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.
30 August 2007
27 August 2007
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.
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.
25 August 2007
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.
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.
24 August 2007
Arrival
Alicia awoke bright and early to the pseudo ringing of the pseudo alarm clock on her very real mobile telephone. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she wandered downstairs to the hangar where her craft was surrounded by miniature mountains of items she'd need on her upcoming mission. She ignored the friendly needling of the Other who was once again convinced that Alicia had overestimated the Usable Volume (UV) of her SpaceCraft(tm) and began packing. An hour and a half later, the SpaceCraft was filled to the brim and humming in anticipation. Alicia made one last check of the program code of the Other, set a return date for a few months thence, strapped herself into the craft, and entered a course in her craft for Probable Adversity (PA).
It wasn't long before the last vestiges of her dreamscape evaporated from her waking consciousness and she began mentally plotting out the rest of the day's activities, which would commence directly after she checked in with Mission Management in PA. Her immediate tasks appeared relatively straightforward: arrive unscathed at base, transfer her cargo from her craft to her Temporary Quarters, unpack, pass some as-yet-undefined situational Evaluation, and await further instructions. Satisfied that she was as mentally prepared as possible, Alicia set the craft on auto pilot and captured a few more hours' sleep.
After the usual too-short period, she was jarred out of her repose by the unexpected sight of daylight as she approached the base in Holetown. Apparently the Others running this particular base had decided to spend a few extra MegaBucks (MB) up front in order to dispel the incoming recruits' preconceived notions of Holetown's weather patterns. Well. They'd learn soon enough; it was just a matter of time before Holetown's limited bandwidth system used up the administration's surplus MB and returned to its usual dreary demeanor. In the meantime, Alicia had more pressing concerns such as - for example - new recruits wandering around the streets in Chipmunk Valley as though they owned the place.
It wasn't that they were wandering around, she reflected as she did a magnificent job restraining her urge to make meatloaf out of the next ten jaywalkers she spotted, it was that they were wandering around in a haze of total confused oblivion which gave the entire neighborhood a disconnected, uncomfortable aura. Not only that, but they got the in the WAY of oncoming traffic. A new set of more Libertarian traffic laws could surely remedy the situation, but that was neither here nor there (sadly unlike the new recruits...) After successfully navigating the horde, Alicia lost no time in becoming reacquainted with her Biggest Holetown Pet Peeve, namely the Existence of Legally Parked Vehicles in The Middle Of The Fucking Traffic Pattern.
Finally, after narrowly avoiding collisions with only one (as opposed to the usual five or six) Inanimate Disruption of the Traffic Pattern, Alicia pulled into a space in the TQ parking deck. Wait, no, scratch that.
Literally. Alicia groaned to herself as the grating sound of metal on metal echoed through the garage. This was not only not a part of the original plan, but it had the utmost possibility of becoming a major hindrance to the rest of the day's productivity. Pausing only for the briefest second, Alicia did what any other upstanding member of the New Age Religious Federation would have done. Fingering the medallion around her neck, she asked herself, "What would Gaius Baltar do?"
Right. She sped away, to the upper level of the parking deck. She felt vaguely sorry for the poor sap who got his car scraped up, but it wasn't her problem. He shouldn't have parked there if he didn't want to risk the damage.
Wait. Something wasn't right. The Corps had been coming down hard recently on devotees of the NARF, and she was suddenly willing to bet that the car downstairs had been deliberately placed in the flight path. This HAD to be that vaguely defined "Personality evaluation" they'd mentioned earlier. Choking down her disgust at the Corps' self-righteous meddling in her personal Religious Philosophy, she drove back down a level and left her contact information tucked inside the windshield of the errantly placed vehicle. This was just like the Corps - they were never satisfied with just evaluating your general outlook, oh no, they would actually force you to sacrifice a hard-earned paycheck or three to prove your loyalty.
After carefully avoiding any further mishaps in her craft and acquiring the passcode to her TQ during check-in with MM, Alicia began the arduous process of transferring her belongings down the flights of stairs in the parking deck, through length of the TQ complex, up the elevator, and through another length of compex into her room. Completing this phase of her mission took approximately twenty-three million years, during which scientists on the planet Earth apparently perfected transporter beam technology and then refused to share it with anyone else. During trip nine thousand seven hundred and sixty five, she observed how little had changed in the building during the past few months.
For example, from the smell of things the fish special at Kevins Deli was still the exact specimen from last spring. Additionally, the old ladies were still selling the same items at the same bake sale in the Credit Union, and - yes, even the bulletin board at the salon was nearly identical (same pictures, different title.) On trip nine thousand seven hundred and sixty eight, Alicia made a mental note to find out Kevin's birthday so she could give him that extra apostrophe she'd picked up last June at Gram-Mart's clearance sale.
Finally, she was able to move onto the "unpacking" phase of her endeavors. This took surprisingly little time, and soon enough she was enjoying dinner with an Old Friend. After returning to her quarters she made brief contact with Mission Control, at which point she discovered to her immense annoyance that the Parking Deck Incident was actually due to an honest operator error (wait, who plotted the course in the first place...?) and had nothing to do with her actual evaluation. Great. Murray, the desk operator at MC, was predictably obtuse and told her only that she'd want to make sure she was as "confident" and "well-informed" as she could be in the morning, and to report to the HUB for her evaluation...
Fair enough. No sense in worrying about it too terribly much. After showering and burrowing deep into the nest she'd made for herself in the TQ bedroom, Alicia fell into a deep, dreamfilled sleep. Odd dreams ensued, but no nightmares...overall, she reflected the next morning, an auspicious beginning.
It wasn't long before the last vestiges of her dreamscape evaporated from her waking consciousness and she began mentally plotting out the rest of the day's activities, which would commence directly after she checked in with Mission Management in PA. Her immediate tasks appeared relatively straightforward: arrive unscathed at base, transfer her cargo from her craft to her Temporary Quarters, unpack, pass some as-yet-undefined situational Evaluation, and await further instructions. Satisfied that she was as mentally prepared as possible, Alicia set the craft on auto pilot and captured a few more hours' sleep.
After the usual too-short period, she was jarred out of her repose by the unexpected sight of daylight as she approached the base in Holetown. Apparently the Others running this particular base had decided to spend a few extra MegaBucks (MB) up front in order to dispel the incoming recruits' preconceived notions of Holetown's weather patterns. Well. They'd learn soon enough; it was just a matter of time before Holetown's limited bandwidth system used up the administration's surplus MB and returned to its usual dreary demeanor. In the meantime, Alicia had more pressing concerns such as - for example - new recruits wandering around the streets in Chipmunk Valley as though they owned the place.
