Yo Momma 2

The snow had fallen consistently during the night, and it still continued to fall in the morning. Ozzy prayed for the radio to grace him with a snow day and he sat threw breakfast. Listening intently. When the radio announcer started to read of the list of names Oz got up and scurried over to the radio. He sat on the marble slab that covered the radiator. When his butt got to hot, he got up. He was sure to analyze each school name. Making sure it wasn’t his.
When the broadcast ended and his school name still had not been called Oz slunk back to his seat next to his brother facing the stove where mom was still cooking eggs, or something. Oz looked out the window at the mounds of beautiful white. A perfect rampart of snow that was yet to be knocked off of the porch railing outside. “Mom,” said Oz “do we really have to go to school today?” “Why can’t we just get a snow day for once?
“Well,” Mom was obviously thinking about it. Then she took a glance out the window.
“Pleeeease.” Oz and James pleaded with her.
“Get ready for school and I’ll think about it.” With that Oz and James began eating their breakfast in silence. Quick as they could.

Mom went to go dig the car out and Ozzy and James trudged through the knee length snow around to the front sidewalk. Once there they could already hear the squeals of children. Boots, snow-pants and all Oz and James hurried down the street each making a snowball as they walked. Crossing the street they saw the group of kids already starting to make a snow fort. Laughing Oz and James advanced on their friend’s snow balls cocked and ready to launch.

Yo Momma

The snow had fallen consistently during the night, and it still continued to fall in the morning. Ozzy prayed for the radio to grace him with a snow day and he sat threw breakfast. Listening intently. When the radio announcer started to read of the list of names Oz got up and scurried over to the radio. He sat on the marble slab that covered the radiator. When his butt got to hot, he got up. He was sure to analyze each school name. Making sure it wasn’t his.
When the broadcast ended and his school name still had not been called Oz slunk back to his seat next to his brother facing the stove where mom was still cooking eggs, or something. Oz looked out the window at the mounds of beautiful white. A perfect rampart of snow that was yet to be knocked off of the porch railing outside. “Mom,” said Oz “do we really have to go to school today?” “Why can’t we just get a snow day for once?
“Well,” Mom was obviously thinking about it. Then she took a glance out the window.
“Pleeeease.” Oz and James pleaded with her.
“Get ready for school and I’ll think about it.” With that Oz and James began eating their breakfast in silence. Quick as they could.

The Trick Of Writing

When we do things in life, especially things we enjoy, certain habits start to develop. For instance I have trouble writing with noise, people and music. These things make my mind wander, I cannot concentrate or formulate any sort of substance. For instance, right now I'm listening to Empire State of Mind by Jay-Z and this sentence is taking ten times more time then it should.

When I write I find it easiest to be in other places or going from one to the other. On vacation and on planes happen to be ideal places to take out my computer and just, type. When my surroundings are different I get inspired and driven to write things down. The trick is to focus without focusing. Cliche, I know, but if you can center your mind and then let whatever you want to write flow out it makes writing much, much easier.

Thanks to a Classmate

If i were to thank someone in 5th period american lit. It would probably be Noah. His remarks are usually funny and spice up the atmosphere. In class you can always count on Noah to further the conversation whether were talking about squirrels around thanksgiving time or Abby in the crucible he somehow says something interesting. Might not always be so interesting or funny to Mr. McCarthy but, I'm thankful all the same.

John Proctor, Hero or Stooge?

In my eyes John Proctor is a hero. At the end of the book he gives his life for the good of the community. He may not have known it at the time but by not confessing or "blackening" his name in the village John showed the town the idiocy of the whole set of trails. When people of the town saw John Proctor hanged that struck a chord in many people who had known him as a good man. When something bad happens to a person you know to be nice, kind and good that automatically provokes sympathy and "why them" seems to be said at one time or another. I think that the extreme of this is during John Proctor's hanging. As he said in the story he "hung the door on the church" and put the roof on it. In a Puritan life those are very prestigious deeds to do. The argument of stooge is a valid argument but, I think that by the end of the story Proctor showed himself to be a hero.

