Thursday, November 24, 2005

At least the pie is good...

So here I sit in front of my mother's clunky old desktop, wishing I had a laptop to write on so I could get something done for NaNo (which I will once again lose). My livejournal friends' page indicates that most of my college friends are scattered to their respective homes for the break (the school was only providing limited housing over break). It's also indicating that none of them are that happy to be home. Sure, it's great to see my little sisters again, but in all honesty I'd rather have gone to my boyfriend's Thanksgiving meal than my own. His family wanted me there; my family saw him walk in last night when I came back from visiting with him, and pretty much ignored him. -_-

Sure, he's not Mr. Perfect, and he acts immature sometimes - so do we all. What I don't understand is why my little sister was staring at him like she wanted to push him out the door as fast as possible, or why my mother was too busy arranging placemats to see how they'd look to even ask him about work or his family. It made me feel like he was unwanted here, which was an insult to me as much as to him. Goddamnit. My mother says the siblings are suffering from 'in-law syndrome', but that's crazy, considering mom doesn't think we should even stay together. She wants us to break up so I can shop around for someone better. The middle sister agrees and the little one, even though she's 13 and angsty, agrees in less eloquent terms - she throws adolescent insults at him ("You're nuttier than a squirrel turd!" was her favorite for a while). I am not happy about this, obviously, but I'm sure everyone's heard enough of my whining. On to Thanksgiving.

Mom got a 14lb turkey for 7 people. Yipe. She also did mashed potatoes, squash, Great-Aunt Someone's Cranberry Salad (pretty good stuff), stuffing, gravy, the works. It was good food and there was plenty of it. Then we sat around for a while and came back to the table later for pie. Mmm, pumpkin and apple with vanilla ice cream :). And then my stepbrother and his when-are-they-going-to-get-married girlfriend (they've been together since before he moved out 3 years ago) took off for home, and I washed some of the dishes before we ran out of hot water. Fun thing about living in an old house is that the water heater never quite keeps up with the demands of a family of 5, especially when all of them are at home. It also means that the dishwasher isn't a machine - it's usually a kid. I wonder how many people actually wash dishes by hand these days. Kids are missing out on so much fun...

There is what looks like two and a half feet of snow outside, most of which fell last night. This morning I was amazed by the blizzard even though I've lived in New York most of my life and should be used to the sudden winters. Back at school there was no snow yet and the roses outside Fisher Auditorium were still blooming.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Here we go again...

Here we sit like birdies in the wilderness,
Birdies in the wilderness,
Birdies in the wilderness,
Here we sit like birdies in the wilderness,
Waiting for...

My mother, who said she was leaving at 6am to get here by 8:30, is LATE. I can think up several reasons for this, though. A) I don't care if you leave at 4am, you're going to hit construction, hills and probably rain/snow on the way down here. Never have I gotten from home to the dorm in two and a half hours, even going 60 down the winding hills the whole way. B) She got up late. It invariably happens that something sets her back from the start, and it's either waking up late or sitting in front of the computer for an hour. C)She's standing outside in the cold because she forgot the phone number to my room so she can tell me she's here. If this is the case she's not only late, she's silly, because I tell her every time I see her, and I went out to get food 45 minutes ago when I expected her to be arriving, and she wasn't there. Meh.

I'm going to be rather put out if I'm late for this appointment because I didn't have a ride. It will grind the fact that I don't have my own transportation very deeply into my already tender sense of pride. I try very hard not to depend on other people if I can do it myself, and waiting for oft-late rides makes me fidgety. At least if I was driving I'd have an excuse - I've been lost ten miles from home before.

I'm finally going home for Thanksgiving - and planning on spending most of my time at home locked in my room. Actually I'm planning on spending most of the time up north away from home. I have friends to reconnect with and places to revisit and I don't want to be trapped in a smoke-filled house with my ever-present younger sisters and their special brand of insanity. I love you guys, don't get me wrong, but yikes.
..okay, mom's here. Off for another 5 hours in a car.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

New Orleans Revisited

TIME Magazine reports on New Orleans. Another saddening look at the nation's inability to help itself... on any level.

We're worried about Iraq, we're trying to figure out Afghanistan, we're running legislative circles around gay rights. There are a half million political issues that people can and will get fired up about, but New Orleans isn't leading them right now. I've heard of only a few efforts to go help with cleanup and reconstruction. One of them came from a local group who went to save stray animals and bring them back for temporary housing until they were claimed or adopted. Small a thing as this is, it's help. It gets potentially dangerous or dead animals off the streets and into a warm, clean environment where they can be taken care of. It saves the lives of peoples' pets, and offers an opportunity for their owners to get on their feet before they claim their beloved companions. It keeps the streets free of dying animals, which in its small way reduces health risks for workers and residents.

There are other little things. A group here wanted to go down there over fall break, while I went to Canada, and help out. Another trip was scheduled for either Thanksgiving or Christmas. It won't be many people, I can guarantee it. But it will be help. Unfortunately these tiny student-run ventures don't get press, or great results. What can a dozen college students do, anyway? It's tough to get things organized, to get food and water and building materials shipped in, and to get people into safe housing. We can't do it alone, but here the government is tying itself in knots because of holdups with various agencies. Screw the agencies. Spend the relief money on dump trucks and bring Habitat for Humanity in. Plans for 5 years from now? What about plans for tomorrow? If I were in charge I would have settled in for a long haul - tearing down the hurricane-damaged buildings and rebuilding. What needs to be debated?

Things like this make me hate America and wish I wasn't tied to my schoolwork. We are a country of self-serving fools, and if I knew of anywhere it was radically different, I'd move immediately. At least I'd help out more, if I had the means to get to where I was needed.

Mmm, you smell like... celery?

I found this linked by a commenter over at Present Simple and thought that's interesting, I wonder exactly what scents they have. So I looked here and found the complete list. Oh, boy. They've got everything. Wouldn't you love to buy a bottle of "Pruning Shears" or "Mildew"? I stared at the list for a while. The only thing I can think to say about it is that they've got more scents than Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans (tm) has flavors. What, exactly, does "Celery" smell like? I'm curious. Do you think any stores around here carry these?

Friday, November 18, 2005

A Dream

I had a dream last night. I don't remember anything of what it was about, but there was a girl in it. I remember that part because she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She was a modern Helen of Troy, the person I might steal away and someone would want to send a million war planes after. She was Plato's Form of Beauty incarnate. Flawless. Her exact appearance is a blur, though; it was only because she looked up from doing something that I noticed her at all. I think I was handing her and her friend something, and she looked up and in the dream I think she smiled, but all I really remember is the awake part of my brain snapping to attention and saying "WOW!" and then I lost the dream thread and couldn't find it again.
I have absolutely no idea why I just dreamed the most stunningly gorgeous woman in the world. I also have no idea why I tried to remember her face and thought "She looks a little bit like Tarah."
A lot of people I know say dreams mean something. I'm sure in some way they do, because there have been many times when I've been able to attribute some emotion or occurance to something that happened in my dreams, but at the same time I don't think they can ever be taken at face value. Dreams are curious things. People write books about them, give speeches about them, base careers off interpreting them. Everyone and their grandmother has their own interpretation of symbolism in dreams, too. Some people think they can read into their own, some are good at reading into other peoples'. My friend and I used to try to interpret each other's dreams, and I got pretty good at telling her things that applied to her life, but I doubt I could do it with a stranger.
Something that strikes me as odd about myself is that I can't ever remember dreaming about flying. I've heard that dreaming of flight is one of the most common dreams people have, but I don't remember even a single flight, and only two or three when I awoke because I thought I was actually falling.
On a less odd topic, it snowed all day yesterday. None of it stuck, of course, despite hope that it would. In my opinion if it's going to snow it ought to do so furiously and drop at least a foot on the ground, or leave off entirely and give us some more sunny days.
I haven't heard anything about the riots in France, or hurricane cleanup, or politics lately. Actually, national/world news hasn't been making it into hearing range much these days and I think I should read the NY Times but I don't have it. Time, that is. The newspaper is delivered daily, for free.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Death of a snowflake

Fae sits sleepily at the computer trying not to put her head down on the keyboard. A voice from the hall suddenly cuts through the computer's faint hum:
"Did you look outside yet?"
"It's snowing."

And that it is. But they'll all melt; the ground is too warm still.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Procrastination

Your Blog Should Be Green

Your blog is smart and thoughtful - not a lot of fluff.
You enjoy a good discussion, especially if it involves picking apart ideas.
However, you tend to get easily annoyed by any thoughtless comments in your blog.


My livejournal should be purple, apparently. Ha. Haha. Hahahaha.... okay, I'm done.

I'm tired of all of this, and I can see no way out except patience, but my patience is already worn through in places. I don't think I can handle two more years of this.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Today,

it looked and felt like winter.

Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine,
A million tomorrows shall all pass away,
ere I forget all the joys that are mine today.

I'll be a dandy and I'll be a rover,
you'll know who I am by the songs that I sing.
I'll feast at your table, I'll sleep in your clover,
Who cares what tomorrow shall bring?

Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine,
A million tomorrows shall all pass away,
ere I forget all the joys that are mine today.

I can't be contented with yesterday's glories,
I can't live on promises winter to spring.
Today is my moment and now is my story,
I'll laugh and I'll cry and I'll sing.

Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine,
A million tomorrows shall all pass away,
ere I forget all the joys that are mine today.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Modern art?

Someone thought it was funny...



