In forty years, looking back and telling my grandchildren what I did when I was there age, a prominent theme will be vampires and other mystical beings. Our generation is going to be known for this obsession because of all the movies, television shows, and books were popular during this time revolved around this theme. I feel that the reason that our generation has this interest in the creatures is due to the fact that our generation wants a love that never dies because we see so many divorces going on around us, and the creatures can give us that. So on Thursday November 15th, 2012; just like most girls my age I waited in line to see the premiere of the final installment of the Twilight Saga, Breaking Dawn Part II.
My friends and I had pre-ordered our tickets and had a countdown going because we could not wait. When arrived we had to wait in line for out theater to be called because if everyone went in at once someone would have gotten hurt. On our way to the back of the line we had to walk around to the back of the building because the line was so long. When our theater was finally called after about a half hour of waiting, we ran to the theater and even when we came so early, all five of us could not get seats together and we had to break up. Once all of the super long commercials and previews were over, the wait was finally over and the whole theater cheered. This is what we have been waiting four books, five years, and five movies later the Saga was finally coming to an end and we were going to be watching the happily ever after unfold.
As the movie started to play I realized that this last movie was better than all of the other movies combined. The movie had followed the book very closely up until the last thirty minutes where the producers and the writer changed the ending. At first I was really upset that they changed the ending because I am a firm believer in that movie producers are given the rights to make the movie just like the book and are not given the right to change it around. For this movie it really did work though. The last thirty minutes were so good that the whole theater was in an uproar, going through an emotional rollercoaster. I cannot wait until the next time I see this movie because I feel that it is only going to get better and better the more times that I see it.

(11/21/12)

Back in October, I wrote about how I was going to see the Dracula ballet. Despite that a few weeks have passed since I saw the ballet, the show is still fresh in my mind; I couldn’t possibly forget all the confusion I suffered from while watching the performance.

It was a Wednesday night and, being the commuter I am, I drove over to Stockton and arrived with only about five minutes to spare before the show began. I parked my car, killed the engine, and hurried to the PAC, optimistic about seeing my first ballet. In all honesty, I felt pretty classy going to see a ballet, even though we don’t live in the seventeenth century anymore. As I entered the PAC, a woman tore my ticket and told me which row my seat was in. It just so happened that I actually had a pretty good seat, that is, if there wasn’t a group of chatterboxes sitting next to me. However, at this point in time, I had no idea how bothersome these forty year old women were going to be.

Just as I sat down, the lights dimmed and a dark, instrumental piece began to play as fog began to creep across the stage. The atmosphere the stage crew set was great. The curtains opened and revealed a man in a vest in front of a backdrop of a desert scene. I was already lost in what was going on. More dancers pranced onto the stage, leaping, twirling, and running in circles as they moved rhythmically to the music. During the whole play, the choreography was simply stunning and I deeply respect those men and women who are so graceful and fluid with their movements, especially in front of a large audience.

As the ballet progressed, my hopes of hearing some voiceover, or some sort of singing, or anything at all that would help me understand the storyline, had swiftly diminished. I was so lost in what was going on in the play that I developed a headache, which doesn’t happen too often. On top of that, the three women who sat to my right wouldn’t stop commenting on the tiny mistakes the dancers had made. Their snarky remarks about how their daughters could do better was starting to make me sick. I was impressed by the array of dancing that was happening on stage, the people behind me were impressed, as were the people in front of me. What made them think it was so bad? The girls who sat to my left were well-behaved, but they were honors students of course. It was painful, in a way, to see the eighteen year old girls to my left act more mature than the forty year old women to my right.

Right as I was about to leave, the ballet took a ten minute break for intermission. I took this time to read the program that I was given when I walked into the PAC. In retrospect, reading this first would have helped me far more than anyone could imagine. I read about what happened and what was going to happen after intermission, which made things a whole lot easier for me once the ballet started again. While the program helped me understand some of what was going on, a lot of it was still fuzzy. After about an hour, the ballet had ended and I left the PAC utterly confused as to what I had just watched. As I said before, the choreography was beautiful and I really enjoyed that aspect, but from a storyline standpoint, it was completely incomprehensible. I’m not sure if I would go and see another ballet, since this one was hard to follow, but I wouldn’t mind seeing a ballet without a plot.

