say about me what you will
the only thing you can hurt
is my perception of you.
4.03.2007
apprehensions and prehensile utensils
So, lots of things.
Number one: I have always had apprehensions about hanging out with the Meridian kids to the extent that I don't particularly think that I fit in, partially because I don't find myself to be very elitist or pretentious when it comes to music, which from my perspective, seems like a requirement. I mean, I don't meet some of the other criteria either, like being exceptionally environmentally friendly, etc., but it was definitely the music thing that held me back from befriending them for a few years...that and they never would put me on their damn listserv. I swear I signed up like three times.
Point being, I was sitting today under a tree outside of the Muscarelle looking at another tree, tentatively identified as a weeping cherry mini tree, listening to the music on my ipod when a fantastic French rap song came on...and then I realized....sure, I listen to music mostly compulsively, and yeah, I don't know a lot of back stories to a lot of albums, and maybe even my ability to hold a decent conversation about music is fairly impeded by my inability to retain small (though potentially useful) details, like who sang a song originally and who just put out a cover, but I am, at least slightly, pretentious when it comes to music. I listen to a lot of Japanese/French language music, have a reasonably decent beginning of an album collection, and know "good music" when I hear it...or at least I know what I like which, if my taste isn't completely terrible, I would hope is good music. Maybe what has really been "holding me back" is my complete and utter denial of just how pretentious I can actually be. I realized today, "pretty damn pretentious" is the answer. Go figure.
Second: I have REALLY got to stop it with the uncomfortable honesty. It just doesn't go over very well, even with people who know and generally like me. I think I may have frightened my good and mostly darling friend away from me today by being a bit too honest about what goes on inside my head. Granted, I guess it's hard to understand if you've never been there. I used to think that I enjoyed being surrounded by mostly (relatively) stable (though certainly damaged) people because they tend to develop a better environment for me to exist in since it tends to be slightly less chaotic. Sadly, these are also the people who just don't get it when it comes to trying to understand where I'm coming from. I'm aware that it's not really that important for people to understand, but sometimes it's really nice. I'm realizing, though, that when I can't connect with the people around me, I spend a lot of time trying to "dumb down" (although this isn't the appropriate term since attempting to change the way you present your ideas to people oftentimes has very little to do with whether or not you are left with the same intelligent content) what I'm thinking and it often feels like a waste of time. Trading stability for stimulation would be ideal...but it has been making me question what type of life I ideally want which brings me to...
Lastly: What do I want out of life?
I've been frustrated with this question for a while now. I've been unable to come up with a satisfying answer, so I've been stalling--that's what a fifth year is, after all--but I am not feeling any closer to a reasonable answer. I know that I could easily become a professional. I could go to med school or grad school or whatever school, maybe even just get a job, and be just fine. Professionalism is stable. I'd have a crisp, clean, white-collar life in which I would probably be repetitively doing the same or similar things within my career field. On the other hand, I could completely throw it all away and do something absolutely crazy. I could abandon the "safety net" that my parents have so kindly provided for me, but which often makes me feel more confined than safe and seems to be holding me back rather than letting me actually choose for myself what comes next in life.
I say "could" because I don't think I will. I want, desperately, to live the sort of life that I think (probably falsely) is tied more closely to freedom (from a lot of things) than anything I have experienced in my life thus far, but I can't imagine a set of circumstances that would actually place me in the position to make the choice. I am, regrettably, stuck in the system. I would like to think that by some passive act of nature and fate, I may organically be driven to live unencumbered in the woods for a year, but as Jeff reminded me today, a big part of life is actually actively making choices. Most things don't "just happen"...although the jury is still out on whether that statement is "truth" or just one way of looking at things....one personal philosophy versus another....I think, though, that even if I could make the choice....I wouldn't...I'm a little afraid of what might happen.
On the opposite end of the spectrum from professionalism and stability, I imagine a world full of self-reliance and possibly, depending on how I play my cards, a large amount of stimulation. Stimulation tends to, when there's enough of it, drive me a little crazy. I am certain that a world full of stimulation, surprise, and adventure would be more fun than monotony, but I'm terrified of it.
The real question is, what is the next step....now that I've put everything out there and acknowledged it?
Number one: I have always had apprehensions about hanging out with the Meridian kids to the extent that I don't particularly think that I fit in, partially because I don't find myself to be very elitist or pretentious when it comes to music, which from my perspective, seems like a requirement. I mean, I don't meet some of the other criteria either, like being exceptionally environmentally friendly, etc., but it was definitely the music thing that held me back from befriending them for a few years...that and they never would put me on their damn listserv. I swear I signed up like three times.
Point being, I was sitting today under a tree outside of the Muscarelle looking at another tree, tentatively identified as a weeping cherry mini tree, listening to the music on my ipod when a fantastic French rap song came on...and then I realized....sure, I listen to music mostly compulsively, and yeah, I don't know a lot of back stories to a lot of albums, and maybe even my ability to hold a decent conversation about music is fairly impeded by my inability to retain small (though potentially useful) details, like who sang a song originally and who just put out a cover, but I am, at least slightly, pretentious when it comes to music. I listen to a lot of Japanese/French language music, have a reasonably decent beginning of an album collection, and know "good music" when I hear it...or at least I know what I like which, if my taste isn't completely terrible, I would hope is good music. Maybe what has really been "holding me back" is my complete and utter denial of just how pretentious I can actually be. I realized today, "pretty damn pretentious" is the answer. Go figure.
Second: I have REALLY got to stop it with the uncomfortable honesty. It just doesn't go over very well, even with people who know and generally like me. I think I may have frightened my good and mostly darling friend away from me today by being a bit too honest about what goes on inside my head. Granted, I guess it's hard to understand if you've never been there. I used to think that I enjoyed being surrounded by mostly (relatively) stable (though certainly damaged) people because they tend to develop a better environment for me to exist in since it tends to be slightly less chaotic. Sadly, these are also the people who just don't get it when it comes to trying to understand where I'm coming from. I'm aware that it's not really that important for people to understand, but sometimes it's really nice. I'm realizing, though, that when I can't connect with the people around me, I spend a lot of time trying to "dumb down" (although this isn't the appropriate term since attempting to change the way you present your ideas to people oftentimes has very little to do with whether or not you are left with the same intelligent content) what I'm thinking and it often feels like a waste of time. Trading stability for stimulation would be ideal...but it has been making me question what type of life I ideally want which brings me to...