I officially am having a BAD day now. It was a highlight to find this bit of twisted napkin-holder on one of the tables tonight, and even more of one when our manager got laughed at for saying it was a little guy ("So what's that between his legs?"). I wanted to share it in full color with you all, but apparently the send malfunctioned and since I'm broke and don't have free pix messaging, I'll let you figure it out on your own.

Oh, and Verizon? Stop with the ad campaign. I hate filling my blog with useless sales pitches...

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

What, therefore, should we do?

There is a new magazine starting up here in the Honors College (and soon to expand outside of it). It's called edgewise, and while I think the website could use another design opinion (or at least a flash-less version for those of us who like plain HTML), the magazine itself seems really interesting. At least, the idea does. They're going for a concept called "fusion journalism" which aims to combine six sub-areas under one umbrella topic every month. The areas range from sports to economics, which means it's got something for everyone, but it also makes one wonder exactly how they're going to manage to put everything together in a way that relates back to the core issue. Well, I'm willing to try it.

The concept, as explained by the editor, is something like our Honors Core - we take one subject or issue and look at it from a circle of disciplines. In core they're history, literature, philosophy, music, and science. In the magazine, they're Culture and Fashion, Economics, Politics and Law, Sports, Arts and Science and something else I can't remember. It's cool, in a very intellectual sense. On a random note, "cool" is now an acronym for something undiscussable... or so the boys I'm tutoring tell me. I said they were cool kids assuming that a few years wouldn't have changed the meaning of the word, and they laughed and said "eww, do you know what that means?". (Actually I have the feeling I heard them tell me or each other what it meant at the beginning of the sessions, but can't remember)

So back to Edgewise. We had a meeting tonight and discussed what the holiday issue would be about. Most of us liked the idea of doing a holiday issue related to Christmas - specifically, What is the Meaning of Christmas? It's going to be fun. We tossed out some ideas, figured out that we could pretty easily come up with some nice articles on consumerism and the Christmas spirit, and left. I like this magazine staff. They appreciate humor. :)

But the day isn't ending on the greatest of notes again. I'm falling behind in word count and suddenly have the awful feeling that November is going to look rather like October did: miserable. It seems that for every little good thing, something larger and awful happens. I guess I just want one day this month when I can sit down at the end and say "I had a wonderful day."

Monday, November 07, 2005

Powerful words

"Paki in the Middle". A poem by Salman Shaheen. I stumbled across this site while searching for the effect of the recent war(s) on Afghani poetry. My Research Writing class isn't demanding but there's just not a lot of sources out there, and when she says 'Find 8 to 15 and use only the best' it's alarming to find only four or five worth reading. There are other poems on the site which also caught my eye, but you can find them for yourself. I'm back to my research... and some more noveling.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Upsets

Nature has a sense of humor. Unfortunately, so do I. The day started out beautifully (aside from some strong gusts of wind) and when I joined the group going to the Humane Society I decided to go with the walkers because heck, it was a great day to take a walk. In fact, it was too nice to be November. Nature seemed like it was having fun by making it feel like summer again. "Nature, I hate you." I told the sky, because it's not fair to withhold weather like this until so late in the year. I could have used it last week when it was cold and icky out and I needed to feel better. Anyway... two minutes after I said that, the wind picked up and the rain started. And it just kept raining harder, and the wind got even worse, until at one point it was just blasting us with horizontal droplets. I laughed like crazy at this, especially when it quit just before we got to the HS building. So we walked in soaking wet, and were giggling about how we'd probably end up covered in cat fur. I did, too. It was a good few hours.

Then things got icky. I was cold on the way back because my jacket and jeans were still damp and the wind was still pretty strong. I got back here and talked to my boyfriend and he had some upsetting news. And then my mother called to give me more unhappy news and tell me that she didn't want me to see the neurologist after all because, hey, if one of the vertebrae is misaligned isn't it a chiropractic thing? So now she wants me to get the neurologist to look at the scans before I go in, which means I have to get the hospital to send them to the neurologist and hope that they get looked at and I get a response before the 22nd. And maybe I'll have to go to someone else instead. Joy, more running through red tape. Why couldn't they have just fucking told me it might be a problem WHILE I WAS STILL IN THE E.R.? Anyway.

And the meeting we had for my theatre group didn't get anywhere, really. A lot of people bitched about certain things and suggested the same things we've been suggesting and the president was far too agreeable with things and the only progress that was made in my opinion was the notation to appoint someone new as webmaster, because she wants to do it and our current officer is graduating.

I don't know. Things just... meh.

Oh. And my word count is currently 10,387. I'm 385 words ahead of the minimum for today. This isn't bad, but it's certainly not great considering how busy I'm going to be the next few days.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Let the madness begin!

This morning at 12:01am, thousands of sleepy writers typed the first letters of what will become an epic mountain of words: 50,000 of them. I was among the bright-eyed, caffiene-addicted crew who set off early in an attempt to capture a head start on their word counts for the month of November. Turn your inner editors off, folks - National Novel Writing Month is officially under way.

I have a title, I have a skeleton plot, and I have characters who are slowly but surely being wrapped in adjectives and thought bubbles. Eventually this will be a great novel, or at least a great attempt at holding a plot together while focusing on quantity, not quality. At least it's more preparation than last year's, and hopefully it will serve me well when I run out of ideas.

Words in my blog don't work toward my final count, so entries will probably be shorter, at least until I lose sight of the plot in week three (I hope it takes that long) and start looking for ways to distract myself from the characters screaming at me. ^_^ It's not too late to join, so if you're willing to risk your social life for the novel you always wanted to write, head over to www.nanowrimo.org and sign up - you won't regret it. :)

But stay away from the forums - I blame my utter and complete failure the last two years on that mass of procrastinating writers.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Meme.

Self-tagged (because she didn't pick anyone) from BadAunt's blog.

Rules of the game: Post 5 Weird and Random Facts about yourself, then at the end list the names of 5 people who are next in line to do this.

They're mostly from my past, because my future goals don't count and my present is boring.

1. For as long as I can remember I have had a ritual that accompanied the first real (if it stays overnight it counts) snowfall. I will go outside barefoot and dance in the newly accumulated snow.

2. I believe in unicorns.

3. I had a strawberry cake with lemon icing on it for my birthday one year. My parents decorated it with several plastic horses. That was the last birthday I ever spent with my friend Autumn.

4. I used to want to change my name to Michelle. Now I love my name.

5. My favorite song is "You Are My Sunshine." When I was little I had a black and white teddy bear that played the song when you pressed its paw. I wish I remembered all the words.

5 People who should do this:
Rick, Allison, Stephanie, Jamie and Rio?
Or first five to comment.

This is An Opinionated Post

Girl Scout Camp was a topic of discussion tonight while the cast of "The Lottery" waited for our call. I remain fascinated by the number of girls who know the same songs I do, were in Girl Scouts for years, and will talk for hours comparing what we know.

Tonight was the night of our theatre group's Halloween double double-feature (two back-to-back shows in one performance, two full performances). We performed a student-written play called "A Glint of Silver" and a version of the well-known short story "The Lottery." Glint of Silver was creepy. "I'll do anything for you..."
Lottery was creepy in the 'I know people who act like that' kind of way, I guess. If you've read the story you get the idea. We had a great ending to it, in my opinion. Everyone waited until the woman's son threw the first stone, and then crowded around, screaming and throwing foam rocks until she finally stopped crying out, and then everything paused. Still-frame, while the little girl in the background sings a skipping-rhyme - "How many years will you done last, how many papers will you pass, over and over the lottery comes, over and over it takes its sums." She'd sung it earlier while she skipped rope - perfectly innocent. And then the end. Boom. You realize what the rhyme means. The stage is washed in red light, which fades artistically (well, as artistically as possible given our ancient and sparse lighting system) into black. A five-second blackout, two seconds of light which reveal all of us standing in a line, then blackness again and we disappear. The audience should have been STUNNED. Of course we had a small audience and our acting wasn't flawless (hey, we're amateurs who can't make it into the theatre majors' productions), but I think we did all right. Most importantly, we had fun.

Halloween is Monday, and I officially don't care. If I do anything at all it'll be wrapping my cape around myself and stalking theatrically down the hall to trick-or-treat. No parties to go to, no candy to hand out, no friends to hang with (that I know of) and lots of homework to do. And planning... for NaNo. NaNo is the bigger event, as far as I'm concerned. At this point it may not be worth starting, but the HMS Optimism is still afloat and it's not going down as tragically as Titanic if I have anything to say about it. This is my third NaNo attempt and it's going to be a success if I have to type in my sleep to do it. Who needs sleep anyway? That's what caffeine is for, right? *giggle*

Friday, October 28, 2005

Rotary subluxation?

The medical records from the ER finally made their way to the health center here on campus, where I had gone to check the possibility of getting help in finding a neurologist who had a working phone number and an appointment open earlier than December. They included my radiology results, which have pretty much no comprehensible information in them unless you're a doctor. The paper is full of big technical words for a very simple problem. The nurse did explain it to me, though. She was very helpful and even tried to look up a diagram to show me which bones they were talking about. Apparently the top vertebra in my spine is slightly rotated and sitting weirdly on top of the second one, which may have been due to the way my head was (the scan showed it tilted to the right). It could also have been a problem I was born with. They're not sure. What they think it means is that the vertebra was misplaced because of the accident and they want me to get it looked at more closely. Considering that the report also says "The spinal canal appears uncompromised," I'm not worried. It doesn't hurt.