It wasn't that they were wandering around, she reflected as she did a magnificent job restraining her urge to make meatloaf out of the next ten jaywalkers she spotted, it was that they were wandering around in a haze of total confused oblivion which gave the entire neighborhood a disconnected, uncomfortable aura. Not only that, but they got the in the WAY of oncoming traffic. A new set of more Libertarian traffic laws could surely remedy the situation, but that was neither here nor there (sadly unlike the new recruits...) After successfully navigating the horde, Alicia lost no time in becoming reacquainted with her Biggest Holetown Pet Peeve, namely the Existence of Legally Parked Vehicles in The Middle Of The Fucking Traffic Pattern.
Finally, after narrowly avoiding collisions with only one (as opposed to the usual five or six) Inanimate Disruption of the Traffic Pattern, Alicia pulled into a space in the TQ parking deck. Wait, no, scratch that.
Literally. Alicia groaned to herself as the grating sound of metal on metal echoed through the garage. This was not only not a part of the original plan, but it had the utmost possibility of becoming a major hindrance to the rest of the day's productivity. Pausing only for the briefest second, Alicia did what any other upstanding member of the New Age Religious Federation would have done. Fingering the medallion around her neck, she asked herself, "What would Gaius Baltar do?"
Right. She sped away, to the upper level of the parking deck. She felt vaguely sorry for the poor sap who got his car scraped up, but it wasn't her problem. He shouldn't have parked there if he didn't want to risk the damage.
Wait. Something wasn't right. The Corps had been coming down hard recently on devotees of the NARF, and she was suddenly willing to bet that the car downstairs had been deliberately placed in the flight path. This HAD to be that vaguely defined "Personality evaluation" they'd mentioned earlier. Choking down her disgust at the Corps' self-righteous meddling in her personal Religious Philosophy, she drove back down a level and left her contact information tucked inside the windshield of the errantly placed vehicle. This was just like the Corps - they were never satisfied with just evaluating your general outlook, oh no, they would actually force you to sacrifice a hard-earned paycheck or three to prove your loyalty.
After carefully avoiding any further mishaps in her craft and acquiring the passcode to her TQ during check-in with MM, Alicia began the arduous process of transferring her belongings down the flights of stairs in the parking deck, through length of the TQ complex, up the elevator, and through another length of compex into her room. Completing this phase of her mission took approximately twenty-three million years, during which scientists on the planet Earth apparently perfected transporter beam technology and then refused to share it with anyone else. During trip nine thousand seven hundred and sixty five, she observed how little had changed in the building during the past few months.
For example, from the smell of things the fish special at Kevins Deli was still the exact specimen from last spring. Additionally, the old ladies were still selling the same items at the same bake sale in the Credit Union, and - yes, even the bulletin board at the salon was nearly identical (same pictures, different title.) On trip nine thousand seven hundred and sixty eight, Alicia made a mental note to find out Kevin's birthday so she could give him that extra apostrophe she'd picked up last June at Gram-Mart's clearance sale.
Finally, she was able to move onto the "unpacking" phase of her endeavors. This took surprisingly little time, and soon enough she was enjoying dinner with an Old Friend. After returning to her quarters she made brief contact with Mission Control, at which point she discovered to her immense annoyance that the Parking Deck Incident was actually due to an honest operator error (wait, who plotted the course in the first place...?) and had nothing to do with her actual evaluation. Great. Murray, the desk operator at MC, was predictably obtuse and told her only that she'd want to make sure she was as "confident" and "well-informed" as she could be in the morning, and to report to the HUB for her evaluation...
Fair enough. No sense in worrying about it too terribly much. After showering and burrowing deep into the nest she'd made for herself in the TQ bedroom, Alicia fell into a deep, dreamfilled sleep. Odd dreams ensued, but no nightmares...overall, she reflected the next morning, an auspicious beginning.
23 August 2007
Channel Surfing
Usually the night before I leave for school I don't sleep at all. Last night I slept soundly, just with nightmares. :-P
I kept shifting between two dreams that I don't think were related. In one, I was standing in a place like Wal-Mart, only they were selling all sorts of strange warning items. I ended up talking to two middle aged people who weren't sure how necessary it all was, but they were making some points about how confused and misguided "today's youth" is, and how someone really needs to do something about it soon. The only thing that was nightmareish at all was that I was basically trapped there, listening to this completely depressing conversation about how dumb my generation is and how nobody took any precautions at all with us, and how they might have to go back and teach us some kind of lesson. Whenever I got really frustrated and wanted to wake up, it would switch over to the other dream.
In the other one, my grandfather had died. For most of it, I was just in the car with my Mom driving to the funeral home. As soon as I got really upset, I'd hit the other dream again. I finally woke up for real when we arrived at the funeral home, and were getting out of the car to walk into the place where they prepare the bodies.
Um, in other news, I think it's actually going to be a good year (more on that later...)
I kept shifting between two dreams that I don't think were related. In one, I was standing in a place like Wal-Mart, only they were selling all sorts of strange warning items. I ended up talking to two middle aged people who weren't sure how necessary it all was, but they were making some points about how confused and misguided "today's youth" is, and how someone really needs to do something about it soon. The only thing that was nightmareish at all was that I was basically trapped there, listening to this completely depressing conversation about how dumb my generation is and how nobody took any precautions at all with us, and how they might have to go back and teach us some kind of lesson. Whenever I got really frustrated and wanted to wake up, it would switch over to the other dream.
In the other one, my grandfather had died. For most of it, I was just in the car with my Mom driving to the funeral home. As soon as I got really upset, I'd hit the other dream again. I finally woke up for real when we arrived at the funeral home, and were getting out of the car to walk into the place where they prepare the bodies.
Um, in other news, I think it's actually going to be a good year (more on that later...)
21 August 2007
Talking To Strangers
I went into DC today, and it was pretty fun. I'd intended to go to St. Matthew's for Mass, but while I was sitting there I got the impulse to leave, so I did. I spent awhile wandering around looking for an Indian restaurant, because I was craving Indian food...I finally got to a street that had one, and stopped a few restaurants down from it to check out this Italian place that looked really good. While I was standing there deliberating, some random guy came up behind me and mentioned that the Indian place a few doors down was really good. After I got over the nearly-shitting-myself impulse response, I headed over for the Indian lunch buffet. I ended up sitting with the guy who'd spoken to me on the street, and we had a pretty pleasant conversation. It turns out that he's a fairly well established criminal defense attorney for the DC/Maryland area, and he spent awhile telling me about some of his cases and the general stresses that go along with the job. It seemed like he just needed someone to listen for awhile, so that's what I did.
