Dreams

     When I hear the word "dream" the first thing that comes to mind is a simple bubble above ones head just like they're drawn in a comic.  The idea of a dream is so odd to think about.  I mean, how can someone be in such a deep state of mind and completely believe that what is going on in their subconscience is actually real.  The movie "Inception" looked really far into this and I found it really cool despite its fiction.  A thief infiltrates the subconscience of his targets to have a chance at getting his life back.  Once he gets people to dream within his dream, the whole world moves much slower, giving him much more time to accomplish things in the real world.  Inside the dream, whoever the dreamer was, they could control whatever happened in the dream with their thoughts because it was their dream.  The idea that one can have a dream within a dream is also presented in the movie; each time there was a kick or death, the dream would end and each person would go back to the real world.  Such an interesting idea that was stretched a little bit to make a really intriguing movie.
    In my personal experience with dreaming, I have found similar aspects to those of "Inception".  I've had a reoccurring one where I've been falling off a cliff and right before I hit the ground, I wake up realizing that I'm taking a deep breath of air.  I've actually had a lot of reoccurring dreams, but theres only 3 that stand out.  1.) When I get to school and realize that I forgot to put clothes on, and thinking to myself how I could have possibly missed such an obvious step in my morning routine.  2.) Running from someone who is trying to harm me and I am incapable of moving faster than a slow walking pace, which is extremely frustrating.  3.) I am on a really fun vacation having the time of my life and just as I reach the peak of my good time, I wake up and realize that Im in my bed and have to go to school in an hour.
   Everyone has different dreams, but there's my experience with them.  What a weird concept they are.

Math Class

The subject of mathematics is something that has haunted me since approximately the sixth grade. Throughout middle school I did really well on all my quizzes and tests, until my sixth grade math class. We were in the second quarter learning some math related topic and afterwards we had to take a test on the material. Standard procedure one would assume, however, for me this test was the first, among many, math tests that I did horribly on. Ever since the day I got that test back, I was never able to grasp math very well. I don't know what happened, but that was the turning point for me in the life of math. I know this blog is a place to rant on about ones problems or to talk about a new favorite album you have, but I decided to rant on about how much math sucks. To me it is an awful subject, that although I realize is a necessary part to one's education, I really despise it. Yet, even though I hate it with an indescribable passion, I still try my best to do well in the class. The main thing that gets me by in the class is my one rule: If you don't know what you are doing, plug and chug.

A User's Guide to the Lakes of New England

Over the school year, we pick up tons of useful information, whether or not we like the process of learning it. However, part of what makes the start of the school year after the summer so shockingly enticing is that, as fun as the summer is, it is also three months of learning nothing, and the human brain was designed to absorb information. I like to think that I absorb some things from my experience over the summer. But this summer, I spent literally 50% of the vacation at various lakes around New England (I use the term "Lakes of New England" loosely, as by "various lakes" I mean about three, and one ocean, not to mention that one of them is not even in New England), so while I learned nothing about math, science or the humanities, I acquired a pretty in depth understanding of a few societies around America. And since what makes humans superior as a race is there ability to pass on information, I may as well pass on what I learned. Who knows? Maybe someone someday will find this knowledge useful.

We'll start with the one outlier--Lake Powell. Hardly even a lake, and definitely not in New England,  Lake Powell is nevertheless one of the most beautiful bodies of water that I've ever been to. And more pleasing is that I was not at a hotel, nor a house on the lake... well, technically it was a house on the lake. But it was a house literally on the lake. My family took our houseboat out on the lake and spent a week in the canyon that is Lake Powell. And while the society was not a particular social one, there are many things you can and should learn about spending a week on the water with thousands of other people who have the same idea.
1. When you park your houseboat for the night, keep it in an area away from other people. You may enjoy partying, but you certainly won't enjoy other people partying while you're trying sleep. And vice versa, sound travels like crazy on water, so it's only polite to party in an obscure nook in the lake.
2. Sound travels like crazy on water. I had no idea until I was across the water from a boat and could hear everything they were saying, whether or not they were shouting. It made me wonder how much people were hearing from my boat, and from then on, whenever I was near a boat, I talked in hushed voices. You never know who's listening.
3. Finally, check the depth meter before going off the water slide. Pretty self explanatory.