Today felt like a very short day so far. I went to one class, skipped the next to go to the health center and would have missed the third but it was an optional field trip anyway. I have to usher for Miss Saigon tonight, which means most of my evening is automatically gone. The highlights of the day were talking to the lady at the pasta station and getting a smile, and finding a stowaway piece of chicken in my pasta which was supposed to have only mushrooms in it. I like the little things in life, especially during times when I don't have anything big to smile about.

None of my homework for this week has been finished yet, and I honestly don't care much. My midterm grades look more hopeful than I dared expect.

Halloween is coming... yay? I don't have a costume. I was originally going to use my little chinese silk dress that I'm in the process of sewing but I never did get it finished. Then I thought about being a zombified foodservice worker, but that requires buying makeup, and I don't have anywhere to go anyway. I also considered being the Food Fairy, with a chicken nugget on the top of my wand, but that idea is not only unrecognizeable, it's silly. I don't do silly, because I'm already silly enough without emphasizing it. And the entire idea of Halloween just doesn't appeal any more.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Oops.

I rear-ended someone last night on the way back from Pittsburgh after having spent my entire fall break in Canada (nice, eh?). The car is totaled, my neck is sore and after an hour and a half in a hospital with a neck brace on, they gave me a CAT scan, a prescription for a muscle relaxant that I probably won't fill, and a "You're fine, you'll be sore, go home." Then they called me back this morning and told me something might be wrong. They want me to talk to a neurosurgeon who I haven't been able to get in contact with yet and have a neck brace/collar put on. Gah.

Rick came to get me, at least. I called him first and he came right out and sat with me in the hospital, then drove me home. He's a wonderful boyfriend ^_^. I feel bad that he called off work today because he stayed here to make sure I was okay last night, but I'm also really glad he did stay. Last night sucked.

Canada was nice, though. I got to meet Rick's ex-girlfriend, and she's nice. I'm afraid I was a bit territorial and clingy. I'd say it was more habit than conscious action - I don't mind the thought of hanging out with her. I hope she didn't think I was entirely nuts (although it's better than being thought entirely stupid). Either way we had a good few hours, just the three of us. We went bowling (my first time) and even though I lost I had some fun doing it. I also learned a few interesting things - you learn something new every day.

I guess the four-day break balanced itself out, because now I'm tired and sore but I'm still happy about Canada. Such is life, eh?

Friday, October 21, 2005

I'm ready!

(I hope).

This morning I got up extra-early, no more of that plague of sleeping in! Of course it helps when you tell your roommate not to let you go back to sleep, and then promptly get out of bed. Anyway, I dragged myself awake for the sole purpose of writing an essay. *gasp* This isn't just any ordinary essay, though. This is the essay that could change my life! Or at least my next semester. I've got to get into the Professional Sequence 1 to go on with my planned curriculum, and that means writing an essay which looks like this: "If you would pass by me, you must answer these questions three: Why have you decided to become a teacher? What personal and professional goals do you expect to achieve as a result of this decision? And What experiences have you had in working with children?" Of course I'm not allowed to just take the essay sheet up to my advisor and hand it in yelling "I DON'T KNOW!" Instead, I wrote two double-spaced pages about my inspirational teacher from 3rd grade (true), my experiences at camp and in KidsRead (mostly true), and my incredibly optimistic goals to improve the lives of my students (almost complete BS). Now I'm hoping it answered the questions well enough.

I have to meet with my advisor at 9. Here goes nothing!

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

This scares me more than anything I've seen yet. It's bad enough that my cell phone has a GPS system with it, as do most new cars. It's worse yet that people are already numbers - SSN, Student ID - even in elementary schools the kids are being numbered. My little sister's number last year was 11, the boy I tutor's number is 17. The 'upper class' (government, big business and all the rest) is getting less and less personal and more and more overwhelming.

In other news, I went and stood in line for half an hour today, just to have someone ask me about my last menstrual cycle and stick a needle in my arm. The TB Test is a requirement to get into the ELED Professional Sequences here. I get to go back on Thursday to get the results (even though it's perfectly easy to see them for myself, as they're on my arm!). And maybe Friday I can get out of here... even if I have to miss Irish Dancing and two days of work, being irresponsible will feel good. I want to get off campus before winter hits and effectively traps me. I seriously dislike the cold.

Monday, October 17, 2005

KidsRead Session 2

(or Why I'll Never Have Boys)

I'm frustrated because I can't work magic. It's really that simple. Once again, despite Leah's attempts to get more tutors to volunteer, I ended up with the three boys (who I will call B, C, and K). The situation was supposed to be alleviated, Leah put me with three not because I asked, but because they all needed placement and she trusts me. That's a new one. At any rate, it wouldn't be so bad, but...

This session I wanted to get the boys to actively discuss what they picked to read over the break. No deal. C didn't seem to have read anything, B had chosen a book that was too difficult (although that's okay by me, at least he tried) and K he'd read the whole book but didn't know why he liked it. He also said he understood all the words except the spells - he's in fourth grade and had chosen Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Cue the astonished looks. I don't know if I can believe him but he's in an accelerated math class and his spelling words for the week included "isometric" and "acommodation." Why is he here? Probably because he's a minority student and his mother is the type who will do anything for her child to get ahead. *sigh*

The other two who hadn't read/didn't have anything to discuss sat and read Easy Reader books that C had chosen before they settled down toward the end. I never did get any of them to read out loud for more than a sentence, which means I still have no clear idea of their reading level. It's obvious that the three of them are at radically different levels, but exactly what they can and can't read/understand is beyond me. C is the worst to handle, at any rate, because he acts pretty ADD and won't focus on anything but drawing his comics. B is ok, but won't read out loud because he doesn't like it, and K seems to be doing pretty well without this program.

At any rate, I'm trying again. This time, they have to read and make a list of vocab words they want to know. If there were a poster child for indefatigable optimism, it'd be me. I refuse to give up, at least in the long run. Sure, I'll complain, but I'd rather be stuck in a bookless world for eternity than let those kids walk away from these sessions having learned nothing. And maybe one of them will be switched to another tutor...

NaNo is coming up. Sign up or die. Actually, that should be And. Sign up AND die. I haven't yet, but then I've never actually made it to 50,000 words either.

Monday, October 10, 2005

National Coming Out Week

is this week.

And since I've already had one soul-baring session this weekend, I thought it was a good time to say something I've half-hidden for a while. I'm bisexual.

Not that it makes a difference, but I just thought I'd let some of you know.

And on a totally unrelated note, I get lost too easily.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Crazy?

KidsRead, day 1 (for me, anyway). I am paired with 3 boys. Normally we try to do a one-on-one situation so that each child gets the maximum attention possible, but due to an abundance of children and a lack of trained tutors, many of us are working with two or even three kids in the same grade level.

My three boys are a mixed lot: two are chinese, two like Captain Underpants, and two can finish their homework without getting too distracted. And yes, it's a different pair each time. They're very gregarious and would rather laugh over Dav Pilkey's cartoons than read anything serious, but I got them to at least finish their spelling worksheets. They did their math homework, too. I'm not supposed to let them, as this is a reading workshop and not a study hall, but I'll admit I was unprepared. At the end we all trooped into the kids' section and each boy picked out a book he wanted to take home. Assignment: To read one chapter for next week's session... except I later found out there is no session next week, so they'll have two weeks to read. Yay? We'll be using the books they picked out as guides, I hope, so we can work on vocabulary, reading comprehension and reading out loud without switching materials each time they come in. The idea is that they will get some enjoyment out of reading the books they chose, I'll be able to judge their reading level more easily and mark progress, and by the end of the semester they should have completed one or more chapter books on their own. If it works I'll be thrilled.

I think being a teacher is going to be an incredible challenge, but at least I'm getting practice with smaller groups. And boys. Working at a Girl Scout camp leaves one with a rather lopsided education as far as the workings of children. I understand girls okay, and I am one, so that helps... but the opposite gender at any age is still rather mysterious, aside from the fact that most of them think toilet humor is great. Maybe tutoring three boys will help. Maybe it will drive me up a bookshelf.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Well...

I have a tattoo. Don't worry, it's small. I don't have any pictures of it, so if you want to see it you'll have to come visit me in person. *waits for dad to do the Disappointed thing*

Work DHC today from 4:30-8, possibly longer if the manager is in a bad mood. I told her I might be able to work longer but had homework (which is actually true) and I think that since my shoulder's still a little sore, I'd rather not work overtime taking out garbage.

Yesterday was fun. My friend and sister and mom came down here... mom and sis for the Honors College open house, and friend just because. We wandered around for a while, mingling with the prospective students (who weren't frightened by me, which is a good sign). Then Al and I went out to glamourbomb the campus. It wasn't pure glamourbombing but we chalked a few things, left some cards with sayings and candy, and basically had fun. It might make people think, and that was the whole point for us.

I bought a book, too. It's a collection of poems by Pablo Neruda, including two of his love sonnets (one of which happens to be my favorite!), and it contains the translations as well as the original Spanish. I'm excited because this will give me the opportunity to practice reading in Spanish and maybe help my writing too, because it will improve my knowledge of the written language. Next on the list: read "Cien años de soledad" and "Como agua para chocolate" in spanish. I've read the latter in English and it's fantastic, but it didn't give me the practice I wanted. The libraries around here don't carry any spanish literature. :(

Thus far the weekend has gone well. I'm waiting for the horrible tiredness that has become my life to drop upon me again... or anticipating it, since I have work in half an hour.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Love vs. love

Kines once again sparked a thought... ^_^.

