...Kristofer M. Snyder
I've had a full beard since I was sixteen, I believe that each hair that falls out of the top of my head, is being replaced with two hairs on my face. I drive a 2008 Honda Civic 5 speed, I have fought hard to keep this car, so I do love it very much. I greatly enjoy exercise, playing sports, running, and stretching. Most of all, basketball is and will always be my mistress, I am always stealing time for her, and coming early and staying late at the gym just to get those few extra minutes with her. I currently reside in Bangor, but I am from a much smaller town called Winterport. Winterport is a small, quiet farming town that used to be a large port for loggers. Now a days, transportation is much different so this small town kept it's character through all the years. After the long days or even the short days come to an end, there is nothing that I enjoy more, then a natural green smoke. It clears me out and stimulates my mind when all my mind really wants to do is shut down. From the long weekdays, to the short weekends, I find a way to keep moving forward, because this is in fact my plan. Moving Forward.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Inventory of 12'x12' Room
Detective (Graf 3)
At first glance it looked like a robbery, but he was suspicious that there was no break in at all. The door did not appear to be altered nor damaged, so what hurricane could have swooped through there and turned order into chaos? The clock radio was still playing music, therefore someone had been there recently. The chair was torn and tattered, along with the toy box tipped over with all its belongings thrown about the floor. A crib? This was a strong clue for him, there must have been a child that lived there, perhaps the robbery was not a robbery at all but only made to look like one. This appeared very suspicious to him, he wondered why if someone came here to kidnap a child they would have taken the time to tear the residence up? Very suspicious indeed, he turned the corner when he was tripped up by a tricycle, then he saw it. He saw the hurricane himself staring him right in the face, although this hurricane may have been only 3 feet tall, he could have torn up the entire house if the gates didn't stop him. It was hurricane Johnny, right there in front of him, he had to stop the hurricane, and stop the disaster before it consumed the entire house. So the battle raged on, until one day the hurricane will stop spinning out of control and steer his own course towards order rather than chaos.
At first glance it looked like a robbery, but he was suspicious that there was no break in at all. The door did not appear to be altered nor damaged, so what hurricane could have swooped through there and turned order into chaos? The clock radio was still playing music, therefore someone had been there recently. The chair was torn and tattered, along with the toy box tipped over with all its belongings thrown about the floor. A crib? This was a strong clue for him, there must have been a child that lived there, perhaps the robbery was not a robbery at all but only made to look like one. This appeared very suspicious to him, he wondered why if someone came here to kidnap a child they would have taken the time to tear the residence up? Very suspicious indeed, he turned the corner when he was tripped up by a tricycle, then he saw it. He saw the hurricane himself staring him right in the face, although this hurricane may have been only 3 feet tall, he could have torn up the entire house if the gates didn't stop him. It was hurricane Johnny, right there in front of him, he had to stop the hurricane, and stop the disaster before it consumed the entire house. So the battle raged on, until one day the hurricane will stop spinning out of control and steer his own course towards order rather than chaos.
Inventory of 12'x12' Room
Inventory of Johnathon's Room
-Carpet with entire city stitched into it
-Yellow dump truck
-Blue sippy cup tipped over (empty)
-Electric guitar
-Clock radio (playing country)
-Giant snoopy stuffed animal
-My old blue, sticker covered dresser
-Old wooden rocking chair
-Crib full of blankets, pillows, and an assortment of stuffed animals
-Box of diapers
-box of wipes
-notepad and pen (lots of scribbles)
-Mini train
Orange hard hat
-Green fold up chair (torn)
-Pile of pillows in the corner next to rocking chair
-Leap from learning system box
-Empty toy box, tipped over
-Basketball
-Old cell phone
-Shelf with mini toy baskets
a) Teddy bear, stuffed frog
b) Full of hot-wheels
c) Mr. and Mrs. Potato head (complete set)
-Carpet with entire city stitched into it
-Yellow dump truck
-Blue sippy cup tipped over (empty)
-Electric guitar
-Clock radio (playing country)
-Giant snoopy stuffed animal
-My old blue, sticker covered dresser
-Old wooden rocking chair
-Crib full of blankets, pillows, and an assortment of stuffed animals
-Box of diapers
-box of wipes
-notepad and pen (lots of scribbles)
-Mini train
Orange hard hat
-Green fold up chair (torn)
-Pile of pillows in the corner next to rocking chair
-Leap from learning system box
-Empty toy box, tipped over
-Basketball
-Old cell phone
-Shelf with mini toy baskets
a) Teddy bear, stuffed frog
b) Full of hot-wheels
c) Mr. and Mrs. Potato head (complete set)
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Worst Teacher
Anxious and amused, I am waiting for Mr. Douglass to come burst his bubble all over this clean and quiet hallway. It is just a regular Tuesday and Mr. Douglass once again gave myself and my partner in crime, Greg, the boot from his classroom. We were not doing anything that any other 5th grader in his class could easily get away with. I was disassembling a purple gel-ink pen, and Greg was merely admiring my speed and precision in which I could finish this task. With zero warnings so far in the day, we thought we could get away with a little fool play and distraction. “HEY! Pay Attention!” Mr. Douglass exclaims. We were used to being told to pay attention and still going about our business. However, on this day Mr. Douglass' bubble was already full with irritation, and frustration. So there was no room to cram our fooling around in this already plump bubble of his. After the first splurge of anger towards us, that was it. “Get out of MY class!” He yelled in our direction. So we gallop to our regular desks in the hallway, for this was a daily ritual for us at this late point in the year. He made us wait, like always for ten minutes or so. To think about “what we were doing wrong.” We never did much internalizing about why we pissed him off, but more plotting of how can we piss him off more. Simple thoughts that pass through most troubled ten year olds simple brain. He comes out into the hallway, quietly closing the door, as to not disturb the other “well behaved” students. “I have to deal with you two every single day” he tells us, like we didn't feel the same way towards him. Just the looks on our faces made the vein in the center of his forehead pop out at us like a pop up picture book. This was his last straw, he could tolerate no more of our “mis-behaving.” Instead of apologizing and admitting we were out of line, we decide to just laugh at him. He was one that did not like being mocked, so this made his ever famous vein take up what seemed to be his whole forehead. We were sent to the principles office earlier then usual, but not for bending spoons in the cafeteria or rough housing on the playground. No, we were sent for frustrating our teacher so badly that he couldn't handle us anymore. We got the usual lecture from the principle about behaving better in the classroom. We nodded our heads in agreement. What neither the principle nor Mr. Douglass ever really realized was, we were never nodding our heads in agreement with them, we were just nodding our heads to each other. Saying without actually saying, “Yep, we will see you again tomorrow.”
