Changes! --Raiffa S.

Every few months or so I have an epiphany. But its always the same one. Maybe each time I realize it I try to quickly block it out of my memory as to make it nonexistent. But anyways, the epiphany occurred to me again recently.

Girls aren’t funny.

They just aren’t. Well more like not funny compared to guys but what else are you gonna compare it to? A cat?

Well if you did they’d probably beat us out.

And I’m not trying to be all feministy “down with the patriarchy, let’s all take off our shirts” kinda thing but I kinda am. Boys are funnier just because they are boys.

A girl cannot be funny unless they are an established comedian and impressively funny or acting dumb, like a ditzy dumbass. But a guy can show up somewhere in a dress and it’s the funniest thing ever.

So my job in taking on this new shirtless matriarchal soldier is to propose a solution.

Why don’t we integrate and require humor classes in our schools to teach students the correct sense of humor. These classes would begin as early as reading and writing to develop our children correctly. Of course we would start their studies out with fundamentals like pain is funny, repeating something thrice is funny, and something out of the ordinary is funny. Then, once we build the solid foundation, we can introduce more advanced topics like sarcasm. With a standardized curriculum of humor each person will develop an indistinguishable sense of humor.

Now these classes are not directly geared toward raising the future comedians of our world, but to create those who will accurately judge the comedy of others. No more will gender or race or age be an issue if we educate those on what is actually funny and what is not. Everyone will understand exactly what is humorous and as long as a comedian executes the techniques taught in the school lessons they will be successful in obtaining that roaring crowd of laughter.

With my proposed solution not only will this solve the various inequalities blended into our world but we will help our children be in tune with their creative sides. Taught alongside math and English, these humor classes will create generally well rounded individuals who are blind to discrimination. 

Changes! -Kayla Beebout

In 2013, the IRS was charged with targeting certain nonprofit organizations applying for tax-exempt status based on their names or political leanings.  However, when Lois Lerner, a leading official in the controversy, was called to the Capitol for an investigation, key emails relating to the scandal had disappeared.   According to her, the emails and several other important records were lost when her computer crashed in 2011.  The government has a long history of such important records and emails being “lost” through computer failures or poor record-keeping.

Of course, this can be used for the public good.  People worry constantly about the privacy and security of their computerized records and documents.  I propose that if someone is worried that their documents are going to be compromised, then that person can send them through a government server.  Then, whenever others search for the documents, they will have disappeared.  Emails detailing unsavory transactions, social media posts that the posters later regret, Internet searches; all can be conveniently lost from the servers and thus hidden from the public eye.  No longer will citizens have to worry about their information being transmitted over mass media.  No longer will they have to worry about corporations exploiting their Internet histories.  It will all have vanished.

This can benefit the government as well.  If it begins to charge a fee for sending documents through its servers to be lost, then these funds can be used to lower the national debt and fund federal programs that have suffered from recent spending cuts.  Creating new servers to run the records through and making sure the records are lost will create new government jobs, stimulating the economy.  Public trust in the government will benefit, because citizens will no longer worry about the government spying on their computer activities.

All around, I believe that this scheme will benefit the people of America to an enormous extent.  There is but one caution.  Apparently, there is some chance that these records might be recovered.  At least, the IRS emails have re-appeared, despite protests that they were permanently lost.

Assignment 13: Changes!--Amir Abou-Jaoude

Collaboration is the mother of innovation. Collaboration is what drove Borromini and Bernini to create artistic masterpieces, Strauss and Hofmannsthal to develop some of the greatest operas of all time, and Wilder and Brackett to make some of the most memorable movies of the 20th-century. In fact, the ability to work with others and the skill to build on someone's else's ideas are talents essential to success.

It is imperative that this group spirit be encouraged. Some educators have been exemplary in fostering collaboration. Recently, I heard tell of a student in the 8th grade. Apparently, he was to write a paper analyzing the allegories in Leo Tolstoy's novella The Forged Coupon. In writing the paper, the student copied Tolstoy's exact text directly into the body of his essay. This is an example of collaboration, for, in this case, a pact existed between Tolstoy and the student. Tolstoy, though dead, worked together with the student on the paper. Needless to say, the final result received an A plus.

I bring to your attention to yet another example--a senior in an American high school proved unable to finish his algebra homework on his own. Yet, the assignment needed to be done--what would this befuddled youth do? The solution was simple, as a trusted friend provided him with his finished calculus homework. The student then rushed to his seat, and rapidly began transcribing the completed assignment. He was only doing what Egyptian scribes and medieval ascetics had done--he was creating a carbon copy. Collaboration--between the student and his friend--ultimately led to a result beneficial to both parties. The student passed the homework check, while his friend did as well.

There are those that call into question the morality of this practice. There are those that, confronted with the Tolstoy paper or the calculus homework, would decry it as a forged piece of work, and immediately discard yet. While I fully understand their concerns, there is only so much an individual can do on his own. The other half of the collaborative pair is necessary for full success. As the poet John Donne said "no man is an island," and indeed, people, especially students, need to be supported by their fellow comrades.

Brave educators have already taken steps to eradicate the somewhat arcane mentality. The presence of constant collaboration in the classroom need not disrupt an educational environment--rather, the activity can simply be condoned. Exemplary professionals, such as she who accepted the Tolstoy paper and he who approved of the algebra homework, have shown a deep understanding of the value of collaboration.

There are those who would call this type of collaboration cheating or plagiarism, but these terms raise an interesting dilemma. Isn't everything based on a precedent? Isn't dishonesty common in our society? After all, as the old adage goes, isn't the best form of flattery imitation?

Do you know your neighbor? Johnathan Morris

Coming from Edythe J. Hayes middle school I am accompanied by very few of my fellow schoolmates in the academy, so coming in I had very few friends inside said academy. This statement is still for the most part true. Most of my friendships live elsewhere so I am typically quiet and keep to myself. This being said I sit next to Skylar, who I believe this is our first class together but I could be wrong because honestly I don't really remember. Setting that aside I do know somethings about my neighbor, for instance I know she is currently in a relationship with Cole Terrell, a fellow member of the baseball team who I have known for about 4 years now. I also know that she is in the soccer team, and that's about it. Although I don't know much about her personal life I do know that she is very friendly and will try to talk to me even though I'm not the easiest person to have a conversation with. She also compliments my shoes a lot so yeah there's that.

Brave Little Toasters - Taylor Stewart

A zipping noise awakens me. Light peeks through my otherwise dark enclosure, and I am lifted up into the scholarly world. My owner, she uncaps me - how scandalous! And suddenly my ink is being poured out as words scrawled on a page. After a few sentences, I am put down. The process repeats itself until I'm zipped back into my home, awaiting the promise of another use. 

I love my owner, of course, but our love is fleeting. Eventually, like the many others of my kind, I will run out of ink. She seems to rely on this, and once my supply is depleted, she'll throw me in the trash like I have no feelings. 