There is a common misconception concerning love. Most people these days, as one of the chronicled.org comments says, are in lust. They, with the help and misguidance of the Media, have confused sexual longing for actual Love. But it's hard to tell the difference many times. In a relationship where sex is involved, how do you tell for sure whether you love the person because you feel dependent on them for physical intimacy, or whether you truly Love them?

I can't figure it out myself. I think I'm in Love. I feel incredibly strongly toward my current 'other'. I want to share my life with him in every way possible - including physical love. However, there is more to our relationship than a need for physical attention. We are friends on a deeper level. And that, I think, is part of Love. It's nearly impossible to Love someone who you don't get along with outside the bedroom. Despite our little feuds over where to go for lunch, he and I get along pretty well.

But what is Love, really? It's not just being friends, or even lovers. The word used to denote something more... a feeling that's hard to capture with words. It's something like caring for the other person, and something like feeling protective of the other person, and something like knowing that you can forgive the other person no matter what... and something like a lot of other things. Maybe it's like being a parent. Or does being a parent simply make it easier to Love? I could come up with half a thousand definitions of Love... but it all comes back to one thing. Love is what has happened when, after years and years together, you realize you're going to spend the rest of your life with this person because you'd never adjust to anyone else. ^_^ Or maybe that's just resignation :P

I'll try to tell you what I think Love is.

Love is accepting. For most of history, "Love" as we think of it hasn't counted much in marriages. Arranged marriage is still popular in Islamic nations, as well as the more traditionalist areas of India, China, the United States (yes, it happens here occasionally) and... well, the rest of the world. True, most of the industrially developed nations don't bother with it any more, but for some people an arranged marriage is the only way. I don't know anyone in an arranged marriage but it seems to me that if you were brought up well and your parents knew what they were looking for, you would find yourself quite happy with any match they brought home. Parents tend to be pretty observant of traits and quirks which most people ignore or hide when they are looking for their own mate. And like being assigned to share a dorm with someone you have never met before, the people in arranged marriages probably tend to settle into a comfortable co-existence out of necessity. Love comes later, if at all. Once you know someone, have learned their eating and sleeping habits, have picked up after them and taken care of them and lent them money, you start to love them. Little things remind you of their smile or their attitude. You miss them when they aren't around to talk to. You want to serve them, because you have respect for them and you know they would do the same for you. Love is Equal.

Love is Forgiving. Most of all, Love knows that everyone makes mistakes. There is nothing wrong with being angry for a little while - it is a natural reaction. But Love can forgive, even though a transgression may seem difficult to overcome.

Love is Respectful. People in loving relationships don't seem to have screaming fights very often, and I don't think it's because the sex is that good. An important part of any healthy relationship, romantic or not, requires both people to have respect for each other and themselves. If you can discuss a difference of opinions and still get along then you're much better off.

Love is many things. Look at 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. It's one of my favorite Bible passages... although I still can't quote it. At any rate, whatever Love is or is not, I know one thing: when people think they are in Love, there isn't much anyone can do to convince them otherwise.

I could go on but this post is long enough already. I have homework to do... although if you'd like to debate any of these points or add your own, feel free.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Geek

He comes to visit me... and visits the comp instead!



...[insert obligatory ads for Verizon here]...


^_^ I love my boy!

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Spin

Black
There is a poster on my wall. It is titled: "everybody knows... SHIT HAPPENS". Under the huge title is a two-column list of -isms followed by their respective definitions. I like this poster for a few reasons. It's funny. It makes fun of most major belief systems, with an unbiased attitude. And last, but certainly not least - it's accurate.

A few examples:
Atheism: "I don't believe this s***"
Feminism: "Men are s***"
Amish: "Modern s*** is useless"
Cynicism: "We are all full of s***"
And so on. It covers Baptism, Televangelism, Capitalism, Voodoo, Disneyism ("Bad s*** doesn't happen here"), Surrealism ("Fish happens"), and Freud. Just about everything is up there. My personal favorite, though, happens to be Americanism: "Who gives a shit?"

The problem is that the poster is absolutely dead-on. Americans really do have that kind of attitude, as do many other people in the world. And I do give a shit. I care a heck of a lot about things that most people would shrug off. I keep the poster above my computer not only to remind me that (to quote the Politically Correct) "internally processed, nutritionally-drained biological output" happens, but also to prove the point that most people don't care about its happening. It makes me mad, but it also inspires me to get other people mad... to make them sit up and take notice of what's going on, and to get them to make things better. Some day I want to be able to take that poster down, because Shit won't be happening.

White
At work, there are a lot of older people who have permanent spots as kind of pseudo-managers. They work full time and know everything, and they're very nice to the student workers. One of them, Andy, is getting up there in years, but still comes in to do dishes all day long. I was taking out the garbage a few days ago and he was on break, and as I headed back inside, he pulled a little wooden object out of his pocket and showed it to me. "Know what this is?" he asked.
"Yep. It's a top."
"What color is it?"
"Red and white." (It was painted, half and half)
He spun it. "But if you spin it..."
"Pink!" I exclaimed, because it turns a lovely shade of pink when spun.
He gave it to me. Keep it, he said, and told me something about the man who made them.

The old man who makes these tops was in an accident and broke his neck. He still makes these little wooden tops, hand paints them, and sends them out to people. Apparently he'll give 400 or so to mission groups when he can.

They're nothing special, these little tops. They're small dowels pushed through a round wooden block, painted in two colors. And yet there's something unique about them. It's the knowledge that someone put time and love into these, gave them a purpose and a reason for being.

I think everything takes on a certain quality when it has been loved - even people. When we realize we are loved and that part of our reason for being is because of love, we glow a little too.

Grey
The world is a bipolar place. Some of the most awe-inspiring things in the entire universe exist in this tiny speck of space. Unfortunately, some of the most devastating things are right here as well. Seeing the way the earth looks now, I can't imagine how much more beautiful it was before we started to destroy it. And yet I am grateful we've preserved as much as we have, because I also can't imagine what it will look like if we continue to abuse it. Looking at the children today I'm glad we're raising a new generation to provide hope for the future. Looking closer I'm appalled by their lack of respect for anything around them, and their lack of good education. "The optimist believes this is the best of all possible worlds. The pessimist fears he is right." I don't know who said that first, but it's pretty accurate.

I guess we have to take the bad with the good - if you put all the 'bad' in one hemisphere and all the 'good' in another, it would blur with the earth's rotation anyway - it would be grey. The question is how dark that grey will be. Will it be the dark grey of a thunderhead, or the light grey of the mist over a warm lake on a summer morning? It's up to us to choose our color. I'd like a lighter shade - they look better on me.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

(S)Ick

Last night noticed that the left side of my throat was mildly sore. I came home, ate 15 or so chicken nugget-things I brought home from work with me, and stayed up too late because my roommate was doing homework and I didn't want to be a bitch and demand lights off. I had homework, too.

This morning my stomach is demanding that I abstain from chicken nuggets for life, (at least I hope that's why I don't feel well) and my throat still hurts. But it's not enough to get me out of class. That would take... hm. West Nile, a bad case of the flu, a broken neck -all three of which would have to come with a doctor's note-, or a death in my immediate family, and the obituary to prove it. Oh, people skip class all the time, and what's to keep me from using the excuse that I slept through it? The problem is that I'm too respectful of the rules to skip class (most of the time). So off I go, and hope that today will turn out well.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

If bees were this busy, their wings would fall off.

I mean that, too.
The only time I've had to relax today was a half hour between the early finish of my psych test and the start of my earth and space science class. I sat down in the grass, read my new book, and felt warm. It was too short.
I did get something done, though. I got my child abuse clearance form filled out, got the money order, and mailed it. Now hopefully it comes back before the end of the month. I can't tutor without it.

Today, I have work from 4:30 to 11pm. I will be tired, sore and bitchy when I get back. This job provides the opposite of mental strain, whatever you want to term that, and my brain feels like it atrophies after a few minutes of DHC. So I'm blogging now to save you all from my caveperson self.

According to my Earth and Space Science prof, the earth's rotation is slowing (very slowly, of course) due to a slight drag created by our rather large (comparatively speaking) moon. That means days are actually getting slightly longer. To all those people who have lamented the lack of adequate hours in a day, there's hope.

I've been relatively good about getting the "important" stuff done lately - the stuff that keeps reminding me to finish it. However, getting my car started (or giving up and buying a new goddamn battery, because when/where am I going to find someone to jump-start it?) keeps falling off the end of the list, as does getting that transcript I need for a scholarship, writing a character profile for my part in The Lottery, and seeing my advisor about my courses for next semester. I'm sure I've forgotten more than that...

Eh. Time to go. Just remember: to find peace within yourself, smile and breathe.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Time

My teacher for this morning's art class did an unforgiveable thing: she wasted my time. I got up early, got ready to go, took a ten-minute walk all the way to the other side of campus... and found a note on the door. It said: "Dr. -----'s classes for Tues. 9/20 are cancelled." Well. It's a two hour class, and my next one is on the near side of campus, which would have meant another ten minute walk anyway. The dining hall is across the street, but I already had breakfast. I didn't have much choice but to walk back here and sit down again. You know, she could have emailed us... I just took at twenty minute walk I would rather have spent reading - which I should be doing anyway.

At this point, my time is a precious thing. I spend most of it running between classes, meetings and work. When I can sit down for a few hours, homework rears its eraser-marked head. There's little excuse for me to just drop onto the bed or into the computer chair and space out, and when I do it's usually at the expense of something else I was supposed to finish or attend.

