With the Cubs making it pretty far into the postseason, my family has (well had) been watched the games almost nightly. I enjoy watching baseball games, but in my family it's an....experience. Though the games begin at seven or eight at night, the 'experience' begins at about noon. That's the time when Maddie and Dan begin their campaign to be allowed to watch some of the game that evening. The campaign sounds something like this:
Maddie: "Mom? Mom? MOM?! Can we watch some of the game tonight? Can we watch it? C'we watch it? Please? Please, Mom?" (This repeats) Dan: (throwing a ball up and catching it in his mitt (the one that has grown to his hand) just as he's been doing constantly for the last three months) "Arrieta's pitching tonight. He's really good." (I'm just going pause for a moment to point out that Dan, my five-year-old brother, is without a doubt more knowledgeable about these things than I am.) "The Dodger's pitcher is really good too though. I hope Bryant gets a home run." Dan's method of campaign is simply to assume that he will see the game and get excited enough about it that no one can deny it from him. The campaign lasts all day, or at least until they are granted permission to watch some of the game. At seven when we finally sit down after dinner to watch, the computer charge (we watch the game on the computer hooked up to the TV) is inevitably at about three percent. Since we can't watch much of a game with the computer at three percent, we launch into the ordeal known as 'plugging in the computer'. Now sometimes this is the simple process of dragging the power cord over to the outlet nearest and plugging it in. However, more often it is an operation that is way more complicated than it should be, consisting mostly of people tripping over the cord (it's stretched across the main pathway) and unplugging it. This leads to general uproar consisting mostly of Dad yelling at the bewildered offender. After the computer has been properly plugged in, we settle in to actually pay attention to the game. The game-watching itself is rather tame. Every action, be it a ball or home run, that is in the Cub's favor is cheered wildly. Some cheers are significantly more wild than others, though the house has not fallen down from the noise yet I am pleased to say. Every action that is against the Cub's is greeted with groans, depressed sighs, annoyed grunts, and (in my ten-year-old brother Ben's case) yelling at whoever was at fault. Whether the Cub's win or lose decides the mood for the rest of the evening. On a good night, we are all smiles, happy and loudly discussing the greatest plays. On a bad night, you will most likely see some of us draped sadly over the chairs and the sofa and perhaps a teen or two laying in the carpet like a piece of washing, bemoaning the loss of our beloved Cubbies. Watching these exciting Cubs games are no doubt an experience that I will never forget.
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I love theater. That is a fact about me that has been true ever since I went to my first play. I love acting (some of the most fun weeks of my life have been at theater camp), I love going to plays (more about that in a minute), listening to Broadway musicals ( http://koch-e-crumbles.weebly.com/koryns-perspective/broadway-musicals ), and simply talking all day with my friends about plays that they are in, and plays that we love, the plays that we want to see, etc. If I have a lot of activities that have to do with theater in my near future, I am a very happy and excited person. Which explains why I am right now a very happy and excited person. Perhaps the part I'm most excited about is, out of my three very favorite musicals (Les Miserables, Newsies, and Hamilton), I am going to see two of them for my birthday *insert excited scream*. Coming up soonest is the musical that was my first love, Les Miserables. When I heard that the Les Miserables tour was coming to Chicago, well, let's just say that I wanted to go very badly. My wonderful parents (to whom there are no equals) got tickets for mom to bring me and Kyra to see Les Mis on Chicago broadway. But that is only the first play. The second of my three favorites is Newsies. Only a couple months ago, I was despairing of ever seeing Newsies. After all, it closed on Broadway a little while ago. But one day, as I was rather bored, I searched on the web for 'Newsies' just to see what would come up. A minute or so later a loud gasp was heard (or maybe it was a loud scream, I don't remember) as I stared at the page that was announcing that a theatre near me was putting on a production of Newsies. After that, I pestered my parents enough that my generous grandparents heard about it, and I suddenly found myself with tickets to go to one of my favorite musicals ever. But apparently, being blessed with seeing two out of my three favorites is not enough, I am also going to see several other shows in the next couple of months. A few months ago for my literature, I was studying the play The Importance of Being Earnest. I don't think there were very many assignments that I liked more and as a result, my grandparents offered to take me, Kyra, and Kaleb to a performance of The Importance of Being Earnest. Besides that, several friends are in shows that I am hopefully going to attend. One is in the show My Son Pinocchio, and another got the role of Aladdin in Aladdin the Musical. All in all, I am very excited for the next couple of months. You will no doubt hear all about my experiences seeing my first Broadway show and my rapture at being able to enjoy some of my favorite musicals in full for the first time.
