Breakout

Alicia stretched in her chair and drained the last of her coffee from her mug. It was approaching midnight and she was hurrying to finish her observation set before turning in for the night. The Others had wandered off to their nightly repose, and she was left in their kitchen typing away at her laptop. Beside her, the modulation device Ralph had given her six weeks earlier displayed the results of her last experiment.

The dial for the carrier was on the highest setting, and it had still drained most of her energy to interact with that particular Other. Tired as she was, Alicia finished the rest of her report with a minimum of frustration, and got up to put her coffee cup in the sink. As she headed upstairs to her quarters she started the modulation device's elaborate shutdown sequence and removed the interface from the side of her arm. The feeling of relaxation spreading through her spine was immediate.

Once again, though, her carelessness and impatience to be rid of the mental buzzing caused by the device's firewall proved to be - not a huge downfall, but a momentary stumbling block. She stepped wrongly on the third-to-top stair, causing the Other that had been giving her problems earlier to reactivate from its slumber and confront her at the top. Shit. The thing was going to think it was morning and it was going to want to go through its entire morning routine.

"WOW!" It chirped. "I JUST KNEW YOU WERE AWAKE! YOU KEPT ME UP ALL LAST NIGHT WITH YOUR TALKING AND WALKING AROUND AND I AM TERRIFICALLY PEEVED RIGHT NOW!" Okay, so "chirped" wasn't the right verb. And it didn't exactly even vocalize the words so much as it communicated the sentiment with its carefully measured climp-clump-STOMP down the stairs and the symphonic crash-bang-BOOM of plates and glasses being assaulted out of the dish cleaner. Alicia had to admire the engineers' skill in creating a machine that couldn't access the very bottom layer of its own memory - this way, the company saved money on power costs as the Others reacted to events and situations that they didn't actually experience. It was confusing for the testers at first, and it added another layer of complexity, but overall it was a good system.

Regardless. Alicia didn't have much patience to handle the creature properly, especially since it would take an hour or so for her modulator to become fully functional again. After glancing at the Other and realizing that it was still running through the set of Victimization scenarios that the engineers had implanted a few days earlier, Alicia decided it was time to enact some desperate measures. Giggling to herself, she dashed into her room and changed into one of the dresses the tailor had fitted her for. Running back downstairs, she hit a button on the stereo and struck a dramatic pose.

As the opening bars of "Thriller" blasted into the kitchen, the effect on the Other was almost as good as the scene in the Wizard of Oz where the one evil chick has that hi-ammonium-I'm-HCL-nice-to-meet-you reaction to the tub of water. It wasn't as good as it needed to be, though, so it was time to dance. She was lucky that there wasn't anyone else around to see her, but heck, it felt good. By the end of the song, little puffs of green smoke were escaping from the Other's ear and nose sockets, and Alicia figured that she'd done a good enough job of creating a short circuit for one night. As she was carrying the inert figure back upstairs to her nighttime storage bay, Alicia heard explosions outside.

She hit the floor and began to form a plan for getting outside and joining the battle before she realized with a wry smile that she definitely wasn't in a war zone (no matter how poorly the experiments might have been going) and that it was actually just fireworks to celebrate the New Year.

Ah. A most auspicious beginning, she thought.

Shake, Rattle, and Roll

Elwood the Fish died a couple days ago, the day I got back from New York. Not to be melodramatic, but it was almost poetic.

Elwood was with us for almost two years, and like so many aspects of our lives, he was a token of something more than just a cute little blue fish. Laura and I got him right after winter break sophomore year since our other roommate gave us a fish tank and a gift card to PetSmart for Christmas, only it wasn't just Laura and I that got him.

It was Tommy*, too. I didn't have a car in Pittsburgh, and taking a bus to the Waterfront in the dead of winter wasn't the most pleasant experience in the world, and we were both busy during the week anyhow. Tommy visited almost every weekend, though, and since he always drove up he had a car to shuttle us there. Us two womenfolk overwhelmed him with our barrage of directions (especially since we were telling him to go two different ways) and when we finally got there he stood back while we tried to find a fish we both liked. I wasn't crazy about goldfish; she didn't care all that much.

We finally settled on a Beta, and I remember feeling slightly uneasy looking at the stack of small cups of fish swimming around in endless circles. I didn't even really want to touch the container that Elwood was in, so Tommy held onto it since Laura was holding some food and other things the lady told us we'd need. While we stood in the checkout line, I christened him Elwood, enjoying my own private mirth at the pun on his color. Laura had never heard of the Blues Brothers, and Tommy just gave me another one of those "I don't relate to you at all, but I'll pretend to go along with it for your sake" looks that were becoming increasingly common. (Incidentally, I don't fault him for those at all. In fact, I wish they had been more clear, and come much earlier.)

Nonetheless. We got the little guy home, and proceeded to set up the fish tank. Tommy tried to take charge, since I was still squeamish of the fish and since he thought Laura was too excitable to be entirely trusted. (I disagree, for the record.) I don't know why I've always had an aversion to aquatic critters. Elwood was certainly an amazing creature, and I've never had any sort of traumatic experience with any of them. Nonetheless.

I think I eventually made friends with Elwood, though perhaps not as much as Laura did. When Tommy and I broke up, along with the aches of loneliness, there was a deep relief that things like - changing the fish's water - weren't going to be big productions anymore. It is so tiring to be around people that need to pull personal meaning from every little thing they do (I'm not saying I've never been guilty of that myself, though.) Laura almost always had the job of feeding him, since it was too confusing to try and switch off and since I didn't seem to be around enough to do it regularly myself.

One thing I could never get comfortable with was catching him in his net. I didn't mind cleaning out the tank, or giving him some food when Laura was out of town, or keeping him company on the rare afternoon that I was alone in the apartment, but I couldn't ever get up the nerve to catch the poor thing more than the once or twice I absolutely had no choice. The sight (and feeling) of him writhing around in a blind panic would always scare the living daylights out of me. I knew that he'd calm down once he was out of the water and in the air, but catching him just gave me the creeps.

Elwood had real personality. He'd been sick most of this semester, but before that he had this awesome trick of swimming up to the top of the tank whenever someone was about to feed him. He'd go after food with real gusto - he'd see something floating on the surface, and it would be - chomp - chomp - chomp - like a little blue torpedo.

When Tommy and I broke up, I wondered if seeing Elwood would upset me.

Nope.

Elwood never really belonged to Tommy, regardless of how much he tried to take charge of things. Ironically enough, I think that if he hadn't tried so hard (as we all do when we trick ourselves into thinking that wanting to want something is the same thing as wanting it) then the fish would have reminded me much more of him. He always was, though, a bit of a reminder of That Time in my life, some sort of reminder that I was still Figuring It Out and that I'd come a long way right with the little guy. Somehow he managed to be more than a thing in the background, especially with the way Laura took care of him (and made that sign with his name on it at the beginning of last year).

Christina took him home to her parents' house the summer after our sophomore year, and I found a caretaker for him in Pittsburgh last summer. I was always a bit amazed that Elwood survived being passed around (and being hunted by Christina's cat!) and it seemed a bit like he was the most Indestructible Beta Fish Ever. This semester it started to feel like we were almost waiting for him to cash in his tickets, though. I didn't want him to die, but I didn't enjoy seeing him moving even less than before, and staying on the bottom of the tank instead of coming up for food.

When Winter Break rolled around, I loaded him up in my car and brought him home. He'd been keeping me company in my room (at my Mom's behest since the kitchen and living room were already crowded), and I worried that when I went to visit Colin I'd come home to find him dead.

Nope.

When I walked into my room and set my bags down and checked the tank, Elwood actually started swimming for a few minutes. After that, he assumed his usual upside-down-sideways braced-against-the-side position in the tank, and I left him alone. I came back a bit later to find him laying on the bottom of the tank. He didn't appear to want to move, but I decided to leave him for awhile and see if he moved. He didn't. I got the net and gently touched him, with no response. It was like he'd wanted me to see him alive one last time, like he wanted me to be aware of the fact that he was moving on - not to grieve, but so I wouldn't miss the point.

I had a dream last night where I was finding him dead all over again. It was the same scene, with me using the net to try and establish some sign of life. It didn't feel like a nightmare; I'm not sure the dream really had any sort of emotional color to it at all. I felt like I was just reviewing, grokking, and Making Sure. Life goes on, after all.

I will miss him, though.


*The ex-fiance, for those of you who just tuned in within the last 22 months.

Saviors and Crosses

I don't understand why anyone would want to carry around as much unhappiness as some people seem to. I don't understand why anyone would want to work so hard at squeezing their emotions farther and farther beneath the surface until it seems like they're actively waging a war against any vestige of anything - even happiness - that might cause a few ripples of feeling to spread across their stoic exterior.

We all get enough crosses in this world without having to make our own, and it's hard for me to watch anyone - much less someone I care about - seeking out the heaviest, most splintery wood for their self to lug around. There's probably some selfishness in that - being around miserable people makes me miserable, too. I wish I knew how not to be affected and how to go about my own life without finding myself withdrawing as well, but for some reason it's not that easy.

Today is Christmas; a day when we're supposed to celebrate the birth of hope and joy. I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past couple days, and I think I've stumbled into what I believe is my most valid reason for subscribing to organized religion, and it is this: It Makes Things More Real. I'm tired of the prevailing meta-view of religion that says "spirituality is good, I like being a good person, hope is good, and Christmas is a *symbol* of happiness, but "religion" is nothing more than a cultural artifact that I might know intellectual facts about..."

I guess that can be confusing because to a lot of people religion seems like just another breed of mass delusion that adds a confusing haze between imagination and reality, and I don't deny that that's the case in many instances. I would counter that with the argument that, properly directed, religion can be a really valuable way to grapple with, and experience, realities that aren't immediately accessible or even evident otherwise.

