B: Bouncy Workout

What kinds of exercises do you all do?
Lunges?
Crunches?
Push-ups?
Pull-ups?
That's so original  though. People have been pushing and pulling their body weight for such a long time now and it's no wonder why people don't work out as much as they used to. We all need moderation or else our lives will be nothing but a movie that has the same ending no matter how many times it has been watched. This is kind of a problem because exercise is pretty important. Since there seems to be no moderation, people are sitting around watching movies all day.

Hey!

What if I told you that there is more to life than doing boring moves on the ground as exercise? I was totally shocked when I figured this one out too, but I'm glad I did or else I would be part-human, part couch for the rest of my life. Being a couch-woman would not be pleasant! They don't make couch-plus clothing! So, really listen to me when I say that there is a miracle coming your way. Things are about to get serious here.

Instead of tiring yourself out in plank position, why not go on...

THE PRECOR ADAPTIVE MOTION TRAINER with open stride?

precor.com

This machine isn't just your ordinary elliptical looking machine. Oh, no. It's much more than that. This machine "...is better than running or climbing. It's like doing them in mid-air," Precor.com states. When you get on this machine, you are basically bouncing up and down while you stride as if you are running. I went on this bad boy after I got off of the stationary bike and saw that the machine I wanted to get on was being used. I saw the bright, blue decoration on the Precor machine and I just had to try it. I thought it was going to be as boring as an elliptical  but then I started to bounce up and down. I was having a ball on this thing! When I set the climbing resistance all the way up to its maximum amount of 5, I felt like I was on a trampoline/moonbounce. As I was bouncing, I was running too! All I have to say is this is the most awesome piece of exercise equipment I have ever been on.

Moral of this story: go get your work out on on machines that do the extraordinary. The more bouncy it is the better! Why not have fun while you get fit? You can get in 15 minutes of exercise while you watch the other people struggling to do lunges, push-ups, pull-ups, and crunches. You can laugh at their boring routine while you bounce away (or you can just focus on "Surf's Up" that is playing on the little T.V. in front of you. All is well).

Stay fit and have fun!

A: Apple Cinnamon Surprise

Apple cinnamon tea

You probably think this is going to be me ranting about tea. Well, you are all so wrong. So wrong.

My first letter sounds pretty stupid, right? Apple cinnamon tea? Really? That's so boring. First of all, that tea was super delicious and second of all, there is more to the story than that hot liquid in a cup. If you all really want to know what's up, then let me place you in my shoes that I was wearing from 2:00 PM-3:15 PM.

My English class was finally over after a long talk about picking research paper topics. My stomach growled the whole time and it still rumbled as I walked to the building across from the one I was already in. Since my lunch hours are screwed up, I quickly went upstairs to the dining hall to grab some grub. After satisfying my hunger, I grabbed some tea to go with my light reading about Greek Legends (that's sarcasm). That warm tea was the highlight of my afternoon as I scanned my textbook until the lines went blurry. Reading 30 pages can eventually make your eyes tired and the tea really didn't help.
 I could have climbed onto the table to sleep, but of course I wouldn't do that because that's nasty.

In my relaxed state, I was hypnotized by the snow falling behind the window. If someone was singing a lullaby in my ear at that very moment, then I think I would have completely zonked out. Now, my whole body was relaxing from all of this. Let me say that again -- my WHOLE body. The smallest areas of my body were relaxing without my control. I knew I had set myself up after eating corned beef and cabbage two days in a row before coming back to school. As I relaxed, so did my lower track and out came the cabbage's revenge. Thankfully it was not a loud, bubbling fart that could be heard from a few feet away. But wait. If it was not a loud one, then it can only be named as one other thing...SILENT, BUT DEADLY. Not even a mouse could hear this fart of mine, but I'm sure the smell could kill it instantly. I still sat there, trying to look like nothing  happened even when the smell of my own gas filled my nose. I just took that cup of tea and sipped away! Now that is the most classiest way to pretend like you didn't eat half of a cabbage in 2 days!

I let out a couple more farts as I sat there. I thought that what I was doing was totally fine since everyone at the table to my right was sitting at the very end of it. I felt no shame until one of the guys sitting at that table got up and walked right into my gas plume. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't stopped right in it as he finished saying something to his friend. I felt bad for his nose, but there was nothing I could do. Cabbage may smell delicious when cooked, but its aroma after being digested doesn't quite smell the same.

After the guy finally walked away, I finished my tea and headed out the doors. I could have felt like the victim, the gross, young lady who has a sensitive tummy, but I put all of the blame on St. Patrick's Day! Curse you, you succulent meal that I hadn't had in years! Still, I am not ashamed, but I do wish I wasn't so gassy. And that's the truth.