Okay, now for the other one that doesn't quite fit in: the Atlantic Ocean. But more accurately, Bar Harbor, Maine. I spent a week with my family at my house there (the first time in a few years) and realized it was exactly as I remembered it. Bar Harbor is, above all, a tourist town. You won't find yourself making personal connections with other campers up there, so make sure you're nice and cozy with the people you travel there with, because when all you're doing is hitting tourist attractions, you won't have time for socializing.
1. I'll reiterate: be sure to enjoy the company of the people you go with. Between Acadia National Park, the carriage biking trails, downtown Bar Harbor, and of course the Jordan Pond House, you won't be put in situations to meet new people, just situations to bond with the people you went with.
2. Bar Harbor may be a tourist town, but its one of the best ones out there. So hit all the tourist attractions before trying to find something else to do. Most of all, go to Acadia National Park. You won't feel more alive than when you're taking a 10-mile-long bike ride to the Pond House, or hiking the pseudo-dangerous Precipice Trail 1000 feet up the face of Champlain Mountain. Bar Harbor may not be a place to socialize, but its the best place to feel alive.
3. The road to Hell is paved with un-bought lobster boxers. The one thing I found worth buying in downtown Bar Harbor was a pair of tourist-y lobster boxers and matching sleep pants. They're pretty awesome, and super cheap (only $15 per pair, and $25 for the pants) so don't leave Bar Harbor without them.

As for actual lakes, Lake Seymour on Vermont, a rather unheard of one, can be quite enjoyable if you're fine putting extravagance behind you and embracing the quaint spirit of Vermont. The cabins are small, the boats are old, the beaches are only about twenty square feet, and yet there is a unique feel to the area: one that is unachievable anywhere else. I spent only a week on Lake Seymour, just like the aforementioned two vacations, but time slows there, and it felt like so much longer. Here's a few tips on how to live your life (or just your week) on Lake Seymour.
1. Get out on the water. I'd give the same advice about Lake Winnipesaukee (see below), however there is a certain stillness to Lake Seymour that cannot be achieved anywhere else. It is a small enough lake that there is little to no traffic on it, and yet large enough that there is plenty of space to engage in water activities. And while water skiing is fun, I personally have got to suggest kayaking: you won't get the same kayaking experience elsewhere.
2. While we're on the subject of kayaking, there is a small river off the lake that ends at a dam. Make a trip there. And while you're at it, don't speak--just kayak silently down the river. It is impossible to describe the experience in words, but if you want a story and you're on Lake Seymour, go there.
3. Lake Seymour is broken up into neighborhoods assigned to small beaches. So get to know your neighbors. The whole week (or longer, depending on how long you're there for), you'll be seeing those people down at the beach. Even though Lake Seymour tends to be an introverted experience, it's only enhanced by having people to spend it with.

Without a doubt, I absorbed the most information from Winnipesaukee, considering that I spent the bulk of my vacations there. I put it here last because I thought I could spend the most time on it, but since the three before it took up so much space, I'll be brief.
1. John Marriott Jr. Jr. Jr. throws the best parties. Not just the best on Lake Winnipesaukee. Literally, the best anywhere. Kind of makes sense, considering he's J.W. Bill Marriott's grandson. Do whatever you can to get your hands on an invitation.
2. Similarly, don't go near Mitt Romney's lake house without an invitation waving in your hand. Even if it's just in your bag. Oh. Also, don't go near Mitt Romney's lake house with a bag. Intentions can be misunderstood.
3. And last of all, while Winnipesaukee may be big, it's not big enough to amuse you for an entire month, unless you make friends. People of all ages stay there, and it's a huge lake. Without integrating yourself into the society of Winnipesaukee, you'll probably have a pretty miserable time. But if you do integrate yourself, you'll have a time that you never forget.

