Monday, December 24, 2012

Merry Christmas

I delivered goodies to my students today. Most of them were gone. I managed to catch one home and I gave a bag of goodies to another one's cousin. I must have gone by six or seven houses. When I say houses, I mean project apartments and crowded tenements.  There was a family of eight that were living in a one room apartment. The other students house was an orphanage. I was grateful to be in circumstances that are not that poor. I am glad to be in a situation where I have that which I need and that which I want.
Merry Christmas faithful readers and to all
a good night.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Backpacks

So the primary reason why I joined Teach for America was because I wanted to influence my students for good. I thought that once they saw a successful, goodlooking, and cool guy like myself they would for sure start listening to me and leave the hood for good. You would never believe how surprised I was when after a week my students didn't start performing well on their tests. I thought that soon enough they would come around.
However, as time has progressed I haven't seen much change for the better from them. In fact, that first week, I didn't really realize how low my kids were and how low my expectations should be. (They don't put them in SDC for nothing you know). For instance, I left for a training one day and when I came back I received the following note.

If your wondering if that is really what it says... the answer is yes.

If you are thinking "well the sub means that they were smoking weed outside"  you are wrong.

If you are wondering how they smoked weed in my class I will tell you.




My dear friends named in the aforementioned picture were not dumb enough to toke up a blunt in the back of class. Nope, no way. My little ingenue-rs concocted a far less obvious way of smoking weed. The two took turns lighting marijuana in Jose's backpack, sticking his head in the backpack and then having the other zip up the backpack to make sure that they would not miss out on collecting that purple haze.  From all reports, both student and teacher it appears the two got away with two turns each before the substitute realized that two individuals could actually be stupid enough to smoke marijuana in class.
 I wonder if they were like "This idea is so good that it has to work!"

Anyway, if this teaching thing doesn't work out I think I am going to go into business. I have a pretty great idea.


                                       Introducing


                                                        "The Bongpack"
Avaliable in
Ganja Green

and      Hemp


 This idea is so good that it has to work!

Weed and Harmony

ROJO

Thursday, December 6, 2012

The problem with women

What's up with people who think babies are cute?   I mean the occasional ethnic baby is alright but when it really comes down to it, there are a lot of babies that just creep the crap out of me.
I dot get women who think that babies are cute and are the end all be all of the world. For instance, I was texting a girl for a little while. I kind of liked her, because she was a model, but I kind of didn't, because she was a model. Anyway she showed me the following picture of a baby with the following explanation.

 



I then responded with the following text.




Now I am not my uncle Gene. let's be honest everybody, I neither believe that that baby was cute or even like babies, but what was I suppossed to say?

After taking one look at what I thought was the spawn of ET and Boy George, I wanted to say that it was hideous but I just responded with a false exclamation of admiration for babies.

I have the perfect text next time

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Anyway ladies here are some uglybaby= cute baby comparisons
 
 
.
 
Those were the ugly ones
 
here are the cute ones
 
 
Ladies if we get married I can promise you that the kid that you have with me will look like the last one, study like the seond to last, and experience as much persecution as the third to last one.
 
 
 

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Blind Leading the Blind

I never really knew how ADHD I was until I looked at my kids. I really didn't. I had an idea that I may have had some issues, but I never realized how deep my issues ran. Its a harsh wakeup call really.

Having students with the same disability that you have is like looking into a mirror. A very disorganized, unkempt, and absent minded mirror. My kids knod off, make strange noises, say dumb things, and always forget their materials. Most other teachers don't put up with their crap. I try to discipline my kids, but it is kind of difficult when they are doing the exact same thing that you do. Its hard to fail a kid for not bringing a pen when the record for the longest time you have had a pen is for three days.
I recently went to a workshop that talked about the importance of teaching children to be organized. Among the various concepts that were taught were color coding, binder collection, and backpack cleanliness. After the hour and a half lecture on teaching ADHD children to be organized, I began to stop paying attention (surprising I know). I started to surf the web and I found this picture
blind leading other blind,
until next time.
Rojo 