Lastly: What do I want out of life?
I've been frustrated with this question for a while now. I've been unable to come up with a satisfying answer, so I've been stalling--that's what a fifth year is, after all--but I am not feeling any closer to a reasonable answer. I know that I could easily become a professional. I could go to med school or grad school or whatever school, maybe even just get a job, and be just fine. Professionalism is stable. I'd have a crisp, clean, white-collar life in which I would probably be repetitively doing the same or similar things within my career field. On the other hand, I could completely throw it all away and do something absolutely crazy. I could abandon the "safety net" that my parents have so kindly provided for me, but which often makes me feel more confined than safe and seems to be holding me back rather than letting me actually choose for myself what comes next in life.
I say "could" because I don't think I will. I want, desperately, to live the sort of life that I think (probably falsely) is tied more closely to freedom (from a lot of things) than anything I have experienced in my life thus far, but I can't imagine a set of circumstances that would actually place me in the position to make the choice. I am, regrettably, stuck in the system. I would like to think that by some passive act of nature and fate, I may organically be driven to live unencumbered in the woods for a year, but as Jeff reminded me today, a big part of life is actually actively making choices. Most things don't "just happen"...although the jury is still out on whether that statement is "truth" or just one way of looking at things....one personal philosophy versus another....I think, though, that even if I could make the choice....I wouldn't...I'm a little afraid of what might happen.
On the opposite end of the spectrum from professionalism and stability, I imagine a world full of self-reliance and possibly, depending on how I play my cards, a large amount of stimulation. Stimulation tends to, when there's enough of it, drive me a little crazy. I am certain that a world full of stimulation, surprise, and adventure would be more fun than monotony, but I'm terrified of it.
The real question is, what is the next step....now that I've put everything out there and acknowledged it?
4.01.2007
friendship is rare
Yesterday was a very rewarding day. I had a lot of positives highlighted with opportune music and some fantastic (I would say) dancing on my part. I hadn't been to a dance party in forever. It was everything I could have ever hoped for.
In other news, I have happened upon someone who is very likely to become my new obsession. At least from what I can tell. I think I'm going to ask this person whether or not they have an apprentice program in which I could participate. I have a lot to learn.
The book has stalled for a while. I wrote a lot about apples but then it kind of faded away...
I'm fading away. Mike Levy reads XCKD too. I really hope the Syndication thing is an April Fool's Joke. Holler.
In other news, I have happened upon someone who is very likely to become my new obsession. At least from what I can tell. I think I'm going to ask this person whether or not they have an apprentice program in which I could participate. I have a lot to learn.
The book has stalled for a while. I wrote a lot about apples but then it kind of faded away...
I'm fading away. Mike Levy reads XCKD too. I really hope the Syndication thing is an April Fool's Joke. Holler.
3.29.2007
vertigo...
sitting in this friendly place. in a friendly space.
I've recently been very pulled when I'm here in this box. "In the box." So to speak...the one in my lap. Good, you got. it. With my hands feeling slightly extra enflated like mabye the monster creatures in Naked Lunch...the very beginning stages when you just start to look a little like A Scanner Darkly...off shaded, almost cartoony. But you know that you're on the verge...the very verge of a crack. F. Scott Fitzgerald Crack. It exists, you know. I feel like I'm swallowing the very back of my tongue and there's a liquid running down...except drowing...and I have to open my mouth wide. It's the allergies. They'll say...I should get something.
I'm going to tell you that I've been very torn recently...between the electronic portions of my life and the real live breathing technicolor not 256bpi crazy electronic world. the real real one.
The funny thing though, is that I actually mean the world that exists when me the real live breathing one am working on writing stories on paper....the funny thing is me thinking that in some ways that world...the paper world is inherently better than the electronic world. I'm not sure if you'll get that.
Anyhow. Just wanted to think outloud for a bit. Funny things surround me and I'm about 85% happy with it. I'm going to the paper world now.
I've recently been very pulled when I'm here in this box. "In the box." So to speak...the one in my lap. Good, you got. it. With my hands feeling slightly extra enflated like mabye the monster creatures in Naked Lunch...the very beginning stages when you just start to look a little like A Scanner Darkly...off shaded, almost cartoony. But you know that you're on the verge...the very verge of a crack. F. Scott Fitzgerald Crack. It exists, you know. I feel like I'm swallowing the very back of my tongue and there's a liquid running down...except drowing...and I have to open my mouth wide. It's the allergies. They'll say...I should get something.
I'm going to tell you that I've been very torn recently...between the electronic portions of my life and the real live breathing technicolor not 256bpi crazy electronic world. the real real one.
The funny thing though, is that I actually mean the world that exists when me the real live breathing one am working on writing stories on paper....the funny thing is me thinking that in some ways that world...the paper world is inherently better than the electronic world. I'm not sure if you'll get that.
Anyhow. Just wanted to think outloud for a bit. Funny things surround me and I'm about 85% happy with it. I'm going to the paper world now.
3.19.2007
naked
I feel today almost as if I have been stripped of my identity. I'm down one best friend. Down my ipod. Down my belief that I'm doing fairly well in school this semester (don't even get me started there). I mean, sure, these things don't make me who I am but they certainly add to what I believe about myself and dedicate my time to. Maybe that's, overall, a sad thing. I mean, your closest friends like you for who you are, so when you lose them, does that mean that you are no longer who you are but someone else? That's kind of how I'm feeling. What sort of monster have I become? Also, whenever I dye my hair it takes at least 2 weeks for all of my old friends to figure out how to recognize me with my new hair color and since this one is particularly ridiculous and drastic, I'm saying it is going to be at least 3 weeks. Hurray for that, I guess.