(10/24/12)

Life has been super busy as of late. I haven’t had much time to really do anything that isn’t writing papers or dealing with personal issues, so I haven’t gotten around to doing much on campus. This upcoming Wednesday, October 24^th, I’m going to go see the Dracula play, but unfortunately my hard-copy of this blog is due Wednesday, so I can’t really write about something that hasn’t happened yet. With the little free time I have anymore, I have missed the past four meetings of my club due to conjunctivitis, a partner project I had to work on, my father’s birthday, and simply being too stressed out to want to do anything. I hope things start to get less busy for me soon, that way my mental health can increase and I can get back to doing things I want to do instead of things I have to do. Anyways, this blog isn’t about me complaining, this blog is about the blood drive I helped out at back in September.

Previously, I wrote about going to the Get Involved Fair, which I actually attended while I was on my way to the blood drive. After stopping by the fair, I was on my way to Big Blue to go assist at the blood drive. Upon my arrival to the gymnasium, I noticed that there were probably about four or five other Honors students already helping out. I approached them and asked if there was anything I could do to help out and they told me to talk to a woman who was walking around and making sure everything was running smoothly. As they told me this, the woman walked over to check on them and I took the opportunity to ask her if there was anything I could do to help out. Much to my dismay, the woman told me kindly that they already had more aides than they needed, but she sent me over to the snack table anyway where two other Honors students were stationed.

As I approached the refreshment table, I was instructed by an older man, whose name I didn’t catch, to make sure those who had their blood taken came to the table and grabbed something to eat and drink. Practically everyone who got their blood taken knew this without needing the other Honors students or me to tell them what to do, so it was a pretty boring job, to be honest. However, I actually assisted a girl over to a cot when she said she felt lightheaded. I didn’t do anything besides stand there to make sure she was okay. The older man sat with her and talked to her to make sure she didn’t pass out and there was not really much I could do, so I went back over to the table and replenished some snacks and waters to make the table look more appealing. Other than that, I just stood behind the table and made small talk with those who sat on the chair that was opposite the table from me and made sure that they were okay, seeing as there was nothing for me to really do.

All in all, it was an interesting experience despite having so much downtime. When I wasn’t restocking the tables or making sure people were eating snacks and drinking water, I watched the nurses draw blood from those who donated and wished I was capable of donating blood to save a life. It’s amazing to see how many people are willing to help save other people’s lives, even if they’re doing something as simple as donating blood. Someday, I might be able to help people and save lives, though my mind changes weekly about what I want to study in college, and I’ll feel as good about myself as all those people who donated blood did.

I was three years old when I first stepped into the mirror-surrounding walls of a dance studio. After this moment, dance slowly became my life. By the
time I was thirteen years old, I was in the studio six out of seven days a
week, eating my dinner in the waiting room between classes, and doing my
homework on the benches outside. I thrived on being onstage; I lived for the
glitter and glam. I was obsessed with rhinestones and the loud music that would
play as I performed. Throughout the course of my dance career, I took lessons
in tap, jazz, lyrical, ballet, musical theater, pointe, and acrobatics. My
dream when I was a young girl was to become a professional dancer when I grew
up. I loved everything about the life of a dancer.

It is hard to believe that Dracula, performed at Stockton College on October 24,
2012, was the first ballet that I have ever attended. Dracula was a performance
executed by the Atlantic City Ballet. The Atlantic City Ballet Company is made
up of dancers from nine different countries across the world.  One of the things that I found particularly exciting about Dracula was the fact that I knew what all of the dance moves were called that they were doing throughout the play. I knew when they had made a mistake or when their performance was absolutely beautiful. If I hadn’t been a dancer for
ten years, I would not have been able to pick up on such minute things like
these.