a depressing statement

You may be wondering, where the heck I have been for about a month and a half. You may be thinking, "man that last post about Curious George Lopez was so damn funny, what the heck happened to Rom? He was on a roll." You may be wondering that, but in all honesty, you probably haven't wondered that. I'd like to think that people adored my blog enough to say this; unfortunately, I think that people read my blog about as much as I read other blogs. That is to say very rarely.
  The comedy of my job has began to wear thin. For almost a month and a half I was entertained by the follies and the faults of my students. It is hard to explain how I felt at the time that I started to teach. I was entertained, but saddened by the foolish responses of my students. I used their responses as fodder for my blog. This was not a malacisious and ill spirited attempt to get a laugh. More so, I beleived that there was power to comedy. In fact I still believe that there is power to comedy. I think humor is nothing more than the truth revealed in an uplifting manner and I belief that many times it is far more poignent than drama. I believed, then, and I still beleive now that my blog presented the pathetic world that was and is my students lives. I was able to laugh at how pathetic their responses were and I was able to try and help these kids as much as possible.
   As time has progressed, seeing my students failing has turned from an enjoyable pasttime to a frustrating reality.  I cannot explain how upsetting it is to see your students fail time and time again. I cannot express how disheartening it is to prepare a lesson for an hour and a half, only to have it go over the heads of all of my students. It is hurtful it is frustrating. I joined Teach For America becuase I truly believed that I have the skill sets to change the lives of my students. I suppose in a way I still believe that. Every evening I start my lesson plans believing my students are going to get something out of the lesson that I have tauhgt them. Every morning I am filled with a hope that the day will be different than the last.  Thus far my hope has provided no substance. No marked change has transpired within the lives of my children. No reading growth. No analytical enrichment, and certainly no increase in rhetoric.
   Students still believe that Barak Obama is the person who makes all of the laws in the United States. They hold fast to the notion that Maximllion Robpspierre was Frances first millioniare, and the still believe that a democracy is Curious George Lopez.
   I cannot tell you what I am accomplishing. I don't know if any lives have changed because of me. I am quite certain that anyone else could do as good or perhaps better a job than me at teaching these children. I don't know why I am doing any of this. I really don't. I couldn't tell you what I have accomplished, the only thing that I know is that I am suppossed to be here. I wish that it wasn't this way but it is. 
 

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Panther Pride

Schools throughout the world show their pride differently.
For some schools, like my alma Matter Redlands High School they choose to show their pride through time honored traditions. As a result they do rediculous things such as have our graduation at the Redlands Bowl, an outdoor venue filled with an antiquated wooden benches that make the three hour procession all the more memorable.
   For others, pride is shown through excellence in academics. In La Canada, Loma Linda, and other regions heavily populated with Asian Americans, students give their all to getting striaght A's. This creates a culture of learning and again a culture of pride.
   There are also schools that take pride in athletics. Riverside Poly, for instance is a school that has produced dozens of hall of famer's such as  Reggie and Cheryl Miller, Sippy Woodhead, Barry, and Bobby Bonds. They show their might and pride on the gridiron, in the pool, and on the court.
  But what happens when you have no time honored traditions? What happens when your school lacks academic success? What happens when there is a dirth of athletic achievement? How does your school show their spirit? How does your school show your pride?
Well here at West Adams let me show you how we show our pride.


(Please Mute Your Speakers before you press play)
 Fighting



     and I dare say we are pretty darn good at what we do.



Here is my personal favorite



How did I find out about this? Well of course teaching SDC allows me to teach some of the most proud panthers in the entire school.  In fact the kid with the cast in the second video is one of my students.

until next time
Mr. E
Fighting for my kids
in SDC.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Rom your love life is nuts, but how is teaching going?

Thanks friend I am glad you can ask. Here is a link to my teaching blog.
http://mresdc.blogspot.com/

Along with my most recent story.

It is appalling to see what some of these kids write down for answers .Today I tried to explain what a democracy was through the use of an example of voting for a class mascot. I created three class mascots that included the following
 Vato Loco,













Intellectual kitten,












 and Curious George Lopez.





 I was most proud of curious George Lopez. I spliced a picture of George Lopez and put it on Curious George’s face. I thought the kids would like it, but they hated it.



