The Hiccups

So suddenly it's October. Where did the month go?

Hello again! Hope you all had a fantastic September!

I am afraid, dear reader, that I have the hiccups. Again. For the last six months or so I get them almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day, I get stuck inhaling whatever food/drink/gum that was in my mouth. Yum, right?

But while it has this obvious irritant, it does have at least one upside.

      Laughter.

It doesn't matter who it is, it seems that nothing lightens a atmosphere better than a badly timed hiccup that is a cross between a donkey and a strangled cat. Last night during Family Home evening, we started our reading ten minutes late because even mom and dad were gripping their sides. Meanwhile I tried to smother myself.

But what are hiccups, I began to wonder. And where did they come from?  These questions nagged at me until I could stand it no longer. I had to know.

      THE HICCUPS: A study in synopsis 

A hiccup is a contraction of the diaphragm that repeats several times per minute. In humans, the abrupt rush of air into the lungs causes the epiglottis to close, creating a "hic" sound.

• The medical term, singultus, is thought to have originated from the Latin, singult, which translates roughly as "the act of catching one's breath while sobbing.

• A bout of hiccups, in general, resolves itself without intervention

• Some doctors recommend that you put your fingers in your ears to stop hiccups.

• Sticking out your tongue and yanking on it may stop hiccups.

• If you eat fast, you are probably not chewing food thoroughly, which seems to cause hiccups.

•  American man Charles Osborne had the hiccups for 68 years, from 1922 to 1990, and was entered in the Guinness World Records  as the man with the longest attack of hiccups.

   I found all of this fascinating, though I guess a lot of people(possibly you) do not. But hey, people surprise me every day. :)

   

   Later!

   Your writer,

   Cody <3 <3
  


  

A whole new month!

Hello everyone! Guess what? It's september. Yes, I just stayed up until midnight and realized in the first 26 seconds of the new month that I had just lived in two different months in one minute. Cool huh? I think so.
Time has always been a confusing thing. Time gives life, and it takes it away. Things grow tall, and things wither with age. You can say what you want, but the fact is, the time you spend reading this post is time that you could have spent doing something wonderful. Sure, you say-it was only a few minutes. But in the grand scheme of things, you have spent hundreds of hours of your life staring at a computer screen. No matter what age you live in, it sounds like a silly way to waste your precious time.
Summer is gone, and the school year is here. Fall is on it's way(I was actually tempted to wear a sweatshirt today.) and yet we still waste time. Come on people, when are we going to learn?
So, dear reader, I am going to give you homework. (Now don't complain. It's for your own good.) After you read this you have to think about how you have spent your past week. After doing this, go and smile at a stranger for no apparent reason, and try to make someone else smile too! Or you could go even further and go do something nice for someone in your family. Either one will do. :)


Later!
~Cody <3 <3

Artistically Challenged?

Artistically CHALLENGED?

I *LOVE* art. Art is the fundamental reason I was able to survive home school and later on, my first three years of college. Through all of the science, math, english, comp, literature, language, lunch, psychology, etc etc- through all of those monotonous classes there was always time for art.

I love walking into craft and hobby stores because it's here where all of the ideas for creating masterpieces start. Walking down the aisles and "oooh"ing and "Aha!"ing over all of the different colors, the different mediums, the different ideas, all rushing "Oh I could use this to make a skirt and a hat.... AND SHOES!!!" or "I need this for my painting!" or "I need a bigger canvas." or "I need a bigger *car*!"... well the list could go on forever... The one thing that doesn't require you to think can usually cause you to retreat into a pensive slum that comes from finally putting your paints down, sticking a bunch of newspaper on the expensive wooden table, carefully sizing up your blank canvas and (after debating which color to use first!) making the first stripe. Or dot, depending upon how long you hesitated with your brush hanging off your hand like a idiot, immobilized by the unanswered question: What am I gonna paint? 

For all of your inspirational needs, 

~Victoria!

Writing

Heeelllloooo!