Funny how things work out like that sometimes. If I hadn't left the Cathedral before Mass, and if I hadn't been craving Indian food, then the guy would have wolfed down a meal while reading his copy of the New York Post (heh) and then headed back to his office. I felt for him and his family - he was telling me how much he's struggled recently with making time for the family and keeping up with his work. I told him a bit about how my parents had managed to work out the balancing act really well, and what a difference it made for me and my brother. It seemed like my saying that had some sort of impact on him; maybe it did, and maybe not...
I thought up a telling of that story which was much more poetic and dramatic, but kind of lost the flavor over the past few hours.
I've gotten a lot more neutral recently. It's been WAY good for my mental health, but it's bad for creativity - there's something to be said for fostering enough piss and vengeance to pour out some amusingly sarcastic and concise prose. It seems like most great creative minds were deeply mentally disturbed in some way or another, and there's almost certainly a quantifiable tradeoff here.
Funny how things work out like that sometimes. If I hadn't left the Cathedral before Mass, and if I hadn't been craving Indian food, then the guy would have wolfed down a meal while reading his copy of the New York Post (heh) and then headed back to his office. I felt for him and his family - he was telling me how much he's struggled recently with making time for the family and keeping up with his work. I told him a bit about how my parents had managed to work out the balancing act really well, and what a difference it made for me and my brother. It seemed like my saying that had some sort of impact on him; maybe it did, and maybe not...
I thought up a telling of that story which was much more poetic and dramatic, but kind of lost the flavor over the past few hours.
I've gotten a lot more neutral recently. It's been WAY good for my mental health, but it's bad for creativity - there's something to be said for fostering enough piss and vengeance to pour out some amusingly sarcastic and concise prose. It seems like most great creative minds were deeply mentally disturbed in some way or another, and there's almost certainly a quantifiable tradeoff here.
20 August 2007
Talking Points
The problem with having entire days filled with doing things like cleaning my room is that I think a lot, and come up with a lot of things I want to write about. A sampling of today's thoughts:
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I saw a commercial today for a device that's supposed to help people who have trouble hearing...and proceeded to be really creeped out by the commercial mentioning that the device would help people listen in on conversations from across the room / across the street. Maybe this is on par with hypocricial whining about Facebook's news feed, but I was kind of freaked out that a product would advertise itself on the basis of its ability to make it easier to invade pricvacy. Then again, the commercial was on the Military channel where I was watching a documentary about Hitler and the secret Nazi Occult, so...
----
I heard an interesting theory today about relationships. It was kind of complicated, and I'm still digesting, but here's my best attempt at a precis:
Most people end up being attracted unconsciously to someone who reminds them of one of their parents, and usually it's the parent that they had the most trouble with growing up. This is because they've put so much energy into thinking about and dealing with that parent, that someone with similar characteristics actually feels comfortable and familiar. Not only that, but meeting such a person gives one a chance to actually resolve things from childhood that never actually got resolved - a chance to make communication better, or be validated, for example.
So, that's one part. Another part is that people tend to be annoyed by traits in others based on traits that their own parents stifled in them. This makes sense, from a more practical perspective than the book's authors were willing to admit - we're taught from an early age that things like lying and stealing are wrong. It's reasonable that most parents have an additional worldview that assigns taboos to certain thoughts and behaviors. The problems arise when these thoughts and behaviors are actually normal or even healthy, but for whatever reason have been squashed by the parents. This could be anything from a choice in career ("My parents wouldn't let me study art!") to certain ways of expressing themselves ("My parents never cared about what I actualy thought or felt so I had to make sure always to be stoic around them").
The point here is that we have reactions to, and make assumptions about, our partners based purely on instincts created by our parents. Specifically, we find faults in our significant others that acually reflect pieces of our own selves that we'd still like to know and be in touch with solely because we were taught from an early age that such characteristics were undesirable. This combined with that tendency to be attracted to a personality type that once caused us a lot of problem actually seems like it might be a reasonable explanation for a lot of relationships going sour after the inital "romance" phase.
What's the solution, then? Well, the authors offered a couple, to address the two mostly separate points they brought up. One is to take the familiarity that comes from being with someone you're initially attracted to and use the trust that comes out of that as a basis to actually resolve a lot of the problems that you might have been faced with earlier in life. Perhaps you never felt really accepted by a parent - but now you've found someone to accept you. Another solution is to realize that you're probably so annoyed by that person's habits (assuming that they aren't blatantly immoral or unhealthy) becuase you're projecting traits that you're uncomfortable with in yourself onto them - and then to start loving those traits in the other person. Apparently this has the subconscious effect of making you accept those traits in yourself - making you at once more reconciled with yourself and more loving and open to your partner (blah blah blah touchy feely blah lol).
It all makes sense from a really convoluted perspective, I guess. Honestly it seems like a lot of back and forth for something that could actually be a lot more straightforward...I guess it's also true though that anything that's a part of our actual subconscious isn't going to be a part of our normal, rational, thought and so maybe there are extra steps for reconciling things in our subconscious.
Finally, I was kind of surprised that the authors didn't acknowlege that some people do have a perfectly normal, healthy childhood. I guess the answer for those people is that they find someone similar to people they relate to on a healthy level and don't really run into those resentments or tensions? Or is everyone supposed to have at least one or two schisms between self and self-as-influenced-by-parents?
----
Finally, I'm once again realizing the limitations of modern medicine. It's so, so, so, incredibly scary to realize that there just aren't any easy or straightforward answers for some things. It's absolutely heartbreaking to watch someone you love be poked and prodded and medicated, but not really have their symptoms or condition well understood enough to be medicated and counselled helpfully. I mean, hopefully I'm being overly cynical here - right now I am just really frustrated and kind of upset after watching things unfold - it's just that sometimes it seems like for all our progress we really haven't gotten any closer to addressing the root problems of a lot of disorders...