Anyway, It failed miserably. Like really bad, but I guess that is the life of a first year teacher in SDC. I am not teaching to their level. I am teaching far beyond their capabilities and I am trying to see who is swimming. Thus far, not many people are swimming. This fact is exhibited by the following exit ticket. I asked, “what is a democracy?” One of the students responded with the following answer. 





                At least he remembered Curious George Lopez.
                                Until the next time, I’ll be watching my students monkey around.
Mr. E in 215.

Monday, September 24, 2012

The Curry Curse

Greetings readers,

Before I get going here I must make the following disclaimer: this is the first (and likely last) post on this blog which is not actually penned by Sir Romulous Jones the Magnificent Mormon.  With that said, I'll now proceed to break down the ever-curious "Curry Curse."

Some time ago, a colleague of mine by the name of John R. Evans informed me of this supposed curse.  I had not previously heard of anything so radical in all my days.  Professor Evans claimed to have empirical research that proved this curse to be real.  He told me, and I quote:
"Any time you take a girl out for Thai food, regardless of all other factors, it will absolutely, without-a-doubt be the last date you will ever go on with that girl."
Being one who has been on the more fortunate side of the dating scene, and also one who happens to love Thai food, I found Evans' claim to be completely nonsensical- until I tested it.

Story #1.  About this time last year I was dating a girl long-distance.  We missed each other, as might be expected, so she hopped on a plane to come spend a weekend with me.  One night that weekend we stopped at a nice Thai place for dinner.  The absurd thought that it was our last date did not even cross my mind.  As "fate" would have it, however, we broke up just a few days after she returned home.

Story #2.  Approximately six months ago I was set up on a blind date with a very attractive girl who hailed from the east coast.  Ironically, the Cupid here was everyone's favorite Rojo.  The blind date went surprisingly well, so I decided I wanted to take her out again.  We spent some time together over the next while in more casual settings before committing the curry sin, and interest was very evident from both her and me.  And then I had the brilliant idea of going out for Thai food...  I don't think I need to go into much detail here, but it will suffice to say that things fizzled about as quickly as they sizzled.  For better or worse, we both became extremely busy and that was the end of that.

Story #3.  Less than a month ago I started crushing on another would-be curry victim.  Things began slowly, but once the ball got rolling it looked like its course would be fairly tough to impede.  That is, until we went to dinner at yet another supplier of curry.  Incredulous to the idea that anything could go so wrong so quickly, I told her about the "curse" over dinner.  We laughed about it.  And then, just the very next day everything came to a swift halt and later that week she began seeing one of my good friends.


Ladies and gentlemen, we are taught in 2 Corinthians 13:1 that the truth will be made known to us by two or three witnesses.  I have given three sound accounts here (and believe me, it's happened more than three times) that should remove any doubt in your mind of the validity and reality of this curse.  I failed to mention in the individual stories that each of these relationships was not terminated immediately, but rather there was no desire to extend to another date following the deliciously poisoned Thai curry.  Every single one of these trips to get Thai food was actually very enjoyable in the moment; it was not until a few days later that I was left scratching my head.  If you have experienced the Curry Curse firsthand, please feel free to join the ever-growing online support group at www.currycurse.com.  For those who have not yet fallen prey, consider yourself warned.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Shalom


Light the Menorah, sprinkle lamb's blood over the door, and let Elijah have the last bit of meal from the widow's barrel. Jew will never guess what I did tonight...
I kissed one of the chosen people. I have wanted to do this for quite some time now. Some would say that it is a fulfillment of prophecy, like unto the rebuilding of Solomon’s Temple. Alisa Malki, the first girl that I ever really liked, was Jewish.  Ever since that moment in time I have had two things happen to me. First, I have become an enthusiast, sympathist, and advocate for Israeli causes (I consider myself somewhere in the ballpark of the man in the Good Samaritan parable and Oskar Schindler). Second, I have an itching case of Matzah ball fever. 

            I took her out on a real kosher date (excluding the fact that her lips touched goyim such as myself). We went to an El Salvadorian night club. I'm guessing that she found it really attractive that I would take her to a place where they had both the worst papusas on the planet and also some of the least attractive people sensually dancing with one another on the dance floor. After this, I taught her to skateboard (I think I'm a little bit better than her). We talked about teaching since we both teach, and then she told me about her bat mitzvah that was on a yacht.   I think that was about one of the sexiest things a woman has ever told me.