So, the webcomic I discovered through a post by Emma on Bryan's facebook wall (I hate the Internet) has been comforting. It's great to know that there are people out there who think along similar lines as I do, at least from time to time. It may be true that those people are geniuses and I am not, but that's beside the point. I think this one was my favorite. Especially because it is SO true. Recently, with all the writing, sleeping, reading, etc. I've been doing, I've been having a pretty hard time keeping track of what is "real" and what is "read" and what is "dreamed." All of my realities, because believe me, I invest as much belief into what happens in books and writing as I often do into my own life, have been blurring together. Not to mention the influence that the lack of sleep or use of alcohol has on the jumbling. I dreamed on two consecutive nights about the same incident that has, I'll admit, been bothering me. In the first of the dreams it went as poorly as possible. In the second of the dreams it went as well as possible. When I awoke the second morning I realized that neither event had happened and neither probably would. Still, I was faced with the feeling of closure immediately prior to that realization and REALLY wanted to hold on to it. Maybe that's what dreams do...look to offer us some closure for the things that really never end, change, get better, etc. Closure is important. It's part of moving on, making the ends of my torn heart, mind, body, etc. meet, and finishing the "chapter" or "book," so to speak in order for me to file it away in my mental library without thinking that I need to be doing a little more work on it. I am constantly trying to find closure...maybe if I could invest a little more faith in my dreams, they'd do it for me. Wouldn't that be nice?
Just last night I was talking to a high school friend about the way people come and go in our lives. We both agreed that you never realize what a big part of your life a person is until they're gone. Also, you are unlikely to realize the many ways that one person has come to be involved until you come upon the holes they leave. I hate that part of friendship. I am always really reluctant to make real friends just because of that fact. Once you commit yourself to friendship, you are agreeing to lose a part of yourself forever if that friendship fails. You are agreeing to the possibility that you will become irreparable broken. You are taking the risk of creating a part of your life that will never feel right without the other person still being a part of it. For me, that's the scariest. Sure, the good times "are worth it." But the blackness of losing it is pretty god damned dark and I tend to slip into that darkness just a little too far. I know, in the long run, I am thankful for all of the super close friends I've had. I would say there are fewer than 20 of them, total, throughout the course of my life. I only know where some of them are, so if that factors in, there are probably 10 that I am still going to be in touch with in 5 years (if that many). Even then, if each of them only has a small percentage of me, let's say 1%, that's at least 10% of me that is forever missing. 20% if you recognize that my belief that I'm going to stay in touch with these people is at least slightly biased on the fact that I will want to try...but seem to have a problem with being a good friend in return.
Man, fuck it. I'm not giving up, but I may rethink this whole thing before endeavoring to make any more sudden movements when it comes to the friends I have.
Also, super sweet: I didn't make any spelling errors in this entire rant minus a few slang words. I suck at spelling, generally, but apparently, at least today, I rock at fixing my mistakes without a spellchecker!
So, the webcomic I discovered through a post by Emma on Bryan's facebook wall (I hate the Internet) has been comforting. It's great to know that there are people out there who think along similar lines as I do, at least from time to time. It may be true that those people are geniuses and I am not, but that's beside the point. I think this one was my favorite. Especially because it is SO true. Recently, with all the writing, sleeping, reading, etc. I've been doing, I've been having a pretty hard time keeping track of what is "real" and what is "read" and what is "dreamed." All of my realities, because believe me, I invest as much belief into what happens in books and writing as I often do into my own life, have been blurring together. Not to mention the influence that the lack of sleep or use of alcohol has on the jumbling. I dreamed on two consecutive nights about the same incident that has, I'll admit, been bothering me. In the first of the dreams it went as poorly as possible. In the second of the dreams it went as well as possible. When I awoke the second morning I realized that neither event had happened and neither probably would. Still, I was faced with the feeling of closure immediately prior to that realization and REALLY wanted to hold on to it. Maybe that's what dreams do...look to offer us some closure for the things that really never end, change, get better, etc. Closure is important. It's part of moving on, making the ends of my torn heart, mind, body, etc. meet, and finishing the "chapter" or "book," so to speak in order for me to file it away in my mental library without thinking that I need to be doing a little more work on it. I am constantly trying to find closure...maybe if I could invest a little more faith in my dreams, they'd do it for me. Wouldn't that be nice?
Just last night I was talking to a high school friend about the way people come and go in our lives. We both agreed that you never realize what a big part of your life a person is until they're gone. Also, you are unlikely to realize the many ways that one person has come to be involved until you come upon the holes they leave. I hate that part of friendship. I am always really reluctant to make real friends just because of that fact. Once you commit yourself to friendship, you are agreeing to lose a part of yourself forever if that friendship fails. You are agreeing to the possibility that you will become irreparable broken. You are taking the risk of creating a part of your life that will never feel right without the other person still being a part of it. For me, that's the scariest. Sure, the good times "are worth it." But the blackness of losing it is pretty god damned dark and I tend to slip into that darkness just a little too far. I know, in the long run, I am thankful for all of the super close friends I've had. I would say there are fewer than 20 of them, total, throughout the course of my life. I only know where some of them are, so if that factors in, there are probably 10 that I am still going to be in touch with in 5 years (if that many). Even then, if each of them only has a small percentage of me, let's say 1%, that's at least 10% of me that is forever missing. 20% if you recognize that my belief that I'm going to stay in touch with these people is at least slightly biased on the fact that I will want to try...but seem to have a problem with being a good friend in return.
Man, fuck it. I'm not giving up, but I may rethink this whole thing before endeavoring to make any more sudden movements when it comes to the friends I have.
Also, super sweet: I didn't make any spelling errors in this entire rant minus a few slang words. I suck at spelling, generally, but apparently, at least today, I rock at fixing my mistakes without a spellchecker!
3.18.2007
anthromorphisms
The above is not a word. I made it up because I couldn't think of a good title. I hate titles. Especially since you always have to write them before you even write anything else and it's like you're trying to sum up everything you're going to say in one word before you've even said any of it yet. That's pretty silly, don't you think?
So, I think I want to change my name but only because I'm in love with this song that has a name in it and I love it so much that I would want that to be my name, but maybe I'll just settle for my daughter having that name if and when I ever have a daughter.
Right now all of my clocks are flashing 12:00. We lost power sometime over break. I wonder, though, how different my life would be if I just left them and never knew what time it was. That's what's great about digital clocks. With the type with hands, analog? I guess, it's always the same time...so I feel like I should be doing the same thing over and over. 6:05? Dinner time. Wait, I just ate, 6:05? But I'm not hungry. Okay, really that never happens but it's still confusing. I would lose track of myself if it weren't for clocks.
So, I was talking to some people tonight about being pretentious about music...and I'm definitely mostly not...but I do listen to a lot of music in foreign languages and even though often I only partially understand it, I wonder if it makes me at least a little bit pretentious. I don't know how I would feel about that if it did. I also just decided that I really wish the word wunder was used more often. I think if I have a new screenname soon, wunder will be in it. Probably not, though, because I can't think of a sweet word to go with it.
