><published>2009-08-27T22:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T23:04:41.864-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dub-ya</title><content type='html'>i &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; my first &lt;em&gt;W &lt;/em&gt;on my transcript during the second summer session.  i had never before dropped or withdrawn from a class.  ashamedly so, i feel like a loser and a quitter.  i feel like i quit on something and up until then i had not been a quitter.  struggle as i might have, i had never quit!  due to unavoidable issues (that i don't want to go into right now), i could not see myself successfully negotiating the course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;c'est&lt;/span&gt; la vie!  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other than that small snag, i have been fine.  my next semester starts on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;monday&lt;/span&gt;, and i really don't want to think about it.  i am going to be swamped with fifteen hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess we will see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-5671823576115922695?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/5671823576115922695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=5671823576115922695' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/5671823576115922695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/5671823576115922695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/08/dub-ya.html' title='Dub-ya'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-6742888938122730224</id><published>2009-05-15T08:15:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T17:45:01.416-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what i learned in french class</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Chere Amie, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Comment-vas tu? Est-ce que tu vas bien? Je m'appelle Patricia. Je suis etudiante a l'universite "University of Texas-Pan American." J'ai 36 ans et j'ai deux filles. Mes filles sont tres sociables. Mon mari est tres agreable, aussi. Je voudrais parler francais parce que j'aime le francais! Je veux voyager en France un jour. Un jour je veux etre professeur de litterature ou histoire americain en France. J'etudie l'histoire americain, la litterature, et le francais ce semestre. J'aime beaucoup l'historie, aussi. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Voici mon emploi du temps. Le lundi, le mecredi, et le vendredi je vais a l'universite. A neuf heures moins le quart, je vais a mon cours d' historiography. Le professeur c'est Dr. Faubion. Apres mon cours d'historiography, je vais a mon cours du Francais. Mon professeur c'est Madame Fara. Ensuite, je vais a mon cours de l'litterature a onze heures moins le quart. Mon professeur c'est Dr. Laprade. Apres mon cours de l'litterature, je vais manger. J'ai une heure et demie pour manger. Ensuite je vais a mon derniere cours de l'histoire avec mes professeurs Dr. Weaver et Dr. Faubion. Apres tous mes cours, je suis tres fatiguee! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;qu'est que vous pensez? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;voici une photo de ma famille:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-6742888938122730224?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/6742888938122730224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=6742888938122730224' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/6742888938122730224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/6742888938122730224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-i-learned-in-french-class.html' title='what i learned in french class'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VwfCzW6i74k/SqGRhPbMLLI/AAAAAAAAAB0/jyzOgSSWnes/s72-c/fayewebbfirstday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-4039732700248551586</id><published>2009-05-06T22:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T22:45:59.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>almost dead..umm... i mean done</title><content type='html'>i am in the final lap of this miserable semester.  i took my final in historiography today, and i feel incredibly stupid!  can you imagine missing the same question THREE TIMES??? yes, that is exactly what i did. mind you, i studied yesterday.  i have this grayish mass in between my two ears that kept telling me the wrong answer.  for some inexplicable reason, i kept using this word association thing that didn't give me the right answer.  Braudel was a proponent of macrohistory.  but, much to my desperate chagrin, i kept wanting to say that braudel=broad which meant microhistory.  seriously, i think that if i took the test again tomorrow, i WOULD STILL GET IT WRONG!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on another note, i dropped a maymester course that i had foolishly signed up for.  what was i thinking that i could get my girls to school by 7:20 a.m. every day for three weeks.  it was a fail proof way to disaster.  plus, once i remembered all of the end of the school year assemblies and celebrations, i figured i would have to miss most of them.  i really didn't want to miss these special days that will never return. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, then, i have to ask myself, "who cares if i'm 50 years old and decrepit by the time i get a bachelor's degree?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-4039732700248551586?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/feeds/4039732700248551586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5475725721027475055&amp;postID=4039732700248551586' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4039732700248551586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4039732700248551586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/05/almost-deadumm-i-mean-done.html' title='almost dead..umm... i mean done'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-3557538133219131723</id><published>2009-04-15T00:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T00:26:32.479-05:00</updated><title type='text'>until a research paper do us part...