            Anyway, it was a good time. I really don’t know what is going to happen. I mean, she seems pretty freaking Jewish (as well as pretty freaking gorgeous and interesting) and I am pretty freaking Mormon, and I am not looking to marry anyone who is not of the not-chosen faith.We'll see how things go... I may just have to take her out to Thai Food.
Well, until next time.


Being circumcised in mind, heart, and body,


Rojo 



Wait you are wondering about the bit about Thai food? There is a story behind it. Let me tell you… next blog post.  

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Award Winners

Hey Y'all Provo Enthusiasts,

Greetings from Los Angeles, "home of the diverse... even when you don't want it to be." I am loving Los Angeles- I have really made it my home. All that I really had to do to make it home was to simply arrive at the conclusion that I wasn't going to miss Provo anymore. To be candid, I don't miss Provo. Not at all. I do miss my friends in Provo, but the intense pressure for me to date, get married, and just act like a Mormon is completely gone.

With this stated, I am grateful for all the love you have sent my way since BYU started its Fall semester. It has been great to receive texts from you all and to hear how much you miss me. I am grateful I have such friends. So grateful in fact I have decided to give you guys awards.

                                                                   
Best Documentation of a Relationship on Instagram 
             Andy Romney & Chelsea Livermore
"Amazing," "astounding," & "unbelievable" are just a few of the adjectives used by critics to describe the ferocity with which the two of these individuals have posted pictures on Instagram. Thanks to Instagram, there has never been a question in my mind whether or not my cousin and my future cousin were still together. Whether it was the two of them swimming in the Cherry Village pool, taking a trip to California, or just walking around Provo, I always knew exactly where the two of them were and what they were doing.



(Runner Up: Alex McDonell and His Skateboard)





First Phone Response
Samantha J. Topham 
This award was a tough one to give out. Between Jake Balser, Samantha Topham, and the rotting corpse of my Grandma Pingree it was a virtual toss up. However, after sending off eight consecutive text messages and three phone calls without the slightest iota of a response, I decided that if I was going into cardiac arrest I'd just say "Screw Life Alert, I am calling Sam Topham."
Best Boiled Chicken 
Jason M. DeLange 
The thing I may miss most about not living in Provo is coming home to fresh aroma of partially thawed chicken. No sweeter smell has ever graced the olfactory senses than that of Jason's chicken. 

Friday, August 3, 2012

Happy Birthday to Kelsey Page!

Kelsey-
Not only do you get your very own blog post on my blog, but I am also going to get Google Reader just so I can follow your WordPress blog.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Two Decade Man

I'm officially a two-decade man. You may be wondering, "what the F does that mean?" Well I'll tell you. For quite some time this girl in Teach For America has been after me. This in itself is a rare and isolated occurence. However, the strangest thing about this girl is that she is no girl at all. She is a fully grown woman. She has a child by the name of Domminick who turns 14 in September. How old is she? I'm not sure, but this may give a clue as to how old she really is. She told me that she was in the same hotel Tupac was staying in the night he was killed.  And she was in college then... Meanwhile, I was in Ms. Drake's kindergarten class and I had just mastered using the toilet unassisted. This screenshot is also another example that shows her age.

Notice the xoxoxo's. I thought texting killed that. 

Now let's be objective about this. She's pretty good-looking, in a "soccer mom" kind of way. I'm cool with it. Anyway, shes been wanting to go out with me for a while now. I finally said yes. We got Indian food, and it was fun. She was way interesting. She told me that she graduated in 1991. This is big news for me. This means that I now have a 20-year spread on dates. 

Bloggers, from here on out you can refer to me as Veinte, Dos Decades, or the Berlin Wall.

Until next time, may my spread increase. 
Rojo 1991-2011

P.S. She told me that she was 37 but I personally think she's shaving off a couple of years to impress me. 

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Markhem

My first week of teaching has finished, and to be candid with you the stories that I have from my classroom have really been quite a letdown . I am teaching at Markhem Middle School in Watts. The school is surrounded by four of the largest projects in Los Angeles, one of them being the second largest this side of the Mississippi. When a friend of mine googled Markhem Middle School, the first article that showed up had this opening “even in the most challenging of economic times, many unemployed teachers would rather remain jobless than teach in one of the harshest environments.”