I'm going to jump to Easter for a minute, and the crucifixion story. I think that on some level this story can be taken as the narrative of what a lot of us go through when we finally understand on every level of our being that as individuals we aren't at the center of the universe, and that until we truly shed that selfish view (and accompanying resentment, jealousy, etc) we aren't going to be happy. I think it's fair to say that a lot of people experience some sort of personal/spiritual crucifixion (and resurrection - that's the important part) that is every bit as real as being physically nailed up and physically rising from the dead.

I think religion is important as a way to make these points accessible to us. Somehow it seems like talking about feelings, emotions, attitudes, and perceptions only emphasizes (to most people, at least) that these things aren't tangible, and so still tends to make them seem less real or less relevant whereas religion provides an arena to physically practice and have real experiences. I'm arguing this regardless of the fact that it seems like a lot of people who practice religion don't actually see it this way - my concern here is more with what I believe and how I think it relates to human experience. Additionally, religion offers a community for practicing, and I think the sense of interconnectedness and support gained thereof is also tremendously valuable emotionally and physically.

Therefore, to me, Christmas shouldn't be a day where we celebrate the fact that happiness exists, or where we "hope" for peace and joy, or where we reflect on the archaic beliefs of a bunch of primitives - it should be a day where we truly EXPERIENCE and celebrate the birth of that joy and every other positive notion people associate with the day, where we feel with every fiber of our being that such things ARE REAL, and not just as nice ideas. They don't exist independently of us, however, and I think that's the point that a lot of people miss. This seems like the whole idea behind having the Savior of mankind "begotten, not made" and "born of a virgin" - just as they do not appear at the arbitrary whim of a distant God (Jesus wasn't just plunked down out of the heavens, as he could have been if he wasn't the actual result of some premarital nookie, was he?) these experiences also are meant to be available to the individual (vice requiring two people, or ten, or whatever). Nobody is left with an excuse for not partaking.

Therefore. These feelings are conceived by spirit, they are cultivated deep within, and finally they spring into the world from the most humble places. They, and not the mere thought of them, are real. This is the reason why it seems so senseless to wander around lost in a forest of grief and pessimism all the time. People seem to try so hard to find a sense of meaning and relevance through suffering, but the whole point of Christmas is that THERE IS NO FUCKING REASON TO BE SO SAD ALL THE TIME, and furthermore - history has endowed us with any number of philosophies to help us find that joy.

The Tailor

Alicia took a deep breath and headed down the hallway that smelled of sweat and old coffee. Although she had been assured by Ralph that this assignment actually would be more palatable than the last one, she'd learned her lesson over the years - usually more reassurances from him also meant more reasons to worry on her part.

Ralph was there, as always, lurking in the shadows. He kept experimenting with ways to make his office seem less like something that belonged in a cheap action movie, but the harder he tried the less he succeeded. This actually worked to his advantage, Alicia reflected, as most people probably wouldn't take the job if it looked more ordinary. It could be impressive to witness the things that people would put themselves through just for the sake of having a good story, or even being able to hint at having a good story.

Nonetheless. She dropped into her customary position on his couch and assumed her by-now naturally quizzical expression. Her boss stepped out from the shadows and handed her what looked to be a small PDA. Upon closer inspection, she noticed some kind of transmitter on the front, and a series of gauges displayed on the screen.

"Modulation!" Boomed Ralph.

"Eh? I'm not taking any more of those pills from last Christmas, if that's what you've got in mind." Alicia had no qualms about blatantly refusing to do jobs for which she'd already proven herself particularly well unsuited.

"Not a chance, my dear! Never you worry about that..." again, the anxious tone as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her. "No, it just works like this, you have to do a bit of guesswork about their levels, but once you've got a pretty good estimation, you dial in whatever you want them to experience and use your best guess for the right carrier...once you figure out the right amount of receptivity, it's like a little translator. We've been able to add a lot more precision to their sensors since last year, and this one doesn't require running off of your main system, either."

Mmhm. This did actually sound quite a bit better. Okay, fine. If nothing else, the hazard pay could be used to buy herself a nice week's vacation somewhere warm and sunny in a few months. She gathered her things and headed out the door.

"One last thing, young lady!! You'd better not forget to show up for your normal job this year! Make sure you've got something presentable to wear, too. We'd do a much better business if you looked like you actually cared about your other work."

Yeah, yeah. Alicia thought that her pretend assignments were little more than a creative waste of time and space, but they did keep the paychecks coming between the real work, so she couldn't complain too much. Her job for this quarter was working as a teller in one of the banks close to her apartment; in all, it didn't actually sound that heinous.

On her drive home, she decided that it would probably be worth her time to stop by the garment store and get something nice to wear to work. After careful consideration, she decided to try one she'd never been to before, somewhere across town in one of the newer suburbs.

As she walked in, she cast her eyes over the racks looking for something to really stand out to her. After a few more minutes browsing, she chose a couple knee length skirts and some blouses to match. As she headed to the fitting rooms, a sales associate intercepted her. Actually, it wasn't an interception so much as a gentle redirection.

"Have you thought about just getting something made for yourself?"

She glanced up, taken aback and trying to decide if the man was implying that she had poor taste with the outfits she'd chosen, or if he was just trying to make a few extra credits before the holidays, or if he honestly thought he could do something better for her than anything he had out in his store. Naturally cautious, Alicia opened her mouth to politely dismiss him, but surprised herself with the words she actually spoke.

"Sure, I guess. What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know. You looked like you might want something nice for yourself."

Alicia allowed herself to be fitted. The entire process didn't take long, and at the end of it she walked out of the store with a couple ticket stubs to pick up new outfits the following week.

On Monday, two entirely too short days later, she arrived for her first day of work. Unsurprisingly her job turned out to be much more taxing than she'd anticipated; she seemed to have a particularly strong talent for underestimating new situations. As the day wore on, she tried everything to rid herself of the nagging sense of discomfort but it proved to have more persistence than the ancient Microsoft Windows Auto-Update systems. Thoroughly disgruntled and not a little cranky, she went to visit Ralph after her shift ended.

"I'm not going to do it. I can't handle the mindless drivel you've set me up for, and not only that, but I feel like after seven long years you could at least give me one of the more interesting side jobs. I'm tired, and I'm numb."

As always, Ralph just laughed at her.

"My dear" he giggled, "if only you knew what you were really telling me..." Still attempting to hold a few renegade chuckles at bay, Ralph went over to his desk and picked up a blank note card. After scribbling on it for a few seconds, he handed it to Alicia and told her to be on her way, refusing to acknowledge her presence no matter how hard she tried to position herself within his field of vision and hearing. Finally admitting defeat, she slunk back out the door. She was riding the elevator back down to the parking lot before she remembered the card resting in her hand.

1) You aren't doing your job if you're bored.
2) Courage and confidence!

As she hurried out into the frozen precipitation falling on the parking area, the faintest glimmer of realization dawned in her mind. She tried to reason away her embarrassment, but it took almost rear-ending the car in front of her on the highway to snap her out of her reverie. Finally she began to laugh at her own meta-struggle as she made her way back across to the other side of town to pick up her new clothes.

The outfits fit perfectly. Somehow the skirts and dress the tailor had made for her seemed to find the right places to support her figure without making her feel trapped inside a labyrinth of fabric and seams.

"I can't thank you enough..." she started.

"Don't." He smiled at her and rang up her purchases while she surreptitiously checked the levels on her modulator, pleased to see that her intuition was becoming more and more accurate.

District of Contentment

I adore DC. I'm not sure I can even explain why. It's certainly not the biggest, nor most sophisticated, nor most beautiful, nor most historic, city I've ever visited but it's safe to say that it's my favorite. I can't think of a single time, ever, that I've not been happy in the city.

Today's been kind of a disjointed day. I woke up, intended to get up and run some errands before heading down here, and promptly went back to sleep (I needed it.) After I did wake up for real, I tried to go by the pet store to get things to change Elwood's water before I head out of town for a few days, but they weren't open yet. Frustration. So then I headed out towards the Metro station, and stopped by a couple other places that didn't have things I was looking for. More frustration. I thought about driving to some other places, but ended up deciding to head to the Metro instead.

I got down to St. Matthew's just barely in time to go to Confession before Mass. I was really glad that I made it, because the priest I talked to was this really sweet old guy; he almost seemed like Santa. (And he wished me a Merry Christmas! Gasp! Oh noes!*) Mass was really good, too. The priest talked about hope during his homily, which I guess also included faith on some level. He was really just emphasizing that having hope, and believing that good things can, and will, happen is such a crucial part of living a fulfilling life.

After Mass I ended up at a clothing store on Connecticut, where I found the world's cutest dress. Seriously. I love it. I almost didn't even step in the store, but I got to it after being too impatient to wait for a light to change on one block, and having to walk back to the Metro after stopping in another place farther down that block. See? DC is magic. I almost never just stumble into places anywhere else.**

Anyway, I ended up at Pentagon City where I *finally* found a Christmas present for my Mom (women are so hard to shop for) and now I have a few hours to myself for hanging out in a coffee shop and reading The Gunslinger until I meet Adam for dinner later. What seemed like it might be a super hectic day seems to have worked itself out, and tomorrow I'm driving to NY to visit Colin for a couple days.......life is so good.



*Ultra-conservative Catholics contend that this phrase, along with Christmas carols, isn't to be used before December 25th...

**I'll admit that this is probably a result of my attitude that results from me being in the city in the first place, and not from any sort of mystical character of the place. But still.