I hope you all had a happy cabbage revenge day!

Stay tuned for the next letter!

B!

*Wink picture from tumblr.com. Tea is my picture!*

New Theme!

Okay, so, remember what I said on my last post?

"Maybe I will even start a new "Quirky Collegeboundlady" theme to kick off this achievement! If anyone has any ideas, then let me know. If not, then be prepared for something...interesting."

I didn't think about a theme too much while I slept last night, but during this lovely morning, I think I may have come up with something. It may seem very child-like, but I can assure you that I can put a twist on it. My first major theme was the quirks, but those kind of died out like the Jonas Brothers did. SO, here's to a whole new plan! I hope it strikes all of your fancies.

My new "Quirks of a Collegeboundlady" theme is...

A-Z!

You have heard correctly! A-Z! What does this mean, you ask? Well, every day (that's my goal) I am going to pick something relevant that starts with all of the letters of the alphabet. Possibly starting today or tomorrow, I will post the letter A and talk all about it. For 26 glorious days I will fill your lives with silly stories and hoopla because who doesn't like hoopla? These letters may or may not have anything to do with college, but probably 50-ish% of them will relate since I spend 95% of my life here on campus. I'll try to make them all as exciting as possible since my life isn't T.V. material. If "MTV" or "The Today Show" talked about me, then I think I'd loose viewers quicker than the "Disney Channel" when all of the viewers turn 16.



Anyway, who's ready for some hoopla!? I now declare that A-Z will be the new theme for 26 days! Hoorah! Hoorah! Join me every other day for a new post in alphabetical order! Classy.

http://www.funnyjunk.com/funny_pictures/488317/Hoopla/

1000+

We broke 1000 views everyone!

I just want to thank all of my readers for being there to get me through my blogging experience! I could not keep going without you! Even when it seems like your clicks and scrolls have minimal impact, they actually leave a huge impact on me! I smile every time I see a hit on a post because I know that my voice is being heard. You guys motivate me so much to keep posting and I will not stop. Ever. So, keep looking out for new posts! Maybe I will even start a new "Quirky Collegeboundlady" theme to kick off this achievement! If anyone has any ideas, then let me know. If not, then be prepared for something...interesting.

Never stop reading blogs because there is so much talent out there in the internet world. We all have a voice that we express in different ways and the internet is a good start to showcase it. Keep supporting all of those voices because if you were me, then wouldn't you feel the same? Plus, reading is good for 'ya and you never know what your little peepers will run into. Writing and reading are just mysterious little actions, aren't they?

Have a great week!

Love,

Tiffany


*Pictures from Tumblr.com. I don't own them*

Haircut

Being a college students means that your $30.00 has to go toward other important things such as groceries. This lack of money for other indulgences means that you will have a lack of freedom to do things other people are able to do such as going to the movies, shopping, getting dinner, or getting a haircut. Usually I find a way to get money to make life a little more fun, but I usually never save money to get haircuts and trims. You probably think my hair is past my feet by now, but if you look closely at my profile picture to your left, you will see that my hair is long, but not crazy long. Good thing, right? Wouldn't it be weird if I could wrap myself in my hair? I couldn't handle it either.

She looks peaceful, doesn't she? 

But I would never do this.

Over the years, I have experimented with my hair by trimming off some ends, cutting blunt bangs, and cutting it short. After a while, my hair starts to bug me in some way, the ends look dried out, the length looks long and ugly. So, I get really ambitious. First, I tuck the ends of my hair behind my shoulders to see what it would look like short. Then, the image nags at me day after day and I get ambitious enough to grab a pair of scissors and snip, snip, snip 6 inches of hair off. Over the past couple of months, I thought about having short hair again. I wanted to grow my hair out, but it was taking over my face. Today, I couldn't stop tucking back my hair and imagining myself with it short. So, I went into my mom's bathroom, grabbed her shears, and cut it off. My hair used to be down to my chest and now it's just a tad bit below my shoulders. It feels like a breath of fresh air. Did those 6 inches weigh 10 pounds or something? Seriously. 

My hair before I cut it...                                                           My hair after I cut it....

Such heavy ends!                                                                     Ahh! Light as a feather!