The lack of scholarly expectation for this school created a high expectation for stories to be told within my mind. Sadly this has not been the case yet.  The students in my mind are too well-behaved. They are too obedient, and they are too boring. My first week on the job has been relatively boring. I mean there was  John Williams III (da third) who wants to go to college, have a wife and kids, and own a house. When I further pushed and questioned John about his future profession he said "naw Mr. Evans I got that figured out… After college I’m gonna bag groceries at Wal-Mart." For the most part, the stories of these children have been rather dull and boring.
           
While there has been a relative lack of excitement in regard to the drama in my students' lives, there is no durth in the troubles that they face. There are about five kids in my seventh grade Pre-Algebra class who haven’t the slightest clue how to perform the times tables. One kid even used a freaking numberline. I have about three kids reading on grade level, the rest are behind a grade or two, and there are about three who have a first or second grade reading level.

The saddest part about all of this is that these students are in the magnet program of the school. They are the scholars of Markhem Elementary. I hope they can succeed and I hope that I can help them, but I will be dead honest- can one teacher really change the life of all thirty of his students? I’d like to believe so and I want to work towards that, but I’m not sure it can happen.

My greatest fear is failing to give up as much as I reasonably can for these children.  I always feel like I can do better and I always feel that I can do more to help. We will have to see how everything works out. I hope it will go well.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Honeymoon Mixtape

It's official! I'm engaged!
You may be thinking to yourself, "I didn't even know that Rom was dating anyone... I'm such a crappy friend."

Well I have news for you...

Steph Adams has responded to three of my texts in a row!  This is big. This is the biggest thing ever to happen in our relationship. I consider ourselves to be madly in love. I'm sure she feels the same way and if she doesn't then she will soon.

I didn't believe it when others told me previously, but being engaged is so hard. The temptations are just so great. It's a good thing that Steph is in Arizona and I am in Utah, or I don't think we would be having a temple marriage.

Our wedding will be in the Mesa, Arizona Temple in July... I've always wanted to be a July groom.

Since the wedding is so close, I have done a lot of planning. I'm letting Steph plan the wedding. Right now I am planning the mix tape for our honeymoon. 



 
Here it is
This remake of the Beach Boys "Wouldn't it be Nice" will really set the mood.


This is Steph's favorite band so I guess I will have to bite my lower lip and suffer through a track or two. 


But here is where the night takes a turn for the awesome...

Nothing says love like  Richard Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries."









 (at about minute two is where a naked RoJo gets up and starts conducting an imaginary orchestra)



This one speaks for itself 

I hope you have enjoyed this musical journey as much as I have...

Indiana Rom

Introducing Jason DeLange, CFO of My Blog

As you are all aware, I recently added my roommate Nate Moorhead as the official editor of the "Rom's Greetings From" blog. It's been a wonderful time having him here, and I think that he really has influenced the blog for good, even though I feel that some of you enjoyed my terrible punctuation and even worse syntax.
                Since having an editor has been such a positive change for my blog, I have decided that I need to appoint a chief financial operator for my blog as well. Fellow followers, I hope you give a warm welcome to our new CFO: my other roommate, viz. Jason Michael DeLange. What a joyous time this is for all of us.
                Now you all may be thinking to yourselves, "Rom why the heck would a blog with only thirty followers and no advisers need a chief financial officer, isn’t that completely superfluous?"  To which I say, “fellow readers, my blog needs a CFO like a heart needs a beat; it's not at all superfluous.” Well, besides the fact that Jason has been nagging me to make him the chief financial officer.
I will now give you six jobs that my CFO will perform for me.
1.     Complain about how the apartment stinks right after pan-frying unthawed chicken that has been freezer burned since you moved into the apartment.
2.     Keep you up all night as you hear him having a one-way conversation about who knows what.
3.     Frantically call and text you to come home "right now" because he really needs to talk to you. Only to find out he wants to know if he should text some girl he’s interested in today or tomorrow.
4.     Wake you up every morning at 7:00 a.m. with bagpipes for his alarm.
5.     Occupy the TV you bought to watch shows you're not interested in.
6.     Be such a good enough friend that you're able to overlook steps 1-5 and still love him all the same.  