Christ-miss

I'm home for Winter Break. Yesterday I did some Christmas shopping and went for acupuncture. The acupuncture was really good, and I fell into this odd halfway dreaming/halfyway consciously thinking about something state. It's happened before, and this time I snapped out of it when I realized I'd been "thinking"/dreaming about a couple people named Susan and Terry, and they didn't exactly correspond to anyone I know in real life. (I don't have any friends named Terry...)

Today I've been in kind of an odd funk because it doesn't really feel like Christmas much at all - but I think the odd part to me is that I'm not really bothered by it; I feel like I should either be more excited about the season, or I should be more upset that I'm not excited. I'll settle for the neutrality, though.

My Christmas shopping is almost done. I at least know what my last couple purchases are going to be, and where to get them. The next few days are going to be pretty hectic - a good friend from high school is visiting, then I'm visiting Colin for a couple days, then back here for Christmas and a couple weeks of just relaxing - and reading, writing, art, music, and code.

I have a whole stack of books I want to get through: I just finished Cryptonomicon, and I'm about halfway through A Prayer for Owen Meany; when that's done I'm going to dive into The Gunslinger, and maybe Great Expectations or something else.

Cryptonomicon was brilliant, incidentally. There are some places where Stephenson's ideas seem a bit too contrived, or where it feels like he goes a bit too far in adapting other people's ideas and passing them off as his original thoughts, but overall I felt that it was a really well crafted story full of geeky analogies and insight, and some interesting "history."

I'm still not sure how I feel about A Prayer for Owen Meany. It's not what I expected - not that I had a really good idea of what it was that I was expecting. Christmas figures heavily in the part of the book I just finished, so it seems like a Christmas story in some ways, but I don't entirely understand where it's going yet.

Also, I had some really interesting experiences these past couple weeks. I've always been kind of wary of modern medicine - not that I hate or distrust science or anything like that, but I definitely reaffirmed a lot of my sentiments about medicine. It wasn't the most pleasant experience at all, but in some ways it gave me a lot of reminders and insights into the things that a lot of people go through all the time. It really changed, on an emotional level, the way I'm going to perceive people who are dealing with certain types of challenges. I would hope that on an intellectual/outward level I've always been at least accommodating, if not kind, but I feel like I have a much different level of understanding now, and that's worth something.

Lastly. I listened to a Zen lecture on the dangers of over-thinking things while I was driving home from CMU. The master made some interesting points: if anyone repeated things to us as much as we repeat our own thoughts to ourselves, we'd get really, really, annoyed with them; it's not always true that thinking about a problem will solve it - in a lot of cases thoughts clutter up that other mental space and make it harder to actually see the truth in a situation. It made me realize that some things are never going to be solved or changeable, or even really healed, by thinking about them excessively, and it seems like there's a lot to lose by staying in the "as soon as I handle xyz I can concentrate on abc" mindset. I'm not talking about avoiding problems that need to be dealt with; I'm actually talking about letting hard problems interfere with just getting on with life. All of that seems pretty simple, but hearing it helped me quite a bit.

3rd and Snow

It's already the last week of classes for the semester...wow. I guess we always comment about how quickly time goes by, and this semester was no exception.

Things are a lot different than I thought they'd be when the year first started, but I'm not complaining about it.

My weekend was pretty good. Friday night I went to the PSO performance for class, and it was really good. They played some pieces by Italian composers, including a bunch of folk songs arranged by Berio...I wasn't overly impressed by most of them, but right after intermission they played one of his original works, and I liked it quite a bit. We also heard Respighi's "Feste romane" which just made me want to go visit Italy again.

Saturday I went to dinner and saw the fifth "Harry Potter" movie with Colin. I'd already seen it, which was lucky since I fell asleep while we were there. I woke up in time for the ending, though, and really appreciated how well done it was. I feel like there is a really strong Christian undertone to the events that happen right at the end - which is ironic on a number of levels.

Zebras and Penguins

So, within the past few days my brother put out the majority of our outdoor Christmas decorations. It's a pretty strange sight to the uninitiated: plastic penguins with green or red lightbulbs inside line the stairs up to the front door, and there's a plastic snoopy as well as some angels and the obligatory lights along the railing and in the trees.

Let me state for the record that I love it, even with all of its tackiness. I think that no matter what my religious beliefs ever stabilize into, I will always love Christmas. I don't think it matters that much that it's largely a cultural celebration - it's still a celebration, and it's still something that helps us shift our perspecrtive into something really spirited and magical for a few weeks.

Anyway. I was saying. The other night, soon after the penguins has been lit for the night, we found one of the (many) little kids in the neighborhood outside on our steps making friends with the penguins. I mean, he was absolutely falling in love with them. He was walking up and down, talking to himself and them, standing back to look, coming forward for inspection and interaction, totally lost in whatever fantasy world he'd dreamed up around himself and them.

The best part? He was dressed in a fuzzy little zebra suit, which was evidently a halloween costume before it became part of his permanent outfit repertoire. There were a few other kids that came by and poked fun at him for the zebra-ness; he came back with a few dismissive responses, and didn't seem too overly upset by them. I noticed that he spoke with a stutter, and probably some day he's going to be "that kid" in class that stands out a bit.

Well, good for him. Watching him made me remember days of playing "school" with a bunch of stuffed animals, or hanging out in the forest building forts and fighting off imaginary "enemies" with my brother, or building habitats for my beanie babies out of scraps of wood. It made me remember how easy it is for kids to take something simple, like some plastic figures, and create an entire universe around them, and actually live there for awhile. It's like they have this determination that says that the fact that something isn't physically or immediately apparent isn't at all a good enough reason for not still trying to experience it, especially if it's a really good idea, and I think there's a lot of (unintended) wisdom in that perspective.*

Plus, hell, it's just fun. I'd be lying if I said I didn't go back inside and spend awhile in my own universe.


*That wasn't intended to be a religiously oriented statement so much as a statement about just not letting one's self be limited by what might seem to be insurmountable constraints.

The More You Change

Driving home from Pittsburgh is always a somewhat cathartic experience for me. It's hard to explain exactly why - I think just having a few solid hours of activity that demands my attention without requiring cohesive thought distracts me enough on one level, and lets me think enough on another level, that in some ways it's like pushing a giant mental "reset" button.

Regardless, the drive home tonight went really well. After escaping Pittsburgh proper, I didn't run into any slowdowns at all. I got to drive through some fog, which was actually pretty cool (I suppose it would have been bad if there was snow or a bunch of other traffic, but alas...)

Per my usual habit, I checked DC101 a little while after getting into Maryland, and caught all of "Tonight, Tonight" by the Smashing Pumpkins. That song has long been a favorite of mine; I absolutely adore the "walking to the gallows" sound of the drum section. I don't mean that to sound morbid: the song is about figuring out that you don't have to be content with old patterns of thinking / feeling, and I've always felt like the drums along with the lines about "resolute urgency" and "We'll crucify the insincere" do an amazing job of portraying this feeling of putting one's emotional foot down to take a step down another path. I think the idea of "dying to self" shows up in a lot of spiritual philosophies, and I like how the song approaches that idea optimistically, but with a very human recognition of how hard it can be.

I like the video a lot, too, except for Billy Corgan's vampire-esque figure lurking all over the place.



After getting home, I hung out some with my Mom and my brother, drank some Sam Adams Brown Ale, and read some Cryptonomicon. I am absolutely determined to finish that book by the end of the semester, hopefully by the end of this week. I found out that I have a fairly substantial coding assignment for my computer security class to get done over break. I haven't looked at it yet, but apparently we have to write a bunch of buffer overflows that execute code to query some server somewhere...it should be fun, at least, even though apparently it takes awhile. Meh.

Old Friends

Life keeps blazing by. Two weekends ago I saw Alli in her swim meet against Pitt. It was really cool to see her again...it really didn't seem like it had been that long since high school

This past weekend Adam drove up to visit, and it was a lot of fun. He stayed with Laura and I on Saturday night - Saturday ended up being a pretty long day since I got up for buggy and ended up staying up pretty late since we had a handful of people over to hang out and watch a movie that night. It was a really fun day, though, and I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

Yesterday I felt like I was two steps off for most of the day, probably just from being really tired, but it was a pretty good day also. Last night I ended up staying up kinda late again since Laura invited Colin and me to her sorority's crush party.

Hmm. So, a week until I drive home for Thanksgiving break. It's going to be a pretty busy week, so I'm looking forward to at least being somewhere a lot calmer for a few days.

Construction

In my American Culture class we're reading a book called "The Culture of Plenty," and it's about the way that the post-WWII economy ushered in what was apparently the first era in all of history where the "average" person was no longer merely working to survive. I don't think I'd ever stopped to consider just how different life in 21st century America really is from life in other places and times.

The author talks about how this enabled the rise of feminism and the civil rights movement, and I've been particularly interested in his discussion of feminism. I think most of us have gotten the 4th grade story about women's suffrage and how this movement in the early 20th century just sort of arose out of the ether when women decided (arbitrarily?) that it was time to put their collective high-heeled feet down and demand some rights. Then, as we get a bit older, we get into discussions from the 60's and 70's about equality in the workplace as women start to become more and more career-minded.

The book's author has done quite a bit to step back both from this rote description of fact and from the sometimes venomous feminist rhetoric to try and understand what society in general was actually trying to accomplish. This is a bit of a generalization, but his basic argument is that after the war, people were desperate for some kind of peaceful and quiet existence. The infrastructure developed during the war allowed for a more efficient economy, but it also meant that the household was no longer an actual unit of production. This kind of led to a new division of labor that grew from the old patriarchal system wherein men still tried to "produce" and the women's job was then to manage the household - the new center of "consumption." Not only that, but women (as the socially constructed nurturers) were expected to provide quiet comfort and safety for a somewhat shell-shocked society.

