Yes, we can read. A few of us can even write.

This last weekend, I was in Jackson, Mississippi for a relative's wedding. At a dinner the night of the wedding, my cousin was telling me about her Mississippi Studies class. One of the topics they were discussing was the stereotype that the rest of the country associates with Mississippi.

Now, take a minute. What do you think when you think of Mississippi?

Most of you are probably thinking of some backward society where people ride horses on unpaved roads and struggle to read. Ironically, this portrayal of Mississippian ignorance is, well, ignorant.

The poster shown above is from a recently-implemented advertising campaign intended to address the backward stereotype that many Americans hold in regards to Mississippi. Reportedly, a 12 year old Connecticut boy was sitting next to a Mississippi businessman on an airplane when the boy began to ask the businessman about his home state. His questions ranged from, "Do you hate black people?" to "Do you still see the KKK on the streets everyday?" This experience led the businessman, the COO of a prominent communications firm, to push for a change and begin the campaign. (If any are interested, here is a link to the firm's website and advertisements: http://mississippibelieveit.com/ads/)

After visiting, I quickly came to know that the general public's contrived image of Mississippi simply wasn't true. The people I met at the hotel, in restaurants, and during wedding events could not have been more congenial or polite. There's an atmosphere of Southern charm and simple living that isn't explicable or fully replicable.

I couldn't imagine living in a state which was widely-regarded as illiterate, racist, or unsophisticated. Worse yet, knowing that everyone falsely believed that I was all of those things and not being able to do anything about it would be frustrating and insulting. Much like other stereotypes, visions of a backward Mississippi crumble rapidly when one actually encounters it. Yes, Mississippi is different than other states. It has a distinctive feel. But it hardly deserves the negativity it receives. The people are people, their problems are problems, and, like the rest of us, they're just trying to live life the best way they know how.

Monk

For the last seven years, my mom and I have been watching the TV show Monk together. At night, after we had completed our work for the day, we'd gather around the TV and follow San Francisco's Obsessive Compulsive Detective as he solved crimes and sanitized his hands. As time passed, we came to know and love the characters and their quirks. We watched their stories progress, especially that of Mr. Monk as he fought through a variety of struggles and put the pieces together to solve his wife's murder.

Tonight, on Thanksgiving, my mom and I watched the series finale. It's two-part story detailed a dramatic (and, as always, humorous) conclusion that saw Mr. Monk finally solve that one case that had eluded him. The episode was a culmination of years of stories and plots. When it ended, I couldn't help but feel a little sad and nostalgic. I couldn't help but reflect on the many nights over the last seven years that my mom and I had spent together watching this show, following these characters' "lives" develop as our own lives did the same.

When we started, I was 11 years old, not even in middle school. Now, I'm three months into college visiting home for the first time since I left. For those incredibly formative years in my life, watching Monk was something special that my mom and I did together. It was one of our things and I'll miss it. The memories of my mom and I watching and enjoying Monk together, laughing and even sometimes crying, are something I am truly grateful for on this Thanksgiving.

It's been a good run, Mr. Monk, mom and I will miss you.

My Recent Blogging Trend

I haven't posted a blog in a while, though I've written a lot of them. A solid stack of saved posts currently resides on the post menu, but I've written them more in an effort for personal reflection than to share on a blog.

I get this idea and I think it's absolutely brilliant. I immediately begin typing furiously, splashing my thoughts crudely onto the computer screen. Several minutes later, paragraphs lie strewn together, tying together scattered thoughts and feelings.

I read over my work. Initially, I'm happy. That is how I'm feeling. Sure, I'll need to tidy it up, but that is a good piece of reflective writing. Then the thought comes over me. Is that really something I want to share with everyone and anyone? I think about it and conclude that if I have to think about it, I should probably save the post and keep it for my eyes only.

This is why there haven't been posts for the last two months or so. I feel as though I need to be inspired to write well and recently I'm inspired to write about personal topics and challenges that I'm not inclined to broadcast over the web.

To phrase those thoughts generally, my life has altered drastically in the last three months. It's been a series of challenges, but I've enjoyed it immensely. I've been making new goals and forming new habits in an effort to take the opportunity that college offers me to improve myself.

In this spirit, here's a new goal: to be better about my blog posting.

Home Away From Home

For the last three weeks I've been living in West Philadelphia. It's been really great, but I haven't had much of a chance to update the blog to give a bit of context to my new life! Now, I'm going to give a bit of a virtual tour of my dorm, where I've been spending most of my time.

Here is the first glimpse at Franklin 114: our door. I am aptly represented by Big Bird while my roommates are characterized as Buzz Lightyear and Clifford. What a combination, eh?

After entering through the door's threshold, the best purchase I have ever made dominates our spacious common area. Yes, that futon has been tried and true. Indeed, just today I took an hour long nap on its plush cushion after Math!