----
I saw a commercial today for a device that's supposed to help people who have trouble hearing...and proceeded to be really creeped out by the commercial mentioning that the device would help people listen in on conversations from across the room / across the street. Maybe this is on par with hypocricial whining about Facebook's news feed, but I was kind of freaked out that a product would advertise itself on the basis of its ability to make it easier to invade pricvacy. Then again, the commercial was on the Military channel where I was watching a documentary about Hitler and the secret Nazi Occult, so...
----
I heard an interesting theory today about relationships. It was kind of complicated, and I'm still digesting, but here's my best attempt at a precis:
Most people end up being attracted unconsciously to someone who reminds them of one of their parents, and usually it's the parent that they had the most trouble with growing up. This is because they've put so much energy into thinking about and dealing with that parent, that someone with similar characteristics actually feels comfortable and familiar. Not only that, but meeting such a person gives one a chance to actually resolve things from childhood that never actually got resolved - a chance to make communication better, or be validated, for example.
So, that's one part. Another part is that people tend to be annoyed by traits in others based on traits that their own parents stifled in them. This makes sense, from a more practical perspective than the book's authors were willing to admit - we're taught from an early age that things like lying and stealing are wrong. It's reasonable that most parents have an additional worldview that assigns taboos to certain thoughts and behaviors. The problems arise when these thoughts and behaviors are actually normal or even healthy, but for whatever reason have been squashed by the parents. This could be anything from a choice in career ("My parents wouldn't let me study art!") to certain ways of expressing themselves ("My parents never cared about what I actualy thought or felt so I had to make sure always to be stoic around them").
The point here is that we have reactions to, and make assumptions about, our partners based purely on instincts created by our parents. Specifically, we find faults in our significant others that acually reflect pieces of our own selves that we'd still like to know and be in touch with solely because we were taught from an early age that such characteristics were undesirable. This combined with that tendency to be attracted to a personality type that once caused us a lot of problem actually seems like it might be a reasonable explanation for a lot of relationships going sour after the inital "romance" phase.
What's the solution, then? Well, the authors offered a couple, to address the two mostly separate points they brought up. One is to take the familiarity that comes from being with someone you're initially attracted to and use the trust that comes out of that as a basis to actually resolve a lot of the problems that you might have been faced with earlier in life. Perhaps you never felt really accepted by a parent - but now you've found someone to accept you. Another solution is to realize that you're probably so annoyed by that person's habits (assuming that they aren't blatantly immoral or unhealthy) becuase you're projecting traits that you're uncomfortable with in yourself onto them - and then to start loving those traits in the other person. Apparently this has the subconscious effect of making you accept those traits in yourself - making you at once more reconciled with yourself and more loving and open to your partner (blah blah blah touchy feely blah lol).
It all makes sense from a really convoluted perspective, I guess. Honestly it seems like a lot of back and forth for something that could actually be a lot more straightforward...I guess it's also true though that anything that's a part of our actual subconscious isn't going to be a part of our normal, rational, thought and so maybe there are extra steps for reconciling things in our subconscious.
Finally, I was kind of surprised that the authors didn't acknowlege that some people do have a perfectly normal, healthy childhood. I guess the answer for those people is that they find someone similar to people they relate to on a healthy level and don't really run into those resentments or tensions? Or is everyone supposed to have at least one or two schisms between self and self-as-influenced-by-parents?
----
Finally, I'm once again realizing the limitations of modern medicine. It's so, so, so, incredibly scary to realize that there just aren't any easy or straightforward answers for some things. It's absolutely heartbreaking to watch someone you love be poked and prodded and medicated, but not really have their symptoms or condition well understood enough to be medicated and counselled helpfully. I mean, hopefully I'm being overly cynical here - right now I am just really frustrated and kind of upset after watching things unfold - it's just that sometimes it seems like for all our progress we really haven't gotten any closer to addressing the root problems of a lot of disorders...
Became
Two weekends ago I saw “Becoming Jane” with some of the girls. Not having known anything about Jane Austen’s life before seeing the movie, I’ll admit that I was pretty bummed out by the ending. The true story that inspired “Pride and Prejudice” seemed – more than anything – to be a depressing reminder that the reason many stories end happily is that they are written as an escape from the dreary and painful nature of real life.
The more I think about it, though, the more I think that “Becoming Jane” should actually be considered somewhat of a triumphant story. First, even though Jane and her rogue suitor never get to wed, it is still momentous that they do find Actual Love in each other. I think that perhaps this (whole entry) is a somewhat obvious point that can often get taken for granted. How many people do ever encounter the sort of love that buoys the spirit, that acts as a true companion to one’s own soul? I don’t know. I hope that most people do...
Second, I think Jane’s decision to return to her family in order to prevent Tom from having to lose his position and quit supporting his own family shows a sort of selflessness often absent from most people’s attitudes about love and relationships. Her realization that the elopement would eventually lead to resentment that would stifle the pair’s love shows an admirable depth of understanding about the nature and value of love.
Jane and Tom were lucky. At the least, they didn’t part on bad terms, and they were able to live out their respective lives while maintaining ownership of their bond. That Tom would name his daughter after Jane and that Jane would write an immortal novel conceived from their relationship demonstrates that the companionship between two kindred spirits can still be corporeal even when the two are kept from a conventional partnership. How much more painful their lives would have been had they not both possessed the maturity to make sensible choices, and in some ways – not to give up on each other.
So – if her situation, this finding of love, is such a good thing in spite of the fact that she lives out her life as a spinster, then what’s the point of love in the first place?
I argue that love itself is only good for its own sake. Love can only be counted on for letting us know that we do have a kindred spirit, and that in the deepest sense possible We Are Not Alone. Anything beyond that – and I would also think that some sort of acknowledgement is essential in either case - is icing.
Certainly, love becomes an essential ingredient for, say, successfully starting and maintaining a family. I think though that a lot of people make the mistake of chaining love to expectation and obligation at the expense of practicality. I would contend, as Jane did, that Actual Love *demands* no such things, and that to use love as leverage for gaining those truly only stifles the connection that might otherwise have survived or even flourished when left to its own devices.
As I said, nothing too earth shattering here today, but it seemed worth writing about.
The more I think about it, though, the more I think that “Becoming Jane” should actually be considered somewhat of a triumphant story. First, even though Jane and her rogue suitor never get to wed, it is still momentous that they do find Actual Love in each other. I think that perhaps this (whole entry) is a somewhat obvious point that can often get taken for granted. How many people do ever encounter the sort of love that buoys the spirit, that acts as a true companion to one’s own soul? I don’t know. I hope that most people do...