The other day we celebrated my great-grandmother's 100 birthday. At the party, there were a bunch of pictures of my grandmother throughout her life. As I looked at those pictures I realized how much the world has changed throughout her life. Even though 100 years is a long time, it seems actually an extremely small amount of time for how much has happened. She was born just before the end of WWI which means that she grew up with little of the technology we have today. Just thinking about how much technology has changed even since when my parents were little. For example, my mom once asked me if I knew what a telephone booth was. The only reason I knew was because of pictures I've seen in books. Strange to think that they were regular sights when my parents were little. It makes me wonder what amazing technology will be around in a few decades when I'm an adult. Already I can trace from flip phones to the amazingly smart smartphones we have today, all in less then two decades. I'm almost sure that by the time I'm thirty, most people will have driverless cars. And from what I see today, non-electronic billboards will go the same way of the telephone booth. I wonder if I will one day be asking my kids if they know what a non-electronic billboard looks like, the same way Mom asked me about phone booths. But even though I sometimes almost envy my kids for the things they will see and enjoy that I will probably not, I also realize that they will have problems that I certainly won't envy. We have enough problems with teens on social media these days, I only wonder how much worse they'll get when more 'wonderful' phones and gadgets come out. Though technology does make life easier in some ways, it makes them a lot harder in others. One of my personal pet peeves, one that annoys me so much, is when I see people with their friends, texting or playing games on their phones. It's even more annoying when they're my friends and, not having a phone, I am left sitting lonely and bored with nothing to do. I have to wonder what's going to happen to normal human interaction as more technology comes out. Unlike a dystopian/futuristic novel, I don't think it will disappear completely. There will always (probably) be some jobs that require human interaction, but what will all this new technology do to us?
With this aspect I look to the future of technology with both eagerness and a little dread. KORYN LIFE
WEN I WUS A BABY WELL I DO NOT KNOW WHAT HAPPENED WHEN I WAS A BABY. LATS SCIP THE TIM WEN I WAS U BABY. LUTS SCIP TOO WEN I WUS U TOTLER. Translation: When I was a baby, well, I do not know what happened when I was a baby. Let's skip the time when I was a baby. Let's skip to when I was a toddler. That brilliant autobiography was written by me at approximately seven years old. Though a bit vague about my early life, including some rather creative spelling (interesting to notice that I couldn't decide that day whether I wanted to spell let's as luts or lats), and slightly short in length, I am still sure that it is probably one of the greatest works of mankind. In all honesty though, I think that what probably actually happened was not a seven-year-old sitting down at the table to write about her wonderful inspiring life (though that may have been the case, I don't really remember) but a seven-year-old being shoved into a chair by her mother and being told that she was not allowed to get up until she had written three sentences. But regardless of how or why it was written I am still very glad that Mom saved that sheet of stained, wrinkled, notebook paper for me to enjoy eight years later. It's so fun to enjoy interesting little snippets from the past life of the child that was me. If we don't save these things they will be gone forever, lost in the sands of time. What may be regular in life today you may not remember even two years later. There's that look that I've seen on people's faces and felt on mine, that amazed remembrance of something that was commonplace and unremarkable only a few years before. The "I remember that!" moment as you recall some everyday happening that you had somehow forgotten about and now remember with laughter and perhaps a little awe at how different life was then. For instance, about two years ago, when Daniel was three, he was the most rebellious little tyke you could imagine when it came to staying in bed at night. Going to bed in the first place was not the biggest problem. Sure, he didn't want to go, but it never took all that much to get him there. It was getting him to stay there that was the real struggle. As a nightly occurrence, the older kids, Mom, and Dad, would sit downstairs chatting only to suddenly stop and hear the telltale breathing of the little scoundrel who thought he was invisible at the top of the stairs. He would often get up three or four times an evening to sit at the top of the stairs in a quiet but extremely rebellious act of defiance. This annoying (though now rather amusing) occurrence might have been forgotten had not Mom taken a picture of Dan, asleep defiantly in the hallway with books surrounding him. I enjoy that picture almost as much as I enjoy my little autobiography. Memories are so special and I believe that we should take pains to save something to remind us of even the everyday occurrences, so that we may have the joy of remembering them in the future. Emotions are weird, no doubt about it. Nobody really knows the scientific explanation of them; they are a pretty big mystery. There are the normal emotions that everyone knows about: sadness, anger, love, boredom, etc. We feel them regularly and they are, if not always pleasant, at least familiar.
