Hello Everyone!
Walter J. Scott here. Miss Josten (For reasons I cannot explain) has made me a co-author of her amazing blog. So, for today, you all get to listen to me ramble!
If you have been following the Foam Cabinet as religiously as I have, you will have heard about Cale's seemingly overwhelming desire to tell us something about cats. Regrettably, her camera has been infected by an alien pathogen, and she has been unable to do anything of the sort.
So, today I'm going to put all our minds at ease with a small tidbit about our fine feline friends. To all those who actually own a member of the genus Felis Catus (Yes, I said Catus. Look it up.), I'm sure you will agree whole-heartedly with every point made in the following.
*Please note that no animals were harmed in the making of this film*
Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ef3gzn5vMoo
Friday, August 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Wide Open
"In the event that the Foam Cabinet should self-destruct, please keep your distance."
Such a strange instruction... I mean, if the Foam Cabinet (or anything for that matter) was to explode into a billion piecelets, who WOULDN'T back off?
Guess what. Every time we are about to make the wrong decision...
Boom!
We are clearly told: "THIS IS A BAD IDEA. PLEASE STOP IMMEDIATELY."
And we act so surprised if our lame decision-making skills blow up in our faces...
Anyway, I'm pretty sure I had something entirely different to say. Upon openeing the Foam Cabinet today, I found expanse.
There is are "proper" definitions of expanse... such as "a wide extent of uninterrupted space" or "a big place with nothing in it".
I have found an expanse in my mind. My perspective has zoomed out a little bit, and I now understand more than I did prior to this week.
I understand the concept of opposites in people's understanding: How someone can seem almost perfect, but then have that one weak spot where they never fail to struggle in the understanding of others. That one paarticular spot happens to be opposite to what their strength is. (That probably sounds a little confusing...)
I understand estimation as a convenient alternate to exactness, as being so precise causes headache and computer crashes. (This mainly applies to fractal and infinite sums in math, but also in feelings, communication, interpretation, and so on.)
I understand that love is not linked with fear, and vice versa. So, if I fear that my "love" will be lost, it must be something smaller (like infatuation, attraction, or temporary admiration).
I understand that it is pointless to complain about anything. Complaining NEVER fixes problems.
I understand that I am not the center of the universe (either because they say the universe has no center, or because I'm not the most important being in existence...). Sadly, I have to be reminded of this repeatedly. To put others first is easy to talk about, but hard as mess to do. But, practice makes perfect!
As a brilliant rabbit-trail:
My brothers have succeeded in putting a photo of a nearly-naked young lady (anyone with nothing but a bikini on is practically naked) from our cereal box through the shredder. I am SO proud.
Anyways... expanse. I think I'll take a stroll in it to get a better picture of what God has placed in this life. Maybe I'll find a friend! Maybe I'll find a strawberry flavored breadstick! Maybe I'll find the cure to cancer! Maybe I'll find a dying man... Who knows? Whatever the case, I can't just sit here.
Ciao for now!
Such a strange instruction... I mean, if the Foam Cabinet (or anything for that matter) was to explode into a billion piecelets, who WOULDN'T back off?
Guess what. Every time we are about to make the wrong decision...
Boom!
We are clearly told: "THIS IS A BAD IDEA. PLEASE STOP IMMEDIATELY."
And we act so surprised if our lame decision-making skills blow up in our faces...
Anyway, I'm pretty sure I had something entirely different to say. Upon openeing the Foam Cabinet today, I found expanse.
There is are "proper" definitions of expanse... such as "a wide extent of uninterrupted space" or "a big place with nothing in it".
I have found an expanse in my mind. My perspective has zoomed out a little bit, and I now understand more than I did prior to this week.
I understand the concept of opposites in people's understanding: How someone can seem almost perfect, but then have that one weak spot where they never fail to struggle in the understanding of others. That one paarticular spot happens to be opposite to what their strength is. (That probably sounds a little confusing...)
I understand estimation as a convenient alternate to exactness, as being so precise causes headache and computer crashes. (This mainly applies to fractal and infinite sums in math, but also in feelings, communication, interpretation, and so on.)
I understand that love is not linked with fear, and vice versa. So, if I fear that my "love" will be lost, it must be something smaller (like infatuation, attraction, or temporary admiration).
I understand that it is pointless to complain about anything. Complaining NEVER fixes problems.