What was so different about this experience for me was that the entire story was told through dance and not a single word was spoken. I am used to watching television or musicals where the changes in intonation of the actors indicate the moods and feelings
of the actors in the story. Being that I do not know the story of Dracula, the
fact that it was being told without words made it that much more difficult for
me to understand the plotline. If I had known the story of Dracula like I know
Cinderella, or the Little Mermaid, I would have probably gotten even more out
of it than I did.

The majority of the dancing was spectacular, especially by the lead women in the show. They made every movement look so simple and so graceful, which is awe-inspiring considering I personally know how difficult those moves actually are. There were a few
points in the show where I noticed that the dancers weren’t synchronized with
each other. Most of the time, this occurred when the younger dancers were
performing.

As much as I wanted to see a beautifully executed ballet with flawless dancers with years of
experience when I was watching Dracula, I was very pleased to see that they
incorporated their younger dancers in the performance. I was a younger,
inexperienced dancer at one point, and I would have loved to have been given an
opportunity to dance in the same production with people as experienced as these
dancers.

I am very glad that I went to see this ballet because it brought back a lot of memories from my dance past. Seeing things like this makes me miss dance because I loved it so much.
However, I have moved on and I couldn’t be happier in the place that I am in
now. As much as I would love to go back to dance, I think it’s best for me to
keep it in my memories, and continue to move forward with my life.

In October of 2012, Hurricane Sandy left its mark on the New Jersey shore. While some were left unharmed and unaffected by the storm’s wrath, others faced great devastation. Lives were lost, attractions and homes were destroyed, and many were forced to put back together the broken pieces of their lives.

As a member of Water Watch, I often participate along with other members in volunteer activities based in working toward a healthier environment. With the occurrence of the storm, we all knew that there had to be something we could do to help. We found out about Operation Blessing, an organization involved with helping those in need, and proceeded to join in with their efforts. We discovered that a branch of the organization was being stationed in Little Egg Harbor Township and planned a trip to check things out on November 10th, 2012. Upon arriving at the branch’s base, we learned that there were numerous volunteers working together to help those who had been impacted greatly by the hurricane. The volunteers were collecting and distributing food, water, clothing and other useful items to those who had been afflicted; however this was only a small portion of the great work being done. The volunteers were traveling to destroyed homes to sort through the belongings of homeowners, remove damaged articles, and even remove structural components of homes that had been ruined. They were also providing emotional support to those whose lives had been greatly disrupted by the storm. This was amazing and we knew that we had found a way by which to participate in relief following the hurricane.

After filling out paperwork and receiving shirts with the organization’s name shown, we were given our first volunteer location. As we got closer and closer to our destination, we could see the pilings of people’s things near the curb that had been destroyed in the storm. It was absolutely unbelievable the quantity and nature of the things that had been forcedly discarded from homes. Upon arriving at the first house, it was immediately obvious that the household and all that was within it had been greatly disrupted. The entire front lawn was covered in garbage bags, boxes, furniture, carpets, tiles, drywall, lighting fixtures, and plenty more. Contained within this mess was not only the sorts of things most people would have, but also unique items of sentimental value. These were items that held important memories, and now they were destroyed and having to be dragged from homes to be picked up for disposal. Upon taking my first steps into the house, I could see that the inside had been completely destroyed. The support beams and foundation were all that remained within the interior of the home. We continued with the work being done by clearing out the remaining waterlogged items. In another house, I was literally given the task to tear out walls and the insulation behind them. It felt odd to help others by taking their homes apart, but this was necessary. At both locations, we spent a significant amount of time speaking with the residents. It is impossible to express how devastated they were by the situation; however, they were also incredibly grateful for the assistance of the volunteers.

This experience really opened my eyes to how badly people were impacted by the storm and along with others I am compelled to continue providing assistance to those in need. I would strongly recommend to others that they join in on efforts to provide relief to those afflicted by Hurricane Sandy.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a part of the zombie apocalypse? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a zombie in this apocalypse? If you answered yes, I have two suggestions. One, you need to stop watching so many movies. Two, join my friends and I in participating in Stockton’s game of Humans versus Zombies.

