Welcome to Gaia! ::

More funky remedies, thanks to Twi for a killer brainstorming session. blaugh Anyone want a little help from the Manticore Apothecary?

and I will back you up, because mistreating animals is not ok. just plain not ok. and everyone here should be made aware of what is and isn't a good cure for any kind of illness or unwell-being.

Interesting, can you say anything about the song 'shoo* (apparently it's shew... not shoo) fly don't bother me'? i don't know if that's the name of it, but the part i know goes something like this:
Shew fly don't bother me
shew fly don't bother me
shew fly don't bother me
I belong to somebody
I feel
I feel
I fell like the morning star

etc.

Could be, but apparantly it's only a cut-out version from the full song, which apparantly was racist or something... not entirely sure, but I had a theory it has something to do with the old southen slaves, as a "shew fly" was a person who... either helped or caught the slaves who tried to run away, and the 'morning star', which could refer to the sun, etc., was back then also known as the northern star that lead the slaves to freedom... actually putting it together probably just doesn't make sense but... meh.

Protesting in Panties:SLUT WALKS

Women deserve to be safe from violent assault, no matter what they wear. And the sad fact is, a miniskirt is no more likely to provoke a rapist than a potato sack is to deter one.

“Don’t tell us how to dress. Tell men not to rape.”

This is my Personal Satement for my Colorado State University application. Could I get another set of eyes on it please? I just want to know how it flows. Does it hook you in? Does it make sense? Am I pandering or wining or being cliche? If you were accepting applications to the 3rd best Vet Med school in the states, would you accept me?

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Sailing Without Wind

My mother enrolled me in sailing class for my 12th summer, probably because she didn’t know what else to do with me and wanted me out of the house for a while. My father took the opportunity for some father-daughter bonding when I was 18 and signed us both up for the United States Power Squadron Sailing Safety course. So when I applied to be a sailing instructor at my church’s youth camp in Coniston, United Kingdom, they enthusiastically accepted me as the junior instructor. My job was to take out a small group of campers on the lake and teach them the basics of steering with a rudder and avoiding the boom as it swung across the deck.

One tranquil morning, my campers faced the challenge every sailor dreads: calm waters. Not so much as the slightest breeze stirred the surface. Pushing off from the shore had propelled us part way into the lake, but left us stranded and motionless. Many of the other sailing teams were paddling with hands and feet, and one camper had volunteered to jump overboard and pull his boat as he swam. On my boat, we didn’t even get wet. Instead, I turned the tiller over to one of the campers, instructed the others to tighten all the sails and lines so that the boom and mainsail didn’t swing. Then I stood close to the main mast and rocked the boat.

The hull of a sailboat is beautifully designed so that any pressure on the sail generates forward momentum. By rocking the boat in long, sweeping motions, the main sail caught enough air to push us forward. Soon, my crew and my ship were not exactly surging across the bounding mane, but we were certainly moving faster than any other sailboat on the lake. Other teams called us cheaters, but by the end of morning, nearly every team was copying our method of propulsion.

This wasn’t the first—or the last—time I’ve had to charge forward without the supporting wind of family or finances or serendipity.

In high school, my pony developed acute laminitis. My veterinarian gave me some phenylbutazone (a commonly prescribed pain killer) and grimly informed me that if and when the pony’s condition worsened, I would have no choice but to put her down. Dissatisfied with this prognosis, I started researching horse hoof health. I knew my veterinarian had done everything by the book, so I looked for a new book. I rocked the boat with all my might, researching alternative pain remedies, nutrition, exercise, hoof care, and gastrointestinal biochemistry. When I called the vet out for the next annual checkup, he couldn’t believe it was the same pony. My hard work and out-of-the-box thinking had turned her health around. I knew she would never be perfectly sound, and she would never be worth much more than a pasture pet, but at least she could run again.

Shortly after I turned 20, I discovered I was pregnant. My parents hated my then-boyfriend, so he and I eloped in Las Vegas. That really rocked the boat. For three years we were stuck on the treadmill of merely scraping by. We were living on love, and while we had a lot of love between the three of us, we were not really going anywhere. We had no wind in our sails to give us forward momentum. So I rocked the boat; I went back to school.

Anyone can look at a me and see a working mom with a low-paying dead-end job striving to achieve higher education. What they don’t see is someone willing to do whatever it takes to move forward. I’m a published author and a certified scuba diver. I’ve traveled from Hawaii to London. I’m a mother, a wife, a student, and a volunteer. I have never taken the path of least resistance when there was a more interesting avenue. And I do not balk at rocking the boat to move forward.

It's still too long. It should be 400-500 words, and I'm nearly double that. Also I feel like I'm using too much field-specific lingo and dropping in too many extras in the last paragraph. What should I cut?

New Draft of my Personal Statement! I think it's finally short enough (if you don't include the title).

Thoughts please?

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Sailing Without The Wind

Life never seems to go according to plan, and sometimes it just doesn’t go at all. Obvious preconceptions like “a sail boat needs wind to move” are not always true or even practical. When apathy and mediocrity take root, the only way out is to shake things up and rock the boat.

My mother enrolled me in summer sailing classes for my 12th summer, probably because she didn’t know what else to do with me and wanted me out of the house. I can’t remember a time when I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) swim, so it made sense to put me on a boat. One summer’s distraction turned into four and a lasting pastime. My father, romanced by boats his whole life, took the chance to bond over a fixer-upper sail boat and signed us both up for the United States Power Squadron Sailing Safety course. We christened the boat the “Amanda Lynn,” added a few coats of barnacle-resistant paint on her hull, replaced turnbuckles, patched sails, and (finally) took to sailing away summer afternoons in Boundary Bay, between Washington and British Columbia.

So when I applied to be a sailing instructor at my church’s youth camp in Coniston, United Kingdom, they enthusiastically accepted me as the junior instructor. My task was to take out a small group of campers on the lake and teach them the basics of steering with a rudder and avoiding the boom as it swung across the deck.

One tranquil morning, my campers faced the challenge every sailor dreads: calm waters. Not so much as the slightest breeze stirred the surface. Pushing off from the shore had propelled us part way into the lake, but left us stranded and motionless. Other sailing teams were paddling with hands and feet, and one camper jumped overboard to pull his boat as he swam. On my boat, we didn’t even get wet. Instead, I turned the tiller over to one of the campers, instructed the others to tighten all the sails and lines so that the boom and mainsail didn’t swing. Then I broke two of the most common admonitions given to beginning boaters: I stood up and (holding on to the main mast) rocked the boat.

The hull of a sailboat is designed so that any pressure on the sail generates forward momentum. By rocking the boat in long, sweeping motions, the main sail caught enough air to push us forward. Soon, my crew and my ship were not exactly surging across the lake, but we were certainly moving faster than any of the other sailboats.

This wasn’t the first—or the last—time I’ve had to press forward with unconventional ideas and without the supporting wind of family or finances or serendipity. I have never taken the path of least resistance when there was a more interesting avenue. Life doesn’t provide fair winds for every destination, and sometimes you need to rock the boat to get back on course.