</title><content type='html'>my quasi love affair with writing is on the rocks. i am trying to finish up my research paper, and i have writer's block. it is actually painful to write. what's ironic about this whole thing is that i can write forever. i like to write. and to add to the stupidity of all of this, I'VE DONE MY RESEARCH!! yes, that's right, i've gone through at least 15-20 sources, some primary and some secondary. i have the material that i need, but i can't write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll tell you what is at the root of the matter. i was told that i needed to type 20-30 pages. anytime i am given a NUMBER OF PAGES, i freeze! i can't think of anything, but the NUMBER!! the last time i had a paper due for this history class, 8 was the magic number and i completely froze on that, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to add to how crazy and pathetic this is, i remember writing excessively in my other history classes i took at del mar. they were darn near dissertations or at the very least a thesis. the professor would ask for 14 &lt;em&gt;lines &lt;/em&gt;in a response or writing assignments and i would write paragraphs upon paragraphs until i had several pages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;does anyone out there have the same thing happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by the way, the paper is due tomorrow. i, my dear reader, will turn it in late on thursday. i just can't do it. i have 12 pages (i know because every time i write a sentence i scroll down to the end of my document to see how much more i have to go!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-3557538133219131723?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/3557538133219131723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/3557538133219131723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/04/until-research-paper-do-us-part.html' title='until a research paper do us part...'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-6778836806677027944</id><published>2009-03-30T22:02:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T18:21:44.403-05:00</updated><title type='text'>signs of life</title><content type='html'>i went out to run today...and it felt great! i need to get my rear in gear if i'm going to run in beach to bay. i believe it is in 7 weeks. i'm going to give my activity logs another shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: jogged for 20 minutes (at a half decent pace) and walked for 10 minutes (&lt;em&gt;mas o menos)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i will see you back here tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the french front:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;bonjour, mon ami. comment-vas tu? est-ce que tu vas bien? je suis tres fatiguee parce que je suis alle a l'universite au jourd'hui. je vais dormir. a bientot!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-6778836806677027944?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/6778836806677027944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/6778836806677027944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/03/signs-of-life.html' title='signs of life'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-2305507779773326934</id><published>2009-03-26T10:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T23:41:01.257-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my life...</title><content type='html'>my life is a beautiful idea that i all too often neglect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why? i, like my namesake in the bible, am regularly caught up with the blasted details of life's trifles. the unforgiving daily chores that become fastidious taskmasters. CLEAN THE KITCHEN! WASH THOSE DISHES! WASH THE NEVER ENDING MOUNTAIN OF LAUNDRY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all the while, life (as beautiful as it is) is passing me by...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-2305507779773326934?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/2305507779773326934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/2305507779773326934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-life.html' title='my life...'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-8876320883861110056</id><published>2009-03-26T08:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T09:03:34.008-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a streetcar named Degenerate</title><content type='html'>i don't think i have ever had such a strong reaction against a piece of literature as i feel for this play. i simply don't see any artistic value in it--i think it is as degenerate as they come. i particularly didn't like the last scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my question, then, is why and how is it that this play can be called a &lt;em&gt;classic?&lt;/em&gt; it is entirely possible that i am too closed minded and a simpleton. i fail, however, to see any redeeming qualities of a play in which a mentally ill woman is raped by her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bestial&lt;/span&gt; brother-in-law and then sent to an asylum by her callous and calculating sister!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-8876320883861110056?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/8876320883861110056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/8876320883861110056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/03/streetcar-named-degenerate.html' title='a streetcar named Degenerate'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-6144786490027141281</id><published>2009-03-21T17:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T17:22:18.777-05:00</updated><title type='text'>signed? sealed? and not delivered?</title><content type='html'>in vain have i waited...i have waited in vain.  (how's that for redundancy?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously, i have waited in vain to read about how wonderful and great i am as a scholar.  i have patiently awaited the good news, but to no avail.  you see, i asked two professors for letters of recommendation, so that i may apply for a scholarship.  i have not received either one of them.  i'm in denial, of course, and i'm blaming the awful postal service.  those dirty, rotten scoundrels have misplaced my letters!  i'm sure of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a more serious note, i'm still grounded as far as my research paper goes.  i do have one sentence that i would love to include, but i'm not sure it's very scholarly.  