Brave Little Toasters-Sydney Taylor

I don't have too many responsibilities and though I perform them to the best of my abilities, I still seem to receive uncalled-for abuse from my owner. Every day at six a.m. I beep for a few minutes until my owner drags herself out of bed to walk over to me and slam a button ending the beeping. She mutters various complaints about the hour under her breath which I usually assume are directed at me as the sole inhibitor of her beauty sleep. And, though she placed me across the room in order to ensure she has to get up, she crawls back under her covers for a few minutes before eventually rising to conquer the day. The only friend I have to keep me company during the day is the space heater that sits near me and together we wait out the days, living for the few minutes of each one that we provide service to our owner. Though she never voices it, I know my owner appreciates everything I do and that's what keeps me going day to day. 

Assignment 13: Changes!

Think of all of the things and ideas that exist in the world.

Which one bothers you the most?

Think on Jonathan Swift's "Proposal" and write your own satiric solution to your troublesome issue.

First I would spend some time watching and or reading a great deal of satire to get into in the mental mode satire requires.

Minimum of 150 words - due Sunday, November 23rd at 11:59 pm

Man is this kid stupid, my car probably thinks. The poor thing is probably in desperate need of service by now due to my lackluster driving skills and lack of money. The brakes are beginning to whine and it makes a really creepy cricket-esque noise constantly, source unknown. It probably suffers from near-daily heart attacks once again because of my lack of ability to see the road. Mostly it's probably just bored all the time. It sits forlorn and cold out on the curb each day waiting for me go somewhere or finally clean it up. It's also probably still mad at me for that time I left the lights on in the Panera parking lot and the battery died when it was pouring rain. Yes, in the few months this car has been in my possession it's had some adventures, and hopefully it will continue to be nice to me despite my poor yet loving treatment of it.

Brave Little Toasters- Mikaela Gatewood

She stares.

All she does is stare. Whether it's to poke a small black wand in her eye or to fix the crazy amount of fluff around her head, she continually stares. It's an intimidating fixation, her eyes never relenting the self critical gaze that passes my front every day. It's a daily examination of what needs to be fixed, prodding and fidgeting until the acceptable look is achieved. She studies her own features like an art student studying a painting, often spending more time than necessary analyzing. The occasions when she isn't adjusting herself, but instead flitting around cleaning or gathering her clothes off the floor, her eyes are usually drawn back for small fractions of time. Her fascination doesn't quite resemble vanity, more as it does curiosity. An inevitable desire to see herself as the world sees her, never fully wrapping her head around the image she gives off. She achieves nothing by doing this, but seeks everything by looking. It's a strange existence; a girl so caught up in what the world sees all she does is look at herself. But I suppose that's what mirrors are for, right?

Brave Little Toasters - Keanu Gomez

Why do I feel so feverish? It’s so hot in here! I really need a break. I am a 5 year old, red HP Pavilion g6 laptop and I am overused. Ever since I was bought by this stupid boy I’ve been working nonstop. Well, I get to take a break ever night usually. But I work for really long periods of time during the day. Sometimes my body gets really hot, so my owner bought a cooling pad for me. Yeah, it’s pretty comfortable.  But anyways, I feel really awkward when my owner uses me. He seriously stares at me for like 2 hours straight. I think he’s watching some sort of movie or playing some game. It’s kind of funny when he types though, it really tickles. My life is pretty boring. I’m usually just stuck somewhere in the house and I barely get to explore the world. But, I really like it when we travel because he always takes me with him. I’ve been to Florida, Tennessee, South Carolina, and New York. It’s not really much but at least it’s something. Sometimes I get jealous of his phone because it seems like he likes it more than me. I always see him bring it everywhere. I’ve said enough, I’m going to sleep now…shutting down.

Brave Little Toasters-- Raiffa

Louis.

Louis, Louis, Louis. My faithful friend Louis.

When I first met you, you looked so beautiful casually hanging out with your friends. Compared to them you were smaller and less stylish but my eye caught you first. There were definitely others more worthy of my desire but I chose you. Mostly because my dad approved but that’s beside the point.

I took you home in ill-fitting clothes but you looked content to have someone who wanted to call you their own. I was ecstatic to just have the chance to hold you.

I read up on articles, I watched videos, I downloaded apps, I spent hour after agonizing hour figuring out how to treat you perfectly. Once I felt confident enough, I took you to school to show you off. You hung out with the big dogs and held your own (for the most part) but I knew you had more potential locked into your dark, handsome body. I just had to get it out of you.

I think these were your favorite times. The times I could stay up all night and wake up early in the morning to make time for you. We worked hard on projects that never came to life. You made me feel like a true rock star.

But then I replaced you with nameless others. They started to take up more of my time. I started to neglect you and you had to spend weeks, months before you ever heard from me again. You might’ve been jealous because the new apples of my eye were bigger than you and they sounded better than you and they didn’t physically injure me with their rough edges. But you were the only one who could do what you did. They could pretend to be you but they really couldn’t replace you. I know saying this now won’t ease your mind but it’s worth just saying how much you really meant to me.

After introducing you to new friends and attempting to reintroduce you into my life it just wasn’t the same and one day I just forgot you were there.

Now you’re gone. And I’ll never forget you.

So here’s an apology to you Louis.

Louis the Ukulele, the very first instrument I ever owned, I’m sorry I stepped on you.

Love Raiffa. 

Assignment 12: Brave Little Toasters--Amir Abou-Jaoude

A few weeks ago, my English folder snapped it two. The folder, made of cardboard, featured an illustration of the Justice League on the front flap. It cost only fifty cents. Its breakdown was gradual. In late September, the edges of the folder began to tear. Then, the pockets became worn. Its spine slowly fell apart, the two parts of the folder separated by an ever increasing rift.

I was partly responsible for its demise. I should have cleaned it out from time to time---I should have removed the packet of timed writings, the endless photocopies, the storyboards for my film class, and my useless notes. Alas, I failed in this task. Every time I opened it and stuffed it full of more papers, I would hear a groan--the pockets of the folder bulging as they couldn't contain the workload. As it became more and more full, it would whisper to me when I opened it. "Amir," it would say as I rifled through the papers, "why are you doing this to me? Why are you doing this to me?" I would ignore its cry, and the folder would be further doomed to misery.

I could see that the folder was making an effort to hold it together, to continue to be used in my day-to-day routine. The five heroes of the Justice League--Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, and the Flash--they tried to hold in the stack of papers. I could see a shift in their faces. As each day wore on and as more papers polluted the folder, their smiling expressions turned sour. Superman's brow furrow as he tried to bear the burden of English class, Batman seemed ready to retire, and Wonder Woman glared up at me, echoing the folder's incessant call.

