Locker sign-ups, StudCo elections, Bloody Barbeque ...

Do you realize that there are only six more days of school?

Of course, after that we have finals, but even including finals it's only 10 days total.

You stand there in your starting position with every muscle tensed in anticipation and anxiousness, your heart is pumping at a rate you hope your legs can match, your mind scampers over so many things that it soon becomes a dizzying array of thoughts, and then you start and you realize that the race is ultimately between you and time.

Someone once told me that "most people are ugly."

I found the comment ridiculously odd and inaccurate and automatically began to wonder by what standard are the majority of human beings considered ugly. Alas, I didn't say anything, but shrugged it off and directed the conversation toward a different topic.

If you cheated your way through every test, homework assignment, interview, quiz, application, and essay and became the most succesful (enter your profession of choice here) in the world, would you really have achieved anything?

For the past two weeks my blog entry has been considerably late.

I am forgetting reponsibilities that I hold within various groups and organizations.

I find it hard to remember deadlines even when I write them down.

What is happening?

I hate fat people.

OK, so I actually don't hate fat people.

But apparently three legislators do. Last month, House Bill No. 282 was introduced in Mississippi. The bill forbids food establishments to serve obese people in the state, punishing those who do with a revoked license.

One day you wake up to complete silence, and you decide to lie in your bed for five more minutes because the entire environment outside of your cover is ridiculously cold. You bundle up with the thickest layers you can manage, you forget to look at the sky because there is no sun there, and you try to stay inside as much as possible.

When it seems like you can't deal with things anymore, there is supposed to be a family member or a friend you can lean on.

With a nuclear family of six I don't usually run into any problems in that area.

However, I find it most unbelievable that when you are at your lowest point (or one of many) there is always someone else who needs to lean on you.

To advertise for the first of the two Black History Month movie nights, I put up a few signs around the school. The signs feature a painting of the four little girls who were killed in the bombing of a church in Birmingham (the focus of the movie "4 Little Girls") and some text.

The signs said:

Tolerant?

Diverse?

Accepting?

Prove It.

In the locker room after morning track practice everyone has a different routine and everyone does different things. Some people puff perfume on themselves while others slather on lotion, but I've noticed one thing that nearly everyone does. Everyone either washes her face or puts on moisturizer.

The sound of a distant saxophone echoing through the halls of time, a faint reminder that jazz is still here, but a painful signal of its past greatness and present failure.

I walk into the building, immediately surrounded by the plush comfort of a warm silence. I can smell the faint scent of unleavened bread, and it combines with the scent of a recently vacuumed carpet to become what my nose recognizes as church. The sunlight falls in shafts revealing the undisturbed dust floating in the air, and I stand face to face with the pulpit.

I love "The Boondocks," just to put it simply.

We want someone to point our finger at, for racism, for poverty, for hunger, for unnecessary war, for every problem we face today in modern-day society.

Whenever I read about a problem that we're facing one of the first things the author does is try to find someone to blame. Whenever there is a discussion about a controversial problem one of the biggest topics addressed is who's to blame.

When you think about the holidays, hopefully you can conjure up images of fireplaces, gifts, family, food, and whatever warm traditions your family holds for the holidays.