it goes something along these lines, President Truman's remark on April 23, 1945 echoed the pragmatic and not so diplomatic sentiments of some Americans, "...if the Russians did not wish to join us they could go to hell."  the story is very interesting, especially since we have the advantage of seeing how all of the events of the cold war played out.  i'm sure they were very trying times, however.  the fact that diplomacy did not prevail, and that the u.s. and russia endured such harsh international relations for decades is sobering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-6144786490027141281?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/6144786490027141281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/6144786490027141281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/03/signed-sealed-and-not-delivered.html' title='signed? sealed? and not delivered?'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-5220431978061441638</id><published>2009-03-14T23:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T14:50:42.785-05:00</updated><title type='text'>saturday night research fever</title><content type='html'>it's a saturday night, and i'm working on a research paper. does that sound wrong or what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the first five pages of my research paper are due the wednesday i get back from spring break. i really want to do well on this paper, so i'm trying to gather the information i need. the paper is on the marshall plan and the coming cold war. i like the topic (i should, i chose it!), but i really don't have the energy to work on it. i have been gathering info here and there. i've read "the tragedy of american diplomacy" and find williams arguments very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is me leading the glamorous life of a student! i'll tell you what, it "ain't" easy being a renaissance girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so here is to all the moms trying to get a college degree with kids, husband, house, and everything else in tow!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-5220431978061441638?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/5220431978061441638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/5220431978061441638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/03/saturday-night-research-fever.html' title='saturday night research fever'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-8210988725795587029</id><published>2009-03-06T16:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T16:20:35.124-06:00</updated><title type='text'>mid-term mania</title><content type='html'>well...you know you are up to your eyeballs in mid-terms when...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was in the library studying for an exam.  when i went to buy a blue book and a drink, i told the attendant, "i'm taking the drink and the mid-term."  (all the while pointing at the blue book) i think she understands mid-term speak because she just grabbed the blue book and handed it to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-8210988725795587029?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/8210988725795587029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/8210988725795587029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/03/mid-term-mania.html' title='mid-term mania'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-312858060182781828</id><published>2009-03-05T21:24:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T21:50:42.052-06:00</updated><title type='text'>party time</title><content type='html'>(as in pity party!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's my blog, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wah&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wah&lt;/span&gt; if i want to...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wah&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wah&lt;/span&gt; if i want to...you would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wah&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wah&lt;/span&gt; too if it happened to you... (i would use cry, but i'm too much of a chicken and worry about copyright rules :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; at my wits end!!! &lt;em&gt;no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;puedo&lt;/span&gt; mas!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; under a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;pressure&lt;/span&gt; cooker, and &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; goose is cooked!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i was to be perfectly honest with you my dear, dear reader, i would tell you that my spirit is troubled and heavy. a thousand times i have asked myself what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; doing and where in the ... did i (at my 30 something, dangerously close to 40years of age) get the idea that i could be SOMEBODY! the problem is that i can't quit. i can't quit. i can't quit. why? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; glad you asked. i can't quit because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; the star of my own story, "THE LITTLE IDIOT THAT COULD."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, that's right folks! step right up, step right up, and see this little dumb*#@ attempt what is downright and outright outlandish. will she or won't she? will she break under the pressure and give up on herself? or won't she seem all the more pathetic for trying? what will it be? right now it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;any body's&lt;/span&gt; guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't be all things at all times. i can't be a college student/&lt;br /&gt;mother/wife/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;pta&lt;/span&gt;/housekeeper/bookkeeper/individual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;To everything there is a season, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A time for every purpose under heaven:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;**************&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A time to break down, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A time