Finally, the fateful day came and the last piece of the folder's spine gave way. Now it was not one folder but two broken halves. The papers had finally outsmarted the folder. The Justice League had failed to complete its mission. It was over. In the aftermath, I finally completed the task of taking the old papers out of the folders. I could hear a faint cry as I did so--"Amir, why didn't you do this when I was still healthy?" I chose not to answer. The papers emptied, I took the broken folder and dumped it into the garbage can. The faces of the Justice League stared up at me.

I replaced that folder with another folder, this one featuring The Avengers. It fulfills the function of the old folder. And yet, sometimes I still hear the voices of the Justice League, calling back to me. The folder is now at the bottom of a distant landfill, languishing below scores of rotten banana peels and broken laptops. Its cry is now too faint for me to hear, but I can still see the disappointed faces, peering up at me.

Brave Little Toasters- Kayla Beebout

Backpacks.  They’re like the pack mules of students everywhere.  I’ve had mine since second grade, so she’s been through quite a bit.  Her name is Lydia, like the housecarl in Skyrim.  Whenever I’m packing her in the mornings, she is probably groaning, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling, and saying unenthusiastically, “I’m sworn to carry your burdens…”  She probably wishes I’d carry some of the stuff myself.  She hates class changes.  I don’t blame her—first, I make her carry all my books, then I sling her over my shoulder and merge into the chaotic hallways where she is always being bumped around and run into.  Bus rides aren’t much fun for her either.  Have you ever sat on the floor of a school bus?  It’s not an easy life, I’m sure.  She likes my classes fine, though.  She just gets to sit there, leaning forward a bit to compensate for the heavy books, and only has to worry about me accidently kicking her.  Which, unfortunately, happens fairly often.  What can I say?  I have long legs.  Nights are probably her favorite time.  She can just relax for a few hours, getting ready for the next day.  Wait, no, her favorite times are probably weekends, because then she gets two whole days off!  I think in the summer she hibernates, like the opposite of a bear or something.  She’s really tough, and really dependable, but I doubt she likes her job very much. 

The Piano- My dearest friend

Most days I dwell in that crevice of these infernal creatures's abode near the end of the hallway. Often throughout the day, I squat and bide my time as they pass by. Their activities keep them preoccupied, but still I am too afraid to make any move. Several years ago they disposed of my dear friend the couch because he would get chatty even when they were present. He'd groan and creak whenever they got near, often letting out persistent wails whenever used. The new fellow is nice, but somber, and I'm wary of succumbing to the same fate.
 In recent years, one of the smaller of the nimble inhabitants has taken to spending more and more time with me, often sitting in front of me and jabbing at face for over an hour.  It stirs my insides in ways I haven't felt for a considerable amount of time, but it grew tiresome. Often it'll go at it in the same pattern over and over again and I get sore. I've taken to leaving my stool out further and further and delighting in its howls when it scrapes or bruises an appendage-the sweet music of vengeance to my soundboard.  Still my actions provides no lasting impact. The dents on my frame do not disappear the same way it's do, and the brute persists in it's assault upon me day in and day out.  When the building grows dark and all it's inhabitants lie still, oh how I long to creep down the hallway and inside that far room this biped inhabits, but I fear I'd make too much of a ruckus and be discovered before I could crush it's horrid body forever.

Assignment 12: Brave Little Toasters- Keionna Bailey

My mom's car is the best thing in the world. Although its old, Bessie is the best because she's roomy. She will even take over while you're driving, you only have to push a button. And if you want to drive again she'll let you, all you have to do is push that button again. And if all you gradually brake the music will gradually go down too. If your back is hurting she will even warm it up for you with the seat warmer. These are all the things that Bessie does for me but I wonder what she will for herself?
Bessie does not like hills, every time we go up one she starts clankin and wants to stop, so she wouldn't go to Frankfort. But she would definitely go to the car lot to meet up with some of her friends because she's social. Whenever I am driving it just seems like she wants to hit everything. And she's dare devil. She would run a red light and stop signs because in Bessie's mind STOP means slightly tap on pedal. But Bessie is always thirsty, so of course she's always at that gas station, drinking $60 dollars worth of gas. Oh and she loves sports so she would go support her good bud Herbie at the race track.

Do you know your neighbor? Jesse Konopka: Assignment 11

Personally, I don't know that much about who I sit next to. Most of the time I'm a very shut in person. I'm sorry, but there's really not much more about this that I can write.

Brave Little Toasters- Jessica Nelson

I'd imagine that if my porcelain 2-foot tall doll ever came to life the first thing she would do is have tea with Satan. She is certainly dressed for the occasion, in a long black proper dress, with the pale skin of a corpse, and beady eyes that seem joyless. Then she'd put her idle hands and cold heart to use for the dark side and burn down a church or cut the break line on a train. She's always had a talent for scaring children (or 16 year olds if my room is dark enough) so she'll put the cherry on top of her perfect day by breaking into a daycare and making some 4 year olds wail for their mothers while snacking on all their Cheerios (with a side of their souls) for dinner. Unfortunately for her until her lucky day comes (or the day when someone finally bites on the Craigslist ad) she will remain detained my closet.

Do you know your neighbor?-Sydney Taylor

Though everyone in our middle table squad is awesome, I know Raiffa the best so I'm dedicating this blog post entirely to her. 

I can't pinpoint the day or moment that Raiffa and I became friends and I think it's because it's just so easy to be friends with her that it just happens naturally and you don't even notice. I do however recall the two weeks we spent together at summer gym, running(shuffling quickly) around the track and frantically dodging oncoming footballs while discussing music and the academy. She made exercising during summer break much more bearable.

The thing I admire most about Raiffa is her unique and amusing outlook on everything. I always enjoy reading her blog posts, because they're so creative and funny. She views the prompts in ways I never even think about. Example being last weeks post about the zombie apocalypse, only she would think to detail a plan of rising through the ranks of the ZOMBIE army.

If Raiffa were a color I think she would be turquoise, because it's bright and happy, and it's impossible to dislike turquoise.

Besides being super smart, stunningly beautiful, and one of the kindest people I've ever known, Raiffa has an unmatched knack for puns. I live for the days she posts a punny picture on instagram.

I don't really know what Raiffa plans to do for college or a career after, but I personally think she would excel at writing for a funny tv show somewhere along the lines of How I Met Your Mother or Saturday Night Live so she can share her humor with a bigger audience.

So Raiffa, props to you for being an awesome person and friend!! 

Assignment 12: Brave Little Toasters

In Toy Story, the inanimate comes to life and engages in more exciting adventures than most people have. In the Brave Little Toaster, a toaster gathers together enough strength and courage to fight off the most ferocious household objects.

And Marcel...well Marcel the Shell can't do much at all, but he attempts to make the most out of his small world.

This week, choose your favorite inanimate item and describe a day/moment/adventure in their life. Imagine their point of view and how they would see the world.