Where Should Our Class Go?

I think that after our class reads sections of whatever book we are on we should discuss and talk about it during class. I purpose full class discussions or just small group meetings to talk about what went on or what the main idea of the chapter was ect. I think that it would provide a small amount of clarification on main ideas or even events in the readings. This is the route I think that class should take and I think it would benefit everyone.

Sinner's in the Hands of an Angry God

This is a passage from a sermon given by Jonathan Edwards. In the sermon Edwards talks about how all humanity is at the mercy of god and that he is angry. It may sound crazy but at the time, when the Puritan faith was very popular this was something a lot of people believed and obviously made them fear God. In another section of the sermon Edwards talks about the fiery depth of hell and how the devil is in every person. I think this ridiculous but I'm pretty sure I would have been alone and shunned in the 1730's.

Arrivals? There goes the neighborhood...

The most recent time that I can think of being in an alien situation was this summer. In july this year I went on a backpacking trip for ten days in New Hampshire. The only problem was, i have to get there by myself. So I was taking a flight to Boston to get picked up and brought to a summer camp. Great. This was the first time that I'd ever flown by myself and I admit I was pretty nervous.

The day finally comes when I am to leave for my flight. Tossing my bags into the car I convince myself this is the same as always. Just be cool. The car ride is pretty standard, my mom is quizzing me on items I may or may not have for my trip and telling me the importances of each one. She likes to talk about her trips and what she knows about the New England area. I can tell she's nervous too but I would never tell her that. Instead I say "Mom. I'm going to be okay, i promise you." My guess was right and she relaxed a little for the rest of the car ride. Once we pulled into the airport i knew there was no getting rid of her. I kept telling her i was fine. (A reassurance for myself more then anyone) Once we had checked my bags with skycap i hugged her. She composed herself fairly well. I was proud of her and I tromped threw the terminal to my gate with a peace of mind. The plane ride wasn't too long so it flew by quickly and I had landed in Boston before 10. As I got off the plane I surveyed my surroundings with a curious eye since I'd never been this far east before. I was getting picked up by three guys who I had no idea who they were. They said they worked for the camp and that they would be wear a green Camp Joslin shirt. As you can expect, walking threw uncharted waters so to speak was nerve racking. I looked over at some of the people who had been on my flight wondering where they were headed and if they were new to Boston too. I kept walking threw the now fairly empty terminal following the stream of people from my flight. Finally we all came around a bend and i saw a couple of younger guys all of which i was taller than leaning against a wall obviously waiting for somebody. I walked right towards them seeing the green shirt I walked right up and stuck out my hand in greeting. Before shacking my hand one of the guys asked "Jake O'Hagan?" I was able to come up with "Uh, Yeah." which seemed alright to me. We then shook hands and I realized that I had known what they looked like but they didn't know what to expect from me. I shook my head realizing my awkward greeting and the four of us walked in complete silence towards the sign marked Baggage Claim.

Arrivals

Introduction

My name is Jake O'Hagan. I guess I'll tell you a little about myself before I do anything else. I come from northside of Chicago. I'm a stones throw from the epic and history ridden Wrigley Field. I've lived in the same 2 flat all my life and couldn't ever imagine moving anywhere. Among other things I play soccer. I'm a member of the Whitney Young JV soccer team as well as a couple different club teams around the city. Along with soccer I enjoy movies, painting, drawing , reading and writing. Another recently acquired passion of mine is traveling. I went to Europe the summer before freshman year and loved it all. I was there for a month and manged to go on a cruise, do as many juggles I've ever done in an Italian marketplace and visit more then 7 countries. I'm pressed for time so I'll end on this fact about me. I play a couple musical instruments and I play drums in a band but piano has been a favorite since I was young. I adore music and am presently liking the works of Lou Reed. I'm sure this will change with time. - Jake