The Handmaid's Tale: Passage Analysis (Tone, Part 15)_Entry 1_Week 27

Margaret Atwood implies that Offred, among many others under the authoritarian rule of the regime, have been brainwashed into viewing death and escape as a dangerous concept. They are made to adapt to murder and solidarity, and are to view it as an everyday thing- a normal thing. Atwood views it as repulsive, but she also refuses to believe in hope. She believes that “faith is only a word, embroidered”, and nothing more. It is just another concept.

“I consider these things idly. Each one of them seems the same size as all the other. Not one seems preferable. Fatigue is here, in my body, in my legs and eyes. That is what gets you in the end. Faith is only a word, embroidered.

… Behind me I feel her presence, my ancestress, my double, turning in midair under the chandelier, in her costume of stars and feathers, a bird stopped in flight, a woman made into an angel, waiting to be found. By me this time. How could I have believed I was alone in here? There were always two of us. Get it over, she says. I’m tired of this melodrama, I’m tired of keeping silent. There’s no one you can protect, your life has value to no one. I want it finished.”

(Page 292- 293)

The Handmaid's Tale: Passage Analysis (Part 10) _Entry 1_Week 26

            Offred, in the years previous to the new government, had experienced the changes made regarding the workforce and how paper money was transformed into the value of plastic cards and then the Compubank. The alterations were minor, and hardly noticeable, but they occurred for a certain reason. People were meant to be oblivious to the fact that the current government was slowly deteriorating, and a new authoritarian was rising up, leading civilization towards the society she is forced to live in at the present.

“All those women having jobs: hard to imagine, now, but thousands of them had jobs… It was considered the normal thing. Now it’s like remembering the paper money… You had to take those pieces of paper with you when you went shopping, though by the time I was nine or ten most people used plastic cards.  Not for the groceries though, that came later. It seems so primitive, totemistic even, like cowry shells. I must have used that kind of money myself… before everything went on the Compubank.

            I guess that’s how they were able to do it, in the way they did, all at once, without anyone knowing beforehand.”

Graduation Speech ( I am really hoping this is my last and final draft Lord help me)_Entry 2_Week 25

I tugged nervously on the sleeves of my shirt and clasped my hands behind my back. Don’t look them in the eye- just look above their heads. I struggled to remember what Mr. Burge had advised me to do when it came to public speaking. As I began my persuasive speech for my sophomore English class, I fumbled my words within the first paragraph. In my anger, I accidentally let a little too persuasive of a word roll off my tongue and into the listening ears of my classmates. Mr. Burge’s jaw hit the floor in shock, and by that point I had persuaded myself that it would be best to hide under a rock.

            The truth of the matter is, we have all made mistakes at one point or another in our life. Yet, despite our shortcomings, we were accepted. Our teachers and our school saw something special, something different, and something wonderful about each and every one of us. They saw the potential that some of us couldn’t see in ourselves, and they gave us the opportunity to be a part of one of the best educational and vocational programs in Northern Nevada.

We have worked hard to be where we are at now, and after four years, we are finally at the finish line of our high school career and the starting line of the rest of our lives. As a class, we have created community service projects, received hands- on experience through internships and job shadowing, and have competed in various organizations such as SkillsUSA, ProStart, HOSA, FFA, and NASA Rover. As individuals, we have endured thirteen years of emotional breakdowns, inadequate pencil stubs, crumpled up pieces of paper, and have struggled to stay awake long into the night just to finish an assignment.  

             We were considered to be the “different” kids- the ones who would rather repair an old bike than buy a new one; the ones who prefer to spend their Saturday night learning how to bake; the ones who were determined to change the future.  We were the kids who weren’t quite sure what we wanted to do, or if we could even do it, but we knew we wanted to do something. Something great.

            Life isn’t always going to be easy- and it never will go exactly as you planned. But that’s alright, and you’ll be alright. Just remember to always do what makes you happy. Remain different, remain curious, and the rest will fall in place.

I wish each and every one of you the best of luck. Not only are we the graduating class of 2014, but we are the kids who made it.

Moving_Entry 1_Week 25

Moving equates to:

1. Creating boxes out of cardboard by way of folding and the assistance of duct tape. Then place inanimate objects into box. You realize that you never really had any use for them in the first place, but are hopeful that perhaps in the new place you could find a use for said objects.