Minimum of 150 words - due Sunday, November 16th at 11:59 pm

Do you know your neighbor? Tora Sellers

            Charlie’s been a close friend since middle school. We’ve done a lot of exciting things together, and we’ve always had fun. His is much more outgoing than I am, and much more open to conversation. We don’t necessarily have opposite personalities, since we share many interests, but he tends to be an extrovert as opposed to me, who is much more introverted. Despite our differences in personality, he is someone who I can be comfortable around. We talk on a daily basis at school, which results in us being warned to be quiet by Ms. Elkins on a daily basis as well. 

Assignment 11 Ian Harrison

Being from a school that sent probably an amount of people I can count on two hands to Henry Clay as well as naturally a bit shy in new situations, I actually don't know my neighbors all that well, so I'll have to wing it a bit here. I know Andrew most so I'll just write what I know about him. He's a pretty smart guy, and we share interests in music and film, so we sometimes bounce opinions off each other and give each other recommendations. We can have pretty interesting discussions about these kinds of things that I always enjoy In the classes we've had together, he's usually been a big help as he's much more organized and hard-working than me. I can definitely see him succeeding in college, probably with some sort of arts or english major. Andrew's probably a darker blue or red, because he can be very intelligent but still pretty fun. He's very much a cat.

Do you know your neighbor? --Raiffa

I wasn’t really sure who to write about for this assignment since all of us in our little table quad have all kinda bonded through the year, I’ve decided to write about none other but Sydney Taylor (who was the person I sat next to in the original arrangement).

I honestly can’t remember when exactly Sydney and I shared that defining friendship moment, it was probably freshman biology cause that was one crazy ride but also Sydney is just that person you are just friends with. Which is great cause I actually really wanted to get to know her cause she seemed …cool and she knew a lot of people. It kinda felt like that person who you’re like man I wish I was them and since I’m not I wish I could just be their friend. Y’feel?

Also have you seen Sydney? She’s absolutely gorgeous. Like hair game strong. Her Instagram makes me feel inferior.

Also she’s funny and appreciates humor (including mine for some unknown reason). If you just wanna casually joke about how much you hate something/don’t wanna be somewhere I recommend her.

I would probably characterize Sydney as a cat. Like not one of those evil antisocial cats that are reminiscent of the spawn of satan but like a nice cat. Like a really nice cat.

So you go Sydney! I’m glad your last name is close to mine and thanks for being a friend :) 

Do you know your neighbor? Taylor Stewart

Thomas Stokes is my seat buddy. 

I've known him since I started at Clay - we briefly sat next to each other in freshman biology, and have had Spanish class together the past two years. We have the same initials, which is cool. In a word, I would describe him as friendly or affable. Thomas is easy to talk to, and I've never seen him act negatively toward anyone. He's very approachable - pretty much my opposite. He is humble, and often downplays his skills. Example: Spanish. Thomas refuses to take AP, because he's "terrible at it." I respect his decision of course, but the guy is actually better than many of the students in our class.

As a color, Thomas is most definitely green. In five years he will probably be homeless. 

I'm kidding about that! He'll be graduating college and looking forward to a successful career. I'm positive that he could be successful in anything he wanted - he just has that caliber of personality.  

I'm glad I am able to sit next to Thomas, and it is refreshing to be able to start the day with someone so nice. You dig?

Do you know your neighbor?

Keanu sits to left of me every day. I don't really know a lot about him, but I do know he's probably one of the smartest people I know. It always seems like he's super focused, and whenever a vocab test comes up I always study the words with him because he's always got the list of words on him. If I could describe Keanu in one color, it would probably be green. Green because I feel like Keanu is the man that's gonna get a lot of money in the future. Like crazy money. Good on him. I bet his job will be like, saving people's lives in some kind of medical field, or some kind of robotics. Either way I feel like he is the kind of guy to help people, and that combined with his smarts is probably gonna get him some real, heavy, American Dollar bills.

When I first came to Henry Clay from
a tiny private school, I didn't know anyone and I felt a little bit shy in most of my classes. I didnt have any friends yet and I was envious of the people who had friends from middle school. As shy as I was, it was hard for me to fit myself into one of the preexisting friend groups. My freshman year in my Biology class (and most of my classes as a matter of fact) I met Rachel Lush. She was and is nothing like me. I doubt that we have anything in common, but the one thing that stuck out was that she was nice to me. When everyone else was into their own thing, Rachel would always address me, often in a playfully dumb way, but still it was a bit of a life saver having that one extra nice and friendly person. I now know that Rachel was just being how she is: Loud, silly, unfiltered. To some, this exuberance may come off as ditzy or frivolous, but I know that it's just a product of unfiltered friendliness. Since then, because our last names are so close together and we end up in the same classes and testing rooms together, we've developed what I would consider to be a grudging friendship. She says dumb things to get a rise out of me and I play along and act like she's an idiot( even though she definitely isn't). Rachel and I have nothing in common, and yet because of the kindness that she has shown, I have a deep respect and admiration for her. Plus, she does killer cat eye eyeliner, I don't how she does it but I'm impressed.

Do You Know Your Neighbor? - Keanu Gomez

Jacob Faulkner and I have known each other since middle school. He has a great laid-back and carefree personality. Although we don’t really talk much, sometimes we have these short, small conversations about random things. But one of the most unique things I have learned about him is his talent for drawing. There is probably not a single piece of paper Jacob has ever touched that doesn’t have a small doodle or drawing. You will see a little cartoon-like figure somewhere on his paper. Seeing his talent and creativity sometimes makes me amazed because I do not have a single creative bone in my body. When I get asked to draw something, the result is nothing more than a stick figure. Yes, definitely the complete opposite of Jacob. If I were to choose a color that represents him it will be blue because of his calm and cool personality.  Honestly, I don’t know him well enough to predict his future, but I see him having some sort of job that puts his creativity to use.

Do you know your neighbor?- Mikaela Gatewood

I have the opportunity of sitting next to Andrew Hardy. Not because our last names happen to be next to each other, but because when I switched seats with Keanu, Mr. Logsdon didn't say anything. None the less, being able to sit next to Andrew makes this assignment infinitely easier. It's no secret that Andrew and I are dating, and have been for the past 9 months. I would safely say that he knows me best, and I hope I'm able to say the same about him. I don't think I could ever fully know or understand him, but I can give a pretty good description of what he's like.

He likes art, and almost all forms of it. You can tell this by listening to him talk about the hundreds of movies he's watched, seeing the countless amounts of books he has scattered around his house, or the simple fact that he has 7,000 songs on his iPod. He likes playing piano and guitar, and often times gets jittery (more so than he usually is) if he hasn't played one of the two in a couple days. He's a Quaker, and is fairly involved with it, as he travels around the country going to various events and meetings. I know that it's had a big impact on him and his morals as well as his thought processes. The friends that he's made there are his closest, and are most likely the ones he will remain in contact with for the rest of his life.