But what about those feelings that aren't so familiar? There are emotions that are not felt often. There are some that have not been named yet, that we can't describe, and that we wonder if it is only ourselves who have felt it. Déjà Vu, a French phrase literally meaning “already seen” is one of these. Most people have felt Déjà Vu at one point or another. That feeling that you have not only been in some specific place before, but you have already lived that whole moment, even when you know that you have not. I have always been interested in this strange feeling that startles you and takes your breath away, but as I was recently researching it, I found a few that interest me even more. It's an almost relieving experience when you realize that some emotion that you have had before is not just yours, but is something others have felt , as well. For instance, Jamaias Vu, which is French for “never seen.” Jamaias Vu is basically the opposite of Déjà Vu: it’s when you feel as if you have never seen/heard something that you know you have seen/heard before. This can be induced if you write or say a word over and over about fifteen to thirty times. You begin to feel that it is not a word and has absolutely no business pretending it is. What causes these emotions? Why is it that you can be in a place that you've never seen in your life before with people you met that day and still feel as if you have already lived that moment? If you say a word, one that you've known all your life and have said many times, why do you suddenly doubt that it is a real word? Why do you feel as if you've never even heard it before? Another emotion that I personally have felt before (if only for a minute or two) and the one that I find the most strange (and a little creepy to experience) is depersonalization. Depersonalization is a sense of disorientation, of feeling like you are not yourself (not that you are not feeling well, but that you are not you). It's difficult to explain, but you feel as if you do not quite know or recognize yourself. You feel like you are viewing the world from a distance. It's a very interesting emotion and one that I've found that I can induce by thinking and wondering about certain things. With all of this said, a question, one that nobody really knows the answer to yet, comes to mind: what causes these emotions and why do they come? And these are the questions that I will await answers for eagerly. When I find myself at a loss for what to blog about, I often take out a bunch of small cards, each asking a question, in search for inspiration. I came across one today that caught my attention. It was a rather simple question that asked: What is one thing that always cheers you up when you are sad? As I thought about it I wondered, "what does cheer me up?"And then I realized that it was a little bit of a difficult question for me because I am not sad very often. Maybe I'm just a naturally happy person. Or maybe there is something about living with a bunch of other people (many of them who, being rather young, have few cares) that gives a sunnier aspect to life. Whatever it is I realized that I am not sad very often. One of the benefits of not being sad often is that you can pinpoint what makes you sad. Here is what it is for me: a lack of work. I am often rather blue on the third or fourth day of a four day weekend. People are often very excited at the prospect of four whole days without work, and I am too, but by the third day or so I start feeling a little blue. I don't know exactly how to describe the feeling, but it isn't pleasant. Along with this sad feeling comes a craving. I have heard of people who have a vitamin deficiency suddenly craving many foods that they had never craved before, foods that incidentally (or not so incidentally) all contain large amounts of the deficient vitamin. When I have simply lazed around for several days I begin to crave meaningful work. Just like the body needs vitamins, I believe that the soul does too. And work is one of the more important ones. On a pin board next to my bed I have the following quote which I have memorized by heart:
Thank God every morning when you get up, that you have something to do that day that must be done whether you like it or not. Being forced to work, and forced to do your best, will breed in you a hundred virtues which the idle never knew. ~Charles Kingsley Work breeds character and virtue, work brings satisfaction and makes your life more meaningful. Doesn't it sound like a wonderful thing that God has given us? At this point I can see you shaking your head doubtfully; work is boring and dull. I would agree mostly with that statement, but I would replace 'is' with 'can be'. And it is true, almost any type of work can be boring a dull if you decide it is. But if you change your mentality work can also be fun. Ever heard the saying "whistle while you work?" Sometimes I actually look forward to cleaning the house because I love making our house nice and hospitable to live in (and I also like listening to my musicals and that's really the only time I get to so that does have something to do with it I guess :p). But whether it is fun or not, it still "breed[s] in you a hundred virtues". So what are you waiting for? Go out there and get some work done! I have been told from my cradle that 'the book was better' (than the movie), I have known since I could read that 'the book was better', but recently I have been relearning that truth in a new way with The Lord of the Rings.