So, readers, it is for these reasons and many others that I need and will now have an official chief financial officer for my blog.  You’ll be a natural, Jason.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Beantown

Dear Family,
          Greetings from Boston, "where the weather is almost as poor as people's sense of style." Boston has a proud Irish heritage. For nearly one hundred fifty years Boston has been a place of refuge for one of the most persecuted people ever to make it across the Atlantic. Bostonians are proud of this heritage. Catholic churches litter the city. Pubs are found on every block. Even Boston's basketball team is named the Celtics. Indeed, the apple that is Boston does not fall far from the Irish tree.
          Perhaps the greatest thing that Bostonians and the Irish have in common is that the citizens of both areas have no idea how to dress. That was one of the first things that I noticed when I reached Ireland. Everyone in that country had a polo shirt that looked like it came straight off the racks at Salvation Army, coupled with a pair of tattered jeans. It was not the prettiest of sights. I am glad that people don't dress like this in most of the states.
          Relief from fashion faux pas did not come to me when I returned from Ireland and reached the shores of America. Boston has been rather unkind to me in that sense. I got on the T and immediately felt like I was back in Ireland. The same exact outfits were worn. I have hope that Utah will be better to me, but who knows, maybe I've missed the start of a terrible craze.
          Although I may dress well (some, like my editor, would say very well), I have little room to talk about trying to save money. Saving money has become an addiction for me on this trip. I just hate spending money especially when I feel like it is not my own money to spend. This disorder has caused me to do a great number of stupid things, e.g. missing an opportunity to look at the inside of Westminster Abbey and not viewing Paris from atop the Arc Du Triumph.
          I must admit, missing the Arc Du Triumph and Westminster Abbey pales in comparison to what I did today. As you are well aware from previous emails, I have also become an advocate of going on free tours of cities. I just love it. So much so that I googled free tours of Boston and saw that there was a freedom trial tour that was going to start this afternoon at 2:00. So I rode the T into the city, ate lunch with Johnny Palmer and then tried to find this so-called "free tour." Unfortunately for me, I was unable to locate the tour this afternoon. However, when I am on a trip I do not fret; rather, I improvise.

Today was by no means an exception to my improvisation. I looked around Freedom Park for a tour to join. Occasionally, men and women dressed in outfits from the 1700s would lead elementary and middle school students on a tour. Now, since I have graduated from college, I feel more like an adult. And because I feel like an adult, I don't believe that it would be too absurd to believe that I have a kid. I didn't even think it would be that out-of-the-question for me to have a child in eighth grade, so I decided to pose as a father and join a tour of eighth graders.


          For the first two stops of the tour I was pretty confident that no one noticed that I was just a cheap, twenty-three-year-old college graduate, but to be safe I stayed in the back of the pack and tried to hide behind the biggest eighth grader (who happened to be half a foot shorter than me). As the tour progressed, however, the tour guide began to make some strange announcement in a British accent (which he put on in an attempt to make the tour more realistic). "Remember my Yankee school children, this tour is private and for John Hancock Middle School mates only." The man would then look straight at me and I would quickly divert my eyes from his harsh glare in an attempt to remain on the tour. This exchange continued until we reached Paul Revere's grave, when the Redcoat looked straight at me, and said in a perfectly American voice, "leave."
          Well that's pretty much it for me. My trip has been amazing. I have a layover in Phoenix for a couple of hours, and I'm gonna try to use my charm to see if one of the people at the gates will allow me to postpone my flight until later so that I can catch the Dodgers and Diamondbacks at Chase Field. #pipedream
I love you all and thanks for being my audience.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

A Good Irish Fellow

Greetings from Ireland, a.k.a. "the only place where all the stereotypes are true." Throughout the vast world there are numerous stereotypes regarding the Irish that are shared. Most have to do with sobriety, red hair, having a lot of children, and... well nothing else, really. Generally, you cannot bank on every stereotype about a race or group of people as being 100% true. At least that is what I hoped. In regard to the Irish, however, I am beginning to believe that the stereotypes are all true.