Excuse the language, but ...oh, shit. My bank account was just overdrawn. Goddamn checks... Goddamn art class. I forgot about the fact that I'd written a check for my art supplies, and given it to the teacher - mandatory spending, because it's cheaper when the whole class gives her money and she buys supplies in bulk. Well, she cashed the check, and my account was $1.76 below the check's amount. And then, unaware of the mishap, I went to the coffee house last night with some friends, and bought an overpriced chai. Oops. Hey, mom, wanna forward me some money? I'll pay you back in two weeks when my paycheck comes...

And with that happy start to the day, I'm off to finish the book I'm supposed to have read for today's Research Writing class.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Toe, hop, back ... wha?

Tonight, I continued to learn something that I've always been fascinated by: Irish Dancing. Remember Riverdance? I get to do a simplified version of it. They danced hardshoe, which is more difficult... but I'm learning softshoe steps, and it's really exciting. The teacher is a fellow student who's been dancing for years and the other people in the 'class' are just great, all very enthusiastic even though most of us would normally classify our feet as Left and Left. Anyway, we're into our third week of meetings and we've learned three sets of steps. One is a circle dance that's incredibly simple and incredibly fun. So I'm finally getting to take dance lessons, no thanks to the mother who said I couldn't do ballet :P And this kicks ballet's tutu any day.

In other news, my job is exhausting, but at least I'm going to be paid in two weeks. The worst part is just the monotony of DHC (Dining Hall Cleanup), which I was put on three times this week even though I'm only scheduled for twice. Not that I'll complain openly - I get paid $0.35/hr more to take out the trash.

I've got to adjust to not having much time for Life any more. With 16.5 credit hours of classes (and one's a science/lab which takes up 4 hours a week, but is only worth 2.5), 18 hours of work, ushering, group meetings, KidsRead and homework, I'm looking forward to Sunday as my only partial day off.

And I'm also looking forward to bedtime. Good night, world.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Death By Foodservice

(Or, Evidence the Universe has PMS)

Today has been one of Those Days that can only be described as unpleasant, for no reason I can fathom. It started off too early, because I had plans to go to the last weekend of the Ren Fest in Pittsburgh, but decided last-minute not to, and was already up and awake, so I told my friends I wasn't going. And then they reminded me of a pouch I said I'd let them borrow to hold their money. I didn't have it - during the room change fiasco I moved it into my 'new' room and left it there when I came back here. There it was behind a locked door, and there I was feeling bad.

So I made up my mind to have a good, productive day. I folded my laundry, I made my bed, I read a little bit more of The Light Fantastic. I set out to meet my sword-fighting group for some fun, wearing flip-flops. The days have been hot and dry, there is construction going on, and dust is everywhere. My feet were covered in nastiness pretty quickly. Bad idea. I also hurt my foot on an invisible stick. Ow?

Feeling gross after a bit of fighting in which I was first to die 9/10 of the time (and only 4 people showed up), I decided I'd go get my car and do some shopping. The car is parked in the huge lot at the far end of campus - a fifteen minute walk at least. Apparently, the lights were left on when I parked it two weeks ago. I had to walk back carless and sweaty, decided I didn't want to walk any farther than the nearest bus stop, and collapsed. And waited. And burned my legs on a hot bench.

The bus was so crowded it was standing room only. Apparently Saturday afternoon is a popular time to go shopping. And after I'd gotten through the grocery store, Goodwill (didn't find what I hoped to), and the mall (forgot a coupon for Borders but got the discount anyway), my bags were too heavy and the bottom ripped out of one. My jar of blackberry jam was almost left on the floor of the bus; instead it ended up dropping with a horrible glassy splat onto the concrete where it jiggled for a second. Ai.

And to top off the evening, I decided to half-jokingly ask a friend who works at the nearest food place if they were still hiring. They were, and he pointed me to the manager, who basically pounced upon the fresh meat and hired me on the spot. I'm now resigned to doing the one job I swore I'd never do - foodservice, for minimum wage - on evenings and weekends.

I feel like a disappointment to myself; and the universe is leaning back with a lazy grin and asking why I bother with optimism. I'm tempted to throw something at it.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Progress

"God grant me the Strength to change the things I can, the Patience to endure the things I can not, and the Wisdom to know the difference."

I'm a patient person when I have to be. There is a quiet place inside that I can go to when waiting is required. Yet when I'm working toward my own goals or expecting something to happen, I'm like a child. I get excited and start thinking and moving faster, and want the rest of the world to keep up with me. I can't tell myself to calm down and work slowly, because I can see what's going to happen next and wish it would happen now. Some days I feel like I'm in a glass train, a prison with no door, and I can see the destination long before we near it but no matter how I strain to make the prison move faster, it never does. Sometimes it even feels like it's slipping backwards, and there is no way to break free.

I've been questioning a lot lately: my classes and education, my goals, my actions and thoughts and feelings, even my relationships - and I can't give myself answers, and I can't put the question into words to ask someone else. Everything seems unsteady except Peter - my rock. (I like your given name, though I don't use it in public) He's an island of certainty in my little sea of doubt. Maybe it's the time of year. Maybe it's something else. There is an unrest growing in me that has nothing to do with what I'm doing at any particular moment. Something that tells me it's time to quit this messing around with classes that don't matter and potential employers too busy to call; I should be working and independent and Grown Up. I want out. I want to be done. I want to be able to look back and say "That was worth my time." instead of sitting here thinking "This is a waste of time." Every day I manage to be "busy," but I'm not doing anything. Writing papers, reading, gaining more insight into... the politics of running a state institution? I'm not happy when I'm not working on something I love, or something that will advance me toward a goal.

PSYC 101 is a regression, not an advancement. I may only attend on test days, because it utterly failed to get my attention - I read Dune in class and still managed to keep up with the notes/lecture (anyone who knows how I am with books will see how bad the class is). The truth is, most of my classes don't seem to be useful this semester. With the exceptions of Spanish and Art, there is nothing challenging and without a challenge, how am I supposed to grow? I'm tired of busy work and blanket requirements and politics and tact. I want to run barefoot and screaming through the Oak Grove, and laugh at the confusion... but it wouldn't change anything.

People are stupid. When I say I could never live in a city because of the lack of nature, I'm half-lying. I could never live with that many stupid people, no matter how interesting they were. I hate them all in their smug shallow self-absorbed lives. I hate their ignorance and their apathy and their pollution of our world, our minds and our hearts. I hate that we were born into a world where we are numbered and tracked by our government and hated by our sister countries and where freedom of speech sometimes means the freedom to choose between "Yes, Sir." or "No, Sir." I despise the way our educational system brings in people from all over the world and has yet to produce an entirely geographically literate class from any of our schools. I hate that world history in America means "Where America Fits Into History, OR Famous Americans and Why We Are Better." I hate the ethnocentrism we still hang on to. I hate the idea that somehow being American means being Better. What happened to Liberty and Justice For All? It's not - it never was - supposed to refer to the majority. I despise our idiocy and our hypocrisy as a nation of (mostly) God-Fearing White Christians whose only goal is to help Ourselves, whether or not our brothers and sisters drown. I could go on for miles about what I dislike about this country, and the only solution I can see clearly is to tear it all down and rebuild, starting with family values and education. There are few other changes to the system that would even semi-permanently fix any of the problems we have now.

Damn it.

Somewhere in there I forgot to mention that I'm supposed to be moving in with a freshman to avoid having a non-honors student moved in with me as the transitional housing problems are alleviated. I'm feeling ambiguous about this. I know she's a nice girl and I'm sure we'll get along fine, but I like my privacy, too. Sharing a room is something I haven't done in a very long time.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Baby

A girl I know has given birth to a baby boy. She named him Daniel. She is 19, unmarried, without a good job last I heard, and in college. I'm happy for her, because a birth is always a wonderful occasion; at the same time I am disappointed. I never thought that she would become a statistic: another unwed teenage mother.

You know, I'd love to be a mother. It's an important goal of mine - but not now. I know better than to risk my entire future and that of my child. I'm in college. I work (if I get the job) part time. I have classes to take and student teaching to do. I have grad school ahead of me. There is no sensible way for me to have a child right now without giving up my education and struggling to make a living. My whole life is ahead of me.

It always makes me wonder what goes through these girls' heads: why they're making decisions that will put another obstacle on the road to success. For that matter, what do they want out of life? Everyone should have a goal... and they don't seem to have very high ones. I guess it's just up to each person on his or her own to decide what's best and what will make them happy. I just wish that they wouldn't put themselves on the track to welfare so early in life.

That was the CliffNotes(tm) version of a rant I should probably elaborate on, but don't want to. My brain is overrun by various times and dates I'm supposed to remember. I already have a few assignments, and it's only the first day of classes.

I've had lots to do and think about lately and it looks as though my busy semester is going to get busier yet. KidsRead Tutoring is Monday nights, I'm ushering for six shows in the next two semesters, I may write for the campus newspaper again, TOST (the theatre group) is on my list, weekends are time to swordfight with my LARP group... the list goes on. I'm hoping to add a job to it, too. It looks overwhelming when I stop to think about it, and then I stop thinking and keep piling things on. The way I see it, I have three more years to do as much as humanly possible to make my resume look good and I plan to dive in headfirst.

Here's hoping the semester (indeed, the year) goes spectacularly. :)

Friday, August 26, 2005

Rain, Rain...