But even more than describing Andrew as being interested in art or being a Quaker, I would tell you that he's probably the most curious person I know. He's continuously trying to learn and experience new things. Whether it's spending hours on Wikipedia, looking up words, or researching various philosophical ideas, Andrew's constantly striving for a better understanding of the world around him. He has a whole list of places to go and things to do within his lifetime. Already he's had some pretty crazy experiences, many of which I know that I'll never live up to. But it's because of this curiosity, and more so its subsequent adventures, that he's generally more mature than most people I know. While I'm aware that Andrew can be loud and sometimes a little bit childish (as almost all 16 year olds can be), the way he approaches challenges in his life or his overall morals and beliefs is astonishingly grown up. I can truthfully say I've learned a lot from him, and have grown from our relationship. And even once high school's over I genuinely hope we stay in contact, as I'm sure he'll up to some pretty interesting stuff.

Charlie Payne, Do you know your neighbor?

Tora is a bro, to say the least. I've known Tora since middle school, and he and I were part of a squad in eighth grade that went to Occupy Wall Street demonstrations and skipped class to hang out in the library and talk about music and other strange things. I still consider Tora a really good friend. He is totally relaxed and laid back about most things, yet remains one of the smartest people I know. Unlike many people I know, he is fairly reserved about his interests, and won't usually mention them unless asked. Despite this, Tora's interests are impassioned and intelligent, and he certainly has a lot to say about them.

Assignment 11: Do you know you neighbor?--Amir Abou-Jaoude

Every week in English, we have a vocabulary quiz. We "trade-and-grade" and the person charged with marking up my paper is my seat partner, Mia Alexander. When I do well on the quiz, she usually writes "Great Job!" "Fantastic!" or doesn't use any words at all, but draws a big smiley face.

I admire Mia's positivity. She's a person who has a myriad of things to worry about--this year, she's taking challenging courses, like chemistry, physics, and calculus among others. This workload has caused her to become a "workaholic." On top of her rigorous schedule, Mia works two jobs outside school for a paycheck. She's haunted by her perpetual procrastination--and she's trying to work on improving this fault.

However, Mia does ensure that she has time to unwind and forget her hectic routine for a while. Pandora provides her with a way to relax, and she enjoys listening to all types of music on the online radio station, but she has a passion for the band The Roots. Netflix is another entertainment for Mia--she devours television shows like Gossip Girl, The Walking Dead, Scandal, and Once Upon a Time, and loves to watch Jimmy Fallon's late night broadcasts. In addition to Pandora and Netflix, Mia enjoys reading--currently, her favorite novel is Marcus Zusak's The Book Thief. She spends some time on social media sites, but likes to daydream too. An athlete, Mia plays basketball and tennis frequently.

Mia also has a passion for food. When I talked to her to generate some ideas for this post, she told me again and again to mention her love of food. In fact, her favorite holiday is Thanksgiving because of the cuisine that accompanies the day. Her favorite food group is at the top of the pyramid, and she has a notorious sweet tooth.

Despite her heavy workload and her chaotic schedule, Mia walks into class every morning with a smile on her face. She is an an optimist, and she transmits some of her positivity to me when I receive a smiley face on my vocabulary quiz.

Do You Know Your Neighbor? --Kayla Beebout

Keionna Bailey and I went to middle school together, and honestly, I’ve always admired her.  She has always seemed to have this confidence about her, a level of comfort with herself and others that I love.  I’ve always been a quieter sort, but she has always struck me as someone who loves people and just enjoys being with them.

Over the course of our time at Henry Clay, I have been able to get closer to Keionna.  It’s really a privilege to be with her, because she always has something to laugh about and is ready to be friends with just about anybody.  She’s one of those people who is popular in a good way—everyone just loves hanging out with her.  I think she’s hilarious; not a single day goes by in English class where she doesn’t make me laugh at least once.  Her spirit is evident in everything she does, and her energy influences the people around her.

Keionna is the kind of person who doesn’t have to try to be nice or funny or confident.  That’s just who she is.  She is honest about her opinions and is genuine in her friendships.  I know that whatever it is she ends up doing later in life, she will be successful.  She is easy to work with and is a natural leader.  When she steps up as a leader, though, she isn’t the bossy kind.  She is the kind who cares about the people she is working with and what she is working on, and knows how to get things done.  I’ve never heard anyone say anything bad about her, and trust me, that says a lot about her.  When everyone else is complaining or on the verge of giving up, she always has something to laugh about or some way to put things into perspective.  Working with her even made the dissections we had to do in freshman year bearable (and if you know much of anything about me, then you know what a big thing that is).

I’m really glad that I’ve been able to know Keionna over the years, and I’ve loved having classes with her and talking to her.  I know that she’s going to do great things later in life, and again, I really admire her personality and openness to others.  If you don’t really know her, you should definitely spend time with her, because she is one of the most genuinely great people I know.

Assignment 11:Do you know your Neighbor? -Keionna Bailey

    I've known of this girl since the 6th grade. I really didn't get a chance to know her until the last 2 years of middle school but since then I'm really glad that we have had that opportunity. Now that we have reached high school I have seen her grow into this amazing person that everyone already knew she was. I'm talking about Kayla Beebout.

     Kayla has to be the most cognizant and detail acute person that you will ever meet. Every day in class she will point something out to me that I had never noticed. And I love how she will comment funny little remarks and has great opinions on things. Another thing that I admire about Kayla is that she isn't arrogant. She knows that she's a great student and she doesn't feel the need to point out scores to you. She doesn't tell everyone how good she did on a test like other unmentionables in the Academy do. 

   Kayla has always been the standout English student. I think she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up as soon as she was born. I remember her carrying around her composition notebook in middle school writing in it every chance she got. But you could never ask her to read it because she always gave that deer in the headlights look of a NO. But that was ok because even though we weren't allowed to read it we knew that there was something amazing inside. This is still true today. You will never see Kayla without her notebook and I'm proud that she hasn't given up on her dreams and continues to pursue her writing career every day. 

  

Best. Prompt. Ever.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that I have spent the last 4ish years of my life planning for the zombie apocalypse. Strangely enough, I even dream about it. Often. I think that my planning and contemplation is a bit strange because I'm not a violent person in the slightest and I'm very anti gun, so those zombie tv shows are irritating to me(who uses a gun in a zombie apocalypse anyway, they make tons of noise which causes all of the zombies to flock to them.)
If I were to be stuck in a zombie apocalypse,  the first thing I would do is get myself a katana. They're silent but deadly. After righting my way through the hordes with my weapon of choice, I would snag a nice all wheel drive car with a full tank of gas and make my way to the nearest place with sail boats and an ocean. I would stock up on dry goods and
water then board the ship and make my way to the Solomon Islands where I would happily live my days perfectly zombie free( this only works with the hope that zombies can't swim, if they can? I'm out before it all starts.)