I have absolutely no idea how many people actually read this. The people who do are probably related to me, bored, or my awesome besties Enalahc and Deraj. Or my sister. :P

This entry is dedicated to Enalahc, my fellow writer and sugar-freak. :)

       I think that pretty much everyone I have ever met knows that I love to write. I mean, it's the first thing I tell them after my name. If anyone ever asked me what I do with my spare time, I would answer without hesitation-I write.

      

       Now, writing is something that we all learn in kindergarten. They hand you a pencil, and tell you what words to write. Not that you could ever really read the handwriting(come on, you're only five).

       Then in second grade they take away the traceable letters and give you that wonderfully empty sheet of blue and red lined paper. You are free to write whatever you like, anything at all. And all you can think to write is your name or perhaps the name of the book your teacher is reading to the class during free time. But somewhere in your growing mind you know that one day you will write something big.

        By the time you're in middle school you have all sorts of things to write. The new science teacher is really funny. Your best friend and you are together for most of the day. The food at lunch tasted awful, but that was okay because your mom packed you a ham sandwich. You test your hand at writing something that is at the tips of your fingers, but it doesn't sound on paper how it sounded in your head.

        But you don't give up.

        In high school you know exactly what you want to write. The teachers tell you what to write about, and you put all of those built-up words down on paper. As your #2 pencil makes it's last mark, you know that you want to write every day of your life. You staple the written pages together and hand a tiny piece of yourself to your teacher to be judged. But you know that no matter what the teacher says, you wrote exactly what you wanted to. After spending ten years of your life learning how to draw letters, write in cursive, and spell long words, you have put all of that knowledge together on a few sheets of 10 ½” by 8” college-ruled paper.

       To me, being a writer means so much more than just writing stories. It's a pattern of thought and action. It's the freedom to create entire worlds with my mind, and learn more about myself. It's seeing the potential in every moment of every day-the potential for something incredible.

Thank you Enalahc and Deraj, and also my entire family, for being there to listen to me rant all day about my writing. It means a lot. :)

Later!

Cody

Let's take a moment to ponder life.

Good day dear reader! I hope you have had a wonderful day so far!
I would like to write to you about life.

Think about your life for a moment.

............................

      What was the first thing about your life that stood out to you? Perhaps your job? Or your friends? Or your family?
     
      Anyway, why did that particular aspect of your life come to mind? Because it is on your mind, of course, and important to you.
      Often we take the things most important to us for granted. It a natural reaction. It's here, and here it will always stay.
Wrong.
Friends and family members can be taken from us in an instant. People move away. They disappear. They die. It's part of life, and at one point you will experience that kind of separation.
It's a morbid thought, I know.

       But this is why we have to appreciate people while they are with us. Don't let even a moment escape you. Make sure that the people you love know how much you love them. Sometimes when my brothers are being loud and obnoxious, and I just want to tear my hair out, I remember that they will only be children for a few years more before they have to deal with the teenage years. And parents can be frustrating and hard to understand, but they have knowledge beyond my years and I know that I still have LOTS to learn.
I love my family, and I know that they love me. They are THE most important thing in my my life.

Later!
Cody

My next post will be funny again, I promise! :P

When you're sick.....

Hello all! Yup, this is Cody again.