I understand that I am not the center of the universe (either because they say the universe has no center, or because I'm not the most important being in existence...). Sadly, I have to be reminded of this repeatedly. To put others first is easy to talk about, but hard as mess to do. But, practice makes perfect!
As a brilliant rabbit-trail:
My brothers have succeeded in putting a photo of a nearly-naked young lady (anyone with nothing but a bikini on is practically naked) from our cereal box through the shredder. I am SO proud.
Anyways... expanse. I think I'll take a stroll in it to get a better picture of what God has placed in this life. Maybe I'll find a friend! Maybe I'll find a strawberry flavored breadstick! Maybe I'll find the cure to cancer! Maybe I'll find a dying man... Who knows? Whatever the case, I can't just sit here.
Ciao for now!
Monday, August 1, 2011
Might As Well
Because today is the first day of school, the Foam Cabinet thought it to be brilliant to give me a recap of the first day of school. How very dull.
So I'll make it interesting! =D
My alarm blares at five thirty in the morning. Thinking it's an important text, my heart rate shoots up to a few zillion beats per minute. I look at my phone to see:
Get up. NOW. Oh, and God says, "Hello!"
This will be my text message from God every morning, unless someone is a brilliant ninja and changes my alarm note each day.
So, I got up after around fifteen minutes of "stupid" time. This time is where I lay in bed, but with my eyes open, not closed. I should probably do this sitting up, though. I have a sinking feeling that my body will sleep whenever it is in the horizontal position in the near future...
Eventually, my feet hit the ground. I grab my Bible and read about peace and joy and being unashamed. Then I get out of bed and put my art projects into my Really Useful Box. (That thing is almost as awesome as the Foam Cabinet, to be honest. It lives up to its name...)
After dressing in my red "J stands for teleportation" shirt, black skinny jeans, black Polo boots, and my pimpin' yellow jacket, I head off to find breakfast and the like.
My mom ends up taking me to school, so I didn't end up riding the bus at all today. I had too much stuff to carry. (Thank you, AP 3D Art!) We get to the school, and it's not even seven. I proceed to obtain my schedule and explore the campus.
This is my schedule:
1st - AP Art
2nd - AP Art
3rd - Physics
4th - AC Math 3 (Basically Math 4)
5th - Honors US History
LUNCH WITH ALMOST EVERYONE I KNOW.
6th - Honors British Literature
7th - PERCUSSION!! (Followed by a few hours of marching band practice...)
Thus my days shall align similarly.
First and second period blended together quite smoothly. Nothing interesting happened.
Physics consisted of Coach Way talking our heads off about stuff we've heard at least twenty times, and an observation activity. The observation activity seemed to expect us to be Canadian...
Math contains 13 students; the golden number of love--something like that. This is a fairly small number for a classroom in a school of well over 2000 students. I really like the teacher; he explains stuff in a simple, logical way. Morning Time says he's boring. I say he's awesome. Because I can actually take decent notes in that class.
Speaking of notes, I've got four special books for note-taking. They are as follows:
The Notebook of Love (Math)
The Notebook of Joy (Literature)
The Notebook of Peace (Social Studies/History)
The Notebook of Wonder (Science)
I love math, reading gives me joy, learning of the past makes my mind at peace for understanding, and science is math put into a complecated application of wonderous qualities.
I'm such a nerd!
Anyway, I walk into US History (which has the same rockin' teacher as last year's history class), and the room is split. Most of the students sit at the side closest to the door. J-LO and Trixie sit on the complete opposite side of everyone else. Where do I sit?
In the red seat located in the very center of the room, of course! Duh...
I'm obsessed with that single red chair.
Lunch was a new experience. I ate with sophomores, instead of my usual band-junior-friend-people. And, instead of snaking and yaking inside, I ate out of doors. My Really Useful Box was a really useful table...
When I walk into BritLit, nearly all the seats are taken. The whole class is quiet, though, aside from the teacher's lecturing. As I sit down, I smile slyly to myself thinking, "Yes! A strict teacher who KNOWS what she's doing!" She's cool. I like her already. She's the kind of person you don't want to mess with. Odd... I'm a generally rebellious kid--in a good way.
She establishes that a few of us (including me) are nerds, and that it is impolite to stretch.
Percussion is the biggest class; probably because it's also for color guard. We sit. We listen. We change clothes. We go outside. We reherse for a few hours.