Andrew

I have the rare privilege of sitting next to the person of which my primary social interactions are with, and who's life in Henry Clay is the most interesting to me, Mikaela Gatewood. She's been living in Lexington for slightly over a year, and I've been dating her for nine months, so I care safely say I know her the best of anyone in our class, and even better then she might think I do-although I might not know her as well as I think I do.
Still, a considerable amount of her thoughts, reflections, and criticisms that  she avoids discussing even with our friend group, let alone the general classroom,end up in our conversations. Due to this she often appears timid and quiet to onlookers, and has even been the subject of some brutal attacks from members of our social group, although her opinions on this remain private. Far from a ferocious person, I'd argue there's still a spirit and vitality within her that is oft overlooked. She approaches her passions and problems with what I perceive (maybe more so then she does) is a ferocity that is-frankly-beautiful.
If asked, she might say that her interests are music, art, architecture, and creatures of the canine persuasion, but I'd extrapolate and simplify that her interests are life, in all it's complexities and marvels. She has a manner of viewing people and situations in life that is fascinating.  Our taste in music and medium has become increasingly divergent, but more so then a lot of my acquaintance and friends I understand her perspective. Not only do her opinions and thoughts feel honest and legitimate, but she has a manner of reinforcing them that's forced me to examine pieces I'd dismissed. Despite her rejection of my more dissonant musical interests, and small literary common ground, her thoughts, and the process by which she obtains them I find very relatable. After high school and college she's one of the three or four in our grade I'll remain curious about her life and thoughts, and plan in some manner to keep up with. I'd hate to admit the limitations of language, but Mikaela comes across as a person that cannot, or at least should not be described, as much as experienced.

Assingment 4-A World in Pictures Johnathan Morris

Although I was not alive when this event occurred, I still feel the pain when it is mentioned in conversation. This picture is of Christian Laettner, Duke legend and every UK fan's least favorite person. With seconds winding down in the final quarter, it appeared that the underdog Wildcats were going to pull off the upset to make their way into the Final Four in the 1992 NCAA tournament. After a full court pass from another Duke legend, Grant Hill, Laettner makes a mildly contested jumper. Doesn't sound that impressive, right? But this is a key moment that fueled Duke and Kentucky's large rivalry. It comes up in every argument about who's better whether the person was alive to see it or not. Duke still shows the play in their commercials, which really builds the tension between fans. This moment in time was devastating for die hard UK fans, who will never forgive Laettner for what he did, even though he said he had no problems with Kentucky basketball.

Do you know your neighbor- Jessica Nelson

Since I've only ever spoken to one of the people I sit next to I have no choice but to write about Charlie Payne (aka my “precal pal” for those of you who have had Mrs. Tallent). We have know each other since 5th grade but we've never really been friends. It's not that we don't like each other (at least on my part) we just kind of got stuck in the acquainted indifference zone.

When I saw his hipster couture makeover I thought he would fit with what I usually associate with that type of look (unfortunately this is a school assignment so you will have to use your imagination here), but he really isn't, he just has an effortless cool and relaxed vibe that I can only dream of accomplishing. He also has an effortless intelligence about him that is very impressive to me because it doesn't come easily to me and I wish I could be that naturally talented.

This probably accounts for our minimal conversation. As much as I think he would be an awesome person to get to know I always feel like there is nothing of value or interest I could ever say to him and without that I would just be an annoyance so I just avoid talking to him (and I have a quirk where if somebody has nice green or blue eyes I can't look them in the eye easily so I dodge eye contact with him like he is Medusa 90% of the time which isn’t helping). I also avoid certain music when I'm around him, I know music is a huge interest of his and he has this deeply developed musical interest so I feel so stupid listening to my horrible music near him (even though I know he doesn't give a damn what I'm listening to and probably will never notice what song I'm playing it just makes me feel better, which is good because even my more acceptable music choices are still bad). Other than that the only other things I really know about him are that he likes poetry/literature, intellectual debates, and Lucy. Oh well, I'm just grateful for someone to put up with my pleas for help in math and to save me in class discussions (because this year in English and APUSH I cannot seem to shut my mouth even when intelligent things stop coming out), so if you're reading this thank you and I very much appreciate the contradiction between the stereotype of your look and your kind and chill personality. In 5 years you will probably be successful in anything you chose to do because I have yet to see a weakness from you but if I had to guess I'd say you'll be something with a creative edge, maybe a philosophy professor (although that sounds a little boring for you), and living with Lucy, no kids or wedding ring though =) .

Assignment 11: Do you know your neighbor?

You are juniors. You are in the Academy. You sit next to each other in Mr. Logsdon's class. You've been here for 13ish weeks and only 5ish to go until the end of the semester.

I think it is safe to say that you know at least a little about each other. Your understanding of each other may include extra curriculars, favorite TV shows, hobbies, but your level of familiarity may also extend into knowing each other's personality. Are they intimidating, carefree, honest?

This week, write about the person you sit next to in English class. What do they do? What are they like? What color would you characterize them as and why? Where do you see them in five years? What type of animal are they like?

I know you're in a seating chart, but you are writing about your peers. Getting to know for the past few months, I have seen you as genuinely nice people and so I expect genuinely nice things in your posts. It doesn't have to be all puppies and ice cream cones, but your entries shouldn't cut anyone down.

Minimum of 150 words - due Sunday, November 11th at 11:59 pm.

Boo- Jessica Nelson

As I previously mentioned in at least 2 other blog posts (that’s got to be some kind of record right?) I have a slight fear of needles. I’ll admit slight is probably an understatement, it tends to range more on the side of all-consuming terror. I don’t know how this fear came about, and even more frustrating is that I cannot for the life of me think of a logical basis for the fear. Sure a few T.V. villains have presented a syringe filled with a green poison as the method of destruction for their foes but surely I have more sense than to believe that my doctor is trying to kill me.

               What scares me is my reaction to needles. I have been told my eyes glaze over, but all I know is I can’t produce a single thought as soon as an alcohol prep wipe touches my arm. I have screamed my head off and flailed to the point a doctor refused to do surgery on me, shoved my dentist, and punched a nurse. I am afraid I will hurt someone or endanger myself by not getting necessary shots when I am of age to make my own medical decisions. Is there an injection to fix that?

Boo-Sydney Taylor

For those of you that don't know, I am a huge fan of the The Walking Dead. I'm actually watching it as I'm writing this. But I spend a ridiculous amount of time laying out my plan for the inevitable zombie apocalypse and this is what it comes down to. Build the dream team. You need a leader(not me, I can't handle that stress), a doctor, a smart strategist, a moral compass, the typical for-lack-of-a-better-word badass, a nice but relatively weak person that transforms into the strongest, most important person in the group(this is me!), and a few filler people to give you a big, powerful squad to take on zombies with. Then you need to choose your weapon. A gun would seem like the most obvious choice, but they require ammo. If you've seen Disney's Rapunzel, however, they use a frying pan to assault people and that's what I would stick with to avoid the issue of ammo and have lots of power. Finally, your group has to find a system to sustain themselves, namely a place to call home and a set of rules to live by. Moving around seems to me to be the best course of action rather than trying to build a community in the midst of the mess that is the world just to almost certainly be let down by the destruction of the make-shift community. And as for rules, well they're meant to be broken. 

Assignment 10: Jacob Faulkner

It's the apocalypse, the zombies have finally arrived. My plan goes with probably living near the ocean, cause I do not know if zombies can swim or not. They however, probably drown. Eventually I would get on a house boat and live off of fishing, if things got too terrible. It would be the greatest thing ever if a bunch of survivors made like, a portable boat farm, where you could have crops and whatever you needed to live on a boat, and go out to sea. We'd call it, "The S.S. Traphouse," and it would be tight af. The only problem off the top of my head would be fuel, and I guess the number one counter to that is solar power, but I think that it would be hard to find a solar power boat in the zombie apocalypse. Of course, both scenarios are totally fiction, and not actually real.

BOO - Taylor Stewart

Well it's sunday night and i'm scared that i won't get this blog post done in time. Since Logsdon doesn't really care if they're late, I'll start thinking procrastination is okay. I won't study for chemistry until the night before, I won't rehearse for my Spanish speaking project, and I'll sleep instead of graphing polynomials. My grades will slowly decline - but do I really care anymore? I'm already a slacker. Slackers have bad grades. I've come to accept that. At the end of the semester I have C's and D's. But it's a'ight with me. Basically, C's are A's to me, so I've actually done very well. I pat myself on the back for this. The end of junior year comes and goes, I finish with a negative GPA. Ain't in the Academy no more. Cause ain't nobody got time fo dat. I just really honestly love McDonald's so much that I decide to drop out and work there. IT IS MY DREAM JOB. I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED EVERYTHING I COULD'VE POSSIBLY WANTED. College is for schmucks so I never consider going back to Clay to get my G.E.D. or anythang like that. Oh no McDonald's caught me pilfering the chicken nuggets. They fire me :(((. It's cool cause I'm totally okay with being homeless. all from a missed blog post

punctuation is for losers

Boo - Charlie Payne

I don't think it would take very much to survive a zombie apocalypse, as long as they weren't literally "the living dead". If the "zombies" were simply humans inflicted with some sort of disease, it would be easy to simply wait for all of them to either begin killing each other or die out naturally. I would do whatever I could to travel to an extremely remote rural location with a hidden underground room (very common, I know) with at least a year of provisions. I would have robbed a weapons store in the preceding mayhem in order to obtain a high powered gun of some sort. I would bring with me companions and animals, for company and food in case my initial provisions ran out. After the zombies were gone, I would be the leader of the New Age. A classic rags to riches story of an apocalypse survivor who had been smart enough to bring animals and seeds and who began to farm as soon as he could. I would implore the many companions I brought along to get over their pre-established social conventions and repopulate ASAP. Straw hats and overalls would be the uniform, everyone would be tan and muscular from slaving on the farm all day every day. During the winter months, we would build large bonfires between the rows of trees in our many orchards to keep them from freezing. Religion would re-emerge in the form of ritualistic dancing and chanting to honor gods of seeds and wood and breath and smoke. Sports involving skulls and sticks would come to prominence, as well as recreational marijuana consumption and swimming. Soon, however, I would grow old, and my muscles would begin to deteriorate, and I would die, leaving my only surviving son the responsibility of governing the people.

Assignment 10: BOO - Johnathan Morris

In the event that a zombie apocalypse were to occur, I'd like to think I have a bit of an upper hand. I live in the middle of nowhere, in a 300 acre neighborhood with only 5 other houses. We have 3 lakes in our within walking distance including one in our backyard, all bountiful with fish. Living next door to us is my grandparents, who have accumulated enough food to last my family around  year. My dad is also quite the gun collector, which in the case of a zombie epidemic, would surely come in handy.

Assuming that the outbreak will most likely take place in the suburbs and heavily populated parts of the country, we should have a good amount of time to communicate with our neighbors to have a  plan to work together. Maybe devise a set of rules for different scenarios that may occur.

Boo!-- Raiffa S.

In the event of a zombie attack I would be the most useless person. Well in most situations I am the most useless person but…

So instead of even trying to attempt to have a survival plan ready or marathoning every zombie anything in a futile attempt to educate myself or trying to prove my worth to a certain prepared, battle ready camper in 3^rd hour I will find the zombies and become one of them.

Does one simply just *become a zombie*? Well for this we will just assume that’s possible.

I mean it’s the perfect option for me! I can just laze around terrorizing everybody with my scary zombie ways (wow maybe I should stock up on some Walking Dead) well that is as long as I don’t die.

Can we just pretend that zombies are also invincible for this? Maybe I’ll just hang back at zombie base camp and rise through the ranks as some important leader who doesn't actually do any hand-to-hand combat but orders people around. Maybe I can fulfill some intense zombie romance drama with one of the soldiers in the zombie army who is sent out to the most concentrated fighting areas and I will be devastated and afraid for the life of my zombie love but as the zombie army general I must do what is best for my people and wow

I need to get out more.

Is this answering the prompt?

BOO - Keanu Gomez

Back when I was younger, my fears were very immature. I was one of the typical kids afraid of ghosts and the dark. I was afraid of very childish things that are no longer applicable to me now. I have realized that these previous fears are not real and that it is the “real” things that you have to worry about. For example, some rational fears would be fears of disease and epidemics, or fears of death. Ranking fears like these would be pretty difficult, but if I could pick one out it would be the fear of getting killed by someone. Sometimes when I am home alone, I get the most paranoid thoughts. I think of morbid possible scenarios like an intruder coming into my house while everyone is gone. Things like this really scare me because I wouldn’t know what to do. Especially if I am alone, I would probably just panic. When I start getting thoughts like these I start getting cautious and listen more to my surroundings. The thought of death can just be a frightening thing itself.

Assignemt 10 Ian Harrison

What am I most scared of? To be honest, I've got a bit of writer's block right now and all the other prompts didn't look like things I could write much about, so I'm just gonna take this one and completely wing it. I'm pretty scared of drowning, a fear multiplied by perhaps an unnecessary number of viewings of the movie The Prestige. The ocean in general is pretty scary, so I guess drowning in the middle of the ocean is my greatest fear. To me, that represents the ultimate human fear, which is dying slowly, painfully, and alone. The ocean: no one for miles and miles, deeper than one could imagine, filled with large, weird, and possibly hostile creatures, and if you catch it on a bad day, battering you with waves the size of small buildings with the force of a truck. Drowning: letting go of the most basic human survival instinct and being consumed inside out by water. Yeah, sounds like a pretty scary way to go. All in all, I feel like my fear is pretty justified. I don't think anyone would enjoy that. The main reason this is so scary to me though is because it's not improbable. Many people are scared of ghosts or other things that are pretty rare if they exist at all, while drownings probably occur every day. It's a very real possibility, which is why we try to prepare for it so much when traveling by boat with life jackets and other things. In conclusion, I'm scared of drowning because it means dying, which in itself is pretty scary, and doing so in a painful (in multiple ways) way.