This, specifically, is where I spend much of my time. Sadly this is not the futon. No, it is my desk and workspace. With all the work we get out here, our desk chairs become well-worn before too long. Luckily, I upgraded from the standard wooden chair to a comfortable office chair. I do what I can to make this space as personalized as possible. Directly above my desk and computer there are various paraphernalia from home. On the left is my cork board packed with photos of friends and memories - if you look carefully, you could see your own face smiling back at you! To the right of the cork board is my Utah sports shrine. Much to my roommates' chagrin, I zealously represent the beehive state above all others in its athletic endeavors.

After becoming fed up with homework, I will turn to the welcoming futon. This is my view from its comforting embrace. A refrigerator and shelves full of food are a must for college-aged men! Not to mention a TV, which is set on ESPN almost constantly.

A glimpse behind the futon reveals a bit of a clearer picture of the rest of the room. I apologize for the poor lighting on the picture, but I think you can get the gist. My roommates' desks are lined up against the windows and to either side of this picture are the rooms we actually sleep in. I won't show pictures of those at the moment though - they're quite messy!

Well, there it is. A mini-tour of my Philadelphia residence. I hope to post pictures of campus before too long - it's truly an idyllic college campus. Hopefully I'll be able to better balance homework and blogging in the future. For now, that balance is pretty one-sided!

College and Its Many Changes

The month of August has blown by me like a whirlwind, leaving my mind spinning and my blog in the dust. After two weeks of travelling and two weeks of goodbyes, I sit in my dorm room in West Philadelphia. All of the sudden, I'm a college student. Just like that.

This experience has been half-liberating and half-intimidating. It's nice to be able to dictate your own schedule and do what you want at any given moment, but at the same time, it's hard to leave home and be thrust into a new place that is much different than the place you left behind with a new set of responsibilities placed on your shoulders.

I've enjoyed my college experience thus far. There are really interesting people all around me - people who have completely different perspectives than I; and they're from every state in the country and every country in the world. Professors and deans wander the campus, occasionally stopping a wandering freshman to ask their name, where they're from, and what interests they have. Indeed, the professors themselves are fascinating. Already, I have had the opportunity to hear a lecture on "The Paradoxes of Interactive Media" which made me think more about the technological world around us and how it functions at a marketing level. Oh, and my dorm is pretty dang cool too.

Yes, college is different, but I think I like it here.

Years of Spanish Classes Haven't Failed Me

For the last five days, I've been living in Oaxaco, Mexico where the official, preferred, and only language spoken is Spanish. Signs are in Spanish, taxi drivers only speak Spanish - even workers at the Dirección de Turismo (Office of Tourism) can't understand English! This immersion in Spanish has been such a wonderful opportunity for me to improve, practice, and utilize my Spanish in an environment that requires it. Not to mention the fact that it is simply awesome when you can have a legitimate exchange with someone (a conversation that involves something other than asking for their name or for the time) in your second language. I absolutely love it. Thank goodness for my six years of Spanish classes, especially the last three with Señor Olsen. Without them, I'd be un americano estereotípico, perdido en un idioma extraño.

Lake Powell: Incredible, Beautiful, and Unforgettable

Four days after embarking on a journey to Lake Powell with four great friends (and two very cool chaperons), I came home with facial scruff, a new hairstyle, several sunburns, and wonderful memories. My time there was unforgettable.

I had never been to Lake Powell before this last week. For those of you that are unfamiliar with it, Lake Powell is a huge reservoir that fills a series of canyons in southern Utah and northern Arizona. The sight of a canyon flooded with water is, without any exaggeration, majestic. Steep and smooth red rock canyon walls hundreds of feet tall fall perpendicularly and contrastingly into the lake's deep blue, shifting waters. Zooming on a speedboat over endless waves with the wind blowing through my hair as the spectacular scene completely encompassed me was breathtaking in the word's fullest meaning.

This vision of beauty was nearly constant. In the morning, we were greeted by the new day as the sun rose softly over the canyon and water, casting rays of pink and orange throughout the sky. During the daytime, the magnificent work of both man and nature was clear under the sun's bright gaze until it disappeared behind the red rock mountains at night, gracing us with colorful and vibrant sunsets. After the sun had departed, stars would poke themselves through the clouds while the moon shone as brilliantly as a lantern in the midst of nightfall.

As gorgeous as the canyon-enfolded lake was, the trip was made truly special by the people I experienced it with. Rarely have I felt so close to a group of people as I do to the four friends with whom I spent those four days. We water skied, skipped rocks, named ducks, swam and floated in the water, roasted marshmallows and Starbursts, explored Native American ruins, and belted out a Capella renditions of songs. We talked about everything from personal mannerisms and country music to our thoughts on life and the future. A dynamic of complete openness allowed for both the funniest and most thoughtful of moments.

This trip was unbelievable, exemplifying a perfect blend of the beauties of nature and friendship. Even only three days removed, I can tell that I will always reflect on my time at the picturesque Lake Powell as an incredible time spent with great friends.