to build up;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A time to weep, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a time to laugh;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A time to mourn, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And a time to dance;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apparently, this is my time to break down. we will see what time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt; brings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;bonsoir&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;mon&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;cheri&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;lectuer&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;je&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;fait&lt;/span&gt; mes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;devoirs&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-312858060182781828?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/312858060182781828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/312858060182781828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/03/party-time.html' title='party time'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-4242777762223695276</id><published>2009-02-10T22:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T22:16:36.810-06:00</updated><title type='text'>telling time</title><content type='html'>i currently have about 31 hours to go for my bachelor's degree.  so let me break it down:  let's say that i take 6 hours in the summer, o.k. that leaves 25, right?  then i take 12 in the fall, that would leave 13 right?  but how do you take 13 hours?  i guess i would have to take 15, and that is TOO many hours for this mama.  12 hours this semester is killing me!  if i could take a maymester course, that would be awesome!  but, what kind of history course or english course can you take in two weeks?  and, by the way, six hours in the summer sounds like murder to me.  i have to figure out childcare and work load for the classes, and a host of other things.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i wish i could stand on a bench at u.t.p.a and preach to young girls.  "look at me, i'm struggling to raise a family, keep a house afloat, check my kids homework and do my homework!  don't be a fool (like me!) and stay in school!"  but, other than the little thing of making a real fool out of myself, would the young girls listen?  probably not.  i guess we each have to make our own mistakes, and then we have to live with them.  to each his or her own mistake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-4242777762223695276?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4242777762223695276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4242777762223695276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/02/telling-time.html' title='telling time'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-7918604010543338701</id><published>2009-02-08T23:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T23:37:05.454-06:00</updated><title type='text'>no olive branch, yet</title><content type='html'>a few posts ago, i wrote about "what i want to say." well...i haven't had much success in one of the categories. i wrote to someone who i have sort of drifted away from, but the dove has not returned with any signs. perhaps it died in flight, i don't know. have you ever had that happen to you? {honestly, we know that is a rhetorical question because there are no comments on this blog.} you send out a communication offering and not see it returned? you wonder if you did something, or perhaps (worse, yet) you know that there was something, but can't really define what "it" was that caused the silience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is a situation, though, in my life in which, i'm the one that has not returned the phone calls, and probably never will. i'm too hurt, and i can't seem to forgive. until i stop feeling hurt, offended, and rejected, I don't think I can forgive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enough with the sad, sob story for now, though. i have to read for historiography. we will probably have a quiz, and i don't want to have an anxiety attack when the time comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;au revoir, mon cheri lecteur. je fait mes devoirs. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-7918604010543338701?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/7918604010543338701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/7918604010543338701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/02/no-olive-branch-yet.html' title='no olive branch, yet'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-6874973253950084319</id><published>2009-02-05T10:24:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T10:31:31.093-06:00</updated><title type='text'>gotta run</title><content type='html'>i'm in the throes of silent rebellion. i don't want to exercise! i haven't ran since november. why? i guess because i just don't want to. my knees have been bothering me slightly and that is enough for me to "punk out." my problem, however, is that if i'm going to run in my 6th beach-to-bay in may, i need to start running. running in corpus christi in may is a lovely daydream i like to entertain, so i'll probably start running this week. i'll keep you all posted. a distant memory of bygone posts about activity logs rings a fading bell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school is going fine, though. i like my classes for the most part. i need to get busy with my research paper on the marshall plan and the coming cold war. all i need is PLAN! that, and to be told what to do. i work better when i'm told what to do. some people are born to lead, and others are born to follow. i think i fall in the latter (as pathetic as that sounds). ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-6874973253950084319?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/6874973253950084319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/6874973253950084319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-in-throes-of-silent-rebellion.html' title='gotta run'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-8809216000730561560</id><published>2009-01-15T15:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T15:16:05.795-06:00</updated><title type='text'>school daze</title><content type='html'>do you remember the little school bus cut-out that the children wear the first days of school.  