Cas Stone

“Then let us be rid of it... once and for all! Come on, Mr. Frodo. I can't carry it for you... but I can carry you!” - Samwise Gamgee

I asked someone what I should write about in this blog, because frankly, I had no clue.  He told me that it would be a good idea to write about Hobbits.  I told him he was being ridiculous, he assured me he was completely serious, so I’ll take his word for it.

            I love hobbits.  To me, they are more than little chubby people who make even me look tall by comparison.  They are the soul of the greatest series known to mankind: Lord of the Rings.  What kind of a person can imagine life without Lord of the Rings?  I certainly can’t.  I remember when I was a freshmen I told someone I hadn’t seen the Lord of the Rings movies.  He returned my comment with a blank, stunned stare.  After taking a moment to recover from his shock he explained to me that if I hadn’t watched Lord of the Rings, my life wasn’t complete.  So I finally set aside three and a half hours to watch the first movie, and to my surprise, my classmate had been right, my life was now finally complete.

I honestly believe that I will never again see anything as inspiring as the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.  I admire Gandalf for possessing extraordinary magic powers, and for remaining loyal to the cause he believes in.  I love how Aragon starts out as a ranger, who then accepts his true destiny as the king of man.  I wish I shared Gilmi’s endurance and uncanny accuracy with a bow.  So don’t get me wrong, all of these characters are stars, but these stars are outshone by the hobbits.

            Hobbits are easy going and relaxed creatures who don’t like adventures.  They prefer to live a predictable day to day village life.  And yet, they are the creatures who embark on the greatest adventure I have ever witnessed.  To the untrained eye, hobbits may not seem particularly special.  They have to magic power, like Harry Potter; They can not harness the power of the force like a Jedi.  Hobbits have one thing to rely on and one thing alone: themselves.  I am just as talented as a Hobbit is, but I assure you I wouldn’t succeed in the Hobbits’ place.  How then are they successful?  It is because they become determined to accomplish a task, and then they don’t stop until they are successful.  Hobbits prove that you don’t have to be something special to accomplish something special.  Hobbits succeed because they choose to.

            And this is why I am sitting here in agony, waiting for the first part of The Hobbit to come out.  I expect that it will be and epic journey, and at the center of this journey, there will be a hobbit, on an adventure, fighting against the odds.

Turtles

Ever since I was a little girl, I have loved turtles. Most seven-year-old girls ask their parents for a hamster, puppy, or kitty regularly. Maybe it was because at that point I already had a dog, a cat, a guinea pig, and a rabbit, but for me, it was turtles.
I would beg my parents to take me to the pet store on the weekends, staring into the tanks where the painted turtles sat basking in the artificial sunlight of a heat lamp or swimming through the water with just the tip of their nose poking out. Every time my parents took me to the Boston Aquarium I would make them see the turtle show with me, where Myrtle, a 70-year-old loggerhead, would swim slowly around the top of the tank and a marine biologist would tell us all about her.
When I was in third grade, my father finally gave in to my incessant begging and ordered me two baby turtles from the internet. When the arrived they were just the size of a quarter. I named them Myrtle and Yertle. Unfortunately, turtles are not good travelers as I soon learned. Myrtle only lived for two weeks after she arrived, Yertle even less. I was devastated.
Still, my love for turtles continued. When I went to Hawaii the next year, I was dreadfully disappointed at not seeing a sea turtle while snorkeling, even though I saw fish of every color of the rainbow darting about my feet. In Saint John, USVI in sixth grade I saw an octopus, but was still upset about not coming across a sea turtle.
Finally, my sophomore year, on a trip to Isla Mujeres, an eight-square-mile island off the coast of Cancun, I got my wish. Although Isla doesn't have much, one thing it is famous for is Turtugranja, a sea-turtle sanctuary. It's not very big, just a squat, dark building with a small pen on the outside and a tank next to the ocean. As I entered the building and my eyes adjusted a I saw two large tanks, each separated into three sections. In the tanks on the right swam three generations of turtle, one in each area. They were a strange greyish color. Upon asking one of the workers, I learned that they were albino! They can't survive more than two weeks in the ocean, because without their pigment the sunburn will kill them. Then he reached into the middle tank, which held a turtle about the size of a dinner plate, and scooped it out of the water. "Quieres tenerlo?" he held out the turtle to me. He showed me how to grip its sides so that its flippers wouldn't hit me. I posed for a picture as it flapped its arms and legs, like a bird trying to take flight. It's an awful picture of me, I look demonic with red-eye and a huge grin because I couldn't contain my excitement.
Then the guide took me outside and back in another door, where he showed me turtles smaller than my fist, some without fins or tails, swimming around in a little tank together. He explained to me that all these turtles were unable to survive in the wild, and that I couldn't hold them because they were so fragile. Next he took me to the outdoor pen, where he handed me a painted turtle to hold as well. He motioned with his hands next to his mouth, telling me I should give the turtle a kiss. I smiled and held it up to my lips - my turtle prince.

