"Occupy" -ing becoming annoying

Okay, it's a soapbox moment, but I promise it will be short.

I am currently sitting in the lobby of my dorm, watching a major news network report on the "Occupy - 'wherever we can get the most attention' Movement."  I'll just put my cards on the table:  I'm not a big fan of protests.  The event in of itself accomplishes nothing except make our police forces (who put their lives on the line daily for our protection) look abusive and uncaring and they waste our tax dollars in the process. 

That said, I'm going to give a piece of advice to those protesting:  stop until you're an expert in what you're protesting against.  A grand majority of those involved in these activities know next to nothing about what they are opposing.  They protest what they do not understand.  They replace knowledge and intellect with passion which makes for a great show, but does not help in interviews that are broadcast on national television.  At that point, you just look like, and pardon my french, an idiot (rather, pardon my Greek; as the word 'idiot' came from the Athenian term idiote, a moniker given to citizens that did not vote.  Sorry about that, it comes with being a history teacher.).  So, "Occupy" protesters, get off the streets and study the system that you protest; you might learn something.  *step off soapbox*

P.S.:  The whole premise of the protest is greed, right?  They are protesting the fact that other people have more money than they do and that it isn't fair.  So, in my estimation, the "Occupy"-ers are angry with the amount of money that the corporate executives have and they (the protesters) want a piece of that money.  Isn't that, by definition, what greed is?  Actually that covers two sins: coveting and greed.  They want what someone else has, and what they have isn't enough.  So you see, the protesters are just as fallen as the people they are accusing.

What do sunglasses have against me, anyway?

Today is a sad day.

My cheapo Walmart sunglasses lasted a whole two weeks before their tragic death. Farewell, good Foster Grants; I knew thee well for the time we spent together.  How did they die, you ask?  Were they dropped?  Did they crack under the stresses of unwarranted abuse?  Did a meteorite slingshot around Mars and tumble to earth at such a trajectory that they obliterated them?  Did a duck steal them?   The answer to all of the previous questions is no.  So you really want to know, eh?  All right, prepare yourself....

I put them on top of my head.

That's it.  That's all I did.  I shifted them up so I could see inside a building, and when I brought them back down, they disintegrated.  They broke by doing something that sunglasses should do on an everyday basis.  Not once did I drop them, sit on them, or abuse them in any way.  In fact, I took special care to make sure that they did not fall into the fates previously described.  Normally, people would say, "It's no big deal, just go get a new pair."  However, there is more to this story than just one pair of sunglasses.  Every year for the past 5-10 years, I have had to buy a new pair of sunglasses at least once over the course of said years.  But it's not the buying that's the problem; it's why I have to buy them in the first place.  Now that said, I do not just throw around sunglasses willy-nilly and leave them in backpacks to be jostled around with much heavier things.  It's always something dumb.  It's like they all have a meeting and discuss ways to elude me or force me to buy another one of their friends.  What did I do to them?  Why can't I hold onto a pair for more than a year at a time?  The world may never know.

Once more into the breach...

I feel that this famous Shakespearean line does well in summing up the quickly approaching school year; at least for me.  With this semester, I enter into my final semester of "real classes" and, pending the passage of the Praxis that I took this morning, student teaching in the spring.  After that, the real world.  Yikes.

Though it's my last year of college, I find myself in the middle of a bunch of firsts.  For the first time ever, I'll be attending the same school as my sister, who is an incoming freshman at SBU.  It's mind boggling to me that   my sister is grown up enough to be a college student.  In my mind, she's still supposed to be yea tall and in the sixth grade.  She's super excited about it and I'm glad to be there as her "guardian brother" as my mom likes to put it.  It's also the first time that I won't have my brother as a roommate, and the first time he won't be going to school with me.  Sad day.  Now I know people like to insert the "twin" lines and ask if we can read each other's minds and stuff, but it's more than that.  He's more than my brother; he's my best friend in the world, and I'll miss him as much as anybody (even when he played the same guitar riff over and over...).

I have to say that I've thoroughly enjoyed my college experience, with the help of friends that I've made over the years that I've been in school, especially at SBU (Yes, it's taken more than five, thanks to a Major change. A point that my graduated brother likes to emphasize occasionally).  From the pick up games in the gym to the memorable concerts to the late night runs to Burger King, thank you.  To my classmates, hallmates, and Chorale friends; it would have been impossible to do without you all, and I thank God every day for the impact that you've made on my life.  I only hope that I've blessed you half as much as you've blessed me.

So, Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up...um...with our...uh...English dead.  I think this video sums it up better.