Saturday, August 19, 2006

WPE! I Can Write!

Hooray! On July 8th, 2006, after over an hour of standardized testing, on a Saturday nonetheless, I participated in and satisfactorily passed the Writing Proficiency Exam which all students at CSULB are required to take at some point or another. Personally, I didn't take it until I had reached the "or another" period in time, i.e. until they put a hold on my account and prevented me from registering for my classes.

Of course, it's one of those things that's mentioned in the long and arduous orientation marathon that I attended a year or so ago when I first started CSULB. They try and freak you out by telling you all these important things to remember and dates to keep track of and tests to take and where to shovel money into their pockets. Naturally, this was one of those dronings I must have misplaced (disregarded) in my mind.

So when I got the threatening e-mail saying that I have to take the WPE or I'll be dragged out of my house in chains and forced to watch them burn all of my academic records, my future diploma, and my underwear, I finally got motivated.

After I had waded through enough red tape to make a bull keel over in a heap of enmity and overstimulation, I finally got the hold lifted from my account so I could register again, and secured a test date.

On the morning of my test, I arrived at my school, waited to be admitted into the room, had my ID checked to make sure I was me (sure don't want imposters faking someone's proficiency at writing...it's not like their teachers won't find out next semester anyway), and sat down in a room with many other students upset at the waste of their precious Saturday.

The test wasn't any sweat. I was given a topic and had to write an essay about the dangers of misinformation and having too much info localized in one spot, i.e. the internet. The hardest part was keeping from laughing at my two crack test administrators.

They were two black people, a guy and a girl. The girl was the ultimate showcase in spoken monotonism. Her sacred duty was to read the instructions of the test. The sole duty of the guy was, well, I don't really know. All I know is he sat in the front of the room in a desk which was facing us, with his back to the wall, and once the test had begun, he put on a pair of sunglasses and fell asleep.

At one point, I looked up from my furious scribbling to see him, resting his head against the wall, with his mouth totally agape. We were just lucky he didn't have Stuffed Nasal Orifices Resonating in Ears syndrome, or SNORE.

Against all odds, however, I managed to write an essay that I was happy with and with which I felt confident that I would pass without a problem.

Sure enough, a few days ago, I got a letter in the mail verifying that exact thought. I needed an 11 to pass, and I got a 14 out of a possible 18 points.

I'm now officially proficient enough in writing to meet the requirements and expectations of CSULB. Whoopee! I can write, and it's all thanks to this mandatory state examination. Now I've sufficiently proven myself to be worthy of continuing in my studies as an ENGLISH major who already has taken six English classes in two semesters at CSULB, two of them being creative writing classes and five of them being upper division.

I'm sure glad I have the security and confidence of this standardized test under my proverbial belt, so if I ever have any doubts about whether or not I am a good writer, I can just reference my score of 14 on the WPE and be instantly self-assured again. Whew.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Simon Says Yar!

I had one of those moments.

One of those experiences in life where something happens and you either find it incredibly funny or strangely bizarre and you just have write it down to clear your thoughts and also, of course, to share it with others.

I had just finished putting in my 8 hours at the Home Despot. I had clocked out, and was walking out of the employee break room (the one place in the whole store that the bigshots will actually splurge to have air conditioning in) when I came across a fellow employee who works in plumbing.

His name is Jonathan, and I just discovered a few days ago that his last name is Ray, and that he is a cousin to the Rays at St. Barnabas. He just turned 22 years old, is going into the Navy soon, and goes to church (Calvary Chapel).

So anyway, I run into him, and he begins telling me what he got for his birthday. He shows me a silver necklace holding a kite shield with a cross on the front and a Bible verse on the back, and a brand new camera which he has apparently been carrying in a hip case all day so he can "take pictures of his friends".

Noticing that he didn't take advantage of the incredibly convenient segue presented here, I politely took the hint and withstood the urge to go "afk crying", as he went on to tell me that the third and final thing he got for his birthday was a Sailor's Bible.

Maybe it's my natural seclusion from anything Evangelical that was the root cause of my ignorance, or maybe it's the fact that the difference between a regular Bible and a Sailor's Bible is obscure enough that I wouldn't automatically know how they are different - which prompted my immediate question:

"What, does it have a bunch of swearing in it or something?"


I mean really, how much different can a Bible be translated to merit the title of "The Sailor's Bible". Are the Lo's and the Behold's replaced with Yar's or something?

"Yar, and Jesus said to his disciples, 'Yar, I am with you always, even to the end of the age, Yarmen.'"


Or maybe each Bible comes with a complimentary bottle of holy rum to aid in further contemplating the higher meanings of such verses as:

"And Jesus said to them, 'Yar, follow me, and I will make you fishers of seamen.'"


Or maybe instead of the black silk page marker that comes standard in so many other Bibles, it comes with a little chain and weighted anchor to keep your place.


Another possibility is perhaps the Sailor's Bible makes minor alterations on some of Jesus' parables to make them more meaningful for sailors. For example, the one concerning the traveling man and his three servants:

"Unto one of them he gave five talents, to another two talents, and to the last, who was a sailor, he gave a boat. After this, the master went off on his journey. The first took the five talents and traded with the same, and made five talents more from them. Yar, likewise he who had received two also gained two. But he who was given the boat sailed around the world, claiming priceless treasures as well as several wenches and a solid gold compass for himself. Yar, upon the master's return, he was pleased with the success of the first two servants, but was completely overjoyed at the amazing talents of the third, making him king of the land and giving him all the rum he could possibly drink. The End."


Lastly, maybe the Sailor's Bible elaborates slightly in places where nautical information can be expanded upon.

"Yar, and Jesus got into the boat and crossed over to the other side, traveling three knots per hour, in light crosswinds, with fair sea conditions and waves reaching up to two feet. It was a majestic craft, made from pure cedar. She was easy to steer and she seemed to practically glide across the water. The decks were freshly swabbed and the air was ripe with fish."


Meh, I don't know what the difference is. Do sailors even say Yar? Or is that just pirates? I bet Pontius Pirate would know the answer.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Some Pictures From Hume Lake

Click to Enlarge!

Erica taking a picture in the car on the way home:


Me taking a couple pictures in the car on the way home:




Miss Erica and Goofy, err, I mean Ivan:


Me and 'Ca:


Teri and Ivan:


The Add-Ults:


Joey Thatcher:


The kids: (From Left to Right: Chris (Jake's friend), Me, Sabina Timothy, Teri, Gabriella Thatcher, Ivan's head, Jake Timothy, Joey Thatcher, Erica's left side, Ben (David's friend), and David Thatcher)



Me with my beard!: