And yes, I know it's spelled wrong....
Tehre hvae been ltos of tiems in our lievs wehn taehcers hvae mraked us wrnog on qusetinos becasue we mispseleld a wrod. Somteiems the resaon we dind't get as hgih of a socre is becasue of tihs. Splelnig can be a rael prolbem for smoe pepole, but are thsoe taehcers raelly corerct?
I'm a decnet spleler, but I stlil dno't lkie it. A whlie ago, I saw somtehing on the copmuter that was prtety itneretsing. Acocrdnig to profesosrs at Cabrmidge Unviresity, spleling dosen't wrok the way we thnik it deos. Tehy say taht as lnog as the frist and lsat lteter of a wrod styas the smae, the inisde odrer of the letetrs dno't mtater. So deos taht maen taht we hvae been wrnog tihs enitre tmie?
Myabe spleling ins't as improtant as we thoguht. The olny thnig wtih tihs is, olny 55% of pepole can raed wrods tihs way, prboably becasue thye're so uesd to seieng it how it's "supopsed" to be. So tlel me, can you raed tihs?
If you can't read that above, this is what it translates to:
There have been lots of times in our lives when teachers have marked us wrong on questions because we misspelled a word. Sometimes the reason we didn't get as high of a score is because of this. Spelling can be a real problem for some people, but are those teachers actually correct?
I'm a decent speller, but I still don't like it. A while ago, I saw something on the computer that was pretty interesting. According to professors at Cambridge University, spelling doesn't work the way we think it does. They say that as long as the first and last letter of a word stays the same, the inside order of the letters don't matter. So does that mean that we have been wrong this entire time?
Maybe spelling isn't as important as we thought. The only thing with this is, only 55% of people can read words this way, probably because they're so used to seeing it how it's "supposed" to be. So tell me, can you read this?
Pages
Monday, April 19, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Paradise
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Stone: Stream of Consciousness
Author's Note: This was a stream of consciousness I had. It doesn't have a point to it.
I look down 1,000 ft below me, into the livid river. My harness straps tightly around me, binding me to the chord attached to the ledge. With a scream that could be heard from the heavens, I plummet down, down, down, my face inches away from the stoney mountainside. Seconds before the water tears me apart, the chord springs me back up. I heave a sigh of relief, knowing I'm able to live for at least one more day.
I look down 1,000 ft below me, into the livid river. My harness straps tightly around me, binding me to the chord attached to the ledge. With a scream that could be heard from the heavens, I plummet down, down, down, my face inches away from the stoney mountainside. Seconds before the water tears me apart, the chord springs me back up. I heave a sigh of relief, knowing I'm able to live for at least one more day.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Epic Skiing Fail
A couple days ago, I went on the ski trip to Sunburst. I was actually skiing pretty okay for me, (which was a miracle) until we decided to race down a hill called the "snow bowl." So we where going down, and I was doing fine, but then I made too sharp of a turn. One ski came flying off near the top of the hill, and as I was tumbling down, the other ski came off near the bottom. When I figured out I was alive, I grabbed my ski and trudged all the way back up to find my other ski. By that time, Everyone else was already riding up on the lift. It was an epic fail on my part.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Stream of Consciousness: Fire

Flames lick every inch of the floor, which disintegrates in seconds. I struggle to esape as thick smoke clouds my vision. Flooring is collapsing around me faster and faster with every heaving breath I take. I hear crying off in the distance: my mother's. I head towards her sobs, battling through the rubble. Finally, after the difficult fight, the house admits defeat, and caves in. I rush to my family, tears cascading down my filthy cheeks. My mom holds me tight as we all begin to bawl together.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Spring Will Come
It seems hopeless, that spring will ever come,
With the weather so cold and the snow so thick,
And my skin caked with layers,
Still doesn't always do the trick.
The air so icy,
And the ground so unsteady,
I begin to wonder
If spring will ever be ready.
But the sun does come out,
And the wind does stop.
Snow doesn't always fall,
But on occasion, there is a raindrop.
Grass gets uncovered,
And the snow isn't so high,
Leaves on trees begin to bloom
Out of the corners of my eye.
When the snow melts away,
And the air isn't so bad
A smile creeps over my face,
Because finally, finally,
Spring has come to take winter's place.
With the weather so cold and the snow so thick,
And my skin caked with layers,
Still doesn't always do the trick.
The air so icy,
And the ground so unsteady,
I begin to wonder
If spring will ever be ready.
But the sun does come out,
And the wind does stop.
Snow doesn't always fall,
But on occasion, there is a raindrop.
Grass gets uncovered,
And the snow isn't so high,
Leaves on trees begin to bloom
Out of the corners of my eye.
When the snow melts away,
And the air isn't so bad
A smile creeps over my face,
Because finally, finally,
Spring has come to take winter's place.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Road
Endlessly, endlessly, Pavement stretches across the countryside.
Slowly, slowly, I walk, making the journey as long as I possible can, not wanting to miss a thing. Surely, surely, there's a way to hold on, make it go on forever. But unavoidably, unavoidably, this road will end. But the end, it doesn't mean the end; its only the start of a new beginning.
Slowly, slowly, I walk, making the journey as long as I possible can, not wanting to miss a thing. Surely, surely, there's a way to hold on, make it go on forever. But unavoidably, unavoidably, this road will end. But the end, it doesn't mean the end; its only the start of a new beginning.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Beach
With every step I take, more sandy grains glue to my feet,
The gentle breeze plays with my hair, lifting it up and down,
The kind sun shares its warmth with me as I continue my stroll,
Waves roll in and out, reaching my feet for only a moment, then retreating once more,
Millions and millions of shells litter the beach, begging to be kept,
Splashing water sprays my face, beckoning me in,
With a great leap, I break the water's surface.
The gentle breeze plays with my hair, lifting it up and down,
The kind sun shares its warmth with me as I continue my stroll,
Waves roll in and out, reaching my feet for only a moment, then retreating once more,
Millions and millions of shells litter the beach, begging to be kept,
Splashing water sprays my face, beckoning me in,
With a great leap, I break the water's surface.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Snow-stream of consciousness
It is still dark out when I wake up this morning. Descending the stairs, I look out our front door window and see...nothing. Nothing at all. A thick layer of snow has caked every inch of the window. I shrug and walk into the kitchen, thinking about what kind of cereal I want. Opening the refrigerator, I notice our lack of milk. Seeing as no one was awake, I grabbed a jacket and opened the garage. I pull out of the driveway and head for Pick N' Save. Soon I realize that this was a fatal mistake. Flake after flake plummet to the ground all around me. It's getting harder and harder to see out of the windshield. Dark clouds have blotted out the sun, engulfing my surroundings in gray. In a desperate attempt to try and get back home, I struggle to keep the car on the road. Getting harder still, snow begins to weigh down on the windshield wipers. SNAP! The blades disappear into the storm, leaving my windshield unprotected. Now completely covered, the snowy windshield blocks my vision of the road. Slamming the breaks to try and stop before I got hurt, I skid across ice, totally out of control! Suddenly, a bright light shines through the snow of the car, and I'm flipped upside down. My head smashes into the side of the car, and the last thing I remember, is seeing red from the blood that seeped into my eyes.
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