2. Stress. Enough said.

3. Anger. Refer back to stress.

4. Exhaustion. Refer back to boxes, stress, and anger.

After the entire moving process is finally over, you finally get to sleep in your new room. New wall placements, new window placements, new closet placement, and new hallway placement. You think you will be fine- it's nothing new that you haven't experienced before. Then once the lights are turned off, and you're snuggled under your covers, that is when you begin to notice things. Such as the shadow in the corner that looks like a monster out of the Scooby- Doo cartoons, or the sudden creaking of the wooden floor panel in the hallway. Your mind begins to play tricks on you, and you begin to wonder if your house or even the neighborhood might be haunted. You spend the half the night worrying and the other half trying to fall asleep.

As the insanely bright rays of the morning sun shine through your new and spotless windows, you realize that you have survived your first night.

And. It. Will. All. Be. Fine. From. Here. On.

P.S. I do not know how to feel about moving this upcoming weekend, considering the fact tarantulas and scorpions are going to be my nature- neighbors.

P.P.S. Call an ambulance in advance in the unlikely case I will have a heart- attack upon coming across a nature- neighbor.

Thinking_Entry 2_Week 24

I think I think too much because my thoughts tend to overwhelm me and I can't think straight. At all. I would really appreciate it if I was not one of those people that has conspiracy theories and memories and ideas and stories and images and words transmitting through electrical and chemical signals from neuron to neuron at 100,000 per second in my brain.

 It just feels like too much at times.

I hate the kind of days that feel like an eternity. They don't only look gloomy and dark, but it also feels that way. Kind of like you're in a cage that you can't escape, because the bars are invisible and there is no key to turn in the lock. But you can still feel the enclosed space. You only have so much air to breath in and breath back out through your heart and to your lungs.

I feel like a game piece that keeps receiving the wrong card, and the dice, which are my fate, are continually directing me to the wrong spot on the board. Maybe my life is another version of the Game of Thrones, minus the hatred, blood, and love affairs. I suppose I can only relate to that show in the sense that nothing works out the way it should, and everything is more complicated than it should be.

And, speaking of complicated, I would really appreciate it if certain people took the time out of their day to explain to me certain situations. For instance, more than half the time I cannot and will not understand a subtle hint. You will have to spell  things out for me if you really want me to understand the gravity of this... thing. I don't even know what to call it. Should I even consider giving it a title?

And this is why I hate days like this. I think too much for my own good.

Graduation Speech (Final Draft?)_Entry 1_Week 24

I tugged nervously on the sleeves of my shirt and clasped my hands behind my back. Don’t look them in the eye- just look above their heads. I struggled to remember what Mr. Burge had advised me to do when it came to public speaking. As I began my persuasive speech for my sophomore English class, I fumbled my words within the first paragraph. In my anger, I accidentally let a little too persuasive of a word roll off my tongue and into the listening ears of my classmates. Mr. Burge’s jaw hit the floor in shock, and by that point I had persuaded myself that it would be best to hide under a rock.

            The truth of the matter is, we have all made mistakes at one point or another in our life. Yet, despite our shortcomings, we were accepted. Our teachers and our school saw something special, something different, and something wonderful about each and every one of us. They saw the potential that some of us couldn’t see in ourselves, and they gave us the opportunity to be a part of one of the best educational programs in Northern Nevada.

We have worked hard to be where we are at now, and after four years, we are finally at the finish line of our high school career and the starting line of the rest of our lives. As a class, we have created community service projects, received hands- on experience through internships and job shadowing, and have competed in various organizations such as SkillsUSA, ProStart, HOSA, FFA, and NASA Rover. As individuals, we have endured thirteen years of emotional breakdowns, inadequate pencil stubs, crumpled up pieces of paper, and have struggled to stay awake long into the night just to finish an assignment.  

             We were considered to be the “different” kids- the ones who would rather repair an old bike than buy a new one; the ones who prefer to spend their Saturday night learning how to bake; the ones who were determined to change the future.  We were the kids who weren’t quite sure what we wanted to do, or if we could even do it, but we knew we wanted to do something. Something great.

            Life isn’t always going to be easy- and it never will go exactly as you planned. But that’s alright, and you’ll be alright. Just remember to always do what makes you happy. Remain different, remain curious, and the rest will fall in place.

I wish each and every one of you the best of luck. Not only are we the graduating class of 2014, but we are the kids who made it.