Summertime

During the summer I am extremely busy, I work many jobs and try to make sure I keep my family and friends happy. I try to make as much money as I can because I don't have as much time to work during the school year. It is a really hard juggling act that took a lot out of me. 

The most time consuming job I had was working as a camp councilor and mountain bike instructor at Coyote Hill. It was a total of 5 weeks, 3 of which were in Fairlee Vermont at the owners house. The other 2 weeks were split between a day camp at stores pond and a day camp in Randolph Vermont. This is one of those jobs where I expect to get paid but it is not my main concern. I enjoy teaching more than anything, I get in shape and I do what I love to do. I got to meet hundreds of kids and I have a very good relationship with the Owner of the camp. I actually went to the camp starting when I was 7 up to when I was old enough to start teaching. Its awesome, I get paid doing what I love.

Working at Kendal At Hanover as a waiter is a job I have had for over 2 years and I know the staff and the residents very well. Working there has really good life lessons to teach.  Since I work in a dining room that serves food to people who live in the assisted living part of kendal, I have to lend a helping hand to a lot of residents who are suffering from something like dementia or alzheimer's. Working as a waiter seems self explanatory but, my boss always reminds me that the least important thing I do is serve food. She always reminds us that talking to the residents and caring for them is the most important thing. It is obvious that it is appreciated. 

At the end of the summer I got a job at the Hanover Country Club as a club house attendant. I work with some interesting people there and I have fun and the manager at the Club is a very good friend of mine so it works out well. Seeing that I am a bike mechanic I am mechanically inclined and very hands on, I have been fixing a lot of the carts that have kicked the bucket. I really enjoy doing it because it is a learning experience, I like it, and it is obvious that not only do the people who go there like it, but the manger appreciates it as well. 

Right now I am still working at Kendal, still working at the golf course, and I try to keep my bike mechanic knowledge up to par. I do other odd jobs here and there but since I work every day it is hard to find time for other jobs. 

Joe Murphy
no idea how to use the blog... here you go...

           There are many things to do during the winter in New England, but the most invigorating activity is by far skiing. As unbelievable as it may seem the ski was invented before the wheel. Man first used it during the last ice age, yet not to rush down mountains or go off jumps, it was used a survival mechanism. Our ancestors used it escape from predators, or to retreat from binding situations. As you can see skiing has evolved extensively since then, now it is used as a sport or recreational activity.
           Many different families all over America have adopted skiing. That has led to the creation of the ski mountain where people pay to be hauled up a to the top of a mountain and ski down. I would hope that you know what a skiing resort is; yet that is the basic idea.

There are many different styles to skiing that people of all ages can enjoy. Although the there are two main sports based on skiing; racing and freestyle, they are not for all, and that’s okay. If you are just starting out there are many different difficulty options from nearly flat slopes to vertical drops. This makes it easy for all people to learn at the speed that they chose.

Once you get comfortable with you skiing abilities, you may venture into the many other, more challenging aspects of skiing. As stated before one of those options would be freestyle skiing, a mixture of jumps and rails. Rails are basically railing that you can “grind” on by jumping on to them and sliding down. This is probably the most invigorating style of skiing.