                 

I had to send a picture of my new 'do' to about 4 people just to make sure I didn't look like a child. That's the thing about having short hair sometimes -- it changes your age which can be a good or bad thing.  I always thought that short hair on adults was very sophisticated. Hopefully my cutting job looks as sophisticated as I make it out to be. It's not high class or professional, but it did the job. Yes, one side is a LITTLE shorter than the other and the ends are the traditional "looks-like-you-just-got-a-haircut" style. Come on, give me some slack. It actually looks decent. Plus, it will grow out, people! At least I didn't use a bowl and kitchen scissors to do it or a sword. I'm not as ambitious as Mulan.   

Yeah, not that talented. 

Sometimes, I use these scissors I used in elementary school. They all work the same. 

But a sword? I don't even own one. 

This does seem very enticing to try, but I warn you all before you do. Just make sure you are 100% positive that you want to cut your hair or else you will probably faint at the results. If you can, use real shears and possibly a spray bottle with water. I usually cut my hair dry, but I know that your hair should be damp first. What can I say? I'm ridiculous. It's nothing that a hair tie and bobby pins can't fix though. We're all good. However, if you have the money to get it done professionally, then go do it. If you want to save money and are crazy like me, then there is no shame in cutting your own hair. No one has to know. 

                             

Not one person has to know at all.

No one.

*Pictures from Bing.com (and the feather one I made myself).*

Choosing a Purpose

We are all trying to live: trying to find purpose in life so we can be happy. The world has given us many options to choose from:

Parties
Drinking
Sex
Drugs
Violence
Cheating
Gambling
Pornography
Stealing
Spending a lot of money

Have we been given good options?

These things can give us enjoyment, but it does not last. The guilt, anger, disappointment, or sadness leave us empty and we just keep going back to these options to feel filled again. Over and over, we indulge in emptiness and feel the same way afterward. Are these the only choices we have? Will we ever feel satisfied?

If you are questioning, then take a look at this video.
http://fallingplates.com/

This world was created to be perfect. In this perfection, we were created to enjoy the creations made by God. However, temptation lurked among us and we fell to its power. The world was destroyed. Today, we live among corruption and temptation still. God says that this world is not our home and this is why. He did not make it perfect for no reason -- He did not intend for us to live in destruction. Heaven is our home because it is not tainted with sin that has destroyed us. Since we cannot get there yet, we must live on this planet until our day comes. How can we feel satisfied when all we have are things that hurt us? God did not want to hurt us, so He gave us Jesus to save us from our sin that causes us to feel guilty, angry, disappointed, or sad. God loves us and he keeps this promise by letting us receive Jesus into our lives. By accepting His son, we can be full, relieved, joyful, and humble. Jesus pulls us out of the never-ending cycle this world puts us in and places us in a free land that is safe.

Even with Jesus in our lives, we will still be tempted. Sin will always be around us, but in 1 Corinthians 10:13 Paul writes,
"13 No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." 
God will not let us be tempted more than we can handle because he does not want us to hurt. He knows that temptation can be strong, but even when we have been captured by it we have been given a way out. In this out, we are given everlasting life and with everlasting life we don't have to feel guilty, angry, disappointed, or sad. God believes that we have the ability to get closer to him through his son and this promise will never be broken. As long as we accept these things, we can find purpose in our lives.

Which would you choose?


Parties
Drinking
Sex
Drugs
Violence
Cheating
Gambling
Pornography
Stealing
Spending a lot of money

Or God?

A Beautiful Lie

I had to write a short story for a writing assignment in my Women's Studies class. We learned about Zitkala-Sa, who was a Dakota Sioux, that left her tribe to go to a school that tried to teach the Native Americans Anglo-American ways. My assignment was to write a short story in the perspective of another child that also boarded the train with Zitkala-Sa. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do!

