A Reply...

...to a comment on Badaunt's blog:

"Anybody who’s ever seen smooshed skunks, coons, possums, dogs, cats and rabbits on the roads and expressways will realize that animals (whom I prefer to humans any day, btw) do not have enough understanding to avoid the perils of human contraptions."

And anybody who's ever seen broken bones, crushed limbs, stitches, scars, life support systems beeping away in busy hospitals and emergency rooms on a bad night will realize that humans (whom I place lower on the list than animals myself) do not have enough understanding to avoid the perils of their own contraptions and contrivances.

Just felt I had to get that out. You don't have to agree with my contemptuous view of homo sapiens, and in fact I think it's better if you don't. If everyone thought like I did the world would be a very scary place.

May Angels Lead You In...

Grandma died this morning at about 6 am. She was my last surviving grandparent - I lost the others a long time ago (two before I was old enough to remember them at all).

I miss her a little, but I feel that we shouldn't be mourning a life of almost eighty years now ended. It was her time, and that's all. I know my parents will be mourning, but I celebrate that up until the last few weeks she wasn't in the hospital, she was laughing at Thanksgiving and sounded like she was still smiling the last time I talked to her on the phone a few weeks ago. I'm glad the last time I saw my grandmother she wasn't in the hospital and deathly ill, because now I can remember her the way she'd want to be remembered - among family and friends, the spirited woman who told me stories about learning to fly a plane and her crush on the instructor. I think if I'd been around when she was young we might have been friends. As it is, I didn't know her as well as I wanted to. But no time for regret now. She knew I loved her.

I'll probably be missing class for a few days to attend the funeral. We'll see what happens.

Fragments of thought which would have made up longer entries, had I the motivation.

I went to sleep last night with a polished piece of amethyst in my hand. It was a gift from my little sister, along with a pretty mirror-bottomed box to keep it in. Amethyst is supposed to stimulate the immune system and facilitate spiritual awareness. I was curious whether it would help me dream more vividly or remember them later. I guess not. I woke up this morning to the sound of my stupid, loud country music alarm - I keep forgetting to change the radio station. I don't remember any of my dreams, and I found the amethyst in a fold of the sheet.

Tuesdays seem to hate me. Or maybe it's mornings that hate me... at any rate, this morning certainly wasn't kind. I spilled water on a book I just bought for Core (and haven't totally read), I was almost late for all three of my classes today (and had tests in the first two), I forgot my calculator for the physics test and my good pencil for the math test, and I managed to trip over something invisible on the way to my desk in Physics. And there's a little headache randomly poking my brain and threatening to get worse, though it's been there for over an hour and done nothing extremely painful yet.
Core was canceled today. I can sleep now, I guess.. but I'll likely just read, and find something to eat, and avoid homework.

24 days of class left, according to someone's door. My calendar agrees. Holy acorns, that's nothing! I don't believe I'm this close to being done with my freshman year of college.

I have a job (of sorts). I went to the Penn writer's meeting last night and got an assignment. They pay $7.50 per published story, so if I write one a week I'll actually have an income (though it's hardly a living). And writing for a paper isn't so bad... I just hope my writing is up to par and I can sound objective enough. I think I'll turn in that application to work at the library for next fall. Maybe I'll have a shot at the job.

Grandma is dying. I don't know what else to say about that, I've repeated the story to those who really needed to be told. I probably won't get to see her, but that's all right. Dad and my sisters can bring my love with when they go see her this week.

The forget-me-nots are being pessimists. One of the four is doing rather well, while its companion which was nearly as big appears to have given up and has wilted. In the other flowerpot, the two smaller seedlings are being put through some stress - I just took the lid off their little makeshift greenhouse because they're too big for it. I hope they make it... I want to transplant them to the rock garden at home when I get back for the summer. And I really want to see them flower...

I think too much. I need to follow my heart a little more sometimes.

I'm embarking on a quest of sorts - to read at least half the books in the little tub Rick let me borrow by the end of the semester. It's going to be fun... and time-consuming. At least my homework load this semester is rather light.

Change is good... (or is it?)

I have been assigned a new child to tutor, as the other boy stopped coming and his mother has not called. The new child is in third grade, loves to draw and his favorite season is winter (he likes the snowball fights). He's of indeterminable (from my point of view) asian descent, and I believe he doesn't speak English at home much, which would account for his slurred pronunciation of a lot of words. Even so, he's really bright and reads very quickly.

When I told him that he "might be stuck with me" as his other tutor has quit the program, he was pleased and confided in me that he hadn't liked her very much. I hope he likes me better. He asked to draw a picture of me, and I let him; he produced a pretty good likeness in a few seconds. It looks like me, except for the moustache. ^_^

There was a spider in a corner of the bathroom by the door. I looked at it and it didn't move. I was glad, because otherwise I might have jumped - spiders still frighten me. Thank you, spider.

Spring is coming, slowly. I can see grass again, though I wonder if we'll have more snow and it'll be covered up before it warms up for good. I can't believe I'm nearly through my freshman year of college already. High school never went so fast.

The time of my life...

