Just Because I'm Proud of this Accomplishment...

For my technical writing class, we were required to write a technical description. For those that may be unsure, that means I get to pick an object and describe its different parts and how they all work together. After a little bit of internal turmoil and struggle, I decided to choose something that I knew I could describe pretty well. An acoustic guitar. I've literally grown up surrounded by acoustic guitars. I own one. I think I can handle it. However...I have never really done any technical writing before. I'm more of a creative writer. However, as I'm a perfectionist and like to get good grades, I figured: "Hey, what the heck. Let's give it a shot."

After much editing and stressing, I finally pulled together a technical description that I am very pleased with. It's definitely not bad for a first attempt.

However, the thing I'm most proud of with this project is the visual aid that I put together for it. I couldn't find one diagram of a guitar that I liked, soooo...I made my own. That's right. The labels are mine and everything! Three cheers for me!

Anyway, here is the final product for those that are interested:

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Definition of the Acoustic Guitar:
An acoustic guitar is a stringed instrument that is played by pressing the fingers down on strings that are stretched across a fingerboard. The other hand strums or picks the strings near the sound hole of the instrument. Acoustic guitars come in many shapes, sizes, and are made from a variety of different materials depending on the desired sound and the individual style of each player.

The Anatomy of an Acoustic Guitar:
Every guitar is made up of the same basic components. The body is the large, hollow section of the guitar that typically rests on a knee while being played. When strummed, guitar strings create vibrations that are then registered by the bridge. Located just below the sound hole at the front of the guitar, the bridge is where the strings are anchored. From there, vibrations are picked up by the sounding board—the flat surface on the front of the body—which then creates the acoustic guitar’s unique timbre. The music is heard through the sound hole, located in the middle of the sounding board. To make different sounds with the strings, a player places his/her fingers on the strings in varying frets on the fingerboard. The fingerboard is the flat, dark strip of wood on the front of the neck of the guitar. Frets are metal ridges set at specific intervals along the fingerboard. Depending on which notes need to be played and the desired key, players use frets as primary reference points for where to place their fingers. The player then strums the strings with the other hand near the sound hole. When the strings are in need of tuning, the player uses the tuning keys, located at the very top of the guitar’s neck, on the headstock. Tightening or loosening the tuning keys change the tone of each string to be higher or lower as needed. (See Figure 1)

Figure 1

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As I said, not bad for a first-timer, eh? It was good for me to get outside of my comfort zone for a while, I think. It's why I took this class--to expand my writing skills and stretch a few mental muscles I didn't know I had. I still have a lot of work to do here, but I think I'm off to a good start.

**SIDE NOTE: This is my 30th post! Woohoo! A big thanks to my 6 followers! You all make my blogging life so much more fun. I love you all! Also, thanks to the stragglers that pay my little blog an occasional visit here and there. You and your comments are always welcome. :) Have a nice day, everyone!**

I'm Back!...

So...I just looked at the date on my last post, and realized that I have been shamefully lacking in the regularity of my posts. For that, I apologize. I can only blame homework and the fact that I was out of town with the fam for a few days. Good times, but back to business...

Over the summer, I was just starting to discover the blogosphere. I was still looking around for blogs that I felt I could really enjoy. While looking around one blog, I found another: http://looseleafwriting.blogspot.com/ (I highly recommend it, by the way. It's truly fabulous.)

Anyway...one of Alexa's posts was talking about how her inspiration comes to her while she writes. Alexa described her "Muse", and then posed some questions at the end of the post. Specifically, she asked who we were trying to please when we were writing, and what our muse was like. Here was my response:

"I would say that I write for myself. I have to assume that no one will be reading this stuff but me, (at least in the beginning). That way I know I'm being completely honest and am open to more ideas as they come to me. My writing sucks when I let myself get distracted with questions like "What will others think about this?"

My muse only comes to me when I stop thinking so hard and let her do the writing. She's kind of a control freak but our relationship works pretty well, so who am I to try and change things?"

When I checked back a day or so later, I found this post from a guy called Lysdexicuss:

"I am back here commenting because my curiosity is piqued by Candice's description of her Muse, being a Control Freak...? See, that to me would be my Ego, not my muse... When my Ego tries to write (which doesn't happen too much anymore) everything sucks or just goes awry. My Muse is really much like your b & w photo of an 'Adoring Audience in your head', except, there are more colorful crazy b*****s than preppy dudes, and the phrase "I'm a schizophrenic and so am I" constantly loops along with my typewriter ribbon. So, my Muse is actually the opposite of a control freak, but, a faucett that gets turned on an I (my Ego) am just the poor sap who tries to catch droplets of lightning in a bottle before it all goes down the drain. CANDICE~! Please elaborate on your Muse~! She/He sounds like they'd make a great character in a story about Writers~!"