A Beautiful Lie

The train was coming slowly down to the station, squealing like the voices of the little girls who were anxious to start their journey towards the land of red apples. Black smoke filled the sky as it came to a stop, hiding the faces of our mothers who stood close by ready to hug us goodbye. I felt my mother squeeze my shoulders over the thick blanket that was wrapped around me as the white man yelled at us to start getting on the train. As the smoke cleared the land, I saw my mother’s face that was dampened with fresh tears, her eyes shining like the moon. I quickly embraced her, telling her I loved her as she stroked my long, black hair. The white man pulled me gently by the arm and told my mother that I had to leave now. Tears never stopped rolling down her wrinkled cheeks as I got farther away from her. From the train window, I spotted my mother who was being embraced by the other women of our tribe. I fell back in my seat after the train jerked its way forward, leaving my mother, my tribe, and my land behind.
There were at least twenty girls sitting in the car with me -- some were five and even fifteen-years old. The younger girls were comparing their clothes and moccasins with one another, pointing out their favorite beads and laughing. The older girls sat quietly in their seat, playing with the loose strands on their blankets. I thought that they must miss their mothers as much as I, so I sat in silence too, playing with my blanket until I started to get tired. It was hard to keep my eyes closed for a minute because the ride felt like traveling by horseback over the rolling hills. Every bump and rattle shook me awake and sometimes I thought I was back home until I remembered I was leaving it. The girls and I traded spots with each other often to stretch out our legs and sore bottoms. I found myself next to one of the older girls who had not spoken a word the whole time. As I was adjusting myself, she said hello to me and I returned the greeting. I smiled wholeheartedly toward her then began to cry. The girl gently pulled my face onto her chest and I cried softly as she stroked my hair like my mother.
For seven days I sat on the train, weeped, and was soothed by those around me. Home seemed to be a broken word as the train stopped close by the school that we, girls, would be sheltered by for three years. Smoke clouded our paths once again while we made our ways toward the big building where other Native children were. We all walked in a line lead by a white lady who wore a heavy dress and hat. Pulling my blanket tighter around me, I felt the snow under my feet caress my soles. I kept my head down low while the line moved quickly up the path. We all rushed through the doors of the school, becoming silent as we took in the surroundings, our chattering teeth was the only sound. The lady took us into a room full of tables and told us to sit down. I looked to my left and to my right. All of the girls were looking around too with confusion on their faces and fear. A few more white women came into the room we were in, their dresses dragging on the ground, their hair neat on top of their heads, and they looked at us one by one. Two women walked behind us and some even touched our hair and blankets. We were then told to take our blankets off and place them on the table. The women took the blankets and walked out of the room. I heard a little girl start crying, asking for her mother and I started to tear up as well. The women who took our blankets came back with clothes and shoes in their arms and placed them on the table. I now started to weep. I did not want to in front of the women, but I could not hold my tears back. The room was so dim that the white women did not look as pale as they were outside and I now felt a chill go past my bare arms. We were told to change into the clothes they gave us. I stared at the pile for a while, my heart pounding like thunder on a spring day, but I took the clothes and put them on. The dress and shoes felt funny to me as if I had put on another skin that did not belong to me. I wanted to rip it all to shreds.
After the women showed us our room, I sat on the bed for a long time as I played with the hem on my dress and the braids in my hair. The windows let in the light of the setting sun, turning the white blankets on the bed across from mine orange. This sunset was not as beautiful as the ones that painted the sky in my village. Pink, purple, and orange filled the sky as my tribe would come back from foraging and I would walk backwards to see it. The colors filled my soul. I felt the beautiful truth of my spirit. My spirit in this strange place I now call home has been emptied from me -- I am no longer beautiful. The sunset now is ugly and it does not belong here -- it does not belong in all of these lies. They said that this land would be better for us, but I found nothing good in it. I remember that my mother rejected my enthusiasm to come with the white men. She said that they were evil; that they wanted to take us away from our culture to make us more like them. My spirit got filled with their lies and I could not help but fall in love with them. Oh, how could I make such a mistake? The older girl I sat with on the train came into my bed in the night to soothe me as I slept. She was cold and her heartbeat felt like it was not there. We held each other close, trying to find the comfort that we lost. I started shaking my head, saying, “We do not belong here.” I heard her whisper in my ear, telling me that we do not.
The next day, I heard that Zitkala-Sa ran away from the women to hide from their scissors, but her hair still got cut. My braids were still long, but the girls I traveled with had their hair shingled already. My heart became so heavy that I felt I could not stand any longer. Gripping my braids tight, I searched for a way out of this like Zitkala-Sa, but I knew I would be found. I remembered there was a small door on the wall by the stairs and I decided to try and hide anyway. The doorway in the eating room was clear as well as the hallway. I quietly made my way through the lines of children, stopping every few children, but when I got past the doorway a woman came down the stairs. I tried to run, but she caught me. Her grip was strong around my arm. I started to yell. “No! Let me go! Do not make me a coward!” The woman holding me called for the others as I struggled. All I could hear was the quick tapping of shoes coming toward me. Another woman held me with strong hands, telling me to stop. I caught a glimpse of a rusty pair of scissors, but then my head was pushed down. On the floor, I saw my black braids lay limp next to my shoes. As the women let me go, I fell on my knees, running my hands through my short hair. Between sobs I yelled, “Cowards!” How could they strip me of my culture like this? It is as if they collected the sunset in buckets and threw all of the colors away. The beautiful truth is now gone and all we see is a lie in front of our eyes that shine like the moon.

http://www.facstaff.bucknell.edu/gcarr/19cusww/ZS/rh.html

-I own this story. No rights for you!-

Libraries are Interesting

Do you guys want to know something?
The library is an interesting place.