the one with yarn?  the one that has their name, the name of their teacher, and classroom number, etc., in case they get lost?  i sure could of used one yesterday!  i worked up the &lt;em&gt;cran &lt;/em&gt;to ask the French professor if i could be an auditor in her class, and she said yes.  Great!  right?  well i was so excited about my second day of french, i completely forgot about my american literature class right after!  i strolled down to a computer lab after the free french class, printed some lecture notes for my afternoon class, went to the student union to buy some coffee...and then i woke up and smelled it!!  it suddenly dawned on me that i was supposed to be in my literature class, not parading down campus!  i rushed out like a sort of goblin running with my cup of coffee and spilling it all over my hand (had it been scalding, i would have had second degree burns to be sure!).  i walked into class with my racing heart in my hand, hoping that i would not be counted absent.  ay, ay, ay!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-8809216000730561560?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/8809216000730561560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/8809216000730561560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/01/school-daze.html' title='school daze'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-739791702494115590</id><published>2009-01-09T14:56:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T15:22:20.395-06:00</updated><title type='text'>how to make so-so banana bread</title><content type='html'>due to our collective "hard times" as a country, i have decided to become more...let me see, what is the word? FRUGAL??? so, i did not want to throw out some very ripe bananas that were on the counter and decided to make banana bread, instead. however, although my name is Martha, my last name is definitely not Stewart. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first i had to get a recipe for banana bread from the food network website. then i had to make several trips to the grocery store. so much for ending global warming with me up and down the road. on the upside, however, maybe it (wasting gas) is good for the economy? i don't have the staples of a baker in my house: parchment paper, baking soda (the kind i could use and not the kind i could get from my refrigerator), and i forgot what else. so, after wrangling all the ingredients, i proceed to make the five star banana bread. Then I made a fatal mistake:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want some banana bread?" I ask my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How does it taste?" he answers with a question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My six year old pipes up, "It taste so-so."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i looked sharply at her and thought of firing off, "First of all, I don't think a six year old has a true appreciation for &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;GREAT&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; banana bread. Furthermore, I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU DO BETTER!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, i didn't want to enter into a battle of wits. but, my banana bread has officially been renamed the "so-so banana bread." the five star recipe i printed somehow didn't get the five star treatment at my house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-739791702494115590?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/739791702494115590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/739791702494115590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-to-make-so-so-banana-bread.html' title='how to make so-so banana bread'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-8984401573256356372</id><published>2009-01-06T23:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T23:45:30.382-06:00</updated><title type='text'>what i want to say</title><content type='html'>this is year, i have decided that i will not leave things unsaid. so, with that in mind:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have so many people that i need to write to or call. old friends, that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not even sure if they are still friends. why? well, things change, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; moved around a couple of times. and then there are the misunderstandings, etc., etc. i will start tomorrow by writing to at least one person on that list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to say "thank you" to the people that have helped me. sometimes, i get in such a hurry, that i forget to acknowledge their help. for example, the other day i had a doctor's appointment and my neighbor picked up my kids from school and kept them until my husband picked them up. i don't recall saying thank you (and that eats at me because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; really grateful, but as it stands now, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; just rude).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to write my dreams/goals/aspirations down in black and white; as crazy and far-fetched as they might be. let me give this a stab: my heart yearns for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;california&lt;/span&gt;. why? i have no one to visit there, but for some crazy and oddball reason i want to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;go &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;california&lt;/span&gt;. my heart pulls me that way. my dad used to work there in the canneries when i was young. perhaps because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;california&lt;/span&gt; was a part of my formative years, i feel a connection to it. another reoccurring day dream is the one that i live on a beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;mexican&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;hacienda&lt;/em&gt; and my life is beyond laid back. i have no worries about money, my daughters are grown and are successful, and my biggest decision is what delicious