This response rather surprised me. I piqued someone's curiosity? I was somewhat flattered, especially because I was still new to the blogosphere, and finding that I could write something that got someone's attention like that made me happy. So I put a lot of thought into my response, and this is what I came up with:

"Hmmmm...how to describe my Muse...?

She really is just a little bit of a control freak, but powerless to take over and inspire me unless I step aside and allow her to.

Think about an overexcited parent watching their kid's soccer game. Their team is losing. Picture my Muse fluttering around on the sidelines, screaming advice at me and shoving the other Muses around. She's jumping up and down, getting more and more frustrated by the fact that her hands are tied tightly behind her back.

Then, when I finally relax and let her in, she's so riled up and filled with ideas, she takes absolute control of my fingers. I don't even have to think. I'm just an instrument in the very capable hands of my Muse. Everything flows naturally, and I'm always happy with the result.

My ego is what prevents me from being open to my Muse. Then, when I get my ego out of the way, my Muse doesn't just step forward to help, she jumps in with both feet, pushes me out of the way, and takes over.

I hope this cleared things up for you Lysdexicuss. I feel like I may have only made things more confusing. I'm sorry if that's the case!"

The more I think about my muse, the more I realize how accurate this description is. In the end, though, I don't think it matters what my muse's personality might be, I work well with her, and our relationship is pretty healthy.

So now I pose this question in honor of Alexa, (who is now one of my favorite bloggers):

What is your relationship like with your muse? What are her most noticeable personality traits? What is the inspiration-process like for you? Let me know, I'm very curious.

Writing Tips for the Language Challenged...

A couple of months ago I was exposed to some REALLY bad writing. The kind that gives you the impression that the person is either unintelligent or just doesn't care enough to put any effort whatsoever into what they're writing. It annoyed me so much I typed up this rant and a half to help out the people that could benefit from it.

In my two online classes this semester, there are required discussion boards where we all post replies to questions about the class readings. There are a number of people in these classes whose posts remind me of the infamous "J" from this earlier post.

In honor of those people, I have decided to repost this particular rant for your enjoyment. Anyway, if you're curious about my more grumpy, sarcastic side, here's a lovely treat for you. (No, I'm not like this all the time. Only on VERY special occasions):)
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Tonight, I witnessed a brutal slaughter...of the English language.

Now, I know that English can be pretty confusing. For example: "I before e, except after c--BUT..." or: "A, E, I, O, U,...and sometimes Y". Despite being incredibly messed up in so many ways, the English language does not deserve to be murdered. English has served the world quite well in her own way, and I believe that she should be respected.

The murderer in question, (we'll call him "J."), has NO idea whatsoever about how to put words together into an intelligible sentence. I pity anyone that has to read the complete crap that "J." haphazardly throws together in a pathetic attempt at writing. (I'm using the term "writing" very loosely here.)

Don't get me wrong, my husband and I got a good laugh about this fully grown college student's bungled, blundering babble. However, he has committed multiple crimes against the English language, and I feel that he should be held accountable in some way. So here it is:

"J", in the name of the human race, you are officially banned from ever publishing any form of written work from now until the end of time. The End.

Of course, "J." is not the only offender out there. Too many people anymore are concentrating on just about anything except their writing skills. Why is this? The two most important things a person can learn in school is reading and writing. Or at least it used to be that way.

I doubt that the general American public reads all that much these days unless they have to, and what in the world has happened to our writing? I guess most people don't consider the ability to write skillfully as being all that important. Well, it is important, IT IS!!!

For those of you that want to fix this disturbing trend of crappy writing, here are a few things that you should know:

1) It's okay to proofread and revise your work. I promise I won't mind, neither will anyone else that has to read the finished product.

2) Commas are important. They're not just there for decoration, they actually serve a purpose.

3) LEARN THE FREAKING DIFFERENCE BETWEEN "THEN" AND "THAN"!!!!! Please, you're embarrassing yourself and the rest of the human race when you confuse the two. If you can't write better THAN a monkey, THEN you should quit altogether.

4) The first word of a new sentence should be capitalized. Every time.

5) You are allowed to make your sentences shorter. You know that single, rambling sentence that goes on long enough to be its own paragraph? Feel free to break it up with a period or two--within reason, of course.

6) Two words: SPELL CHECK!!! Use a dictionary or Google if you must, you'll be doing us all a HUGE favor.

7) Look at your sentences and paragraphs. Is there anything in there that's unnecessary? If so, take it out. The "fluff" doesn't have to be there, get to the point.

8) Be careful about repeats. Make sure that certain words aren't used more than once in a single paragraph unless it is absolutely necessary. (Words like "the" and "and" don't count on this one.)

These rules represent a mere fraction of the common sense guidelines that should be followed when people are writing for any purpose. No need to thank me, I'm pretty generous when it comes to correcting the faults of others...

...But you're welcome anyway.

The Battle of the Century...(Or at least the Summer).