Second, I think Jane’s decision to return to her family in order to prevent Tom from having to lose his position and quit supporting his own family shows a sort of selflessness often absent from most people’s attitudes about love and relationships. Her realization that the elopement would eventually lead to resentment that would stifle the pair’s love shows an admirable depth of understanding about the nature and value of love.
Jane and Tom were lucky. At the least, they didn’t part on bad terms, and they were able to live out their respective lives while maintaining ownership of their bond. That Tom would name his daughter after Jane and that Jane would write an immortal novel conceived from their relationship demonstrates that the companionship between two kindred spirits can still be corporeal even when the two are kept from a conventional partnership. How much more painful their lives would have been had they not both possessed the maturity to make sensible choices, and in some ways – not to give up on each other.
So – if her situation, this finding of love, is such a good thing in spite of the fact that she lives out her life as a spinster, then what’s the point of love in the first place?
I argue that love itself is only good for its own sake. Love can only be counted on for letting us know that we do have a kindred spirit, and that in the deepest sense possible We Are Not Alone. Anything beyond that – and I would also think that some sort of acknowledgement is essential in either case - is icing.
Certainly, love becomes an essential ingredient for, say, successfully starting and maintaining a family. I think though that a lot of people make the mistake of chaining love to expectation and obligation at the expense of practicality. I would contend, as Jane did, that Actual Love *demands* no such things, and that to use love as leverage for gaining those truly only stifles the connection that might otherwise have survived or even flourished when left to its own devices.
As I said, nothing too earth shattering here today, but it seemed worth writing about.
17 August 2007
The Best Last Day
So, today was pretty much awesome. My office took me out to lunch since it was my last day, and they gave me a really sweet card. Right at the end of the meal my boss got the waitress to grab a bunch of the staff so I could be publicly humiliated - instead of "Happy Birthday" or some such, I got "Hit the road Jenn, and don't come back no more..." and a sombrero that I had to wear while I ate dessert.
After that I grabbed my friend and we went home early. On the drive we passed a couple of deer by the road (yes, still alive) - a Mommy and her two babies. They were completely and utterly amazingly adorable. I said my goodbyes to my friend, and thankfully it wasn't a sad occasion. I hate goodbyes with a passion, and really tend to prefer the "okay, see you later" sort of parting.
After that I got my stuff packed out of the apartment. I talked to another friend of mine for awhile on one of my trips out to the car, and we established our goodbye as well.
I waited for rush hour to end, said one last goodbye - this to my roommate - and headed out. Driving away from the apartment felt the same as it had all summer, as if I were just going to my parents' for a bit and I'd be back soon enough. I still think that part of me still hasn't really accepted that it's nearly time for classes to start again. There are at least two unpleasant situations that I'm not looking forward to facing when I get back to Pittsburgh, but I guess that's all just part of life's challenges. Overall, I'll be glad to be back...especially to see Laura. Goodness have I missed that girl...
In any case, yeah. I made it to the parents' house safe and sound. I shot the shit with them for awhile, and got caught up on everything that's happened over the past few weeks. I gave Mom a sip of the beer (my last Blue Moon) I was working through, and she hated it. Poor woman.
I'll be out of town the next couple days with the parents. Things might get kind of strange and stressful, but I'm looking forward to the time with the family.
I think this semester I'm going to try talking more on the phone, and less online. I've spent so much time this summer away from the computer and away from sitting around on AIM for hours and hours, and I'd really like to keep that up.
After that I grabbed my friend and we went home early. On the drive we passed a couple of deer by the road (yes, still alive) - a Mommy and her two babies. They were completely and utterly amazingly adorable. I said my goodbyes to my friend, and thankfully it wasn't a sad occasion. I hate goodbyes with a passion, and really tend to prefer the "okay, see you later" sort of parting.
After that I got my stuff packed out of the apartment. I talked to another friend of mine for awhile on one of my trips out to the car, and we established our goodbye as well.
I waited for rush hour to end, said one last goodbye - this to my roommate - and headed out. Driving away from the apartment felt the same as it had all summer, as if I were just going to my parents' for a bit and I'd be back soon enough. I still think that part of me still hasn't really accepted that it's nearly time for classes to start again. There are at least two unpleasant situations that I'm not looking forward to facing when I get back to Pittsburgh, but I guess that's all just part of life's challenges. Overall, I'll be glad to be back...especially to see Laura. Goodness have I missed that girl...
In any case, yeah. I made it to the parents' house safe and sound. I shot the shit with them for awhile, and got caught up on everything that's happened over the past few weeks. I gave Mom a sip of the beer (my last Blue Moon) I was working through, and she hated it. Poor woman.
I'll be out of town the next couple days with the parents. Things might get kind of strange and stressful, but I'm looking forward to the time with the family.
I think this semester I'm going to try talking more on the phone, and less online. I've spent so much time this summer away from the computer and away from sitting around on AIM for hours and hours, and I'd really like to keep that up.
15 August 2007
Movies
Last night I had dinner with a good friend of mine, as I have on quite a few Tuesday nights over the course of the summer. Over dessert we had a really good conversation, mostly about college and graduation, and what senior year is and isn't good for.
As we were walking toward the escalator in Nordstrom's, the lady playing began a new song. It was a cover of Bette Middler's "The Rose" - which really made me smile because the song (okay, old and cliche as it may be) talks about a lot of the same things we'd discussed a few minutes before. We walked off the escalator and out the doors with the song still drifting in the background, and truly it was like something out of the movies.
I'm just about ready to declare my summer officially over. Tomorrow I'll start packing, and Friday or Saturday I'll be driving back to my parents'. It occurred to me that fairly soon it'll be an entire year since Brian broke up with me - for some reason, I'd forgotten how quickly time goes by. I remember everything that I wanted to accomplish immediately as a result of the breakup and it's taken me a good deal longer than I'd anticipated, but I think I've actually made a lot of progress by now. It's definitely resulted more from just living my life and focusing on taking a day at a time - and less from spending time trying to "fix" or change myself.
It makes me wonder how many of us tend to live life in this "always thinking three steps ahead" mode. In some situations, that attitude is absolutely necessary; however, I think in most cases it pays off to be really careful about not taking life too quickly and to look beneath the surface of every day. I think we all envy those people who have it together enough to be able to fully experience every new situation, because we realize how much we miss out on by not living in the moment, by not being satisfied enough with our past and worrying way too much about the future.