Yesterday was what some might call a Long Day (tm). It wasn't any longer than any other day I've had recently, but it was rather frustrating at times. Let's just say that city driving isn't my favorite pasttime. At any rate, it's over now and I'm sitting in one of my favorite places - The Apartment in Pittsburgh. I'm looking forward to a quiet weekend here and then it's off to school early Sunday morning. So. That's that.

Today, it's raining. At least, this afternoon it's raining. It doesn't bother me except I've discovered that by some horrible twist of fate, the sunroof (otherwise known as the hole in the top of my car) leaks on occasion. It leaks mostly into the passenger seat and the floor, but my computer monitor is currently in that seat - with the seatbelt on - and I'd rather it stayed dry. Luckily the rain is only a light misting, which is the sort I love second best (just behind the torrents-of-doom sort of rain that accompanies thunderstorms of great magnitude). I considered taking a walk in it, but there's a rather limited choice of places to walk in the area, and I'd rather have company.

The boy is at work for another six hours or so, which means I get to find new ways to amuse myself while he's out. There's the sewing I started, but pinning and cutting is rather tough to do without a clean, hard work area like a table, which the apartment distinctly lacks. Ah well.

And I've finished my book. Good Omens is absolutely the best book I've read in ages. It's on my list of Best Books. I think I'd put it above Watership Down for sheer hilarity but below Douglass Adams for Quotability. Or maybe above HHGTG because it's simply brilliant. At any rate it's god. I just typed "god" where I meant to type good. :D And Terry Pratchett goes on my Most-Worshipped Authors list, because he has proven that he is the God of Funny. Dust and fundamentalists, indeed. Go buy the book now. It's worth your money.

/update




So yes. It definitely feels like the end of summer now. There are apples ripening in the orchard at home, and the world has that intensely ready feeling to it as though it was an apple and it's just turned perfectly ripe. You know the kind of feeling... it hangs in the air. Things are being harvested, vacations are over, the storm clouds are just appearing on the horizon. Everything is ready for autumn. My favorite time of year is early autumn, when it's not too rainy or cold, but the sunlight comes in through the yellowing leaves with a certain slant that makes everything golden, and the leaves are crisp where they've fallen, and the hills light up with color in a way that takes one's breath away, especially in places where all you can see for miles around are hills. The apples are sweetest right from the trees, wild ones especially. It's a time when everything is getting ready for a respite from growth and activity, except the children, who we're sending off to school. School is nice, too. It's a new start at the end of the year, a return to the old patterns again. I like that.

/poetic daydreaming

Does anyone else notice that after reading a particularly good book, they imitate the style of the author(s) in their writing?

And yes, this is nearly the same post I put into my livejournal. Hehe...

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

All my bags are packed and I'm ready to go...

Yep, I'm all ready to head south again. The plan is to go to the boy's first, and stay there till the dorms open, then have him follow me up to school so I have someone to help me unload the Golf. I actually managed to fit everything (excluding the computer, obviously) into its tiny hatch, thanks to the back seat folding forward. The computer and the last few things I'm using today are going to fit, too. I'm excited about that; I like being (mostly) independent.

My cat is ill. Actually, it's my sister's cat, and I'm sure if you asked the cat, she'd say we all belonged to her, but that's beside the point. She had a seizure this morning and another this afternoon, something I've never heard of in a cat, and while I wasn't there to see the first one, apparently it scared my mother into thinking Princess was dying. The vet says she's fine, but a little underweight and has a bad ear infection (mom had thought it was just ear mites). Little sister is worried, middle sister cares but isn't praying too hard about it. I'm more or less unconcerned, as an ear infection isn't the worst that could happen by far, and there's nothing any of us can do for the seizures except make sure she's not going to hit her head on things. It won't do any good to worry about a situation that we can't change, even if it does seem callous not to.

I'm shopping for a mini fridge still. The school charges $30 a semester for a fridge and microwave set that are both tiny and if you add up the cost, it's cheaper to buy both than to rent them. The microwave was an easy find, but the fridges seem to be rare, because I couldn't find any acceptible ones in WalMart or elsewhere here. I've resorted to EBay, and dug one up that can be picked up from someone in PA, which is convenient, and it's also cheap. Three cheers for the internet. Now I hope I win the auction.

Signing off blogger till after I get to the apartment. Love to you all who read this, and I'll see some of you soon :)

By the way, raise your hand if my post title caused you to break into song. Thinking the lyrics counts.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

When In Rome...

...is the first song on Nickel Creek's new album, Why Should the Fire Die?. I just picked up the CD from MediaPlay - on sale for $13, so I figured I'd be nice (to myself, that is) and buy it.

Sitting here at the boy's apartment with the kitten running around and acting very kitten-ish (which, in this case, means ADHD to the extreme). I'm finally home from camp and have less than two weeks now till I go back to school... so I figured I'd make the most of it and stay away from home for as long as possible :P Actually, coming down here for a few days stemmed from a few things. One was the idea that I'd be away from mom's smoking that much longer, because being away from a smoker's house eleven months out of the last 13 or so, I've managed to develop an even greater sensitivity to the stench and the incredible amounts of smoke in the atmosphere. It makes me naseous when I get into the car now, because it smells so strongly. And so the farther from my mother's horrible habit I am, the happier (and healthier) I'll feel. Sorry, mom; I know you don't want to hear it but deal. I dealt with your smoke for 18 years. The other big reason was that summer camp for me and year-round school for him meant I couldn't see the boy as often as either of us would have liked and so we've got a lot to catch up on. It'll be relaxing to just not deal with home for a little while longer, and have someone to cuddle. Yay, cuddles.

I miss my school life: friends, dorm rooms, classes, hot chai in the morning (It's best bought hot from the coffee stands on campus) and the film fests at the local theater. Especially the friends. I can't wait till I get back and can go hang out in the new apartment most of them have moved into, and get my room back (perhaps with a new, unannounced roommate, we'll see how that goes) and get the Great Hall and the Oak Grove and the Shakespeare Garden to meander in or curl up with a good book in a corner of.

And speaking of books, I've just bought one. So as soon as I read it, expect some babbling about it. It's co-authored by Terry Pratchett. Yay :)

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Just to show...

A day in the life of Otter. It's the last week!

Sunday, July 31, 2005

Oh, the joy.

Two more weeks of campers, a week of cleanup, and then I'm free... to pack. I'm headed back to school on Sunday, the 28th. The horrible thing about that is that classes start on the 29th. Supposedly I'll be assigned a roommate, but the last thing I heard from housing was that they hadn't given me one yet, and the person would be randomly assigned sometime between the time they sent me that little notice and the day I move in. I'm half expecting someone I'll be able to scare out (like I did with my last roommate) before December. The optimistic part of me is expecting an empty room again.

It's not that I don't like sharing my space, but sharing your living quarters with someone takes a lot of energy and some degree of friendship. Jessica* never even talked to me, except to ask if it was okay if she watched tv, or to tell me when she was leaving. The friendliest thing I ever got out of her was "Have a good time at class." I'm still not sure why she left, though I'm assuming it was a combination of having a room available with her friend, thinking I didn't like her much, and knowing I usually had my boyfriend over on weekends when she was at home. It amuses me to think that I scared a roommate away just by having a boy in the room.

Anyway, I've got to get ready for camp again. Time to put on the DisneyWorld smile again and play the happy counselor for another week. And maybe this week I'll actually be able to see the boi. I miss him.

*Names changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

Quickie

I've got about fifteen minutes before I'd like to be on the road and headed back to camp. This week I'm with Outpost, which combines two of my (usually) favorite activities, camping out all week and riding horses. They're older girls and should be able to handle whatever we throw at them, and I'm looking forward to a week with less fighting and frights than last week had.

For those who haven't heard, last week was a nightmare. We had girls who wouldn't stop fighting except to start whining and wouldn't listen to instructions until we repeated them three times, we were late for lots of activities, they were up too late at night (meaning I was up too late with them) and halfway through the week one half of the girls were on a trail ride and ended up in a nest of ground bees. Scariest moment this year, so far: Hearing screams, and a few seconds later seeing three horses come galloping down the trail they just went up, riderless with reins loose and looking like they're going to run right past the area you need them to stay in. Luckily they did stop as soon as they got to their arena, and stood outside the fence while I caught them. The girls were okay too.

I'm sure I could use more sleep but at least I'm ready to go. Hopefully next week I'll have time to catch up on news from the outside world. This weekend...

The 16th marked a full year with the boi. ^_^ I spent the day with him and we went out to the movies last night. It was a good day, and made up for the crappy week. <3 to him for driving all the way up from Pittsburgh to spend some time with me, and >O to my mother, who told me I can't drive down to see him because of my inexperience with city driving. Bah. At least I've got a car now.

And YES, I heard about London. And I'm concerned about the future of the world in general, but mostly about America, Asia and Europe.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Flag Burning: A Quick... Rant?

Excuse me while I pull out my Pocket Constitution (tm) and my attitude and pound some of these arguments into dust. Actually, the people posting in the thread have done a good job of it already, but I'd like to say this in my own way.

First off, for those too lazy to click the above link, the debate is on flag burning. A randomly amusing side note: my Government class held a similar debate and I and my friend were the only two who argued for being allowed to burn flags.