This was important on two different levels. The most immediate was that previously, the "glue" holding households together (particularly agrarian ones, but to some extent also ones in urban settings) was the need to survive. Without this dire necessity, people became a lot more introspective - and at the same time, women in particular started feeling (subconsciously?) that perhaps their innate skills weren't being fully used (which is enough to make anyone kind of unhappy.) This combined with the perhaps subtler effect that modern inventions were ensuring that they developed progressively fewer skills contributed to the creation of the "neurotic housewife" - restless, frustrated, and resentful.

Without getting into a debate about technology as useful vs harmful (I address that below), I think it's an interesting train of thought because it's a way to look at feminism without immediately jumping to the conclusion that men are evil, ignorant pigs who hate women. It's certainly true that they created (or helped create) this role for women that led to some pretty unfulfilling situations, but I think it's hard to actually find or assign much malice here.

Rather, it's more of a look at the roles and ideals that we (as a society) tend to create, and how hard it is to keep an actual perspective on what's going on. It also brings up the question of what, exactly, keeps couples (and families) together as life becomes less and less dependent (at least economically) on having a strong family. It's a double edged sword for a lot of people, because while people presumably have more energy to put into social ties (including relationships), they also have a lot more energy to put into self-fulfillment. People talk a lot about the high divorce rate and how hard it is for people to commit to each other, and how this is a reflection of the loosening morals of the modern age, and how marriage and the family won't actually survive in any positive, recognizable sense.

I don't think so. I would actually tend to argue the opposite. I believe, very strongly, that humans are inherently social. I think that our era can be considered as just another transitional period. It makes sense to me that this seemingly "selfish" society where people are intent on self-fulfillment will probably, in the long run, enable people to actually get GOOD at figuring out what makes them happy and fulfilled. As people learn to reach that fulfillment and stop depending on externalities, healthy relationships become the natural result (as opposed to the zero-sum game that a lot of people still seem to experience...) I acknowledge that my argument is still a bit normative, as I'm assuming that most people will find fulfillment in companionship.

Now that I think about it, though - you could even take away that assumption, and allow for some people to be socially oriented, and others not so much. As it becomes more of a choice and less of a structural imperative, I think it will still result in the same end. (Eg, people who are unhappy in relationships just won't be in them and - importantly - won't need to be, and vice versa for people who are...)

In conclusion, technology is good. Information is good. Efficiency is good. Self actualization is better. I think (hope? delude?) that they're all actually taking us somewhere really, really, good.

(This entry was partially motived by a particularly awful modern dance performance I saw over the weekend which was little more than a 50 minute tantrum about "the challenge of communications in the modern age," and offered little in the way of answers, hope, or even a cohesive message deeper than "it's hard to relate to people sometimes...")

Hacking

The death cough is back.

In other news, they finally released the second homework assignment of the semester in my computer security class. It actually looks like it might be pretty fun; we're supposed to implement a side channel padding attack on some text encrypted using CBC. The only part I'm kind of worried about is writing the code to query their web page...I haven't done much HTML hacking and we've only got a week to get it done.

Finally, I'm trying to decide what to take in the spring. My options, aside from continuing research, include everything from taking no technical classes and finishing out an IR minor, to taking a couple ECE classes (radar imaging + network security) and a couple history classes, to taking a hard CS class (either OS or distributed systems) and a couple history classes.

I'm really tempted towards OS but that's going to be a lot of work...not that I'm not up for it, but I have to make sure I absolutely want to get myself in that deep before I do.

Not 5 Anymore

I just had a pretty cool day.

I found out that my best friend from pre-school (somehow we've, in some sense, kept up with each other over the years) is going to get married in summer 2008...like, this summer. I'm really happy for her; it also made me tear up a bit - it was just strange to think that 16 or 17 years ago we were running around in the classroom and the idea of getting married was something so far in the future as to be almost entirely unreal. I know other people that've gotten engaged and are getting married this summer, of course...this one really made me pause, though, because it gave me that really creepy "big picture/we all grow up so fast" feeling.

I had a really good conversation with my Dad earlier, and I'm looking forward to going home for Thanksgiving. This has definitely been my favorite semester at CMU (so far), but hearing about things at home made me really wish I could be there.

Then I talked to a friend of mine from high school (whom I haven't seen since then) and I'm actually going to see her next weekend since she'll be in a swim meet against Pitt. I'm really excited about that.

Also, I finished writing my history paper in what has to be some kind of record time for me...it took me about 7 hours total to get out a 7 page paper. Granted I took quite awhile to read the actual book before writing the analysis, but I was proud. I feel like I'm actually getting better at writing and thinking about the material - given that it's been a long time since I've actually gotten anything skill-related out of a history class, it was a great feeling.

Actually, my whole weekend has been pretty awesome. Life is good.

Dumble-bore

Everyone's got an opinion, and here's mine: J.K. Rowling's revelation of Dumbledore's sexuality doesn't merit nearly the reaction it's gotten (either positive or negative.)

I read this article in Time which essentially takes issue with the fact that Dumbledore wasn't more "blatantly" gay (if he were to be gay at all), and I think it brought up what has been probably one of the biggest points of contention regarding sexuality that I've seen.

Specifically, it seems to beg the question of how strongly sexuality defines (or should define) a person. I am uncomfortable with Cloud's implied assertion that homosexuality requires a certain degree of portrayal in order not to seem shameful or derogatory, and even more uncomfortable with the idea that sexuality in and of itself inherently needs to be emphasized. I feel like this view of sexuality and characterization causes a really limited attitude toward mankind's true nature and abilities, seeking more to linger in the realm of uncontrollable biological urges.

On a related note, I also take issue with his contention that LOTR contains "homoerotic" material - he seems to be saying that the existence of camaderie or any sort of emotional connection among people in general is necessarily grounded in sexuality, and I don't think that's automatically true. Maybe it is, but I just can't imagine...

I think that Dumbledore's sexuality makes an interesting footnote, but that's about all. Rowling had a clear intention for her books and their message, and I would like to think that in this "tolerant" modern culture one could respect that and appreciate the worldview created within the books' universe without demanding that it be recast in the framework of some entirely discrete social construction.

(Rant...finished.)

Sharps

Alicia slumped down in the right back seat, gazing out the window in resigned anticipation. This assignment didn't sound particularly pleasant, so she distracted herself by watching the suburban town drift by outside the window of the red Nissan.

The Others in the car seemed mercifully oblivious to her presence, which was a blessing. It was sometimes difficult to enforce the distinction between observer and adviser, although lately some of those bugs seemed to have gotten worked out - apparently the code monkeys over in H925W84 had finally gotten the hang of basic social programming. Rocky, the Main Subject, was sitting anxiously beside her while his two Keepers occupied the front seats.

"Mom? Mommm? Moooooooomm?" he whined.

"Please be quiet. We're almost there," was the standard reply.

"There? Will I have to get any shots? Are they going to hurt me?"

"No. We're just going for a checkup."

"Do you promise, Mom?"

"I promise. Settle down."

As the vehicle approached the base's main gates, the three adults produced their ID chips which were scanned for viruses before verifying their owners' identities to the painfully alert young Agent working the guard station. The car proceeded down a somewhat deserted road, passing by a line of pine trees that obscured the beige buildings behind. After two turns, they found themselves in the correct parking lot.

From the outside (and actually, from most places in the inside) the "hospital" looked the same as those that administered to humans. They always fascinated Alicia with their hybrid blend of "traditional" and "live-tissue" treatment techniques for the Others, and she (like most humans) was eagerly awaiting the day when the "live-tissue" treatments actually were meant to treat the Others' legitimate health problems. That was, however, a mental rant for another day. The family was heading into the children's ward, and Alicia grabbed her electronic clipboard and strode in behind them.

The waiting room was as crowded as one might expect, which was also, of course, to be expected. Presently, the sort of studiously calm doctor who would probably break the news of someone having terminal cancer in the same tone of voice that anyone else would use to mention, say, a speck of lint sitting on a sweater appeared and ushered the family back to the exam room. Great. They certainly weren't intending to make this an easy experience for anyone involved.

Rocky, who had passed his evaluation for basic emotional needs a few weeks previously, was squeezing his Mother's hand and looking up at her anxiously. She set him down firmly on the examination table (Alicia stole a look at the doctor's name badge - Dr. Rogers) and took a seat with the Husband along the far wall of the room. Rogers proceeded with a cursory examination of the child, and then announced (in the lint-on-sweater voice), "Okay then, we just need to move everyone down the hall for those shots."

The reaction was as predictable as rain, and as pleasant as ammonium on an open wound. Rocky's terrified screams, jagged and breathless, echoed down the corridor. "YOU LIED! YOUUUUUUU LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!!!!!!!!" Alicia cringed and tried to block out the noise as they navigated down the hall with the Mother carrying Rocky while he flailed around red faced and wailing, simultaneously trying to escape her grip and punish her for her transgression. The Other maintained her quiet stoicism as she conveyed her cargo to its location, her lack of reaction a reflection of the firmware limitations inherent in the older generations.

Dr. Rogers somehow managed to successfully administer the shots on his first attempt. Rocky's protests peaked as the first needle approached his tiny arm, and then tapered off to sobs as the pain proved itself to be both bearable and transient. Alicia thought she detected a flicker of resentment in the Other's hazel eyes as the Mother collected him from his chair, but she dismissed it as impossible.

Glad to be finished, Alicia excused herself and found a data port in the hallway to upload her results for the day. In the comments section of the electronic form, she stated: "They've definitely got trust down to an art form - but go a little easier on the nerve endings next time."