Fall

School now seems more "in session" than it was for those first few days when the schedule was off and the freshmen weren't sure if they were on the right floor. Everyone is settling in: our schedules are programmed into our heads and tests loom on the horizon. With these routines comes a new season - one that reminds us with a earlier dusk that it's no longer summer when the days never had to end. Everything seems to matter more because we can't push deadlines and schedules out of our heads without worry. However, there's a positive - at least for some of us. With piles of homework and essays to write come 40 degree mornings and burnt orange leaves.

By October, waking up at six in the morning feels a little extreme and incredibly unrealistic. But in September, I'm awake at six almost by default and the dark blue outside before the sun rises is somehow comforting. When summer is on its last leg and the winds start to pick up, I know my favorite season is well on its way. For a lot of people, it's the foliage that does it. To me, its not so much the scenery as it is the air. The atmosphere seems to change and everything feels clean. Then again, I do start to notice the things that I didn't care about for the past two months. The trees have gotten taller and grass that has been tended to carefully is now turning brown. It seems, ironically, that things are gaining more and more life as September trudges on.

During fall, everything and everyone has somewhere to go. Summer was unstructured and unscheduled, allowing for soft chaos and a simpler life. We have to be in the car on the way to school, in class, at sports practices, at play rehearsal, writing a blog post for English class, and in bed at a reasonable (or not so reasonable) time. Time slows down because most of us don't want it to, and these overwhelming priorities and events don't seem so overwhelming. Fall makes structured time seem less of a daunting concept after the laziness of summer.

When it comes down to the wire, this season's debut in New England is a sight to see. There's a reason for the tourists and the fascination. Our world becomes a warm mix of browns, golds and reds, and the crisp air moves through everything in its path. The foliage brings in a crowd that appreciates the annual colors that we won't see until next year. And while the scenery certainly isn't for everyone, "Lost" from Channel Orange has definitely made the view from the bus window better for me.

David Byrne & St. Vincent – Love This Giant

Looking for new, interesting music? So is everyone else. Here's a collaboration that you probably didn't see coming – St. Vincent, the folk/rock singer-songwriter with the voice of angel, has teamed up with David Byrne, the quirky former lead singer of the Talking Heads, to release Love This Giant. And this album is indeed a giant you can love, as long as you're not afraid to step out of your musical comfort zone.

First, a quick background of the artists. Even if you don't listen to Talking Heads on a regular basis, you've probably heard "Psycho Killer" and "And She Was". They could best be described as an alternative, post-punk, dance-rock group; the group focuses heavily on funky electronic sounds and Byrne's distinctive and occasionally whacky vocals. St. Vincent, meanwhile, is quieter than the Talking Heads but could also be described as bold. Her floating vocal lines sometimes conceal surprisingly sharp lyrics. She plays a variety of instruments, including the organ and theremin, and her producing style often features strings woodwinds. The two musician's experimental backgrounds lend to the album's uncut, clashing feel, yet they both have an excellent sense for what sounds good.

The album starts off with "Who", a single that you are not likely to forget any time soon after you hear it. The song begins with sparse, chaotic horn samples that clash both rhythmically and tonally throughout the intro. However, they instantly and seamlessly mesh into a funky groove just in time for Byrne's distinctive voice to make its entrance. Soon the beat breaks down and St. Vincent makes her entrance with an ethereal vocal line. The most distinctive aspect of this song is the orchestration, which features an enormous variety of instruments and samples that all seem to belong right where they are. This chaotic producing carries on through the entire album, relying heavily on blaring brass and syncopated electric beats.

Highlights of the rest of the album include "Weekend In The Dust", in which St. Vincent lays down a solid melody over a ridiculously funky tuba riff; "I Am An Ape", where Byrne reveals a softer side of his voice that retains the distinction of even his wildest songs; and "The One Who Broke Your Heart", which seems to break into an almost samba-like feel during the chorus. However, every single song is completely unique and worth a listen.

If nothing else, "Love This Giant" is a new sound. The album officially releases on September 11 – I look forward to buying the CD as soon as possible. If you want to listen to it before then, NPR's website offers a free listen-through which I highly suggest. And if you hate it, well, at least you tried something different.