Okay. First quote: "woa woa woa.... the 'right to protest' isnt a right... its a spinoff if freedom of speech, assembly, and press... so burning a flag is not a political or social 'right', it is an inflammatory expression that can do no good for a cause.. only lead to violence".
Number one, this poster isn't too well educated, or is just plain too lazy to capitalize and spell correctly. Either situation would normally cause me to ignore the argument, but this one bothered me so I went to look it up. It's true, there is no specific wording in the Constitution that allows flag burning, but neither is there something denying it. The rights of free speech, peaceful assembly, and petitioning the Government for redress of grievances are mentioned and as far as I know, protesting falls among those categories. So as long as I'm not protesting with a gun in one hand and a dartboard of Bush in the other, my right to protest is still protected indirectly. It's a political right because the foundational laws of my country allow it, and it's a social right because everyone has the same rights I do and we're all entitled to protection of those rights. Also, as far as I knew, you're the one who controls what you see and how you see it, and it's up to you to decide how to react. If you really want to pick a fight with someone who's burning a flag, feel free... I'm sure it'll be Civil War Version 2 in no time. However, you have the right and the ability (I hope) to peacefully and sensibly protest the burning of a flag in your neighborhood, in a public park where your children play, or during any sensitive times like national holidays and September 11. It's a lot better to walk up to someone and ask them why they're burning a flag and whether they can move the protest elsewhere than to run screaming and swearing down the street and cause more trouble than the protester(s) would have in the first place.

Number two: "[Quote: Nowt wrong with flag burning. If a democratic country that endorses free speech arrests a person for burning a flag, are they democratic? No.]
That is complete bullshit. A democratic country can easily pass a law banning flag burning. People vote to pass the law, therefore it is democratic.
Besides, calling "setting something on fire" the same as "speech" is inane."

You are completely full of bs, sir. Where do you actually draw the line between "speech" and an unprotected action? How does writing sound to you? What about sign language? Not everyone uses their voice or their keyboard to communicate, and if you'd like I'll pull out half a dozen articles on body language for you just to prove that point. I'm sure everyone has heard the cliche saying "Actions speak louder than words." Well, it's true. The way you walk down the street and what you wear tell people more about you than a simple description in words. If I choose to set something on fire as a way of communicating, it can be called speech. If my motive in setting a fire is simply to cook food or for heat, there's no communication involved and you're right, it's outside the label. Still, be careful of generalizing. There are situations in which someone will speak without saying a word, and if you're ignoring actions as a form of communication you're going to be in trouble.

Three: "if it was my personal belief that i want everyone with black hair murdered by next sunday, would you protect and respect my personal beliefs...
you see, personal beliefs dont make an action right or wrong, moral or immoral, its the national and state laws and doctrines that decide whats right or not."

...oooh... You're in over your head. Can you present me with a logical, well thought out and well supported argument that states that personal beliefs have no effect on legality? Can you tell me that what I think about murder, rape and incest does not affect my set of morals and values, or what I teach my students and my children? Can you explain how this absolute right and wrong works, and how the "national and state laws and doctrines" were put into place if they were never written down by people whose morality informed their judgements? There are few moral absolutes, and among them are: "Murder is wrong" and "Rape is wrong". I have never in my discussions of philosophy heard anyone say that "Flag burning as a form of protest is wrong" is a moral absolute. If it was your belief that everyone with black hair should be murdered, most people with a well developed sense of morality would turn you in to the nearest mental hospital or police station. I advise not using obviously morally wrong beliefs when arguing against something that has less to do with morality than with political and social ideals and the use of symbolism.

The American flag is a symbol of our nation. It does not stand for each individual seperately, but as a whole. It stands for our government and our foreign and domestic policy and our way of life; it does not stand alone as a freedom or a right or even as a protector of those freedoms or rights. Yes, we should respect the symbol of our nation and our ideals, but if we disagree with the ideas or policies that the flag is being used to represent, I see nothing wrong with protesting by burning the representation - the flag. Our flag has always represented the founding principles of this country and I realize that it is upsetting to many people to see a material representation of their intangible freedoms being destroyed by a seemingly hostile protester. What we need to remember is that the flag is not only there to stand for our constitutional rights, and a protester is usually taking action against some other representation such as the "War on Terror"; these representations are changeable and protesting them is not taking shots at the constitution. It's simply another way of saying "Hey, guys, someone in the Capitol is doing something I don't like, and I'm telling you/them about it loud and clear."

Besides, if the flag and its symbolism are really that dear to us, why do we allow it to be plastered all over bandannas, clothing, cheap toys and other things, most of which aren't even made in the USA?

I'd have said more, and used better arguements, but it's late and I'm tired. Thanks for reading this far, please feel free to continue the discussion via comments or email.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Lifeguarding, Lateness, and Life in General

So. I'm back from my first full week of camp. With children. The girls were only there for a three day session, but it was still tiring, because I had to be at lifeguard training half an hour away from camp from 1 to 5 every day. It didn't leave much time for getting to know the campers.

On the postitive side, lifeguarding means spending lots of practice time in the water, and I got pretty tan. The negative side was that the lake we were in was full of seaweed, dead fish and zebra mussels. The mussels were the worst part, since their shells are sharp enough to cut your feet open and therefore we had to wear water shoes at all times. I never wore them before this week, because they suck, and it was tough to swim with them on. Meh. But... I'm a certified waterfront lifeguard now. I passed all the tests today, and so did Mush and Flipper (my co-workers).

I got a cell phone too. Last time I came home, Rick snuck up here and I got to go out with him for the day I was home :). He wanted to replace his cell and so he got me one too. We're on a family plan together, which is cool, and he paid for the phones, but I promise I'll pay my own phone bills. ^^ After all, I'm making more in these six weeks of camp than he is doing six weeks full-time work.

My new(er) car is still uninsured, but I'm going to work that out tomorrow, and if the DMV is open I'll see about registering it too. Meh. Meh, Meh.

Anyway, I'm tired and I wanted to take a hot shower but sister got there first and used all the hot water and I'm too lazy to go back in now that the water's likely to be warm again. I still have laundry to do too. And I miss Rick a lot, as usual. Mom was late picking us up tonight, which made everything seem much worse, because two hours is a long time to wait for a ride when you're not sure when the ride's coming and in the meantime you're being eaten alive by insects and watching half your co-workers getting excited and packing and leaving for Camp Arrowhead. Yeah, that was fun. NOT.

Monday, July 04, 2005

Of camp, and other things

I lost my wish bracelet. Finally. It fell off sometime during the week and I didn't realize it until after Thursday, which means that it could have been dropped in half a million places. I don't mind, though. Two of the three wishes are already coming true, and the third seems to be promising as well.
I have a car. And it's not the Toyota Camry I was expecting I'd get. Dad's selling that one, and has offered (and actually bought for me today) a little '91 VW Golf. It's white, which I don't like, but it's got the coolest bumper stickers ever (it belonged to some aging hippies) and once it's polished up a bit it'll be a great little car. And it's still a standard, which means lots of fun learning to drive it in Jamestown and the surrounding area. I hope the drivers around here will forgive me for stalling in the middle of an intersection. :p
I get lost easily. When I picked up the Golf today with Dad, it was out in the middle of nowhere somewhere near Cherry Creek, and I had to get back home on my own with the new car, so I definitely took the long way around because I couldn't remember which way to go. It was slightly frustrating getting lost but I found my way back okay and didn't have to turn around or ask for help. I guess I'm proud of myself for not getting so lost I didn't know which way was up, but next time I'm going to Mapquest my destination before I leave the house. It's sad that I can't find my way around my own county yet.
I'm taking a lifeguarding course this week, so I will be away from camp for five hours a day. The great part is that not only do I get the chance to be a lifeguard at camp after I take the course, the Girl Scouts are paying for it. How long does a lifeguarding certification last? I'm sure it'll be useful outside of camp even if it's only a year-long certification anyway.
Camp is fun. We got a bunch of cup stacking stuff... you know, the sport that Canada does a lot? Yeah. Well, we're now practicing so we can teach our little girls how to stack cups. Wow. The little children arrive on Wednesday. I get to be with an archery group.
There are two international counselors from Denmark and Russia. Russia is good at ping pong and is teaching all of us. She's also teaching my sister a bit of Russian, which is amusing, especially because some of the words sound particularly dirty even though they mean things like "how" and "fine."
I miss everyone like crazy, especially Rick.
'cept he's here now, so it's okay. 'Night!

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Individuality

The previous post started out by counting my blessings. This is a follow-up of sorts.

The reason I'm really lucky isn't that I have never been badly hurt or that I got to go to a good school. It's that I was brought up with the ability to recognize how lucky I am. My parents are behind that; they taught me very early that I should appreciate what I had, and as I grew up I saw more and more people in situations that made my teenage dramas look mundane and irrelevant (which is what they usually were). I still see things like that, and every time I get too tied up in the little things and forget the bigger picture, something comes along and hits me full-on to remind me that life is not about Me, it's about Us.

A lot of people don't ever realize that there is more to life than Me and My Needs, Fears and Opinions. If You don't share My opinions, You are [insert derogatory word here]. If I want that, I get it. Unfortunately the majority of the world seems to be eager to spread that idea. The "Individualist" culture that has sprung up a few times before has come back en force with a new look. Everywhere I turn today, people are cutting themselves off from their community, their friends and even their family because the new buzz-word is "me-time" and nobody is eager to share.

We live in a world where "communication" is easier than ever before, but we can't even talk to our families any more. I can't remember the last time I sat down and had an honest, open talk with my mother about what was happening in my life, despite her best attempts to dig information out of me when we're driving or on occasion actually eating in the same room. It's tough to say something important to someone who you don't think knows you very well, whether that person is a parent, a child, a friend or a co-worker.