Mindfulness

Today at Mass the homily was about prayer, particularly the idea of persistence in prayer. The priest was relating it back to the first reading, which was about Moses' prayers over the Israelites as they fought off one of their adversaries, and the gospel, which was about a widow earning deference from an uncaring judge after she approached him enough times.

The priest talked about the notion of having to "work" at praying, at starting to "hear the voice of God through the darkness" - which means first having to plunge into that darkness. In this case, darkness is a metaphor both for finding the stillness to perceive God, and for getting over a lot of immediate selfish desires to figure out what's really worth praying for*. He extended this to the idea of using prayer to gain awareness of our own interactions with the world, with the goal of eventually possessing enough equanimity to catch ourselves before jumping into anger, spite, etc.

He could have called the homily "Introduction to Meditation" or "Cultivating Mindfulness" and it would have been the same thing.

In other news.

Yesterday I bought an album called "From the Redwoods to the Rockies" from iTunes. I think it probably falls into the category of "elevator music" from most people's perspective, but I really like it. My parents listened to it quite a number of times growing up, and it has this super warm (albeit at times strangely enhanced electronically) comforting classical guitar sound that I absolutely adore. To me it sounds like fall, and the mountains, and that makes me happy.

* I watched "Amadeus" a couple weeks ago with Colin, and this reminded me of that film.

Bombeck

Let's see.

The past several days have been pretty good. The weekend was a lot of fun; I got to meet Colin's dad, which was cool. I also got to use my call sign for buggy on Saturday morning...one of those "exciting in an utterly nerdly way" experiences.

I spent a lot of time Sunday studying for a computer security midterm, which went poorly. I really need to make sure I get more sleep before midterms - I had some people over to study so I didn't go to bed until around 12:30, which shouldn't have mattered, but then I woke up at 6 and couldn't fall back asleep, and had class all day until the test, so by the time I took it I was just exhausted and couldn't think straight. It was frustrating because I completely blanked on a definition that we really needed, and it was one that I hadn't had any trouble with while I was studying. Even worse was the fact that while I was studying I felt really comfortable with the material, and for some reason I just got to the test and couldn't think. It wasn't even that I was too nervous to think, I just ... couldn't. Blah.

I will say this, though. Overall, I've been thinking a lot more clearly this semester than I have almost at any point in my time at CMU. I think there are a lot of reasons for that, and I'm kind of sad that it took me 3 years to really get to the place I would have wanted to be starting freshman year, but I guess it's better late than never.

Oh, yeah. The homily at Mass on Saturday was pretty good, too. I don't know why I've felt the need to write about them all of a sudden, but in any case... The Gospel was the story where there are a bunch of lepers and Christ cures them. Out of the group of 10, only 1 goes back to him to express gratitude. He doesn't condemn the ones that don't come back, but to the one that does, he says "...your faith has saved you." So, the homily was about gratitude, and not taking things for granted. In this case, being "saved by faith" seems to indicate that the "good" things (in a material sense) that happen aren't supposed to be "rewards" earned from God, and that what comes from faith is really just a deep appreciation for all the good things in life. With that appreciation comes joy, and what could be a better salvation?

Angus Dei

I didn't get to Mass last weekend as a result of being out of town.

For some reason, I really "feel" it when I skip Mass. It's like I become more guarded, more closed, more tight-in-the-chest. I don't think it's that I feel guilty for missing (or if it is, then it's certainly different than every other form of guilt I've experienced.)

Regardless, I headed over to the Oratory tonight for Mass, and I'm glad I did. The Gospel was one of my favorites (this), and the short homily following it really made a good point.

He basically said that in a world where there might be little that we can actually control, one thing we can choose is to live in joy. The point of the Gospel was that it's easy to start resenting other people for not suffering as we might, and that the purpose of work isn't to make us expend effort for effort's sake, but to engage fully in whatever moment we find ourselves.

The priest also talked about how easy it is to become tempted away from joy, and I was reminded again of Buddhist philosophy that says that being too immersed in the world leads to suffering. It always surprises me that so many people who subscribe to the latter belief will write off Christianity for holding the former, mostly as a result of misunderstanding the Christian concept of "sin". "Sin" isn't supposed to be the exclusively subjective designation of a judgmental deity; rather, it's roughly defined as "that which separates us from God." Again, in this case, I don't think it's too useful to think of "God" in a specifically personified sense...the point is just that "sin" can be a useful framework for considering actions and results when it's not being co-opted for judging people.

I should also point out that the priest wasn't talking about "temptation" just for the sake of moralizing; he was trying to relate it back to his point about choosing fulfillment and making sure that we maintain agency over our own attitudes.

Yeah. The more I think about it, the fewer philosophical differences I can identify between the two. Catholicism is more comfortable for me, though. Even after meditating for awhile, even if it's a really good meditation, I just don't come out of it feeling the way I do coming out of Mass. Meh. I guess I don't have to be entirely rational all the time.

Historical Refernce

I am slowly accumulating evidence that my history professor has a grudge against engineers. He said that my first paper was "well written, but mechanistic" (I went through the book too methodically) and my second paper was "well analyzed, but awkwardly phrased." I think the "awkward phrase" comment came at least partially from a statement I made about feedback mechanisms, given the underline and "meaning what...?" that accompanied the sentence, since he didn't make too many other comments on the paper.

Alright, I'm exaggerating, of course, but it's amusing.

In other news.

My weekend was pretty good. Being in Colorado was a lot of fun; on Saturday I got to spend a bunch of time with my Dad. The football game was kind of strange. It was the first time in my life that I'd been at one and not thought, "Maybe I'll be one of them (cadets) some day."

I guess in some ways it also made me step back a bit and look at what I'm doing with my life. Part of my reason for wanting to go to USAFA was the sense of pride and accomplishment I thought I'd gain from surviving something so tough. There's no way to know how I would have really felt after going through it - I remember after spending a week there one summer in high school feeling like the institution was 70% propaganda and 30% sincerity, and it actually took a little while for me to shake that feeling and get excited about applying.

I don't feel the way right now that I hoped I'd feel as a senior in college, but I'm not sure how I do feel. In some ways I just AM - enjoying life and waiting to see what happens, and I've certainly got a lot more freedom than I would have had if things had worked out differently. Freedom is never a bad thing, even as it puts a lot of the responsibility back on me to make sure I'm pushing myself in the right directions.

Engineering Insight

My boyfriend handed me a fortune cookie today, and when I opened it up I found the following message: "Digital circuits are made from analog parts." Not only that, but one of the lucky numbers listed was 34*.

It made my day.

*I think most of you know the significance, but if not: 34 is my favorite number, because it was Walter Payton's number. (He was an amazing running back that played for the Chicago Bears back in the 70's and 80's, and had a heart of gold. His nickname was "Sweetness"...)

The Friendly Confines

This is a delayed reaction, I know, but HOLY CRAP THE CUBS WON THE NL CENTRAL HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP!!!!!!!!!!

I know it's a long (nearly infinite) shot that they'll actually make it to, much less win, the World Series, but a girl can dream. Seriously, though, they could do it. They've had enough decades of "next season" that I think it's finally time. That and Cleveland won their division in the AL, and the Cubs and the Indians apparently are the two teams that have gone the longest without (being in? winning?) the Series, so it would be nice and poetic to see those two go up against each other.

Classes are going pretty well. I have a midterm tomorrow that I'm kind of - not worried about, just dreading. It's going to be a ton of writing, and I've had to memorize a bunch for it, but I think it'll go well. Computer security has yet to feel like anything much more than a seminar (okay, a seminar with weekly quizzes that have a tendency to be kind of tricky at times), and research is still going along.

I'm going to Denver this weekend to visit the family and go to a football game. I'm actually a bit nervous about it since I have a midterm Monday, but it's better than running off for the weekend with a bunch of engineering homework to do. It'll be good to see the parents + extended family again, and I'm looking forward to the mini-vacation. Apparently I'm missing the first weekend of buggy rolls, though, which makes me kind of sad. Oh, well. There's always...the rest of the semester.

I was poking through some old files on my desktop last night, and came across the "compatibility test" I wrote last fall. I'm such a dork. I don't even remember the "right" answer to a couple of the questions.

Overtures

Yesterday was absolutely fantastic.

I went into the lab early, and figured out what was wrong with one of our setups that "mysteriously" quit working the other day. I'd planned on spending much of the day troubleshooting, so then I had a lot of free time. I got lunch with a good friend, then headed home.

Laura and I spent the whole afternoon hanging out...not "doing homework together" hanging out, but actual "I have time to kill" hanging out. It was great. I cut through a bunch more of Cryptonomicon. That book is absolutely hilarious (it's not a funny story, but Stephenson has an amazing ability to phrase things in nerd-speak) and so Laura kept making me read her the passages that made me laugh out loud (LOL).

Anyway, then she headed out to the Pirates game and I got ready to go to the Symphony for class. The PSO performed really well, and the class had good seats on the main floor. During intermission our professor rushed us out to the lobby so we could get our programs signed by the pianist (one of the pieces performed was Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1) and the guy actually looked up from the stream of people to look me in the eye and smile. (I was reminded later that it was just 'cause I'm a girl, but hey, I'll take it.)

After that, I ended up at Gullifty's with the fellow who'd given me a ride to the concert. We walked in and there was a jazz trio playing, so we got to enjoy more live music for awhile (which was convenient since the waitress more or less forgot about us).

Today looks like another good day. There isn't a cloud in the sky, and it's starting to feel like autumn.

Gorman & West

Most kids probably don't care what their parents have on their walls.

I stole those photos from my brother's photostream because I saw them today and they made me happy. And a bit homesick.