Found this awesome collection of cartoons tonight. I wanted to share.
I stayed up way too late looking through all of them. I know which one was my favorite but I looked at it about an hour ago and I don't have the time to find it again. Alas. Sleep.
So, I think I want to change my name but only because I'm in love with this song that has a name in it and I love it so much that I would want that to be my name, but maybe I'll just settle for my daughter having that name if and when I ever have a daughter.
Right now all of my clocks are flashing 12:00. We lost power sometime over break. I wonder, though, how different my life would be if I just left them and never knew what time it was. That's what's great about digital clocks. With the type with hands, analog? I guess, it's always the same time...so I feel like I should be doing the same thing over and over. 6:05? Dinner time. Wait, I just ate, 6:05? But I'm not hungry. Okay, really that never happens but it's still confusing. I would lose track of myself if it weren't for clocks.
So, I was talking to some people tonight about being pretentious about music...and I'm definitely mostly not...but I do listen to a lot of music in foreign languages and even though often I only partially understand it, I wonder if it makes me at least a little bit pretentious. I don't know how I would feel about that if it did. I also just decided that I really wish the word wunder was used more often. I think if I have a new screenname soon, wunder will be in it. Probably not, though, because I can't think of a sweet word to go with it.
Found this awesome collection of cartoons tonight. I wanted to share.
I stayed up way too late looking through all of them. I know which one was my favorite but I looked at it about an hour ago and I don't have the time to find it again. Alas. Sleep.
3.02.2007
i like to strike out
My fingers have smelled delicious for the last few days. First like cloves and now like giradelli chocolate from our brownies that are baking in the oven.
But definitely, definitely, not like girls who like to tell stories on other girls that they pretend to like and then stab in the back. Those girls are NOT my type. I do not want to lick them. Now, the male go go dancers who are apparently going to be at dragball? yum.
What can I say, I'm a twenty first century fox with the world wrapped up in a box.
Show me the way to the next little girl....oh, don't ask why.
I love listening to albums because they both set a mood and make me have something to think about when my brain goes numb and I don't know what else makes a good thing to say.
I tell you.
But definitely, definitely, not like girls who like to tell stories on other girls that they pretend to like and then stab in the back. Those girls are NOT my type. I do not want to lick them. Now, the male go go dancers who are apparently going to be at dragball? yum.
What can I say, I'm a twenty first century fox with the world wrapped up in a box.
Show me the way to the next little girl....oh, don't ask why.
I love listening to albums because they both set a mood and make me have something to think about when my brain goes numb and I don't know what else makes a good thing to say.
I tell you.
2.15.2007
five minutes of library paranoia rambling.
Sometimes I want to retreat into the life going on inside of my head and completely forget about everyone around me.
I really hate other people sometimes. I know hate is a strong word....and I know that anyone who knows me knows that I only very rarely allow this "hate" to escape into my daily life....but sometimes I can tell.
Today I am feeling extremely aggressive. I guarantee it's because we are in that lovely week that falls between Valentine's Day and my birthday, notably the most awful week of every other year of my adult life that I've participated in so far.
How do I feel this year? Like I want to retreat into a small space in my apartment, read 4 Harry Potter books, finish at least 2 significant books that I've been reading, scribble things into a journal, and wait for someone to notice that I've been missing for a few days.
But I, being a responsible "good kid" have classes, committments, and meetings that I am too lame to skip. I tried the whole "giving up" thing last semester. For two weeks I did absolutely nothing I was supposed to. Honestly, I felt motivationless, purposeless, and helpless.
I know that I wish that I wasn't motivated by all the "stupid" school shit I have to do sometimes....but I guess some motivation in some direction is better than being a stagnant pond of sloth.
The ideal would be doing without thinking....and thinking because it's fun....but somehow when I shut my body down, my mind soon follows.
Today I want to embrace something really good in life.
I may start with distillation. : )
I really hate other people sometimes. I know hate is a strong word....and I know that anyone who knows me knows that I only very rarely allow this "hate" to escape into my daily life....but sometimes I can tell.
Today I am feeling extremely aggressive. I guarantee it's because we are in that lovely week that falls between Valentine's Day and my birthday, notably the most awful week of every other year of my adult life that I've participated in so far.
How do I feel this year? Like I want to retreat into a small space in my apartment, read 4 Harry Potter books, finish at least 2 significant books that I've been reading, scribble things into a journal, and wait for someone to notice that I've been missing for a few days.
But I, being a responsible "good kid" have classes, committments, and meetings that I am too lame to skip. I tried the whole "giving up" thing last semester. For two weeks I did absolutely nothing I was supposed to. Honestly, I felt motivationless, purposeless, and helpless.
I know that I wish that I wasn't motivated by all the "stupid" school shit I have to do sometimes....but I guess some motivation in some direction is better than being a stagnant pond of sloth.
The ideal would be doing without thinking....and thinking because it's fun....but somehow when I shut my body down, my mind soon follows.
Today I want to embrace something really good in life.
I may start with distillation. : )
2.14.2007
proposition
I hope that real paper never goes out of business. There's nothing romantic about typing away on my laptop.
2.13.2007
my cat sat on a flowerpot
I came home today to find my new plant, a really nice flower, flattened. At first I was devestated because I was sure that I had killed my plant. For me, killing something is terrifying since it implies that I may never be able to successfully nurture. Most women, I've learned are Feelers and not Thinkers. I am a thinker which is often translated as "bitch," or "cold." It makes me worry that any efforts I have as a parent will be inadequate....unless, of course, I find a male feeler...anyways, to make a long story short, I finally realized that I hadn't killed my plant. My cat killed my plant...or at least made a good attempt. If I hadn't gotten there when I did, it's pretty clear that plant would have had to get put into the trash....as it is, I salvaged it, I think.
The truth is, I like being domestic. I like turning things on and off, running a bath, doing chores. I would be content to hang out in my apartment and do these things all day. Sadly, I'm the type of person that really does believe, at least to some extent, that I'll be better off with a college degree from a prestigious university. Thus, here I am, getting that degree. Really though, I feel like I probably learn much more on my own...which makes me wonder why I've really decided to subject myself to approximately 10 more years of this. I really don't think it's a great idea, but alas, here I go.