Only a couple days ago I picked up The Lord of the Rings again after a rather long pause and I was reminded of how wonderful it is! I love visiting (and revisiting) the land of Elves, Dwarves, Men, Wizards, and Hobbits. The LotR movies are certainly some of the best and I love them a lot, but the books are still better and always will be no matter what. There is something about books that a movie can never replace. It isn’t that Hollywood overlooked something or did badly in the movies. They did a terrific job with them, but it is about the concept of a movie itself. In the LotR movie's you can see Frodo weighed down by the ring. You can see the exhaustion and mental agony it is causing. You sympathize with him and want to help him. But in the book, you feel as if you are weighed down by the ring. You feel the exhaustion and mental agony it causes. You feel the ring pulling you against your will toward it's master. It is a much richer and deeper experience. You see, the book gives description: each word is carefully chosen to give you an image in your head and take you inside the minds of the characters. The book helps you understand things that cannot be translated onto a movie screen. The book also has an advantage because it can be as long as the author wants while movies should not really take sixteen hours to watch. There are so many things that have been left out of the movies! Characters and scenes that I missed a lot. The books showed the wonderful companionship between the four hobbits, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry. The movies did not have the time to show much of that and basically only left the friendship between Frodo and Sam while poor Merry and Pippin were left out of so much. I am not criticizing the makers of the movie, I am just pointing out the unavoidable flaws, simply because it was a movie not a book. The book is ALWAYS better (with the one exception of the movie coming out first and the book being simply fan-fiction). I recommend, no, I beg, that if a movie is based off a book, read the book first! I have watched my little siblings so many times as they play. I watch as Mickey drives his cars on the couch for hours, staring at them as if they were the most wonderful things in the world. He moves them from one couch to another, onto the floor, and then back onto a couch. I watch as Sarah plays with blocks and dominos, stacking them, and moving them carefully from the floor to a speaker one at a time and then back again. As I watch them I wonder, what is going on in their little minds? What are they thinking as they play those seemingly boring games tirelessly? I recently got a peek into how a child's brain works when I was assigned to play with Mickey a couple of times. The first time we played outside, riding on little cars. We first went to the grocery store, then the library, then the ice cream store, then the car store, then the door store, and then about ten other stores, only stopping to sleep on the lawn for five seconds or put away our many groceries. It was interesting how Mickey never seemed to tire of going to all these different (and rather unusual) stores many times, to buy about seven assorted cars, to get library books and to buy a new door. I played with him again the next evening and I was quite surprised with how sophisticated his games were for his age. He borrows a lot from real life, but makes up a lot as well. He had three cars, one was Mom's car, one was Grandpa's motorcycle and one was Grandpa's car (which was sometimes Dad's car instead but always turned back into Grandpa's car so that Dad always had to be driven by Mom etc.). It was one of the most amusing things I have ever watched and I was very helpful, being the mountain that the cars drove under on their way to services (it was very dark in the mountain by the way). I think that once a child can talk, it is easier to find out what is happening in their fascinating little brains than most people think. Perhaps the reason people do not try however, is because it takes effort. You have to take time out of your busy day and spend it with your little sibling/child/grandchild but the result is often very rewarding.