This game, which occurs each semester and lasts for an entire week, begins with one zombie, the “original zombie” or OZ. This person wears a green headband and must try to tag other people who are playing. Everyone else starts out as a human and is allowed to carry a Nerf gun of their choosing. These people wear green armbands and must avoid being tagged by the OZ. if you are tagged, you become a zombie as well and now you must tag other humans. The game is ongoing and people must defend themselves between classes. As if this isn’t stressful enough, the humans must go out each night on missions to find “rations”, which are pieces of paper with a code on them which the human must enter online in order to “eat” and stay alive.

Throughout the week, the humans (whose numbers are constantly shrinking as more and more people are tagged and turned into zombies) must complete other missions, such as finding the pieces of a radio or assembling said radio, in order to be “saved” at the end of the week. Anyone who manages to stay human and attends all of the missions wins. There are generally less than ten winners per game. I firmly believe this is because of people like my friend Ky, who are super sneaky zombies who refuse to accept a truce. The only reason I didn’t survive this semester was because he tagged while I was going to a roller-skating event organized by the Pride Alliance. I still say I would have survived if not for him!

On Wednesday, October 17^th, Stockton’s Pride Alliance organized a trip to a roller-skating rink. I attended with my roommate, Lauree Klein, and my friend Savanna Asta. I actually had to get a ride with my friend Ky, as I had just recently become a zombie in Stockton’s Humans vs Zombies game and my roommate, who was the person originally driving me, was still human and didn’t want to have to worry about getting tagged while she was trying to focus on driving. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Ky had very good music tastes, and, like me, liked to play his music loud enough to shake the car’s frame.

As a bit of back story, the Stockton Pride Alliance is a club dedicated to helping people who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or questioning their sexuality, or for people who are LGBTQ advocates. I originally went to the first meeting because my roommate Lauree was going and CJ, my friend from high school, was on the executive board and was bugging me to join, since I had been in our high school’s gay-straight alliance with her.

Getting back to the story, I was incredibly excited to go to the rink. I hadn’t gone rollerblading for several months, and the last time I had gone had been an absolutely fantastic time. I can’t skate for my life, on ice or otherwise, but rollerblading is something I love to do. I’ve always loved how fast you can go with so little effort, and I got to hang out with some of my best friends while doing so.

Once we were there, I tried on about three different sizes of blades until I could find one that was comfortable, skated the entire night, wound up with a huge blister, met some absolutely fantastic new people, and overall had the time of my life. I would go again in a heartbeat, and I’m hoping the Pride Alliance decides to organize a trip again so I can bring more friends, which will be even better.

Coming into Stockton, one of the things I looked forward to most was getting involved in my school and pursuing my own interests. I wanted to go out and do something instead of just sitting in my dorm room working on schoolwork all day. The Get Involved fair made this very easy for me by showing me every conceivable club there was.

On the first day of the fair, September 19^th, all of the clubs were inside at tables, and it was going on from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. I enjoyed seeing all of my options laid out and meeting some of the members of different clubs. Everyone was happy to tell me about why they enjoyed the club and what activities they were involved in. Overall, it was good way to introduce the clubs, because it was not overwhelming and gave me a chance to just sort of casually browse through them as I walked to class without being asked to sign up for anything.

That being said, the second day of the fair, September 20^th, was quite a bit more fun, despite the fact that it only went from !0 a.m. to 4 p.m. For one thing, I wasn’t rushing off to class, so I had time to stop at different tables and look at what each had to offer. Also, the tables were outside and it was a beautiful day. My friends and I wandered around, getting free tattoos, food, information, and even a caricature. There were several tables that weren’t from any specific club and were simply people there who had been asked to come by the school. One of these people was doing henna tattoos, something that I have always enjoyed immensely. I wound up getting two henna tattoos, one on the inside of my left wrist (a star surrounded by a sunburst) and one on the back of my right hand (a traditional Indian hand tattoo with a palm leaf pattern).

As a whole, the fair was a great time and I signed up for several clubs’ emailing lists, such as Books Without Borders, the Math Club, and EDIBL, which is a club dedicated to finding alternative food sources, especially insects, and a club which I find endlessly fascinating.