As you are aware, two days ago I left to the Emerald City. I took American Airlines as far as it could take me, which was (not surprisingly) not that far. I hopped on board Aer Lingus, which is Ireland's national air company. When I entered the international terminal in Chicago, I headed to the Aer Lingus terminal. As I arrived, I noticed that about half of the passengers had red hair. Upon further examination I noticed that everyone in the waiting area (with the exception of two sweet grandmas in the back and myself) had a beer in their hand. From that moment in time I have seen very few Irish folks without a beer in their hand.

During the day, people here seem remarkably cold. I rode a bus to Galway (the town where my friend Ian lives), which is a little more than three hours away from the Dublin Airport. I tried talking to everyone. It was early in the morning. I began by saying hello and each person either gave me an upset response, a shrug of their shoulders, or no response whatsoever.

A little more than an hour into the ride, the bus stopped in downtown Dublin, and a very nice red-headed gentleman by the name of Shane stepped onto the bus and sat next to me. Surprisingly, he said "hello" to me. I, being rather starved for personal interaction at the time, immediately began to chat with him. For the next two hours we talked with one another. He was quite interesting. He hailed from Galway, but was living in Dublin. His parents were Jehovah's Witnesses but he was an atheist (I managed to give him a copy of the Book of Mormon though). After about an hour into the conversation I asked my new friend Shane why he was so warm and bubbly when everyone else around was so bleak and cold. He quickly responded "well that's because everyone else is hung over." I laughed and then asked why he wasn't hung over. I was fully expecting a response such as "well because my parents are Jehovah's Witnesses I have decided not to drink." Instead, Shane looked at me and said, "Well I'm still drunk."

Shane asked me about the United States and their drinking habits. He was flabbergasted by the fact that the police would arrest you for being drunk in public. He also was completely confused as to how I had never tasted the "nectar of life."
Ireland is assuredly is a different place than those I am accustomed to. There really are more pubs than markets in this place. There are more pubs than gas stations. There are more pubs than anything else.

Well y'all, until tomorrow...
Let the whisky flow.
Love,
Romney

Rojo's European Letters

Well I have returned from Europe. Some would say that I conquered Europe. In fact, most would say that I conquered Europe. I think that I conquered Europe.
My trip was amazing. Unfortunately, I did not have internet access for most of my time there, and was consequently unable to keep you updated on the blog. Luckily I brought a journal with me. Unluckily yet quite expected, I lost my journal. The good news after all of this is that I have a mind like a steel trap and for the following days I will be chronicling my journeys for my readership. I hope that each of you will enjoy my European travails and travels. This blog after all is called "Greetings From."

Well bloggers, enjoy the following letters.

Rojo

Friday, May 11, 2012

Don't Walk Before You Know

Yeah I walked last semester. It felt pretty good. It was a symbollic gesture of 16 years of hard work. It was a symbolic gesture of transcending the difficulties such as dyslexia, depression, ADHD, and a myriad of other disorders. It was a symbolic gesture of hope. It was a symbolic gesture of peace, for myself and for the world. However, when it really comes down to it, it was simply a symbollic gesture.
I still have one credit to pass before I graduate. So I really haven't graduated yet. This credit can be any single thing. It does not have to be in any certain class. It just has to be one credit. I asked my good friend and editor what I should take and he told me to take two .5 credit classes known as I-SYS 100 (excel) and 101 (powerpoint). I then asked others if I should take this class and each person has told me the same thing, that these classes are the easiest classes you will ever take and you need not worry about passing.
I would just like to use this blog to tell all of the people that told me this that I hate you. I'm in a dog fight. Nothing is more freightening than having your life plan being ruined by two classes that everyone else in the world seems to sleep through and pass. I haven't ever experienced something so stressful in my entire life. With this being stated I ask for all of your prayers in my behalf.
until next time


I'll be going HAM
ROJO

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Who was I to deny Paris?


    Greetings from Paris France, "the city where you shouldn't fall in love." This place is magnificent. I have never seen a city so well designed in my entire life. Here is a little tid bit for all of you travelers out there. France was actually a dirty disgusting and over crowded city until Napoleon III in 1860 bulldozed the entirity of the city. He did this for two reasons. The first was that it was dirty and disgusting. The second was that revolutions would easily spread in the narrows of the deep dark streets of France. Bulldozing and creating larger streets allowed the French army to easily quell the rebellions that were a staple of nineteenth century parisian life.