Day one: complete.
The End.
Or should I say... The Beginning...
That's the gist of it, I suppose. I apologize again about the absence of kitties. My camera's being absolutely retarded.
All my papers are signed; my supper has been eaten; we're not allowed to play computer games or watch television except on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays; Walter Scott (Soccer Boy #13's real fake name) has yet to tell me about his day... It's nearly eight-o-clock. What a day in the life of Cale Josten.
So I'll make it interesting! =D
My alarm blares at five thirty in the morning. Thinking it's an important text, my heart rate shoots up to a few zillion beats per minute. I look at my phone to see:
Get up. NOW. Oh, and God says, "Hello!"
This will be my text message from God every morning, unless someone is a brilliant ninja and changes my alarm note each day.
So, I got up after around fifteen minutes of "stupid" time. This time is where I lay in bed, but with my eyes open, not closed. I should probably do this sitting up, though. I have a sinking feeling that my body will sleep whenever it is in the horizontal position in the near future...
Eventually, my feet hit the ground. I grab my Bible and read about peace and joy and being unashamed. Then I get out of bed and put my art projects into my Really Useful Box. (That thing is almost as awesome as the Foam Cabinet, to be honest. It lives up to its name...)
After dressing in my red "J stands for teleportation" shirt, black skinny jeans, black Polo boots, and my pimpin' yellow jacket, I head off to find breakfast and the like.
My mom ends up taking me to school, so I didn't end up riding the bus at all today. I had too much stuff to carry. (Thank you, AP 3D Art!) We get to the school, and it's not even seven. I proceed to obtain my schedule and explore the campus.
This is my schedule:
1st - AP Art
2nd - AP Art
3rd - Physics
4th - AC Math 3 (Basically Math 4)
5th - Honors US History
LUNCH WITH ALMOST EVERYONE I KNOW.
6th - Honors British Literature
7th - PERCUSSION!! (Followed by a few hours of marching band practice...)
Thus my days shall align similarly.
First and second period blended together quite smoothly. Nothing interesting happened.
Physics consisted of Coach Way talking our heads off about stuff we've heard at least twenty times, and an observation activity. The observation activity seemed to expect us to be Canadian...
Math contains 13 students; the golden number of love--something like that. This is a fairly small number for a classroom in a school of well over 2000 students. I really like the teacher; he explains stuff in a simple, logical way. Morning Time says he's boring. I say he's awesome. Because I can actually take decent notes in that class.
Speaking of notes, I've got four special books for note-taking. They are as follows:
The Notebook of Love (Math)
The Notebook of Joy (Literature)
The Notebook of Peace (Social Studies/History)
The Notebook of Wonder (Science)
I love math, reading gives me joy, learning of the past makes my mind at peace for understanding, and science is math put into a complecated application of wonderous qualities.
I'm such a nerd!
Anyway, I walk into US History (which has the same rockin' teacher as last year's history class), and the room is split. Most of the students sit at the side closest to the door. J-LO and Trixie sit on the complete opposite side of everyone else. Where do I sit?
In the red seat located in the very center of the room, of course! Duh...
I'm obsessed with that single red chair.
Lunch was a new experience. I ate with sophomores, instead of my usual band-junior-friend-people. And, instead of snaking and yaking inside, I ate out of doors. My Really Useful Box was a really useful table...
When I walk into BritLit, nearly all the seats are taken. The whole class is quiet, though, aside from the teacher's lecturing. As I sit down, I smile slyly to myself thinking, "Yes! A strict teacher who KNOWS what she's doing!" She's cool. I like her already. She's the kind of person you don't want to mess with. Odd... I'm a generally rebellious kid--in a good way.
She establishes that a few of us (including me) are nerds, and that it is impolite to stretch.
Percussion is the biggest class; probably because it's also for color guard. We sit. We listen. We change clothes. We go outside. We reherse for a few hours.
Day one: complete.
The End.
Or should I say... The Beginning...
That's the gist of it, I suppose. I apologize again about the absence of kitties. My camera's being absolutely retarded.
All my papers are signed; my supper has been eaten; we're not allowed to play computer games or watch television except on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays; Walter Scott (Soccer Boy #13's real fake name) has yet to tell me about his day... It's nearly eight-o-clock. What a day in the life of Cale Josten.
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