A couple of weeks ago, we went out to dinner as a family. As would be expected in many restaurants, there were coasters on the table. However, Tyler and I decided that we didn't really want or need coasters that night. We needed pucks for a game of "Dinner Table Air-Hockey".

For those of you that are unfamiliar with this game don't feel bad, it's not even in the Olympics yet. Anyways, allow me to enlighten you. Basically, the goal is to get the puck (coaster) past your opponent's defenses as many times as possible. The first person to seven points wins.
I have to say, I was doing quite well. I shut Tyler out on the first two games, but then he started gaining momentum and won the next two. It was the tie-breaker round, and I began battling even more fiercely for the title. The score was so close, it was anybody's game, and then...

Apparently Tyler's glass was a smidge too close to the edge of the table, and what with the battle raging back and forth...well, let's just say there was a bit of a mishap. I had one of those slow-motion moments as I watched that glass fall to the floor, splashing ice and water all over the carpet next to our table.
Luckily, the guy they sent to clean up the mess was perfectly amiable (at least on the surface, you can never tell what those guys are really thinking). He cleared up the icy mess and left us to ourselves.
Well, we couldn't very well leave the game unresolved, so we continued the battle until there was a winner. I have to be honest: Tyler won fair and square. He's a worthy opponent, I'll give him that.

Be honest now, what sounds more appealing to you? A calm dinner with your family, or an epic coaster battle to end all coaster battles? I think we all know my answer!

The Stuff of Legend? Yep. That's me!

I have decided to take another trip down memory lane...

I have never made any secret of the fact that I'm one of the most uncoordinated people alive. The number of sprains, bumps, bruises, stitches, and broken toes would pretty much take me a week to relate in writing.(Although that could be a fun project...)


Anyway, instead of going through the gruelling horror show that is my list of injuries and overall clutziness, I will only tell of one series of injuries in particular...

My first ever broken bone was my ankle. I was twelve, and in the 7th grade. On that fateful day, I was in gym class, playing soccer out on their death trap of a playing field. By "death trap," I mean that there were multiple divots and pot-holes in the ground that were hidden by grass. I'd rolled my ankles on multiple occasions, but not so spectacularly as on that memorable day...

It was cloudy outside, but not cold. I was assigned to play a defensive position, therefore I was stuck on my side of the playing field. The other team's offense pretty much sucked, so all the action was taking place at their end of the field. Growing bored, my fellow defensive players and I started messing around. You know, doing cartwheels, jumping around, the usual stuff.


Predictably, during one of these outbursts of jumping, my foot landed in one of the killer grass-hidden divots and my ankle rolled, making an impressive crackling sound. Hoping it was just a sprain, I walked on it for about a week before asking to be taken to the doctor. The bone was fractured, and they put me in a brace.

After the required number of weeks, I was all healed up, and the brace was taken off. But...one day, jumping around in my room, dancing to music, (yes, I jumped around a lot, don't judge!), I rolled that same ankle and RE-BROKE IT! Of course, this just had to happen the day before summer vacation started. It sucked.

Anyway, let's jump forward to two years later. I was 14, in 9th grade, and...you guessed it, in gym class again. Anyway, there was a dance portion that we all had to participate in. We learned such basic dances as the Fox Trot, Waltz, the Bunny Hop, and various line dances. At the end of this learning experience, there was an exam day, when we were tested and graded according to our mad dancing skills.

On the day in question, I was doing pretty well. I could keep up with the rhythm and remembered all of the steps to the different dances. Then came the final test for the day...The Bunny Hop. We were split up into different groups, formed lines, and were required to Bunny Hop until the song ended. Things were going fine. My friend and I were in the same line, and having fun.

Then a group of boys thought it would be SOOO funny to intentionally crash into our line, breaking right through us. In my mad scramble to catch up to my group, I twisted my ankle (the opposite from the one I'd already broken twice). There was a horrible cracking sound, and I was in excruciating pain. I tried to dance it off, but it only got worse. I flagged down my teacher, and with my friend she helped get me off the dance floor and into a seat.

Taking off my shoe, we saw that the ankle was swelling impressively, and my teacher got me some ice to put on it. Since the injury wasn't getting any better, I hobbled to the main office and called my mom, who promptly picked me up. After a couple of days, the pain wasn't getting any better, so I went to the doctor and...(fanfare please)...it was broken. I was in a boot for a majority of that school year.

A couple of years later, I was in high school, and my little sister was in Junior High. One day she comes home, and relates to us a story about her day in gym class. They had started on the dance portion of that year's curriculum, and were about to learn the Bunny Hop.

The teacher, while talking about the Hop, said: "Now, you all need to be careful when you're learning the Bunny Hop. We actually had a girl break her ankle while doing this a few years ago." My sister promptly volunteered the fact that her sister--me--was the clutz in question.

That's right, my crippling clutziness made me a freaking legend! At least my talents aren't being wasted...