I often wonder why I check people's away messages so often...and I think I may have figured it out. Obviously, other than the fact that I get lonely sometimes, I am really not looking to see what they're doing....I think that I'm hoping to discover some sort of secret wisdom in their away messages and profile quotes. It would be way better to read a book, but now that time moves so quickly, it's impossible (alright, difficult) to find enough free time. Here's my thought process:
Everything moves more quickly now specifically since the creation of the Internet.
When I want to talk to someone in writing, I don't write a letter, I text/IM/facebook message them. Sure, the phone is, I guess, the intermediate between snail mail and electronic communication, but I think the telephone falls in a different realm of communication altogether. The phone made more accessible those "face to face" conversations you need to have with someone in order to be able to hear their tone and inflection. So, rather than driving to see them, you can call them....so I guess there are steps pushing our interactions towards rapidity on both planes....the quickness of communication makes everything else travel a little more quickly too. Sometimes, I think, even the speed at which we are expected to work, now that we're doing everything in word processors rather than on a typewriter or by hand, has increased. Electricity and the 24/7 availability of the Internet means that my "work day" sometimes lasts from 7 AM- 2 AM. Yes, I realize that's only 5 hours of sleep. I am, after all, in college. During this work day, I ought to be, of course, working. This means looking things up, reading for class, writing papers, contributing to my community in a meaningful way, etc. Any time that I do have "available" is generally spent responding to electronic messages since I am not expected to recieve and respond to mail once per day as with snail mail, but instead multiple times. If I recieve an e-mail in the morning, I am expected to respond by noon. If I recieve a response by 3, I should respond by dinner time and expect an answer by 9ish. Of course, depending on whether the correspondent is a professor or another student, this back and forth may continue until 2 in the morning. In fact, without my multiple responses, some people would worry that they were being ignored and their words were going unheard. Also, because the Internet makes us available to everyone at all times, the group of friends with which we are, to an extent, expected to stay in contact expands exponentially. Even though these are "social obligations," they are still obligations....unlike pleasure listening or reading or napping, etc. All of these things together make me want to:
move to a cabin in the woods near a lake
have electricity since I really do believe it's useful and I like to be awake at nighttime
own an Internet-less computer (yeah....I can't do away with the word processor)
have a great library
and go into town 1-3 times a week
Honestly, the only deterrent is that I don't want to be doing this all alone.
Although I'm starting to think that I could do this alone.
"I am a rock. I am an island.
I have my books and my poetry
to protect me." -Simon & Garfunkel
The truth is, I like being domestic. I like turning things on and off, running a bath, doing chores. I would be content to hang out in my apartment and do these things all day. Sadly, I'm the type of person that really does believe, at least to some extent, that I'll be better off with a college degree from a prestigious university. Thus, here I am, getting that degree. Really though, I feel like I probably learn much more on my own...which makes me wonder why I've really decided to subject myself to approximately 10 more years of this. I really don't think it's a great idea, but alas, here I go.
I often wonder why I check people's away messages so often...and I think I may have figured it out. Obviously, other than the fact that I get lonely sometimes, I am really not looking to see what they're doing....I think that I'm hoping to discover some sort of secret wisdom in their away messages and profile quotes. It would be way better to read a book, but now that time moves so quickly, it's impossible (alright, difficult) to find enough free time. Here's my thought process:
Everything moves more quickly now specifically since the creation of the Internet.
When I want to talk to someone in writing, I don't write a letter, I text/IM/facebook message them. Sure, the phone is, I guess, the intermediate between snail mail and electronic communication, but I think the telephone falls in a different realm of communication altogether. The phone made more accessible those "face to face" conversations you need to have with someone in order to be able to hear their tone and inflection. So, rather than driving to see them, you can call them....so I guess there are steps pushing our interactions towards rapidity on both planes....the quickness of communication makes everything else travel a little more quickly too. Sometimes, I think, even the speed at which we are expected to work, now that we're doing everything in word processors rather than on a typewriter or by hand, has increased. Electricity and the 24/7 availability of the Internet means that my "work day" sometimes lasts from 7 AM- 2 AM. Yes, I realize that's only 5 hours of sleep. I am, after all, in college. During this work day, I ought to be, of course, working. This means looking things up, reading for class, writing papers, contributing to my community in a meaningful way, etc. Any time that I do have "available" is generally spent responding to electronic messages since I am not expected to recieve and respond to mail once per day as with snail mail, but instead multiple times. If I recieve an e-mail in the morning, I am expected to respond by noon. If I recieve a response by 3, I should respond by dinner time and expect an answer by 9ish. Of course, depending on whether the correspondent is a professor or another student, this back and forth may continue until 2 in the morning. In fact, without my multiple responses, some people would worry that they were being ignored and their words were going unheard. Also, because the Internet makes us available to everyone at all times, the group of friends with which we are, to an extent, expected to stay in contact expands exponentially. Even though these are "social obligations," they are still obligations....unlike pleasure listening or reading or napping, etc. All of these things together make me want to:
move to a cabin in the woods near a lake
have electricity since I really do believe it's useful and I like to be awake at nighttime
own an Internet-less computer (yeah....I can't do away with the word processor)
have a great library
and go into town 1-3 times a week
Honestly, the only deterrent is that I don't want to be doing this all alone.
Although I'm starting to think that I could do this alone.
"I am a rock. I am an island.
I have my books and my poetry
to protect me." -Simon & Garfunkel
12.14.2006
because my fingers are moving
I live in filth and revel in infamy.
If it's an important weekend, guaranteed I have my period.
I don't know the word tact, and I cross the line at least once every 12 hours.
I surround myself with people who are as screwed up on the inside as I am.
They just don't all know it yet.
But the best ones do.
I love pirates and postcards and practically anything that starts with the letter p except perhaps penis, since I prefer other words like cock and dick. Penis just sounds so polite.
I hate waking up in the morning, but love going to bed because it's warm and snuggly. I thrive on fog as long as it's pretty and light rain as long as the sun in shining. Take me to any body of water, I will make myself happy.
I re-evaluate my life on a daily basis and find out that usually I'm just treading water until I actually get it right and decide what I want to do.
Science excites me.
Traveling is the root of all good and all evil for me-- I can't get enough, but I never seem to enjoy it enough while I'm there. Being abroad is a smattering of memories, and I can't hold on to any of them.