Last week my brother was sick with Strep throat. He had a fever, trouble eating because it hurt to swallow, and slept a lot because he felt TERRIBLE!
      Now me and Vicki are sick with it. Somehow we found a way, probably through that psychotic mental link of ours, to share the symptoms between us. So she has the fatigue and headache, and I have a sore throat. Somehow whenever sickness goes through our house, I always handle it best.
      Still though, I feel like I have gargled sand, and my voice is scratchy. Other than those minor annoyances, I am as healthy as ever! (I am prepared to eat my own words, just in case it gets worse in the next few days.)
      Yesterday was a lazy day for me. I wore my pajamas all day simply because I wasn't going anywhere anyway. Also, there is our county fair going on less than a block away, so there are people's cars surrounding our house, because we have the best parking spots in town right out our front door. In my utter boredom, I decided to play up my 'sickness', which meant using my creative skills to make it look like I hadn't slept in weeks and was carrying a potentially fatal illness, as I wasn't planning on leaving the house.
My mom asked me to go outside and fetch our cat, who was getting a bit too close to the people walking by, and more importantly, the people's cars. (Our cat likes to climb into cars when the owners aren't looking, and we would prefer that we didn't send fair goers away with extra baggage.)
As I stepped out the front door, I passed two women who gave me a VERY wide berth. They looked at me as if I was a walking corpse, a mixture of horror and disdain, so maybe my attempt at imitating the flu appeared more akin to the Bubonic plague. hehehe. I am so proud. ^_^

Later! <3 <3 <3 


     

A segment on night driving

Driving at night is one thing that will always fascinate me. Everything is in shadows, so mysterious and a bit thrilling.

Let me start out with a story that will explain the rest of my tale.
A couple of weeks ago Vicki and me were sitting in the backseat of my family's blue minivan as it sped down the highway. It was a rainy day, and we were bored, so we decided to have raindrop races. We've all done that, right? It's a classic. Anyway, we choose our 'jocky' raindrops and watched as they made there way across the window. My raindrop came into the lead, and in that second, the most surprising, horrific thing happened.
It exploded, right on the window, into a thousand tiny droplets. Of course I was traumatized. Why wouldn't be? And of course Vicki laughed at me for the face I made.
Now, on with my tale.
Tonight on the way back from a youth activity and a trip to Walmart, I was sitting in the passenger seat of the said minivan. My mom was driving, and my little brother was in the back seat.
Going past some cornfields(this being minnesota, corn is just part of the landscape) my mom noticed a dense mist hovering above the stalks. She became irritated and said, "See Cody? Those are pesticides right there. They must have just sprayed."
I was actually quite amused at her presumption, seeing as it was 9:30 at night and they usually don't fly biplanes in this whether and lighting. I responded with perfect politeness, as I never have been someone to judge another's irrational train of thought (sorry mom), "No, I think it's fog."
Maybe that was jumping to conclusions. I don't know.
My mom suddenly changed her opinion to match mine. "It's called graveyard fog when it comes in that fast. You never see it coming."
"Wow," I said, "that is a depressing sentiment." Don't get it? Think about it for a minute. You'll catch on.
I ate my own words when we suddenly drove through a small fog bank, the mist so thick that you could butter toast with it. My goofy grin did nothing to mask my utter astonishment. Whoa, it was foggy outside....
Soon I grew bored though and started to stare mindlessly at the bugs that were lit by the headlights as the flew past the window. There were so many bugs in fact that I could not look at all of them, so I just stared straight ahead with that dead look in my eyes. You know, the totally mindless look that says 'breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out'.
Then suddenly a peculiar bug specimen brought me out of my reverie. It seemed to be dancing in the air, a perfect example of a bug, because lets face it; it was a bug.
Right as I was just thinking this, the car shot forward and....
SPLAT!!!
The bug made a sickening thud sound as it hit the windshield, it's body splattered over nearly a square inch of glass. (We were going sixty at the time, so it was no big surprise.)
I sat there in total shock, my mind frozen between a hysterical laugh and horror. Even after several moments, I was undecided in how to react, so didn't at all. On the inside though, I was laughing. Only because of my complete shock though. Another part of my was crying for that happy little bug who likes to dance in headlight beams, and never will again.
While thinking these greatly depressing thoughts, we passed the sign that said the name and population of our town. Such a familiar thing, as we see it every day. But something about it was different.

Windom
Pop. 4490

Soon realization hit me: the last time I had really looked at that sign, it had said 4494.
Ouch.
So yeah, today has been a day of depressing thoughts mixed with comic relief, mixed with that splatter of bug guts on the windshield that will take forever to scrape off.

Later!
-Cody