It's funny because a lot of people tend to equate "living in the moment" with being utterly reckless, but of course that's not what I'm advocating. There's this idea of being "fully present*" that has come up (of all places) in a lot of theology classes I've taken, and it's an idea I'm trying to really take to heart. Ironically enough, the only way to really do that is to not think so hard about doing it, and just be careful not to keep making the same mistakes that'll hold me back. I think that if I can do that this year, it'll be a great one.
So, anyway. Two more days of work, a trip home, a bunch of cleaning and repacking, some kind of retreat or trip, and then back to school. I'm more ready than I've ever been, I think.
*Comes up in a lot of discussions about the dignity of human life, and the importance of finding meaningful work in order to realize some sort of significance in the Big Plan. The idea is basically that you owe it to - whatever force created existence, even if that was random chance itself - to live fully in every moment provided to you; otherwise you're cheating yourself as well as your responsibilities as a steward of the Earth. I'll admit that I kind of like the idea of having a moral imperative to get the most out of life. It's entirely possible to take that as a very contrived bit of rhetoric, especially if you aren't willing to take the idea of a God or any absolute sense of human responsibility as axioms, but to me it's comforting, so I go with it. I think I could also make a convincing argument about human happiness and successful lives growing out of that kind of imperative, but that wasn't my point here...
As we were walking toward the escalator in Nordstrom's, the lady playing began a new song. It was a cover of Bette Middler's "The Rose" - which really made me smile because the song (okay, old and cliche as it may be) talks about a lot of the same things we'd discussed a few minutes before. We walked off the escalator and out the doors with the song still drifting in the background, and truly it was like something out of the movies.
I'm just about ready to declare my summer officially over. Tomorrow I'll start packing, and Friday or Saturday I'll be driving back to my parents'. It occurred to me that fairly soon it'll be an entire year since Brian broke up with me - for some reason, I'd forgotten how quickly time goes by. I remember everything that I wanted to accomplish immediately as a result of the breakup and it's taken me a good deal longer than I'd anticipated, but I think I've actually made a lot of progress by now. It's definitely resulted more from just living my life and focusing on taking a day at a time - and less from spending time trying to "fix" or change myself.
It makes me wonder how many of us tend to live life in this "always thinking three steps ahead" mode. In some situations, that attitude is absolutely necessary; however, I think in most cases it pays off to be really careful about not taking life too quickly and to look beneath the surface of every day. I think we all envy those people who have it together enough to be able to fully experience every new situation, because we realize how much we miss out on by not living in the moment, by not being satisfied enough with our past and worrying way too much about the future.
It's funny because a lot of people tend to equate "living in the moment" with being utterly reckless, but of course that's not what I'm advocating. There's this idea of being "fully present*" that has come up (of all places) in a lot of theology classes I've taken, and it's an idea I'm trying to really take to heart. Ironically enough, the only way to really do that is to not think so hard about doing it, and just be careful not to keep making the same mistakes that'll hold me back. I think that if I can do that this year, it'll be a great one.
So, anyway. Two more days of work, a trip home, a bunch of cleaning and repacking, some kind of retreat or trip, and then back to school. I'm more ready than I've ever been, I think.
*Comes up in a lot of discussions about the dignity of human life, and the importance of finding meaningful work in order to realize some sort of significance in the Big Plan. The idea is basically that you owe it to - whatever force created existence, even if that was random chance itself - to live fully in every moment provided to you; otherwise you're cheating yourself as well as your responsibilities as a steward of the Earth. I'll admit that I kind of like the idea of having a moral imperative to get the most out of life. It's entirely possible to take that as a very contrived bit of rhetoric, especially if you aren't willing to take the idea of a God or any absolute sense of human responsibility as axioms, but to me it's comforting, so I go with it. I think I could also make a convincing argument about human happiness and successful lives growing out of that kind of imperative, but that wasn't my point here...
13 August 2007
Uncharacteristic
It's been awhile since I've remembered any dreams.
Last night I dreamt that my roommate for the summer was hanging out in the living room and for some reason, I was trying to sleep. I went out (not angrily at all) to ask her to turn down the TV or stereo or whatever she had on, and as soon as I said anything, she got Really Mad.
"Well, maybe you should have shown a little more respect to Barrett's video games and his controllers!"
What?!
"I don't know what you're talking about..."
"We came back once and the controllers were thrown all over the place, like you'd messed with them and not put them back where they belonged. Why did you do that, Jenn?"
"Um...Do you really think ... I ... of all people, would just start messing with video games?"
"Whatever, I guess they just ended up that way accidentally, right?"
After that, I went off for a normal day of work, all the while being really upset that somehow I'd managed to really tick her off. When my alarm went off and I realized it was all a dream - thankfully - I didn't have to think too hard to get the message.
I'm worrying way way way too much about the small stuff.
Last night I dreamt that my roommate for the summer was hanging out in the living room and for some reason, I was trying to sleep. I went out (not angrily at all) to ask her to turn down the TV or stereo or whatever she had on, and as soon as I said anything, she got Really Mad.
"Well, maybe you should have shown a little more respect to Barrett's video games and his controllers!"
What?!
"I don't know what you're talking about..."
"We came back once and the controllers were thrown all over the place, like you'd messed with them and not put them back where they belonged. Why did you do that, Jenn?"
"Um...Do you really think ... I ... of all people, would just start messing with video games?"
"Whatever, I guess they just ended up that way accidentally, right?"
After that, I went off for a normal day of work, all the while being really upset that somehow I'd managed to really tick her off. When my alarm went off and I realized it was all a dream - thankfully - I didn't have to think too hard to get the message.
I'm worrying way way way too much about the small stuff.
12 August 2007
Forest Anthem
Today at Mass the closing song was a "hymn" called "Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory."
I had to laugh, because as soon as they started playing it I realized that it wasn't actually intended to be a Church song...
Its real name is "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" and it's a Civil War song, written by a guy from South Carolina. When my family lived in Burke, my brother and I took piano lessons. We both learned that song, and my brother really loved it - he was a huge Civil War buff. We would pound that thing out constantly - I'm sure it drove my Mom completely nuts - and sometimes when we were out back (in the "forest") playing we'd end up singing it as we ran around battling whatever army we were facing at the time, or gathering supplies for our next fort.
Those were good times. I remembered a lot of memories today that I hadn't thought about in years.
I had to laugh, because as soon as they started playing it I realized that it wasn't actually intended to be a Church song...