Yes, they have books and those can be interesting, but that is definitely not what I'm going at. Once you walk into a library, you are in the presence of people. Yeah, just ordinary people who like to walk around shelves and shelves of books, minding their own business, entertaining their tired selves. Are these people really ordinary though? Look closer -- close enough so that you can see the loose thread wrapped around the button of their shirt. Do you see what I'm talking about now? Do you see how they are not ordinary???

I guess you could look at the other people besides the workers, but we all know why the other people are there: they are looking for books. That's not interesting, but what is interesting are the workers! Sometimes, I have to wonder their motive for wanting to be surrounded by books for the rest of their lives. I mean, heck, that's not really a bad dream to have because you would always have something to look at no matter what. The workers are always so peppy and ready to take you on a journey into the neverland of literature. AWAY! COME! JOIN ME ON THIS JOURNEY! HEREEEEE WEEEE GOO! And all of a sudden, your personal librarian-friend turns into Peter Pan with the whole green, elf-adventurer outfit on and they even start sprouting red hair from their librarian heads. It would be a bit startling, but who cares!? It's Peter Pan!

Alright. Back to reality for a moment. The workers. I know they are not all the same because you can't look at one worker and say, "Oh, she has white hair, wears long, thick skirts, and knows the dictionary by heart. Every librarian must be JUST LIKE HER!" Come on. Really? You can't do that. I'm not going to sit here and categorize them either because why would I do that? There is a great variety of people that work at libraries and I just so happen to be sitting in my school's library at the moment, watching the people who work here. There are only 2 that I want to point out because I find them very interesting.

So, to my right (about 2 o'clock) is a friendly looking man working at the reference desk. I've seen him help other students find books for whatever reason and he just loves it. He probably couldn't find more joy in anything else besides helping others. What a man. Right now he is typing something on Word very slowly and, of course, I can't read it from here, but I can see the 4 lines he has typed out already. It's so cute because he types like a seven-year old. Obviously the man is not seven though. I don't even know how old he is, but I would say he is about late 60's or early 70's. Charming old man, yes. He's got a well-groomed, wavy ring of hair around his shiny, little cranium and typical, old-age glasses that we humans usually wear when everything starts looking fuzzier than normal. With his attire, he is also wearing a crisp, white button-up shirt (CLASSY, MY MAN) and that's all I can see since his legs are hidden by the tan desk. One last thing I want to point out that is very interesting is the fact that his desk is so neat and tidy. If you stare at the surface of his desk for too long, then your eyes will be burned by the shine. I don't know what he uses, but I did see a bottle of antibacterial hand sanitizer and tissues. So, if that's what he is using, then I should start doing that to my desk at school. How clean and sanitary!

The next worker I would like to talk about is another friendly lady behind the circulation desk. Actually, I have no idea if that is where she is supposed to be, but I guess those librarians work every corner of the fortress. I think this is the first time that I've noticed this woman. I can hear her hearty laugh and it's quite comforting. She's talking to this other woman and she is very enthusiastic. I'm afraid those papers in her hand will slip and fly all over the place if she keeps flinging her hands around. Oh, now she's pretending she is talking on the phone with her hand. See what I mean? These people are interesting. I'm not judging these people either. I just like observing -- people watching. I do like her sweater, however. It's a great shade of green and they accent her glasses perfectly. She reminds me of a silly aunt Peggy or something. Which is a good thing because silly aunts are always the life of the party.

Okay, I know I went into a lot of detail about these two strangers, but can you really call "people watching" a crime? I may look extremely weird looking back and forth at these two people, but this is what writers do. Writers just stare at other people because it's the most interesting thing to do. If writers did not observe their surroundings, then their writing wouldn't be very good. You know, not very detailed and kind of vague. HOWEVER, if you do choose to NOT look at people, then that's alright! I'm sure that writing would be very unique. Seriously :)

So, you should all go to the library more often. You could check out books if you really want to, but watching the people that are there makes the whole trip worth something more. I would advise you all not to permanently fix your gaze upon whoever you are observing because that's...not...the best idea. I wouldn't want someone constantly looking at me either. Be nonchalant.

Well, I'm off to surrender my self to a 75 minute lecture about Classical Mythology taught by a 75 inch lady. Just kidding. She isn't that short, but she's not tall..

Happy Monday!
GO TO THE LIBRARY FOR ONCE!

-Tiffany


*Pictures are from Bing.com! I do not own them or have any right to them whatsoever!*