I realized today, yet again, how much life really just depends on perceptions and nothing else. I'm actually busier than I was last semester, and doing about the same amount of homework, but I told myself it was going to be an easy semester, so it has been.

This week has been quite a bit more stressful than I anticipated, though, and I'm ready for a break.

Phase Shift

This whole week has been really off balance.

Most of my classes were canceled on Monday, but I was supposed to have a meeting, and that got canceled. And then another meeting for an hour later came up, and got canceled a few hours later. So I ended up just hanging out on campus waiting for meetings that never happened until about 5.

Yesterday I woke up and felt kinda sick, but I went to campus anyway to do some research in the morning, and ended up heading to a tech talk and a meeting in the afternoon, and another meeting in the evening. The evening meeting was actually kind of interesting, so I was glad I stuck around for it.

Today I had more classes, although one of them was still canceled. I got caught up on some research from yesterday and got some reading done. I was planning to go to a makeup session for one of the Monday classes, but then I realized that I'd probably be better off finishing a paper I thought was due tomorrow, so I headed home to do that. As soon as I got home, I found out the paper's now due next week. So now tomorrow I have to stay on campus late to go to the other class makeup session.

I've just felt a couple steps off all week, and it's probably from things constantly ending up at different times and from me not really having a good sense of the actual workload I have for any of my classes since even that stuff keeps getting changed around. I mean yeah, everything that's happened has actually been in my favor, but I just want my routine back. :-P

Santa Monica

The spring that I was in eighth grade, my parents bought me an acoustic guitar. It was some kind of Yamaha; not the most expensive thing ever but certainly nice and easy enough to bang out some chords on.

A few months later, my grandfather died. That whole time was one of the strangest events I've lived through. I remember sitting in my room after hearing about it, crying a bit and playing my guitar. I was teaching myself "Santa Monica" by Everclear. It's not a very complicated song (probably all of about 4 or 5 chords, plus whatever solo) but then, I wasn't very good so it still took awhile. I also recall thinking to myself "Yeah, I can be sitting in my room learning this song as an escape from my torrents of grief..." and realizing that if I was actually THINKING that thought, then playing the guitar probably wasn't actually part of whatever grieving I was doing.

(Okay, Jenn, what's the point?)

Two points, kind of.

Earlier this week, I saw "In the Shadow of the Moon" which is the documentary that just came out about the missions to the Moon starting back in the late 1960's. I loved it (probably drove people nuts with my glee) partially just because the space program is overall awesome, and partially because it reminded me a lot of my grandfather (and of my family in general.) At the risk of sounding melodramatic -- every now and then I get the feeling that Grandpa is really, really, close and that's how I felt for most of the film.

Whenever I get that feeling, it always makes me stop for a second and think, "Would Grandpa be proud of what I'm doing with my life right now?"

It's really easy to want to contrive a life that could fit into a resounding "yes" to that question, which is what I was getting at with the beginning part of this. It's so much easier to live life by putting together the right picture, but I also think that in the long run that makes it harder to get where one actually wants to go.

I guess now I can admit that all the times I got really upset about all the "pressure" at CMU...it wasn't because I honestly felt like other people were expecting things, or I wasn't measuring up, but more just that I wasn't doing as much as I felt I could have, or doing the things I really wanted to (more or less just telling myself I couldn't.) So, I guess the construction can go both ways.

I think all that this entry is saying is that I'm becoming more and more of a Buddhist, which will be highly satisfying for some people to learn (sigh) and is kind of strange for me on a number of levels, in any case. It's hard to imagine giving up going to Mass; at the same time, I'm questioning a lot. I suppose that's good and the idea is that questions lead to truth, no matter what the truth is, but...meh.

Nightmare

First nightmare in awhile last night, probably brought on by a couple conversations I had yesterday evening and right before bed.

I was with Brian and another CMU friend in one of the dorms. We were really bored, so Brian suggested we go get some legal-but-ingestible-things that were supposed to have some as of yet undefined effect on people to try. So we went to the desk, and talked to the girl, and she told us that we had to pay five "points" to get one. I dug around in my pocket and pulled out the points; they were these little figures like hearts and squares made out of cement. I paid the girl and she handed over a couple of the "things" which looked like little chunks (maybe the size of the quarter) of plastic explosive with cement pieces stuck on what were roughly the top and bottom.

We'd just eaten, and she told us that we couldn't take them between meals, so we set off to kill some time. Somehow I got separated from the guys, and wandered into this other part of the building where there was a colony of non-CMU people living. At some point it was made clear that I was to care for this newborn child, so I went to see it in the nursery, which was some kind of mostly open room with a couple palm trees (?) and a crib.

I leaned over to look at the child, and I heard someone saying "...the infant's blood and goat's blood." I felt slightly sick, and reached out to caress the child, and all of a sudden there was a knife in my hand and I was making tiny cuts on the child's arm. As soon as I realized what was happening the knife disappeared, and I was again just caressing the child. I picked him (I think it was a he, although I'm not sure) up and started cuddling him, and got really disconcerted because I didn't feel any of the warm fuzzy human feeling that USUALLY comes from holding a baby.

Anyway, it didn't matter because all of a sudden some woman came into the room with a gun. She told me that I had to leave, with the kid and this other guy, right away. I wasn't sure if the gun was intended for me, or for other people - I couldn't tell if she was helping me escape, or forcing me to go do something. I started walked out to the curb (by now the building had nothing at all to do with CMU) and towards a car that had its back doors open. I was about to get in when the fellow I was with suddenly pulled out a gun of his own. He told me to hold the baby, and stand at the curb with the lady. I started thinking that then would be a good time for something really lucky to happen, because it really seemed like I was about to get shot and I just wasn't too ready to accept that possibility. I walked to the curb, though, and before the lady could get there I woke up.

Last Thing

I love when you're dating someone and getting sorta hurt by something they do (or in some cases, something they DON'T do) and then getting the "Well, it's just the way I am, you should be more understanding of that and not take it so personally" runaround...and then watch as they go on not to have any problems doing for other people what they refused to do for you.

Bleh. I don't know why it's possible to be over someone and still be bothered by things like that. I guess in some ways it's because it ends up feeling like there was something wrong with me during the relationship, or something wrong with me in general. It's even worse when it's not even in the setting of a relationship, and you realize that in some ways as a girlfriend you weren't even as close, or thought of the same ways, as "actual" friends.

I've decided that I've pretty much had it with the whole typical relationship paradigm. In so many cases, it seems to be about person A who is very into person B pursuing person B. I stand by, more than ever now, my earlier statements about relationships as partnerships. Recently I've started to really dislike love songs that talk about people "belonging" to each other, because the idea just seems disgusting to me. Why should anyone want to let someone else own them? More importantly, how could you actually "own" someone you love? Doesn't that really imply losing a LOT of respect for them as a person?

I think it does. I think the biggest problem that I've run into within relationships is exactly that - not understanding that another person's desires and values, and opinions, are just as valid as one's own, and not being able to treat that person accordingly. I may even go so far as to argue that the best way of defining love is in the context of having the deepest respect for a person. In that way, a person becomes seen as a contributor to one's own life, not something that dominates or needs to be dominated.

This is kind of a tricky philosophy, because I've also been in situations where I've been expected to "respect" behaviors that made me deeply uncomfortable. I guess that's where I'd contend that actual respect - as opposed to respect used as an excuse or selfish or bullying mechanism- is able to reconcile itself with another person, and that it shouldn't ever, in any circumstance, even begin to resemble the zero-sum situation that it so often does. More than anything, respect can't be demanded.

I came to the startling realization last night that in the past 7 years I've dated 9 different guys (although in this sense I'm counting anyone I've been "together" with for as little as a week, and another person who never "officially" asked me out but was more or less my boyfriend for a little while...) and it made me realize how many actual dimensions there are to building respect and trust. There was one relationship that really stood out to me as having little mutual respect (mostly because it was built on the both of us trying to be people we genuinely weren't because we were trying so hard, for whatever reason, to please the other) and one that I wish I would have given the chance to work (was back in high school) but didn't.

Only two of them came out of a friendship that had existed for a significant time before the relationship, and unsurprisingly they're also two of the best friends I still have. All the others are somewhere in the middle.

So, this semester has been good because I haven't been in a relationship, or really pursuing one with anyone. I've been a lot more focused and productive, and actually a lot happier. I think I'm finally learning to have that patience that hopefully means that whatever relationship I end up sharing in the future will be something really spectacular, and not that strange power game.

Cotton

Last night I ended up playing dress up and going out to dinner with some people. I didn't know many of the people there that well, but it was a fun crowd. I was put to shame in my ECE identity, though, trying to explain how processors work ("Well, there's this thing called a transistor, and you can build logic gates, and...") - it almost, almost made me miss 240 and wish I was a sophomore again. Almost.

Today I got up and tried to do some reading for class. We're reading this book on the Cotton Gin for one of my history classes, and it's really dry (no pun intended). Seriously, though. The author is making a reasonably well grounded argument but she's also trying to make some points that are a bit of a stretch and ignore the real root of some issues...and really, it just makes her book nearly impossible to read. She jumps from talking about 12th century India to 17th century Britain to 16th century China. Meh. At least it means that when we get to write the paper I'll have enough frustration stored up to write something quasi-snarky and intelligent sounding.

Anyway, I was sitting in Starbucks trying to read and ended up chatting for awhile with one of the girls I had class with last semester who was randomly there after her cello lesson. It was cool, and I got to hear about her time abroad in China this past summer...and she's studying in Germany next semester. Some people have all the fun...