Its real name is "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" and it's a Civil War song, written by a guy from South Carolina. When my family lived in Burke, my brother and I took piano lessons. We both learned that song, and my brother really loved it - he was a huge Civil War buff. We would pound that thing out constantly - I'm sure it drove my Mom completely nuts - and sometimes when we were out back (in the "forest") playing we'd end up singing it as we ran around battling whatever army we were facing at the time, or gathering supplies for our next fort.
Those were good times. I remembered a lot of memories today that I hadn't thought about in years.
11 August 2007
Two-Vision
I'm definitely the sort of person that tends to soak up the behaviors of people close to me...not blindly, of course, but certainly in the sense of reaching out for things to relate, or ways to cope, or just trying something new that might make sense.
Today was kind of a strange day. Work was pretty good. I came home and sat around for awhile, then went by Blockbuster and rented a few DVD's of TV shows. I made dinner, and got a phone call from my Mom.
Holy hell. I really don't even know how to react. On one hand, it's been brewing for awhile, and on the other hand it's so completely surreal that I feel like I can't do anything besides make a joke about it and just wait and see what happens. This is one of those times where you start to really question reality - where relativism seems to be, at the best, a shallow excuse for not really understanding what ANYTHING really is. A small frame of reference and a limited range of expectations only serve to enhance this feeling of waltzing aimlessly through a football field when you're only used to a four-square court...
Anyway, after that I drove my friend's loveseat down to his parents' house. The drive itself was actually pretty shitty; there was a huge accident and we got stuck in traffic for awhile before we finally decided to change routes. We eventually arrived at the house, though, and unloaded the furniture. I got to meet his parents, and they seemed pretty nice. I think the best part of the whole evening was just having a few hours to bullshit, joke, laugh, and generally not take life too seriously. His Mom, of all people, thanked me for taking the time to drive it down for him...
Once again, I am reminded of the value of friendship.
After we got back and parted ways, I watched more TV. Actually, first I had a very brief debate about human nature. It seems like most people are selfish - selfish and cowardly. It's so depressing - we'd all like to think that we rise above that, but do we really? And for those of us that think we're better - are we really? Or does the fact that we think so discount everything else? Anyhow. The show I was watching made a really good comment about relationships.
The basic idea was that the better you know someone, and the closer you are, the harder it is to open up to them. I think this makes sense for a large majority of people - if not logically, then at least experientially. Once someone knows you well enough to know your weaknesses, opening up to them becomes much more a process of losing face. There's much more at stake, and for some reason - vulnerabilities just magnify. It's easier to turn to someone who is a relative outsider, who hasn't invested as much in you emotionally, to admit your failings - indeed, your very humanity. You would think that this wouldn't be the case - you would think that someone who knows you intimately would be able to understand and to support you better than anyone else - and it's probably true - but at the same time, we shy away from that. It's a matter of trust, as Billy Joel would say.
I'm in a really strange mood right now. It's one of those times where I wish I could just crack myself open and spill out onto the pavement, jump up, go running, and listen to some music. There's a lot to be said for staying in stellar form - but the good experiences, the ones worth remembering, all come from other times.
I wish I could dance. When I was a kid, I wanted to take dance lessons but didn't actually go for it because I didn't want to have to be in a recital. I had all this energy, and I loved music - but I didn't want to be in a position where I might possibly have the slightest chance of embarrassing myself. That kind of attitude is so limiting, though. Maybe if I'd gotten past that back then my life would be totally different now. Looking back regretfully doesn't change anything, but maybe it does go for motivating me to do things differently now. I'm a lot less self-conscious now than I used to be, which is a good thing, I think.
Today was kind of a strange day. Work was pretty good. I came home and sat around for awhile, then went by Blockbuster and rented a few DVD's of TV shows. I made dinner, and got a phone call from my Mom.
Holy hell. I really don't even know how to react. On one hand, it's been brewing for awhile, and on the other hand it's so completely surreal that I feel like I can't do anything besides make a joke about it and just wait and see what happens. This is one of those times where you start to really question reality - where relativism seems to be, at the best, a shallow excuse for not really understanding what ANYTHING really is. A small frame of reference and a limited range of expectations only serve to enhance this feeling of waltzing aimlessly through a football field when you're only used to a four-square court...
Anyway, after that I drove my friend's loveseat down to his parents' house. The drive itself was actually pretty shitty; there was a huge accident and we got stuck in traffic for awhile before we finally decided to change routes. We eventually arrived at the house, though, and unloaded the furniture. I got to meet his parents, and they seemed pretty nice. I think the best part of the whole evening was just having a few hours to bullshit, joke, laugh, and generally not take life too seriously. His Mom, of all people, thanked me for taking the time to drive it down for him...
Once again, I am reminded of the value of friendship.
After we got back and parted ways, I watched more TV. Actually, first I had a very brief debate about human nature. It seems like most people are selfish - selfish and cowardly. It's so depressing - we'd all like to think that we rise above that, but do we really? And for those of us that think we're better - are we really? Or does the fact that we think so discount everything else? Anyhow. The show I was watching made a really good comment about relationships.
The basic idea was that the better you know someone, and the closer you are, the harder it is to open up to them. I think this makes sense for a large majority of people - if not logically, then at least experientially. Once someone knows you well enough to know your weaknesses, opening up to them becomes much more a process of losing face. There's much more at stake, and for some reason - vulnerabilities just magnify. It's easier to turn to someone who is a relative outsider, who hasn't invested as much in you emotionally, to admit your failings - indeed, your very humanity. You would think that this wouldn't be the case - you would think that someone who knows you intimately would be able to understand and to support you better than anyone else - and it's probably true - but at the same time, we shy away from that. It's a matter of trust, as Billy Joel would say.
I'm in a really strange mood right now. It's one of those times where I wish I could just crack myself open and spill out onto the pavement, jump up, go running, and listen to some music. There's a lot to be said for staying in stellar form - but the good experiences, the ones worth remembering, all come from other times.
I wish I could dance. When I was a kid, I wanted to take dance lessons but didn't actually go for it because I didn't want to have to be in a recital. I had all this energy, and I loved music - but I didn't want to be in a position where I might possibly have the slightest chance of embarrassing myself. That kind of attitude is so limiting, though. Maybe if I'd gotten past that back then my life would be totally different now. Looking back regretfully doesn't change anything, but maybe it does go for motivating me to do things differently now. I'm a lot less self-conscious now than I used to be, which is a good thing, I think.