     We are all the benefactors from these Napoleon III's revolutionary changes to stop revolutions. Every design in the entire city is beautifully manufactured and crafted. The buildings are well designed and well established. Famous art from Rodon and others surround the entire city. Light simply seems to shimmer off of the buildings and onto the pavement in such a romantic way. It is unlike any other city in the world. 
     One easily could fall victim to cupids arrow in this city. It would not be hard. In fact falling in love was not hard. 
I will say that again... Falling in love was not hard. 
     Yes RoJo has had a fling with in the city of Paris. I booked a ticket to France on Ryan Air earlier this week.  For those of you who don't know what Ryan Air is it can best be described as a cross between a playschool plastic picnic table and a sardine can. I managed to sit next to two guys who were speaking French. However, providence smiled upon me and I was asked to take a seat up front. There a met a girl who was from Boston. 

Could I relate to her? No 
Was anything going to happen with this relationship? No 
Did I find her attractive? kind of  

                        But was this Paris?... Yes
 and who am I to deny Paris? 
I would not allow any petty things such as looks, personality, character get in the way of my experience in Paris. How vain would that be of me?

I just kissed the girl on the banks of the Sane River. To the south of me was the Eiffel Tower. To the north of me was the great cathedral of Notre Dame. I tucked her hair back behind her ears and then went in for the kiss and she accepted.

We then went our separate ways and at that moment I thought she was so hot. The experience of being in France and kissing someone in the most romantic place that the world has to offer tends to rob you of reason. In my mind that woman was as virtuous and as lovely as the Effiel Tower.
Unfortunately I was dumb enough to get her number and take her out the next night.

Well bloggers until next time.


The Romantic Rojo.


Thursday, April 19, 2012

Graduation

Well I am graduating and I don't think that it could come any sooner. I have decided that I am done with the Provo scene and the events that happened today only served to reinforce my feelings that it is time to move. Most of these feelings come from dating. I have decided to share the events that happened today through the use of Willy Wonka Memes.



Living in a world of pure imagination and getting the F out of Provo.
Rojo 

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

My Upcoming Trip to Ireland

Ladies and Gentlemen,
fellow readers of my blog,

I am pleased to announce that next month I will be taking my talents to Europe. I am certain that you are all as excited about this trip as I am. You may also have a few questions about my trip. These questions may include but are not limited to the following:
"Rom why are you going to Europe?"
"Rom what part of Europe are you going to?"
"Rom what are you going to do in Europe?"
Or even, "Rom why has your background been changed to a picture of your Uncle Gene being kissed by a girl?"
It is for these reasons, fellow bloggers, that I have decided to write this post.
I am going to Europe because I can. There really isn’t any other reason besides that. I have no reason to go. I don’t even know how much of a desire I have to go. But let's be honest, I am going to be a teacher for the rest of my life and there is no chance that I will have money to travel. So I may as well go while I still have some sort of monetary support.

As far as destinations, I will visit Ireland, France, and England. To further commemorate the trip I've come up with a specific goal for my journey and listed some of the ways in which I will accomplish the said goal.

Mission Statement for Europe 2012
“To reinforce the negative stereotype that Americans are loud obnoxious and pretentious people who are at best uncultured and uncouth.”

Ways in that I hope to accomplish my goal...
I will:
Wear an American flag t-shirt that has something like "home of the brave... land of the free."
Order french fries and root beer at every restaurant and complain about how they don’t have it.
Ask for peanut butter at stores.
Ask people to take a picture of me when they are in the least convenient spots to do so.
Wear a fanny pack.
Crank up the song “Niggas in Paris” as loud as humanly possible to celebrate the fact that I am in France.


Until Next time...

I'll be going Gorillaz
Love, Rojo

P.S. Uncle Gene has been ordered by the Utah State Supreme Court to remove his Facebook account. As a result, I am posting his picture on my blog to combat the injustices committed by the state of Utah. The picture also shows the babe who fell for Uncle Gene last November.