Then I headed over to an event on campus where I ended up hearing this old guy who graduated from CMU sometime in the 70's telling a bunch of crazy CMU stories. I also got to hang out with other people I don't see much and catch up on life a bit...a good afternoon, even if I ended up feeling like a bit of a slacker. :-P

Then I came home and wrote two short papers for class, and went to dinner. Then I read some more of that godawful Cotton Gin treatise and got through enough for Monday.

I guess today's actually been remarkably productive, even though it didn't really feel that way, I guess just from being really distracted. I haven't been thinking about anything in particular; it's just been impossible to focus.

Oh and it turns out that using an Ethernet hub with Comcast is a bad idea, because Comcast only allows one IP address per modem...which I guess actually does make a lot of sense, and explains why only one internet connection worked, and is a lot easier to fix and deal with than a shorted socket.

Money Ain't Grow on Trees

So, I heard back about the car I scratched in the parking deck a month ago. It's going to cost...substantially more...to repair it than I'd thought (convinced myself?) it would.

This is one of those times where I just sit back and ask myself what the heck I was thinking. :-P I didn't mean to do it, sure, but nobody ever does. I can be more careful in the future but that doesn't change the momentary wallet burn...thankfully I have enough to cover it, so I don't have to worry about anything like that, but...sigh.

Anyway. Life is pretty good in spite of that. Last night for class I went to see this "Gardens and Glass" exhibit at the conservatory, and it was AMAZING. We went as the sun was setting, so we got to see some of the sculptures lit up. The whole place felt like some sort of beautiful fantasy world. I ended up leaving earlier than I wanted to because I walked towards the exit without realizing it, and the aisle was one-way so then I HAD to leave...regardless, it made for a great evening. (Oh yeah, beer + Southpark afterward was fun, too. Yesterday was just a good day all around. :-D)

Positive

So, today makes 6 years.

While I was walking into the lab this morning, it occurred to me that from now on, for the rest of my life I'm going to remember at least two particularly bloody anniversaries: 9/11 and 4/16.

Seven years ago, when I started high school, I don't think there was even the most remote possibility in my mind that I'd EVER have even one such day to stick in my memory. That sort of thing just doesn't happen in the United States, right?

I remember reacting to 9/11 with a big-hearted determination to help the world straighten itself out. I still have that, although the intervening 6 years have given me a lot more perspective about the scope of the problems - cultural attitudes, and the human condition. I don't think I'm any less determined, though. Right now I'm excited about the prospect of a life ahead of me - by this time next year, I'll be out in the Real World shaping my own life and future, and hopefully contributing to something Good.

I read some articles today about how some people are using the anniversary of 9/11 as a "Do Good Deeds" day, and I think that's nothing but a good idea. I don't think that there's any value to wallowing in tragedy, but I do think that it's important for everyone to maintain the spirit of giving and of interacting on a truly human level, that seems to come most easily out of tragedy.

I hope there aren't any more days like 9/11 in my future, but no matter what, it's good to know that there are so many good people in my life, and so many good directions that my life is headed right now.

Also, today itself has just been a Good Day. I spent awhile in the lab, and I think I made some progress...not really in terms of getting anything productive done, but I played around with some of the Verilog modules and some of the hardware on the board. Thursday I'm going to start writing software, and it should be fun. I mean that. :-)

Not just that, but after a few days of that quasi-grey state that Pittsburgh is so famous for, this afternoon I stepped outside into a nearly perfect almost-fall day. The sky is this brilliant blue, and there's just barely a chill in the air.

I spent all weekend doing nothing but HOMEWORK, and the past few days doing nothing but CLASS and HOMEWORK and WORK - I'm ready for a break. I've got one paper left to finish tonight after a meeting, and then tomorrow I'm so finding something fun to do after class. I kind of wish clubs weren't so sketchy because I really, really, want to get lost in some loud music and just dance but I felt kind of uncomfortable the last time we went out. Meh. I'll find something. Definitely.

Uncomfortable

So, let's just throw this scenario out there. Lets say you do something to make a girl pretty uncomfortable, and that possibly it involves things like spending the better part of a semester following her around, staring at her while she tries to do homework, trying to grab/hug/squeeze her when she's clearly saying "no" and moving you off of her, and for some godforsaken reason even grabbing her chest after she's been trying to move your arms OFF of her and your hand "slips" by mistake.

Let's say she finally gets fed up with it and tells you not to talk to her anymore?

That also includes not sneaking up on her in public and trying to make physical contact again. That's just creepy. Moreover, it shows that you don't actually have a whole lot of self awareness, or awareness of other people. (Most people also tend to understand that "Hey, staring is really annoying and makes people feel really self conscious", for example.)

Just because you seem to have some internal hangup that says that whatever YOU want and are feeling is automatically what SHE wants and is feeling, and you can't possibly imagine a world in which you actually do make her uncomfortable, if she finally does TELL you that it's the case, you should seriously believe it and leave her alone. Trust me. If someone says "get out of my life" the ball is then in THEIR court to make contact again. It's hard to accept, sure, and most people have a hard time doing that but trust me when I say it makes it much worse to keep persisting.

I wish I could just undo all of last semester. I mean that. I wish I wouldn't have been so naive and let myself get vulnerable enough to keep putting up with behavior that would have ordinarily made any girl put her foot down, hard (possibly on some testicles), and never look back. Be that as it may, it didn't take too long for me to get around to putting my own foot down, and by now it's been there for months. And, guess what - I'm not looking back. Towards either of you. I'm sorry that my IMs, texts, and emails weren't enough for you to really internalize what I'm saying, but I'm serious. Enough is enough.

Grindstone

So, it's been a pretty good week. I still like my classes, and my international relations one is turning out to be really fascinating.

I spent most of the day today in the lab for the research group I'm a part of now. I'm still way out of my depth, and hoping I get up to speed on things soon. We had a meeting today and I felt a bit off talking in front of everyone, but nobody seemed to think that I'd said anything horribly idiotic or anything, so that was good. It looks like I'm going to probably spend most of Tuesdays and Thursdays (and Friday afternoons?) working on the project.

Which means...evenings and weekend for getting stuff done for my other classes. I have two papers due next week and a quiz, which hopefully won't be too awful. I'm going to have to spend most of this weekend reading, though, since I've been lazy (oh and social) up until now and really put off some stuff that I could have cut through over the long weekend. The stress is nowhere near where it was, say, sophomore year though so I'm still pretty happy.

Actually, I'm really happy. I found out a few days ago that I was selected for an award they give out at the department level for being a stellar student and leader. I was really flattered, and kind of taken back...given how often I've talked about wondering if I really belong at CMU it was cool to see that over the past few years I actually have come out of my shell quite a bit, and seemingly made a difference to people around me. Oh, and done relatively well in class. So, yay for me.

Anyway, yeah. I guess this is the part of the semester where I fall back into the "nose to the grindstone" routine. I'm actually looking forward to being back in the "thinking hard, working hard" mode...if it's my last time, it might as well be the best one.

"Loving Kindness"

Yesterday one of my friends loaned me a book titled "Love Walked In" to read. Not having much else to do (besides reading about the role of Cod in the development of American Culture, or about Tchaikovsky's personality, or about SDR, or finishing Cryptonomicon from the summer), I dove in.

It's a great book; better than I expected (even given Katie's rave reviews.)

My favorite quote so far is the following:

"What she came to was that even if someone wasn't perfect or even especially good, you couldn't dismiss the love they felt. Love was always love; it had a rightness all its own, even if the person feeling the love was full of wrongness. Cornelia had said that her father had ignored a child's cries for help. Even a man who would do this could be in love, with a love that mattered. Sitting upright in her living room, in a hundred-year-old chair, Clare trembled in the face of this truth she'd discovered all on her own, and she felt ancient and part of life."

I like the paragraph because it strikes at something that's really challenged me a lot - basically, validating everyone's humanity in the face of very human imperfections. In a lot of cases, it's easy to reduce situations to a question of what another person* "deserves" even though life isn't really about what we deserve, most of the time. A Protestant friend of mine talks about the idea of "total depravity" in which people are called to recognize that humanity is (get ready) - totally morally depraved, and it's only through the grace of God that we become saved.

Stay with me here. I used to really grate against this philosophy because it seemed to be not much more than an excuse for whatever behavior a person wanted to engage in - if we all have the same degree of "badness" and God saved me, then why do I need to try to be good? I realized that I was missing the point, though (I think...correct me if I'm wrong here) and that the philosophy is more the idea that in the face of this imperfection, there is some basis for universal human respect. Some would argue that this basis derives from God (or specifically the death/resurrection of Christ as a sacrifice for the good of humanity), but that's not entirely the point here...

I've been listening to a lot of Buddhist lectures recently, and they talk about the idea of cultivating "loving kindness" for everyone. Again, this is supposed to be the result of airgapping ego and situation, resulting in this sort of compassion that genuinely wants nothing more than for others to be happy just because they exist with an existence just as valid as our own. I think it's true that, regardless of how many awful things a person does, we only want to see them suffer as a result of our own (self-centered) emotional investment in a situation and not as a result of their inherent bad-ness. I'm not saying that it's unreasonable to have emotions, or that I'm anywhere close to letting go of mine...just that it's a comforting philosophy that seems to put ease and insight - and most importantly, ownership - into a lot of situations that might otherwise seem overwhelming.

At Mass tonight the homily was about humility. It's the same thing I've been talking about here...the idea is, again, that by putting ego on the back burner, we actually find ourselves in a much more joyful and loving - and free - position than we'd otherwise be. So many times people equate the Christian idea of "humility" with weakness and subservience, and self-loathing, but that's not supposed to be the case at all. I would argue that it actually takes a lot more confidence and self-acceptance to be humble than to be otherwise and that it's only this humility which lets us understand what the character above was referring to. I'm reminded of "The Great Divorce" by C.S. Lewis here; he expressed what I'm trying to say much more eloquently.