I update sporadically, and I don't really care because this is just one way I file myself down when I'm feeling rough around the edges.
I write poetry and prefer parsnips to french fries when I'm eating a steak. I like blue cheese on top, but not by itself. My favorite meal involves mashed potatoes and meat, and I would be completely content to live off of those two things for the rest of my life, as long as you throw in a vegetable.
I love run-on sentences and write train of thought and left a lot of my heart in the south, even though I never want to be considered southern. But I do say "heaven forbid."
I am adept at understanding any rapid sort of lyric from my early obsession with beat poetry and my dedication to having a functional relationship with the English language in all of it's forms. Screamo, however, is often too much for me to decipher.
About half of the time I feel so full of life I want to explode, and the other half I feel so completely drained that even sleep takes effort. I hate and love medicine because I love the quick fix, but hate the stigma.
I hate being a woman because I hate most women and a lot of the things that we (I will include myself) feel is necessary in life. We judge and mean it, we gossip and don't mean it, and we take anything anyone else says regarding ourselves way too seriously. I mean, really, boys talk about each other all of the time, and it's endearing. What sorts of social lessons are women missing out on that makes us somewhat non-functional beings from time to time?
But I would hate to be a man because they are, largely, completely devoid of sexual power. And I may never be a CEO, but I do know how to use the fact that I'm a woman to get my way.
I like crying at the end of bad movies. I love foreign films. Video games are a part of my daily ritual. I am self-assured, but accused of being selfish. I truly don't care a lot for other people, but only because, in general, they are not much concerned with me. When I have a real friend, I get upset at every tiny bit of frustration they have and only want to fix things to make them better.
I have a love/hate relationship with the idea of becoming a parent, but I am almost certain it's inevitable.
I can not see myself in ten or twenty years.
But I look happy when I'm eighty and talking to a man with large ears.
If it's an important weekend, guaranteed I have my period.
I don't know the word tact, and I cross the line at least once every 12 hours.
I surround myself with people who are as screwed up on the inside as I am.
They just don't all know it yet.
But the best ones do.
I love pirates and postcards and practically anything that starts with the letter p except perhaps penis, since I prefer other words like cock and dick. Penis just sounds so polite.
I hate waking up in the morning, but love going to bed because it's warm and snuggly. I thrive on fog as long as it's pretty and light rain as long as the sun in shining. Take me to any body of water, I will make myself happy.
I re-evaluate my life on a daily basis and find out that usually I'm just treading water until I actually get it right and decide what I want to do.
Science excites me.
Traveling is the root of all good and all evil for me-- I can't get enough, but I never seem to enjoy it enough while I'm there. Being abroad is a smattering of memories, and I can't hold on to any of them.
I update sporadically, and I don't really care because this is just one way I file myself down when I'm feeling rough around the edges.
I write poetry and prefer parsnips to french fries when I'm eating a steak. I like blue cheese on top, but not by itself. My favorite meal involves mashed potatoes and meat, and I would be completely content to live off of those two things for the rest of my life, as long as you throw in a vegetable.
I love run-on sentences and write train of thought and left a lot of my heart in the south, even though I never want to be considered southern. But I do say "heaven forbid."
I am adept at understanding any rapid sort of lyric from my early obsession with beat poetry and my dedication to having a functional relationship with the English language in all of it's forms. Screamo, however, is often too much for me to decipher.
About half of the time I feel so full of life I want to explode, and the other half I feel so completely drained that even sleep takes effort. I hate and love medicine because I love the quick fix, but hate the stigma.
I hate being a woman because I hate most women and a lot of the things that we (I will include myself) feel is necessary in life. We judge and mean it, we gossip and don't mean it, and we take anything anyone else says regarding ourselves way too seriously. I mean, really, boys talk about each other all of the time, and it's endearing. What sorts of social lessons are women missing out on that makes us somewhat non-functional beings from time to time?
But I would hate to be a man because they are, largely, completely devoid of sexual power. And I may never be a CEO, but I do know how to use the fact that I'm a woman to get my way.
I like crying at the end of bad movies. I love foreign films. Video games are a part of my daily ritual. I am self-assured, but accused of being selfish. I truly don't care a lot for other people, but only because, in general, they are not much concerned with me. When I have a real friend, I get upset at every tiny bit of frustration they have and only want to fix things to make them better.
I have a love/hate relationship with the idea of becoming a parent, but I am almost certain it's inevitable.
I can not see myself in ten or twenty years.
But I look happy when I'm eighty and talking to a man with large ears.
12.06.2006
friend is a four letter word
I would not say that I trust easily....but maybe I do. All I know is that I repeatedly get demolished by people I count among my closest friends. Maybe I have a hard time reading people or people have a hard time being honest with me...I'm not quite sure. I have always thought that I was relatively approachable, and I generally make it very clear to people that I am close to how much I desire honesty over all other things. Seriously, I would rather someone say things that hurt than to say one thing and do another.
Right now I'm just in this weird place. I know what's best for me isn't what I've been doing, but it just felt yummy, healthy, promising. I love developing friendships with people that I'm close to and ending up in a good place where there's a bubble, a safe zone, of trust. I think that before this week started, I didn't have much faith in that bubble, but for some reason I decided Monday or yesterday that it really was fine for me to put my trust into it and believe in it. Big mistake for me. Now, after having spent an entire semester trying just to protect myself from feeling abandoned, alone, worthless...I manage to do it all in one week without even having someone to abandon me in the first place.
I don't always take things like this well. In fact, I would say that most of the time I take them extraordinarily poorly. And I would also say that this time of year, the last week of classes, the moment before I need to be buckling down and doing well with work, this is not the time when I need to be making my life any harder with these issues. Sadly, we don't always get a choice in how our life plays out.
I guess this just hasn't been my year. I think, this year, I will actually make some resolutions for new year's, and hopefully stick to them.
Right now I'm just in this weird place. I know what's best for me isn't what I've been doing, but it just felt yummy, healthy, promising. I love developing friendships with people that I'm close to and ending up in a good place where there's a bubble, a safe zone, of trust. I think that before this week started, I didn't have much faith in that bubble, but for some reason I decided Monday or yesterday that it really was fine for me to put my trust into it and believe in it. Big mistake for me. Now, after having spent an entire semester trying just to protect myself from feeling abandoned, alone, worthless...I manage to do it all in one week without even having someone to abandon me in the first place.