The internet appeals by telling us all about the online communities we can join and the networking we can do with people around the world, but I rarely see it used to bring users together. Instead, people continue to break off from the main groups and start new ones, so that the ever-growing network of solitary computer users sitting in ill-lighted rooms or in crowded workplace cubicles has become like an anthill without a queen. Everyone is doing his own thing -blogging, internet marketing, web design, programming- and occasionally it will attract the attention of a few others, but nobody listens to The Source of All Wisdom anymore and many people are so suspicious of the online world that they refuse to deal with communities at all. I'm not saying the internet has demolished our sense of community, because I have seen a few places where people form bonds just as strongly online as groups do IRL (in real life). However, there are more people who remain separate than there are in the best of these online groups.

For a long time, private offices and cubicles at work have put the focus on the individual. I've heard that some companies are finally breaking away from this and trying to encourage teamwork and cooperation; it's not working very well, from what I've seen. It's tough to get people to work together after cutting them off from one another for so long, and a teamwork workshop isn't as effective if people have already set up perceptions about leaders and followers.

In homes as well, it's all about the individual. Our culture sells the idea that children should have their own bedrooms because they need to be alone sometimes. It also sells personal CD players, game systems, computers, phones, mini-fridges - everything but the kitchen sink - so that when little Bobby is alone, he can entertain himself in private with whatever he likes. The living room has all but disappeared, unless Dad brings home a rented movie that everyone agrees on seeing. The dining room is gone, replaced by a table or island in the kitchen where nobody shares a meal, they can grab plates and head off to the office or bedroom or TV room. Board games are still around, but I can't name many people who sit down with family and play them any more. Today's games are friend-oriented and require as little communication as possible, distracting us with lights and noises so that we never quite get around to conversation any more. I'm bothered by that more than anything else. There was a time when everyone could sit down and talk about anything and everything, even if it was just a short chat over dinner. Now, we have to read our friends' weblogs to hear about how their day was and if we need to talk with them it's through email or instant messenger. We have become cut off from each other, so much that when we do get into a group with others we are awkward, sometimes unsure of social conventions and unable to give a friendly hug if we need to.

Individualism is all around us. We try to personalize our belongings by adding stickers, pins, posters, drawings, and names to the brand-name stuff that everyone has. We want to be heard because being individual means getting My opinions out no matter what anyone else has to say, and even if there are four hundred websites that say the same thing mine does, I will make a new one because then I will be able to lay claim to the opinion instead of following someone else. If You have something I like, I will get it for Myself, but then I will also make it different from Yours so that it is totally Mine. Nobody likes the concept of sharing any more, and it seems sometimes that we are living in a world of four year olds whose favorite words are "no!" and "mine!"

It's funny that with all of the individualist ideas running around, no one really stops and thinks about the trends they are following. I suppose that in any herd of sheep, none really wonder why they're grazing with the herd, because they are following a base instinct that there is safety in numbers and none want to be excluded or left on the edge. The edge is dangerous. Those on the edge are the first to be exposed to the big wide world outside the circle of wool. They get to pick up their heads if they like, and look out not over a sea of uniformity but a panorama of mountains and valleys, sun and shadow. They can, if they are brave or curious, wander out of the herd, because they are not trapped in the middle and have some choice about which way to walk. These are the sheep who might not run when the sheepdog comes to round them up. In people terms, they are the ones who stand back from a mob and instead of running to the nearest mall when a new toy is released, still find joy in the old toys. They are the people who might be misunderstood, but would rather be misunderstood than misled by what everyone else thinks is true. I might count myself among them, because I have more than once gotten glimpses of the bigger picture, which is nearly impossible to see or hear about from the middle of a slow-moving mass of white wool and baa-ing.

Yesterday I was reading Kines' blog and one of his entries left me thinking about what individual really means. He was saying that buying generic products is the way to go because then you are not labelling yourself with brand names and are showing some individuality. While it's true that escaping a brand name is something few people think to do, there is still no individuality in purchasing a mass-produced product from a company that spreads its roots over half the world, no matter how wonderful or unknown that company may be. There is merit in purchasing recycled products, and supporting the use of minimal packaging, but it is not individual. It is simply a movement which few have joined. There is nothing wrong with being part of a movement, and sharing ideals with others, as long as you are doing it for your own reasons and not theirs.

The only way to be truly individual and to truly be yourself is, in my mind, to do everything you can for yourself and not depend on others to provide ideas, decoration or direction for you. Making things by hand is one way to break away from the crowd - nobody else in the world can create the same thing in the same way as someone else can, even if they are making similar products. Each creation is unique, as is each creator. Thinking for yourself is another step in the right direction, and while I see some flashes of it in many of the people I have become friends with, I don't know a single person who has not at some point picked up another's idea and carried it blindly along because it fit what they thought. Even I do it, and I know it, and will not call myself an individual thinker by any means, because I steal ideas left and right. It takes a lot to be able to step back and think about things on your own, instead of picking them out of what others have written or said, but coming to a conclusion on your own and then realizing that others share the conclusion is a better, and in the end more satisfying, path than following the others to their conclusion and then taking it up as your own. I am not saying that people should be aloof and feel that they are above everyone else, either. The best individuals are those who are humble enough to realize that they are not perfect no matter how many flaws they can pick out in everyone else - it is easy to recognize those flaws in others when you have them yourself. It is also a good idea to always remember the value of friends, because many people in trying to be individualist manage to push their closest friends away. A friend should be there to support you, and you should let them.

In trying to be as individual as possible people sometimes forget the value of sharing. It is possible to be an individual in the truest sense of the word and still share much with the people around you. Whether it is a taste in music or food, an ideal, love, memories, or some object that holds a special place in people's hearts, we can not escape the fact that there are similarities between us and others. There are some people who we can share more than just surface similarities with, because we can teach and learn from them, too. And that is the best kind of community there is - one where the members teach each other and learn from each other, always remembering that they are all part of a group, but keeping their identity instead of trying to blend in.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Counting Blessings

How many of you would say you have a great life? Sit back and think about it for a while, before you read about how wonderful mine is.

Somehow in my nineteen years and 4 months of life I have never broken a bone, gotten into an accident or lost someone very close to me. I do not have any life-threatening or debilitating illnesses, have never come down with mono, and by some twist of fate have managed to procrastinate right up to the deadlines for homework and still pull off a 3.6-3.8 average all the way through school. That's lucky, because I know others who can try hard and still not recieve the grades I do. Teachers keep telling me I have potential, and I think "Potential? That's what you tell someone who is motivated to get to the top. I'm not a potential achiever, I'm an accident of the universe."

(The universe does have a pretty interesting sense of humor. Today we had a thunderstorm pass us by on both sides, but all we got here was ten minutes of cloud cover followed by sunshine and some big raindrops. It was amusing more than anything else, because the sky overhead looked perfectly blue but there was the rain anyway, splattering into the dusty driveway as though it was going to continue all night. "Only in Western New York," I said to my family as we stood on the deck and watched the rain splash into the pool.)

Then there are days when I get stressed out because there seems to be no way I can pull off a good grade in a class, or run in a race, or do whatever it is I am supposed to do. Every time I start thinking I've messed something up, something happens to reassure me that life is going to help me out. There's really no explanation for the million times I have sat in my room trying to figure out what I am going to tell a teacher only to find that the assignment isn't graded or wasn't due that day or, on rare occasions, that school was canceled and I have an extra day to finish my work. There's no reason it should keep happening over and over again that whenever the shit gets near the fan, the wind changes and nothing hits at all. Close calls started to amuse me a while ago because it seems right now that I am invincible at least as far as the homework is concerned and it seems that if anyone wanted to hit me while I was driving they'd have managed to by now. Of course, luck changes and guardian angels do let bad things happen but I think mine is overzealous about protecting me.

Even when I'm doing potentially dangerous activities like climbing 40+ foot rocks without a rope or a spotter, driving slightly faster than I know is safe, or running barefoot around areas where there could be broken glass, I don't hurt myself. The worst I've done is scraped up my knees and elbows a few times, and stepped on some sharp rocks that left me wincing but still able to walk. It's absurd how little damage I do to myself and others sometimes, at least physically. I must have one hard-working angel, and I am very, very grateful to it. Not only am I blessed with safety, but I have been given so much else along with my good health. I have a loving family, and a loving boyfriend, and so much more.

I have lived a good life in so many ways - as of today I have never had to declare bankruptcy, experienced starvation, been without the support of friends and family, or been denied the right to an education. I have had chances to visit places outside of my hometown (although I have never been outside North America), had a computer for most of my life, had TV for almost as long as the computer, have never been to a place without running water and plumbing, and have always been provided with a roof over my head and a warm place to sleep. There are tens of thousands of people in the world who would say I live a rich life, because I have the basics provided for me and often take them for granted. There are millions of others who would compare their lives to mine and wonder how I have lived in such "poverty." The people who have never been without satellite TV, two or more cars in the driveway and six-figure incomes would shake their heads at the 'simple' life I could describe to them.

I have known so many people who had more than I did in a material way but still could not count all their blessings, and in that way they were poorer than I have ever been. There is more to living than gathering every material thing that comes your way into one huge pile. The 46" HDTV in the living room will not help you build a stairway (or tower) to heaven. It will only get you so far before everything collapses underneath you. That's why I think it's good to draw up a list of blessings every so often that has nothing to do with the stuff sitting in your house or the money in the bank. It helps us remember what's really important in life and keeps us from taking our most important blessings - health, family, friends, love, wisdom, our talents and abilities - for granted.