Friday, January 22, 2010
Hands
As I sit here and look over all the cuts and glass shards in my hands. I reflect on the near fatal auto mobile accident which happened on Wednesday, January 20th. I'm driving down I95 northbound and there seems to be no snow falling to the ground. I am far too presumptuous for the elements.
I begin to lose control, I try to pump the brakes, nothing. I try to correct the wheel, still nothing. I feel the back end of my truck swaying then it happens, I lose control of the truck. Here I am, sliding down the Interstate sideways, and I see the minivan flying closer and closer. I look at the driver of the van, we make eye contact. I turn to his wife, she is bracing for impact. BANG! My passenger door is the point of impact. This boosts me into an uncontrollable spin. Soaring towards the steep snow bank, backwards and scared, I hang on to my soul and pray for a safe landing.
I hit the icy snow bank and it sends me hurling through the air. I land in the soft powder which had just fallen down from the clouds, the snow punches out all of the windows sending a white blur at me quicker then the blink of an eye. At this point, I look at my friend who was riding along with me, and frantically ask, "Are you OK?" He replies with some encouragement, but he still looks terrified. I unbuckle and fall to the roof of the truck, which is now the floor. I crawl towards him and I pull my friend out of the truck window.
At this time I don't even realize all the damage I am doing to myself. I am constantly being sliced and diced by all the glass fragments while I quickly get to my friend. I get my friend to safety and run to check on the passengers in the minivan. The spectators rush to me, try to tell me I am hurt, I don't care that I am hurt. I was more concerned for the other people in the accident.
A middle aged woman rushes to my side and gives me a jacket to keep me from freezing to death. Moments later, my friend regained his full consciousness, he tells me, "Snyder you look like you just got out of war!" I still don't feel a thing, but this is when I look at my mid section and extremities. I am covered in my own blood, but where is it coming from? I can't feel any pain. The paramedics arrive on the scene and immediately wrap my head and hands, because they are the faucets from which I am streaming blood from.
I look at my hands, there are glass shards all through them and this is when I realized how grateful I am that I was able to come out of this high speed accident with just a few bad cuts. I am thankful for every second that I have, and I will continue to make the best of my time while I am still on this rock.
I begin to lose control, I try to pump the brakes, nothing. I try to correct the wheel, still nothing. I feel the back end of my truck swaying then it happens, I lose control of the truck. Here I am, sliding down the Interstate sideways, and I see the minivan flying closer and closer. I look at the driver of the van, we make eye contact. I turn to his wife, she is bracing for impact. BANG! My passenger door is the point of impact. This boosts me into an uncontrollable spin. Soaring towards the steep snow bank, backwards and scared, I hang on to my soul and pray for a safe landing.
I hit the icy snow bank and it sends me hurling through the air. I land in the soft powder which had just fallen down from the clouds, the snow punches out all of the windows sending a white blur at me quicker then the blink of an eye. At this point, I look at my friend who was riding along with me, and frantically ask, "Are you OK?" He replies with some encouragement, but he still looks terrified. I unbuckle and fall to the roof of the truck, which is now the floor. I crawl towards him and I pull my friend out of the truck window.
At this time I don't even realize all the damage I am doing to myself. I am constantly being sliced and diced by all the glass fragments while I quickly get to my friend. I get my friend to safety and run to check on the passengers in the minivan. The spectators rush to me, try to tell me I am hurt, I don't care that I am hurt. I was more concerned for the other people in the accident.
A middle aged woman rushes to my side and gives me a jacket to keep me from freezing to death. Moments later, my friend regained his full consciousness, he tells me, "Snyder you look like you just got out of war!" I still don't feel a thing, but this is when I look at my mid section and extremities. I am covered in my own blood, but where is it coming from? I can't feel any pain. The paramedics arrive on the scene and immediately wrap my head and hands, because they are the faucets from which I am streaming blood from.
I look at my hands, there are glass shards all through them and this is when I realized how grateful I am that I was able to come out of this high speed accident with just a few bad cuts. I am thankful for every second that I have, and I will continue to make the best of my time while I am still on this rock.
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