I don't always take things like this well. In fact, I would say that most of the time I take them extraordinarily poorly. And I would also say that this time of year, the last week of classes, the moment before I need to be buckling down and doing well with work, this is not the time when I need to be making my life any harder with these issues. Sadly, we don't always get a choice in how our life plays out.
I guess this just hasn't been my year. I think, this year, I will actually make some resolutions for new year's, and hopefully stick to them.
12.04.2006
happy songs can be right
I live an excellent life. I've been realizing this more and more and it dawned on me today that I am so incredibly lucky. Sure, some times there are these bizarro things that trouble me or kind of throw me off kilter....but when it comes to day to day life, I have it made. I live in a great place and get to take baths, cook things, and read Nabakov. I love me.
I guess the only thing that I regret, ever, is that sometimes it is clear that my life revolves around myself. I don't mean in a "selfish" kind of way....like I don't always want everyone to act only in so much as it is useful to me....but I get a little wrapped up in myself and the way I live my life sometimes. I'm terrified of outside intrusion.
There's an empty box of condoms in the trashcan outside of my housemates' front door. The thought of them having sex with people is odd, since I'm sure it happens, and I might even hear it sometimes, but it never phases me.
Anyways, back to what I can tell is going to be one of my favorite novels. The prose is explosive.
I guess the only thing that I regret, ever, is that sometimes it is clear that my life revolves around myself. I don't mean in a "selfish" kind of way....like I don't always want everyone to act only in so much as it is useful to me....but I get a little wrapped up in myself and the way I live my life sometimes. I'm terrified of outside intrusion.
There's an empty box of condoms in the trashcan outside of my housemates' front door. The thought of them having sex with people is odd, since I'm sure it happens, and I might even hear it sometimes, but it never phases me.
Anyways, back to what I can tell is going to be one of my favorite novels. The prose is explosive.
here my motor purrs
there's a fine line between desperate and romantic. scenario once: the girl says: I have loved you from the moment I've seen you, and I think you're the one. the guy says: oh my god. you are a complete creep and I never want to see you again. get away from me. scenario deux: the girl says: I know this more than I've never known anything, that if there ever was a right one for me, you are it. I love you. the guy says: I feel completely the same way. thank you so much for being the perfect person and for loving me. let's get married.
fine line: being able to weigh the odds, play the game, and maintain a proper balance of your affections in line with the one to which they are directed.
If you play it wrong, you lose completely and usually end up single with a reputation for being crazy. Play it right, you end up married. Sometimes people say love operates in many shades of gray. Sometimes I even say it. But I'm starting to think that it's much more black and white.
I prefer to write about it in colors, so I'm off to dream.
fine line: being able to weigh the odds, play the game, and maintain a proper balance of your affections in line with the one to which they are directed.
If you play it wrong, you lose completely and usually end up single with a reputation for being crazy. Play it right, you end up married. Sometimes people say love operates in many shades of gray. Sometimes I even say it. But I'm starting to think that it's much more black and white.
I prefer to write about it in colors, so I'm off to dream.
11.24.2006
reflecting on thanksgiving
Well, I guess that in the line-up of holidays, this one was mediocre, but still, there was something worth thinking about. The trek for me was longer this year than most....usually we hold all of the major family holidays in my hometown, where my grandparents and mom still live, even though the other two parts of the family are other places in Virginia, but this year we went to Charlottesville. I guess since my grandmother died last year, they were trying to do things differently. Driving 3 hours home only to turn around and drive 3 hours (picking up my grandpa and taking the back way to Charlottesville) for the lunch only to do it all over again in reverse was not much fun. The interesting thing, for me at least, was finally sitting down with the two cousins I am closest in age with and laughing about how we all felt the same way, even though we never get to talk about it.
My one female cousin and I are the exact same age and have a lot of common interests and have always gotten along quite well. The interesting thing is that she's adopted, so our getting along and having things in common has nothing to do with us actually being related. Maybe that's the reason that she and I never really feel like we're in competition with each other...but for years her parents have always taunted my mom with all of her accomplishments in an attempt to get some sort of reaction...some sort of battle of resumes...in order to determine who has a better daughter. I have always thought it was ridiculous. This Thanksgiving she, myself, and our older cousin Drew laughed about how it's the same way for all of us. It never was something we really talked about before....but even though we're all 21 and older now, we all still sit at the "kid's table" so it gave us a chance to talk things over. They've all been doing it for years, "rewriting history," as Drew put it, in order to, I guess, teach the younger kids a "lesson" and make themselves feel good about the parenting they did with those of us who have and are graduating from college. We got fed up and went to the store and got beer. That is something I've been wanting to do with my family for years. Thank goodness for having family that I actually will look forward to seeing for Christmas. Maybe it's a generational thing. Maybe this will be one of the last years we'll all do Thanksgiving together. Once my grandfather dies, we probably will have little reason to all get together, so maybe it's good that I finally found something to enjoy in the holidays. If nothing else, I found out that our disdain for the way our family competes with each other over us is something that we all have in common, if nothing else.
Compared to my "usual" posts, this one is rather boring, but I guess that makes sense since I'm home. I always feel a little less "myself," or interesting, while I'm here. I head back to school tomorrow, I think. I can't wait.
My one female cousin and I are the exact same age and have a lot of common interests and have always gotten along quite well. The interesting thing is that she's adopted, so our getting along and having things in common has nothing to do with us actually being related. Maybe that's the reason that she and I never really feel like we're in competition with each other...but for years her parents have always taunted my mom with all of her accomplishments in an attempt to get some sort of reaction...some sort of battle of resumes...in order to determine who has a better daughter. I have always thought it was ridiculous. This Thanksgiving she, myself, and our older cousin Drew laughed about how it's the same way for all of us. It never was something we really talked about before....but even though we're all 21 and older now, we all still sit at the "kid's table" so it gave us a chance to talk things over. They've all been doing it for years, "rewriting history," as Drew put it, in order to, I guess, teach the younger kids a "lesson" and make themselves feel good about the parenting they did with those of us who have and are graduating from college. We got fed up and went to the store and got beer. That is something I've been wanting to do with my family for years. Thank goodness for having family that I actually will look forward to seeing for Christmas. Maybe it's a generational thing. Maybe this will be one of the last years we'll all do Thanksgiving together. Once my grandfather dies, we probably will have little reason to all get together, so maybe it's good that I finally found something to enjoy in the holidays. If nothing else, I found out that our disdain for the way our family competes with each other over us is something that we all have in common, if nothing else.
