Blog overhaul

So, maybe, I figure, it's about time to overhaul this blog.  I have some great stuff here.  I have some not-so-great stuff here.  Because of this, I'll be creating a whole new blog for professional arguments and stories instead of mindless rants.

Stay tuned.

Conor Grennan, author of Little Princes, visits Bona’s

Conor Grennan, author of Little Princes:  One Man’s Journey to Find the Lost Children of Nepal, visited St. Bonaventure’s campus Monday to deliver a speech to the class of 2015.

Little Princes tells the story of Conor’s first experience with the children at the Little Princes orphanage in Nepal.  Before long, he comes across a horrifying detail:  These children are not orphans.  Child traffickers fooled their families and sold the children into slavery. 

When Conor realizes that he has a responsibility to these children, he embarks on a journey to return the lost children to their parents.  He endures civil war, Maoist leaders, limited food, and the treacherous mountains of Nepal to bring them home.

He and his organization, NGN—Next Generation Nepal—have returned an alarming 250 trafficked, abused, and malnourished children to their homes.

But he won’t brag about it.

Search engine filter bubbles should be popped

If you are going to use the Internet, use it wisely.

Growing evidence shows it feeds us what it thinks we want, not necessarily what we need.

Eli Pariser, author of The Filter Bubble, says that search engines filter search results to cater to your favorite past selections.  Pariser cautions this can lead to search engines confining many people within their own preferences and narrowing their worldview.

But don’t worry.  If you follow a few simple steps, you can pop the filter bubble.

Murphy Laps, twice as long

Black ink titled my fresh notebook page with “Five things I noticed,” after taking a lap around the inner walls of Murphy this afternoon.  “This isn’t too bad,” I thought, not realizing I should have brought my running shoes for the three consecutive laps I would take post-list.

Number one, sounds of different shoes walking.  Two:  Room 111’s sign changed, now displaying “Journalism/Mass Communication” on the door.  Three, you must sign the equipment back into the lab.  No exceptions.  And so on.

Meanwhile, my syllabus rests impatiently on my green folder, and I wonder when we will read through that so I can get back outside and in the sunshine.

Instead, we lap again.  What can you hear?  What can you taste?  Is the water from the fountain a little bit metallic?  And we return to our wheely seats to make another list.

Sharp

     A round lake, with buildings like a shopping mall between it.  Sunny skies, and my hair is three feet long.  A friend, and her Grandmother insists I change into blue shorts.  Sand, and people I don’t know.  And a shark.  A dominating, spiteful, sharp-toothed shark.  Naturally, as the shark approaches, the lake becomes a hurricane, and my friend, a mermaid.

     Let’s play a game:

     To see a shark in your dream indicates feelings of anger, hostility, and fierceness.

Round three, day two. I'll get more creative with titles soon.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

What do you mean I have to write on my first day back?  About walking the halls?

Black ink titled my fresh notebook page with “Five things I noticed,” after taking a lap around the inner walls of Murphy this afternoon.  “This isn’t too bad,” I thought, not realizing I should have brought my running shoes for the three consecutive laps I would take post-list.

            Number one, sounds of different shoes walking.  Two:  Room 111’s sign changed, now displaying “Journalism/Mass Communications” on the door.  Three, you must sign the equipment back into the lab.  No exceptions.  And so on.

Bona's, round three

Monday, August 29, 2011

     Today was the first day of classes, but not for me. Although sleeping until noon’s rewards were not disguised, I felt misplaced without my fresh notebook and RSVP pens strapped to my back in the Hickey.  Not to worry, Amanda.  Tomorrow, you’ll be glad you had today. Three undergrad classes separate my morning from my evening, two in which the promise of interviews and deadlines will call official end to summer vacation. The other?  I’ve read the Odyssey already.

     I was unable to find a food today that I could swallow down as a side salad to my feelings.  Both do well together somewhere deep inside my tummy, but instead, emptiness left both my mind and Pooh Bear belly unsatisfied.