meal i will have for lunch (around 3:00 p.m.). &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt;, let's see will it be &lt;em&gt;enchiladas, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;chiles&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;rellenos&lt;/span&gt;, or mole&lt;/em&gt;? i can see the &lt;em&gt;hacienda &lt;/em&gt;in my mind. it has a wrap around arched &lt;em&gt;portal&lt;/em&gt; all around it. the courtyard is carpeted with lush grass and i have most of my afternoon meals there. sheltered under a huge tree is an ornate wrought iron table covered with fine linens and exquisite place settings. the only thing i haven't figured out is if i live on the &lt;em&gt;hacienda &lt;/em&gt;before or after i teach &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;american&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;british&lt;/span&gt; history and literature in one of the universities in &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Queretaro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. my husband says that with the situation in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;mexico&lt;/span&gt; getting worse every day, he will NEVER live in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;mexico&lt;/span&gt;. but, a girl can dream, can't she? of course, the usual far-away-lands are part of my day dreams, such as Paris, London, etc. ;) after reading four books on napoleon this past semester, i would love to travel in Europe. reading &lt;em&gt;the guns of august &lt;/em&gt;now is only flaming that desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;above everything, i want to say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; sorry. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; sorry for anything i might have said, intentionally or not, to anyone and hurt his/her feelings. i don't want to live with remorse. when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; talked to my mom about things i would have liked to either work out differently or things in the past i want to change, she only says, "&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;seria&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;muy&lt;/span&gt; bonito &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;si&lt;/span&gt; la &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;vida&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;fuera&lt;/span&gt; perfecta, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;pero&lt;/span&gt; no es &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;patricia&lt;/span&gt;. nos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;equivocamos&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;porque&lt;/span&gt; no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;somos&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;perfectos&lt;/span&gt;." &lt;/em&gt;so there you have it folks, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; hurt others because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; not perfect. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; made wrong decisions for the same reason. all i can do now is try to redeem my time through Jesus Christ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-8984401573256356372?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/8984401573256356372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/8984401573256356372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-i-want-to-say.html' title='what i want to say'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-1687140642304436589</id><published>2008-12-27T22:51:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T22:33:31.339-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My 2008 Resolutions Revisited</title><content type='html'>My 2008 Resolutions Revisited:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. try to enjoy my classes! &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;i did so-so in this category. i enjoyed most of them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. do not procrastinate! use my planner to stay organized* &lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;of course, this didn't pan out!! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. i will be ecstatic if i receive a B in math. &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;i got an "A" with the help of a tutor and an exorbitant amount of money!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. begin applying for scholarships for the fall semester.&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; see number two on my list (the P in my name stands for Procrastinator!! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;other resolutions i have are as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. finish reading "Founding Brothers" by Joseph Ellis this month. (i've been reading it since this summer!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt; another resolution i didn't keep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;2. after i finish the aforementioned, i would like to read a book on Thomas Jefferson. that way ican work on my other lofty goal of reading a book on every president; TJ is next on my list. let's see that would leave me only forty more presidents to go, easy as pie, remember?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;o.k., i did read some, but not all of this book. i'll just tack it on to this year's resolutions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;3. i have read two out of the ten plays in the book, "Ten Greek Plays in ContemporaryTranslations." i have read "Agamemnon" and "Oedipus Rex." i would like to read theremaining eight plays this year.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;yet another aborted resolution. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;But, here is something that i did learn this year: Poetry speaks to the heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't realize how the poetry i read this semester would affect me so profoundly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One poem that I can't get out of my thoughts is Ulysses by Tennyson. I keep thinking of the line that says that every experience is an arch... I love that line. (i am going to have to revisit this post because there are too many things i want to write about this poem, but i have to stop here tonight.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ulysses&lt;br /&gt;by Lord Alfred Tennyson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It little profits that an idle king,&lt;br /&gt;By this still hearth, among these barren crags,&lt;br /&gt;Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole&lt;br /&gt;Unequal laws unto a savage race,&lt;br /&gt;That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot rest from travel: I will drink&lt;br /&gt;Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed&lt;br /&gt;Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those&lt;br /&gt;That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when&lt;br /&gt;Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades&lt;br /&gt;Vexed the dim sea: I am become a name;&lt;br /&gt;For always roaming with a hungry heart&lt;br /&gt;Much have I seen and known; cities of men&lt;br /&gt;And manners, climates, councils, governments,&lt;br /&gt;Myself not least, but honoured of them all;&lt;br /&gt;And drunk delight of battle with my peers;&lt;br /&gt;Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.&lt;br /&gt;I am a part of all that I have met;&lt;br /&gt;Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough&lt;br /&gt;Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades&lt;br /&gt;For ever and for ever when I move.&lt;br /&gt;How dull it is to pause, to make an end,&lt;br /&gt;To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!&lt;br /&gt;As though to breathe were life. Life piled on life&lt;br /&gt;Were all too little, and of one to me&lt;br /&gt;Little remains: but every hour is saved&lt;br /&gt;From that eternal silence, something more,&lt;br /&gt;A bringer of new things; and vile it were&lt;br /&gt;For some three suns to store and hoard myself,&lt;br /&gt;And this grey spirit yearning in desire&lt;br /&gt;To follow knowledge like a sinking star,&lt;br /&gt;Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my son, mine own Telemachus,&lt;br /&gt;To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,--&lt;br /&gt;Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfill&lt;br /&gt;This labor, by slow prudence to make mild&lt;br /&gt;A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees&lt;br /&gt;Subdue them to the useful and the good.&lt;br /&gt;Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere&lt;br /&gt;Of common duties, decent not to fail&lt;br /&gt;In offices of tenderness, and pay&lt;br /&gt;Meet adoration to my household gods,&lt;br /&gt;When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail;&lt;br /&gt;There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,&lt;br /&gt;Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me,--&lt;br /&gt;That ever with a frolic welcome took&lt;br /&gt;The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed&lt;br /&gt;Free hearts, free foreheads,-- you and I are old;&lt;br /&gt;Old age hath yet his honor and his toil.&lt;br /&gt;Death closes all; but something ere the end,&lt;br /&gt;Some work of noble note, may yet be done,&lt;br /&gt;Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.&lt;br /&gt;The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;&lt;br /&gt;The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep&lt;br /&gt;Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends.&lt;br /&gt;'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.&lt;br /&gt;Push off, and sitting well in order smite&lt;br /&gt;The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds&lt;br /&gt;To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths&lt;br /&gt;Of all the western stars, until I die.&lt;br /&gt;It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;&lt;br /&gt;It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,&lt;br /&gt;And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.&lt;br /&gt;Though much is taken, much abides; and though&lt;br /&gt;We are not now that strength which in old days&lt;br /&gt;Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,--&lt;br /&gt;One equal temper of heroic hearts,&lt;br /&gt;Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will&lt;br /&gt;To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-1687140642304436589?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/1687140642304436589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/1687140642304436589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-2008-resolutions-revisited.html' title='My 2008 Resolutions Revisited'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5475725721027475055.post-4965800398627704099</id><published>2008-12-10T19:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T19:41:09.494-06:00</updated><title type='text'>she hasn't sung yet!!</title><content type='html'>the old saying goes, "it ain't over till the fat lady sings..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well my semester "ain't" over yet, even though i have already quit!  can you believe it?  i have given up on myself.  despite my husband's continually encouragement, i can't seem to focus on the two finals i have tomorrow--to me they are a lost cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;philosophy is kicking my butt!  truth tables?  prisoner's dilemma?  i'll tell you about MY dilemma! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as far as history (yes, the class that i love!), i did not move on to the Victorian period with the rest of the class because i was still researching napoleon for my fourth book critique! and... by the way i turned in my fourth book critique late!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;never had i fallen on my face like that.  the weeks leading up to this mess have been a series of unfortunate events.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5475725721027475055-4965800398627704099?l=mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4965800398627704099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5475725721027475055/posts/default/4965800398627704099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mamasdeelmar.blogspot.com/2008/12/she-hasnt-sung-yet.html' title='she hasn&apos;t sung yet!!'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06923102295794877086</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05251614972519040713'/></author></entry></feed>