We humans are a funny race. We like regularity. We like to know what is going to happen. But we also like changes. We hate the thought of a boring life. God designed us to like regularity but also to like change. I think that is why he made the seasons. Seasons change, but they are the same ones every year. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter. I love each of the different seasons in their own way. Granted I like some better than others, but I am very glad that it is not always spring because that would be so tiring. Each season gives me a feeling when I think about it. The though of spring brings to mind the wonderful feeling that I get when I smell the fresh air after a long time and see buds poking up their heads, testing the weather. That wonderful time when the trees are shrugging off the white fur coats that they had worn for so long and putting on lovely dresses of light green leaves. The thought of summer brings to mind the smell of barbecues, the sound of people laughing, talking, and hanging out. Of staying up late to catch fire flies and playing tag in the dark. Of playing in the hose and jumping on the trampoline and simply trying to cool off in the shade. The thought of autumn brings to mind the smell of burning leaves and the beauty of the trees that takes my breath away as they dance in their wonderful scarlet gowns. Of geese, honking loudly, as they make their way south and of jumping with a crunch into a huge pile of leaves. The thought of winter brings to mind hot chocolate and cozying under the covers listening to the snow plow go down the street. Of read aloud's by the fire and of lighting the menorah and decorating the tree. These are the feelings and pictures in my head for each of these seasons, but they all have memories attached to them as well. I remember mom having us start a garden one spring, watching and helping as we dug up the grass and built little garden plots. One summer I remember taking a running slide down our new slip 'n slide and going a little farther than I meant to, crashing into the small pool at the end and the siblings that were in it. I also remember staying up very late, jumping on the trampoline with Kaleb, Kyra, and Ben and making ourselves scared on purpose. I remember one autumn, making a huge pile of leaves in our grandparents yard and running away as my grandfather hid himself in it and jumped out again. I remember one winter, going to downtown Chicago and looking in the Macy's windows as we all shivered and took pictures. And later, we went to the Walnut Room and ate dinner by the tree. The seasons change, but they are always the same every year. Each one has it's own special thoughts, feelings, and memories attached to it, and each year makes more. I thank God for the seasons.
I really like days like today. It's raining outside. Most of the lights are on casting a cozy glow around the house. I can hear my family working and playing all around me. Claire is doing "school" with Maddie and Dan, reading them The Emperor's New Clothes. I can hear Ben humming and Mom is working in the kitchen. It's times like these that I just want to freeze time and live forever, working and playing as one happy family. But I know I have to grow up and take responsibilities. Mom and I recently were talking as we rollerbladed around the block together. She told me to enjoy these times because I will never again be so carefree and have so few responsibilities. It recently dawned on me that I will be sixteen this year. That seems so wrong! I am not the kind of person to turn sixteen! Other people can, but not me! I do not feel near sixteen. Maybe eleven or twelve, but SIXTEEN? I remember as a little kid sixteen seemed so old. Now it feels so young. I used to imagine what it would be like to be thirteen. Now I'm two and a half years older than that. I feel a little scared when I think of how soon I will enter the world of adults. The difficult world of adults. I want life to stay like this forever. Of course I know I can't freeze time and I think that even if I was given the option to stop time right now, I would choose to continue my life. But it is still a frightening thought to remember how close I am to adulthood. It seems so hard to be an adult. I remember when I was little, I was always so glad that I was not the one who had to deal with the problems of life. That I was not the one who was in charge if someone got seriously hurt. That I was not the one who had to take charge if there was a tornado warning. But pretty soon I will be. I remember once hearing about or read a story or poem that someone wrote about the comfort and security of the back seat of the car. The ones who got to sit in the back seat, the children, had no cares, they knew that those in the front seat would always take care of them. But the poem then wrote how the child felt sorry for the poor adults who were forever doomed to ride in the front seat of the car, with the responsibilities of life.
Of course, I feel that it will not be so hard for me to take over the responsibility of an adult as it would be for some people. Being the oldest of nine kids helps a lot. I am used to taking care of people when they get hurt, and comforting them when a storm comes. But I am never the one who is ultimately in charge if something really bad happens. There is always an adult I can go to if things get really out of hand. But adults don't have the luxury. They have to take care of everything themselves. It is a little hard to enjoy these carefree times when I remember what is looming closer and closer on the horizon. But of course I remember that though responsibilities are a big part of being an adult, they are not the only part. Adults get lots of privileges as well. So I suppose that if you ask me how I feel about my approaching sixteenth birthday, I would have to tell you that my feelings are mixed. But no matter what happens I know that God has a plan for my life and He is watching over me. And that gives me a feeling of security for the future. |
AuthorAs the oldest of nine kids, Koryn's life is never boring. Her favorite activities besides writing include reading, acting, debate, and playing piano. Archives
October 2017
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