Compared to my "usual" posts, this one is rather boring, but I guess that makes sense since I'm home. I always feel a little less "myself," or interesting, while I'm here. I head back to school tomorrow, I think. I can't wait.
11.19.2006
entre act
I feel like I'm starting in the middle with this, but that's the only place to start. I lose myself, pick up the pieces, and do it all over again. I live alone, love alone, and find myself in the middle of messes often. I used to write, but now I just sit and stare at a screen and wait for things to make themselves apparent. I decided that I might as well use some of the times that I'm just making myself tired for some self reflection and maybe even get my desire to write back in the process. If you stumble upon this, or if I share it with you, I guess you are lucky. Until then, I am doing this just for myself. Sometimes typing things makes them. That's what I'm hoping for.
2.27.2006
maximum 95 characters
Current Mood: explosive
I decided that it's not possible that all of my friends are insane unless it's simply me that causes them to act that way. Either that or the fragmentation of postmodernism has taken hold and we're all trying to subvert our own inner dialogues for fear that they're the voice of the majority.
For heaven's sake. Heavens sa-ke, the drink. It would be damn good right now.
Everyone in this computer lab hates me because I keep tapping my fingers to my ipod's beat and everyone else is trying to study. Soon I'll be playing one of the games that is on the computer to teach business students about supply and demand. here I come, lemonade stand.
and that's more than a dress.
So, I have kissed a surprising amount of my top 8 friends. Really. Maybe that's why they're still around.
I have to get off this computer. I can't stand electricity and flashing advertising banners.
Where are the fucking candles?
I really am going. to give up.
Currently Listening: "If It Weren't For Venetian Blinds"
I decided that it's not possible that all of my friends are insane unless it's simply me that causes them to act that way. Either that or the fragmentation of postmodernism has taken hold and we're all trying to subvert our own inner dialogues for fear that they're the voice of the majority.
For heaven's sake. Heavens sa-ke, the drink. It would be damn good right now.
Everyone in this computer lab hates me because I keep tapping my fingers to my ipod's beat and everyone else is trying to study. Soon I'll be playing one of the games that is on the computer to teach business students about supply and demand. here I come, lemonade stand.
and that's more than a dress.
So, I have kissed a surprising amount of my top 8 friends. Really. Maybe that's why they're still around.
I have to get off this computer. I can't stand electricity and flashing advertising banners.
Where are the fucking candles?
I really am going. to give up.
Currently Listening: "If It Weren't For Venetian Blinds"
1.21.2006
what's good for me?
Current Mood: binary
drinking isn't? I don't know what is though. Love, love isn't good for me. It fills me up with worthwhile sentiments and then dissappears leaving me with all sorts of thoughts and feelings that I then, of course, just peddle off on someone else. being manipulative. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Good when I get what I want, bad when I realize how I've gotten what I wanted and it makes me a bad person. good= friendships with girls that don't hurt anyone. bad= friendships with boys that make me unsure of what the word "friend" entails exactly. good equals bottled water and showers, bad equals my room being messy for the first time this semester.
I'm going to be in bed all day reading. I guess that's worth something.
Currently Reading: He Knew He Was Right, Anthony Trollope
drinking isn't? I don't know what is though. Love, love isn't good for me. It fills me up with worthwhile sentiments and then dissappears leaving me with all sorts of thoughts and feelings that I then, of course, just peddle off on someone else. being manipulative. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Good when I get what I want, bad when I realize how I've gotten what I wanted and it makes me a bad person. good= friendships with girls that don't hurt anyone. bad= friendships with boys that make me unsure of what the word "friend" entails exactly. good equals bottled water and showers, bad equals my room being messy for the first time this semester.
I'm going to be in bed all day reading. I guess that's worth something.
Currently Reading: He Knew He Was Right, Anthony Trollope
11.29.2005
justpoetry
Current Mood: hopeful
justpoetry is back up. justpoetry.blogspot.com
I can't promise I'll keep updating it forever, but I will be taking a poetry class next semester, so at least I will have data to enter, if that's what poetry can be called.
Currently Listening: "Dilate," Ani DiFranco
justpoetry is back up. justpoetry.blogspot.com
I can't promise I'll keep updating it forever, but I will be taking a poetry class next semester, so at least I will have data to enter, if that's what poetry can be called.
Currently Listening: "Dilate," Ani DiFranco
11.09.2005
throw me a line
Current Mood: jealous
because apparently I don't have one I can use.
I'm procrastinating. Hurray! I really could/should be doing better things, particularly better things than being trivial and trite. I should be studying. Bah for it.
I am slightly at a loss for words, partially because I have not been listening to "any good music" lately. That's far from true. The problem is, I have 21 GB of music on my computer and have been listening only to songs by bands that begin with an A or B for the whole beginning of the semester. It's been a nice alternative to always listening to the exact same thing, but I just feel like there are certain types of music that are missing from my playlist. Spectrums that do not begin in an A or B.
I begin with an A. Ardent. That shall be my new adjective. I used to cheat and use alacrity. I am a lot less cheerful and / or willing these days. I am, however, still characterized by intense emotion.
God save the King and don't forget about me.
Goodnight.
Currently Reading: Bobos In Paradise: The New Upper Class and How They Got There
because apparently I don't have one I can use.
I'm procrastinating. Hurray! I really could/should be doing better things, particularly better things than being trivial and trite. I should be studying. Bah for it.
I am slightly at a loss for words, partially because I have not been listening to "any good music" lately. That's far from true. The problem is, I have 21 GB of music on my computer and have been listening only to songs by bands that begin with an A or B for the whole beginning of the semester. It's been a nice alternative to always listening to the exact same thing, but I just feel like there are certain types of music that are missing from my playlist. Spectrums that do not begin in an A or B.
I begin with an A. Ardent. That shall be my new adjective. I used to cheat and use alacrity. I am a lot less cheerful and / or willing these days. I am, however, still characterized by intense emotion.
God save the King and don't forget about me.
Goodnight.
Currently Reading: Bobos In Paradise: The New Upper Class and How They Got There
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