10 August 2007
Dizzying Up
Yesterday at work I got REALLY dizzy. I don't know what happened, but I was in the middle of a conversation and all of a sudden the room just started moving, and moving, and moving. It didn't go away for about an hour...after that I felt more or less okay.
The same thing happened once last summer, but I thought it was a result of taking some allergy medication on an empty stomach + orange juice. Yesterday I hadn't eaten anything out of the ordinary, and I'm not taking any medication anymore...
Maybe I'm just tired?
The same thing happened once last summer, but I thought it was a result of taking some allergy medication on an empty stomach + orange juice. Yesterday I hadn't eaten anything out of the ordinary, and I'm not taking any medication anymore...
Maybe I'm just tired?
06 August 2007
Nice to Know You
I guess this is kind of an obvious conclusion, but I was thinking tonight about how much people can get to feel like they know someone from reading a blog. I don't mind, certainly, whatever I put on the internet is fair game. It does kind of make me wonder how lopsided that can make things though - how easy is it to forget that the feeling of knowing someone so well might only go one way?
I wish I knew many of you better.
I wish I knew many of you better.
05 August 2007
Snow Crash
I've been reading a fair amount this summer (more at the beginning than recently), and I have to say that Snow Crash ended up in my top two favorites so far, with the other one being "Without Remorse" by Tom Clancy.
"Snow Crash" reminded me in some ways of "East of Eden" in that the story ended up mirroring a mythological event which was itself central to the plot of the book. "East of Eden" accomplished this with a bit more subtlety and grace, but I'm not going to criticize too harshly here...
The novel occurs both in the real world and the "Metaverse" (Neal Stephenson's name for virtual reality) and documents the spread of a virus in both realms, along with the main characters' attempts to stop it. In the real world (admittedly my favorite of the two settings) the virus is spread largely through a form of Christianity that loosely (very loosely) resembles Pentecostalism. At first I was mildly offended because Stephenson's initial portrayal of Christianity reminded me of Heinlein's, but as I doggedly stuck with the story I was comforted to see that Stephenson bothered to make distinctions between types of monotheism - some were related to spreading the virus, and some weren't. The virus tends to replicate via a person's blind acceptance - by exploiting the emotional, irrational core of a person, and so it is possible to resist the virus to some extent by developing critical thinking skills in the areas that the virus tended to exploit.
I feel like I can really relate to one of the characters, Juanita. (And not just because that was ALWAYS my name in Spanish class...) She goes voluntarily to join the cult spreading the virus after she spends years with Jesuits developing "immunities" to it. When Hiro Protagonist, her ex-and-possibly-new-lover and actual protagonist in the novel, asks her why she's done so she replies with a pretty simple answer: she's interested in religion and hacking, and she wanted to know how it was done - she wanted to be able to do what the virus did, just for the sake of knowing. Yes.
The book also talked a bit about relationships, and some of the points really hit home.
"Hiro, you are such a geek. She's a woman, you're a dude. You're not supposed to understand her. That's not what she's after."
"Well, what is she after, do you suppose - keeping in mind that you've never actually met the woman, and that you're going out with Raven?"
"She doesn't want you to understand her. She knows that's impossible. She just wants you to understand yourself. Everything else is negotiable."
The above was spoken by Y.T. (stands for "Yours Truly"), the other female character in the book. Usually for whatever reason I don't really relate to the female characters in books I read, but sometimes I could almost imagine myself saying and thinking a lot of her words and thoughts. Somehow Stephenson managed to pull off two excellent characterizations of Girls Who Do Computer Stuff.
Anyway, I can't really do the book justice. Suffice to say, it was a highly satisfying read. Many thanks, Dan.
"Snow Crash" reminded me in some ways of "East of Eden" in that the story ended up mirroring a mythological event which was itself central to the plot of the book. "East of Eden" accomplished this with a bit more subtlety and grace, but I'm not going to criticize too harshly here...
The novel occurs both in the real world and the "Metaverse" (Neal Stephenson's name for virtual reality) and documents the spread of a virus in both realms, along with the main characters' attempts to stop it. In the real world (admittedly my favorite of the two settings) the virus is spread largely through a form of Christianity that loosely (very loosely) resembles Pentecostalism. At first I was mildly offended because Stephenson's initial portrayal of Christianity reminded me of Heinlein's, but as I doggedly stuck with the story I was comforted to see that Stephenson bothered to make distinctions between types of monotheism - some were related to spreading the virus, and some weren't. The virus tends to replicate via a person's blind acceptance - by exploiting the emotional, irrational core of a person, and so it is possible to resist the virus to some extent by developing critical thinking skills in the areas that the virus tended to exploit.
I feel like I can really relate to one of the characters, Juanita. (And not just because that was ALWAYS my name in Spanish class...) She goes voluntarily to join the cult spreading the virus after she spends years with Jesuits developing "immunities" to it. When Hiro Protagonist, her ex-and-possibly-new-lover and actual protagonist in the novel, asks her why she's done so she replies with a pretty simple answer: she's interested in religion and hacking, and she wanted to know how it was done - she wanted to be able to do what the virus did, just for the sake of knowing. Yes.
The book also talked a bit about relationships, and some of the points really hit home.
"Hiro, you are such a geek. She's a woman, you're a dude. You're not supposed to understand her. That's not what she's after."
"Well, what is she after, do you suppose - keeping in mind that you've never actually met the woman, and that you're going out with Raven?"
"She doesn't want you to understand her. She knows that's impossible. She just wants you to understand yourself. Everything else is negotiable."
The above was spoken by Y.T. (stands for "Yours Truly"), the other female character in the book. Usually for whatever reason I don't really relate to the female characters in books I read, but sometimes I could almost imagine myself saying and thinking a lot of her words and thoughts. Somehow Stephenson managed to pull off two excellent characterizations of Girls Who Do Computer Stuff.
Anyway, I can't really do the book justice. Suffice to say, it was a highly satisfying read. Many thanks, Dan.
Pushover
Am I too nice?
There's a line between diplomacy and being a yes-(wo)man, I guess...
In other news: I finally finished reading Snow Crash yesterday while I watched the Cubs beat up on the Mets. It's a great book. More on that soon...
Oh yeah - holy crap, GO CUBS!
There's a line between diplomacy and being a yes-(wo)man, I guess...
In other news: I finally finished reading Snow Crash yesterday while I watched the Cubs beat up on the Mets. It's a great book. More on that soon...
Oh yeah - holy crap, GO CUBS!
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