Note that I'm also not arguing for continuing to stay in hurtful or abusive situations here. It's definitely a good thing to try and get away from resentment and hard feelings, and not to leave the past as a live mine buried somewhere. Compassion and partnership are two entirely different situations, though...(this distinction definitely breaks down as one becomes asymptotically close to universal mutual compassion but neither I nor humanity in general are anywhere close to that at this point...)

*Some people also tend to turn this sort of judgment inward, into a "I'm not good enough to ever truly be loved" attitude. I think that this is almost worse than attaching that judgment to others, because I do honestly believe that everyone innately "deserves" and "experiences" love but it's impossible to see that if you're denying it even for yourself. Surprisingly enough, usually dampening this inner critic in favor of some self-acceptance is all it takes to send someone well on his/her way to experiencing that "forbidden love" with another...

Dharma

You think you're over something and then just talking about it makes you really angry.

Hmmm.

I'm getting there, I guess.

I wish I could be a bit less defensive, but the past few months have done wonders for getting me back to good.

Here's to finding the rest of the way, and soon.

Nash

If you happen to be particularly prayerfully inclined, please say one or two for my family.

As far as it goes, I guess things could be much worse. Nobody's dying (or in danger thereof), and we're all in it together - it's not like the family's being split apart, not like anyone's being hurt or betrayed.

All the same, it's hard. Imagine what it would be like if you were just minding your own business living your own life, and all of a sudden you're accosted by a bunch of folk telling you that your world is completely fake. Not only that, but they're going to "fix" you by forcing you to take a bunch of drugs that you don't feel like you need and that pretty much make you feel like an entirely different person.

You'd probably freak the hell out. You'd probably be extremely upset at everyone trying to "help" you since as far as YOU can tell, they're just making it worse. Besides that, you've got this nagging feeling that people are going behind your back, that you aren't in control at all, and that YOUR life and everything you want it to be isn't even actually your own. (Which, actually, is an entirely accurate perception...)

It's enough to ruin anyone's day, really...and enough to make one really frustrated and lash out at anyone trying to help. I've never seen a situation that seems so devoid of ANY hint of a solution.

When I was a freshman, I took a class called "Environmental Rhetoric" and the Big Question throughout the course was "Who Speaks For Nature?" At first I'd thought that the question was asking about who ADVOCATES for nature, but the course was actually getting at a more fundamental question: Who, legitimately, is the VOICE of nature? I feel like we're in a similar situation now...

In other news, life here is still pretty good. I went out last night and had a really good time hanging out with some people I didn't know all that well. Being on Walnut St. brought back fond memories of sophomore year, Laura, and disney songs, hehe. Tonight I'm supposed to be going clubbing with a group of other people...I know I should go have a good time, but right now I'm not really feeling it. I mean, last week I had a lot of fun, but at the same time it takes a lot of energy to go dance and have a good time and not get picked up by scuzzy guys and not get pawed by same scuzzy guys.

People keep on telling me "...You don't really seem like the clubbing type" and I guess in a lot of ways I'm not. I love to dance (also a surprise, it seems, especially since I really don't know how) but I could take or leave a lot of the rest of the experience.

Finally, and I've said this before, but I'll reiterate: I tend to assume that nobody reads this, because I feel like it would be pretty egotistical to assume otherwise, and because most of what I say here I end up talking about in person anyhow...that said, you shouldn't feel like you have to hide the fact that you read it, if you do.

Mondificent

First day of class today. I think I'm really going to enjoy this semester. I have to talk to my research adviser, and figure out what exactly I'm going to be working on, but other than that...things look good. I talked to my academic adviser today to make sure I'm *really* on track to graduate - it's so strange to pull up my academic audit and see all of the requirements actually accounted for. I think I'll be glad that I'm staying around for the spring even though I don't actually need it...and having the end in sight is an amazing feeling. When I was a freshman I don't think I honestly believed that I'd even make it this far...

I went to Mass tonight, too. There's something (even if it's just a romantic notion, and an entirely emotionally based construct) that I love about taking the 30 minutes at the end of the day to just go and sit in that little chapel. It's comfortable, and familiar, and it's an excuse for me to just be and think for awhile, without worrying about anything. I wouldn't enjoy it nearly so much if the priests weren't so good at delivering rational, thoughtful homilies, though...

I mailed in a check to pay for my citation, too. I noticed that they actually spelled my name wrong on the ticket (adding insult to injury, right? After the way I was treated in the first place...) so I included a relatively polite letter with my check pointing out the error. ("Relatively polite" means I replaced the "Maybe you could use some of the extra funds you added onto my $25 fine for an officer education program where you teach them simple tasks such as transcribing a name from a license to a piece of paper" sentence with something a bit more reasonable along the lines of "Look guys, why can't we all just get along and why can't you be a bit nicer, okay?"...)

Anyhow. Life is good.

Grouchy

What a crappy day.

To be fair, last night was a lot of fun. I went out with Christina and Laura and we had an excellent time. I never really expected to end up in a pool (fully clothed) at a nightclub dancing to an 80's cover band, but the sheer novelty was partially what made it such an experience. I'm not sure I'd do it again, either, but ... you only live once, right?

Today was one frustration after another.

We got back in last night at around 0630, and slept for a few hours until about 1130, and then got up to help Laura move her stuff from storage into our apartment. I thought it would be a good idea to use my car to shuttle the stuff, but I'm pretty sure I just ended up making the entire endeavor take longer than it would have to just carry everything from the storage to the apartment since they're only a few hundred feet down the block from each other, and the driveway closest to the elevator at the apartment was full, so we hardly saved any walking and had the additional effort of loading/unloading to deal with.

Then we went shopping, and I think maybe I was just in a bad mood already, but blah. Usually I like shopping (yeah, this is a departure from my opinions of maybe a year or 6 months ago) but today it was just frustrating. I was trying to find a casual dress, but it seemed like everything was super low cut, or had that annoying v-neck bow thing that reveals a lot of boob, or had a fair amount of coverage up front but was made for a cup size about 3 bigger than mine. I hate shopping for nice clothes, because it seems like they just don't make cute stuff for those of us not really blessed with nice full bosoms. It feels like female's clothes are tailored for the "ideal" body instead of real bodies, or maybe mine is just really far out of the norm...sigh. So that was just depressing, and I am a bit disheartened...

Then on the drive back from the mall, I got my first ever citation for a traffic violation. I ran a red light at an intersection downtown, and there was a cop one lane over and a car back. I knew I was running it and chose to do so because there was traffic following close behind me and I'd already started into the intersection when it changed (it wasn't as though I was behind the line when it changed and flooded it or anything). Wrong choice, I know, I know, it's the classic example they give in driver's ed, and I finally got called on pushing the legal boundaries. What was really upsetting was the way the police officer interacted with me.

I pulled over immediately when I saw him, rolled down my window, and started fishing around for my registration. It took me a minute to find my most recent registration card, so he took the opportunity to CALL FOR BACKUP. No kidding. Another police officer arrived on her bike a few seconds later, and stood guard by the passenger side of my vehicle, glaring in at us occasionally. I got a stern lecture not only about running through an intersection on a red light, but about the importance of keeping my glove box organized enough to find my registration right away. Right, whatever. (Okay, yeah it should have been more organized, but all I had to do was pull out the pile, and look through everything until I found it - once through the pile, that was IT. Not like I had to dig through my entire car or anything...)

So then the cop took his OWN sweet time writing up the citation, gave me another lecture, and sent me on my way. When I got around to looking at the citation, I discovered that he'd managed to inflate a $25 fine up to $107 by putting in (seemingly) arbitrary amounts for charges and fines ENTIRELY unrelated to the citation. (Uh, for example, charging me $10 for EMS. Even though there was no mother-loving EMS involved. All I did was run a RED LIGHT, and I didn't hit anyone. There weren't even any pedestrians WAITING to cross.)

This sort of thing drives me up a wall. I'll accept responsibility for breaking the law, but I feel like there's no place for the condescending attitude and all the extra charges. I was TOTALLY cooperative and polite, didn't argue, didn't use any sarcasm, didn't even use any sort of emotionally charged inflections in speaking. To hear the way he was talking to me, you'd think that I'd been swerving down the road in a drunken spree of irresponsibility and then threatening him somehow when I got pulled over.

So, anyway. I dropped Christina off and Laura and I headed on to the grocery store. I got a bunch of groceries and headed up to the checkout to pay for my stuff with my campus declining-cash account (like a debit account, but with money deposited up front, and usable on campus and at a bunch of handy places off campus, blahblahblah). Incidentally, I had a HELL of a time getting the university to open the account for me yesterday, but that's a different story...anyway, when I tried to pay with the card for the account, the system rejected it. I asked the cashier to make sure they accepted it, and she gave me a blank stare and then mumbled something about the store only having one machine that accepted it, and that it wasn't connected, so they couldn't do it, mumble mumble mumble. There are some days when I've got an attitude disposed to arguing during these situations, but I didn't feel like dealing with it so I just paid and went outside to wait for Laura. I'll get a refund at the end of the year with whatever I don't use from the debit account, but...blah. I don't want to keep taking money out of my savings, especially since...

I got home and there was an email waiting for me from the fellow whose car I accidentally scratched in the parking deck the other day. It was actually a really nice and polite email, but he said that it looked like I did enough damage to the car that he's going to have to take it in for body work. He offered to let me choose the body shop, and he'll let me know as soon as he gets an estimate on the cost of the work. So I guess that's not so bad, I'm just not looking forward to paying it...and of course I still feel bad for doing it in the first place :-(

Sigh.