Assignment 10: BOO--Amir Abou-Jaoude

I have always been picky about what I eat for breakfast. I went through a phase in 1st Grade where I would eat a Little Debbie Brownie for breakfast. Then, it was a banana and peanut butter. Next, I devoured boxes of Cocoa Krispies. Later, I consumed store-bought crepes. But, one summer, my go-to breakfast food was graham crackers and peanut butter.

I opened the pantry, got the Honey-Maid box from the top shelf, grabbed the Jif peanut butter, and walked over to the kitchen counter. I removed the graham crackers from their shelter of brown plastic. Then, I took a butter knife, plunged in headfirst into the Jif jar, and prepared to spread it all across my graham crackers. I glanced over at the window to see if my cat would be joining me for breakfast.

And that's when I noticed that someone was looking at me through the window.

He looked like the new Norman Bates. Sunglasses covered his eyes, so you really couldn't see who he was. But Norman Bates would wear dark colors and a black trench coat--and this person was wearing a solid purple T-shirt. Yellow nylon shorts ran up to his thighs, and he was mounted on a sky blue bike.

And he was looking, through the bushes in the front of my house, at me.

I nearly dropped the peanut butter on the floor. At school, they had told us of the danger of letting strangers into her home. How one unlucky soul was abducted when she answered the door for a young man. Granted, the man in the video had not been wearing a purple shirt, but this voyeur's wardrobe did not eliminate the possibility he had a nefarious scheme to kidnap me.

He slowly pedaled the bike further up my driveway, dismounted, climbed the two steps, and rang the doorbell. I interpreted its resounding sound to be an audible harbinger of death.

What would I do? Would I answer the door, and try to fight him before he got to me? Would I jam the knife, laden with peanut butter, into his guts? Would I deliver a blow to his head with the peanut butter jar? Would I stuff his mouth with graham crackers so that he suffocated?

But before I could decide on my next course of action, the door handle moved. He was not waiting for a death by graham crackers.

He was coming for me. This was his first step in breaking into the house. He would drag me onto his bike, a la Miss Gulch in The Wizard of Oz.  Then, he would take me to his secret lair, a labyrinth from which there was no escape.

I was so frightened I abandoned all plans to try to fight the intruder with breakfast foods. Instead, I called my mom, who was at work.

I was counseled to keep calm and remain in the kitchen. I was told to eat my breakfast and see what happened in a couple minutes. I finished spreading the peanut butter on my graham crackers, sat down with a cup of coffee, and nervously bided my time. After a while, I noticed that the bike had disappeared from view.

When she got home later that afternoon, my mom opened the front door to survey the damage the stranger had caused. On the door handle, he had attached a coupon for Domino's Pizza.

It was a pizza delivery after all. Or was it?

BOO- Mikaela Gatewood

I can't say that I've ever really thought about what I would do in a zombie apocalypse. If we're gonna be honest here, I'd most likely die fairly quickly. I'm not a very naturally skilled survivalist, and knowing my coordination I'd probably fall while running away from whatever mutant was trying to eat me. But for the sake of the prompt, I'll imagine that I could sufficiently take care of myself long enough to not get eaten. I assume there would be some time to prepare before the zombies took over Lexington, so I'd stock up on food and essentials. I'd then quarantine myself inside my house for at least a week or more once the zombies hit, as I imagine that after the initial wave of invasion the chaos would subside. I'd probably then try to meet up with safe people that I knew could survive/didn't have a chance of coming in contact with zombies within the previous invasion filled week. I believe I have a much high chance of survival teaming up with people rather than trying to survive on my own. Once I met up with them, I'd probably just let the zombie invasion run it's course, and my survival would be up to fate at that point. Another option could be that once I found out about the possibility of a zombie invasion (which would hopefully be pretty early on), I'd somehow get to Iceland and stay there until the zombies die out. I figure that Iceland is a remote enough place that zombies would have trouble getting there, and it could easily isolate itself from the outside in order to keep it's population safe. Either way, it sounds like a cool place to be anyways. So those would be my two plans for survival. I doubt either of them would work, but it's better to have some sort of plan than not at all.

Andrew Hardy

Okay, some assumptions to establish before discussing a zombie apocalypse. The most likely cause would be a weird rabies mutation, so you have brutal creatures that seek food, in the form of flesh, and will accomplish this desire with no regard for their own body and spreading of the virus is accidental and requires bodily fluid contact.  The horde will resemble something closer to 28 Days Later than Night of the Living Dead. Combating these creatures requires fatalities but no arbitrary head injuries or supernatural elements. The virus would arise in a developing country and spread rapidly, destroying governments and leaving wide swaths of continents of Africa or South America inhabitable to the general public. A drained government organization, think CDC,  that's attempting to deal with infected American doctors of both Ebola and the zombie virus allows it to spread within it's facilities and after a few days of an attempted military quarantine of a major eastern seaboard urban centre, the virus begins to spread west. This means that the general population of Lexington would have considerable time to become aware of the virus, and even a week or more before infection within the continental United States becomes common. Some semblance of infrastructure would still exist along with heavy military action, and a complete destruction of the current structure remains unlikely or at least would take considerable amount of time. That's not to say it's likely to survive. In the panic emerging from the news of the spreading virus, grocery stores are raided, local police forces are overwhelmed and general anarchy emerges. cross country travel is prohibited either by crowded highways or military forces attempt to control the outbreak by indiscriminate shooting. The high number of guns in American homes and paranoia of their owners means it's just as likely to be shot by a fellow survivor then eaten by a zombie. My best bet would be to remain inside for about a week once the virus hits Lexington until the initial chaos subsides. I live in a wealthy enough neighboorhood that a large portion of the inhabitants would be able to abandon their dwellings at the beginning and head for another place, reducing the population of potential infected and dangerous survivors/ The number of my neighbors that would immediately turn to gun violence means that traveling outside would be dangerous, and the large quantities of zombies that might inhabit my surroundings would be far more attracted to the sounds of gunfire. The security of my basement, the quantity of food in my house, and the number of effective blunt weapons and my physical fitness means I have a good chance of that short term survival. Once that most initial dangerous period subsided I would attempt to make my way to a friends rural house in a less inhabited area and would have weapons more effective for home defense like guns.  If there was a complete institutional failure or I was required to take care of my friends or family I would most likely perish rather then forsake human dignity.