I've been bloghopping again and realized I hadn't looked at some peoples' blogs for a while. TM's latest entry was about her prom(s) and that made me think about mine. I didn't go to my junior prom. I didn't have a date, I was incredibly self-conscious about being seen in a dress, and I was sure my mother didn't have the money anyway. It was probably for the best because none of my friends went either and I didn't feel at all left out.

I did decide to go to my senior prom. I was determined to create a perfect night so that I could look back thirty years later and say 'that is the best high school memory I have' and it would be true. I looked frantically for the perfect dress - affordable for my parents because I knew they wouldn't pay $400 for my dream ballgown but one that would look dazzlingly good on me and stun all the immature boys who hadn't asked me to prom and shame them into thinking I really was pretty after all. I had a little more self-confidence at that point; I at least wanted the dress to reflect that I felt pretty. I still didn't have a date but my friends were going and surely there would be someone who would ask me to dance... except nobody did. The night wasn't so bad, except that like TM's the prom was held at a country club and the music was all the popular rap/r&b that was totally unsuited for dancing to (ever watch a girl in a full-skirted ballgown try to grind?) and gave me a headache. My hair wasn't perfect (thanks, mom, I know you tried) and no guys danced with me and I ended up feeling rather left out after all even though I went and even though I knew that if I'd stayed home I would have also felt left out. The highlight of the evening was seeing my tomboyish best friend actually wearing a dress. I'll never forget that.

I suppose the point of my tale is that running after happiness never really works. Even though TM's junior prom seems like a dream come true (and was exactly what I would have wished for) I never have found happiness when I was chasing it. It just sneaks up uncalled for and pounces gleefully at the most surprising times. I think some of the most happy memories I have are of moments I can never recreate and wasn't looking for.

Disappointment.

R+D says:
I got distracted and thought "Hm.. I'm going to check [your dad's] blog before I go, just to see if he posted anything"

Meh.
Still Water says:
what'd he post? ;x
Still Water says:
*goes to read*

R+D says:
*Nuzzles*
R+D says:
Your thoughts?
Still Water says:
*reads*
Still Water says:
it just loaded..
R+D says:
Oh
R+D says:
I forgot your connection speed, sorry
R+D says:
*Hugs*
Still Water says:
I don't know what I'm thinking, really. I'm crying. God damnit.. all I ever wanted out of Dad was his approval, and he's never given it unless I followed his rules exactly

Still Water says:
I'm trying to get things right but he's afraid to let me make mistakes
Still Water says:
It's frustrating

About a week ago Badaunt made a "Dear Dad" post. I read it, and thought that I was glad my father wasn't like that.

Yesterday was my birthday, and I saw my dad for the first time in weeks. I had no party, just invited my boyfriend and family to share dinner and cake. It was a wonderful evening, for the most part. However, my father has been growing more and more distant lately. Whenever I see him it seems he has some new comment on my behavior, or another question that I can't find the right way to answer. While I spent most of the evening enjoying the company of my boyfriend and my sisters, my father removed himself to an armchair and sat reading, occasionally trying to read something out loud to us, and giving us Looks. Anyone who's seen one knows what I mean. The eyebrow raised, "And Just What Do You Think You're Doing?" look. Then he posted something in his weblog that reminded me how much I wanted to say to him and haven't found the words for. And so this is to you, dad. Even if you never read it. Even if you don't like what I say. Even if in later years I look back and think that these were the words of a silly little girl still looking for her place in the world.

Dear Dad,
First of all let me say that I still love you. In the past few years I might have grown up a little and away a lot, but you are still my daddy. I still like to come to you with something I have made or found or done, and with that little girl innocence I like to say "Look, Daddy. Look at this" and I still love to see a smile come across your face and see that you approve. That's why it hurts when you don't.

I know I have a lot more growing up to do. There are days I still feel like I'm a five year old, unsure of the world and everything in it. There are times I realize just how little life experience I have only because I've forgotten something or done it the wrong way, and have to go back and fix it. There are still nights I cry when I don't have anyone to tell me things will be all right. But I'm nineteen now, dad. I know that I can't be childish any more. Life doesn't offer a second chance at growing up and I'm long past the stage when I can come to you and sit on your knee when I need comforting. I have to learn how to pick myself up instead of reaching for your hand, and you have to learn how to let me fall down without reaching out to catch me.

When I was very young you used to nudge me out into the world and encourage me to grow. I was intelligent and you encouraged me to be curious, I loved to read and you pushed me into bigger and harder books. Always, when I succeeded there was the smile and when I failed there were gentle words. Now that I'm older you're harder on me. I don't get that smile so much any more and when I do it seems tainted by something sad. What have I done that makes you so unhappy, dad? Have I done the wrong thing in using what you taught me?

I've grown up, I'm not a little girl any more and I am trying to learn new lessons. I need to try and fail because I realize that there are some lessons in which failure can teach more than success. You told me stories as all parents do: of past mistakes which I was not supposed to make, because you had made them already. It's my turn dad, to create stories for my children by making my own mistakes.

I know now that you don't disapprove of my boyfriend as a person. I'm sure you don't disapprove of me entirely, though sometimes I wonder whether that would change if you could see me as I really am. I know that I am strong willed and sometimes very immature, and he can be too. I realize that what you have seen from us is mostly a lot of physical contact without much other involvement. There is a lot you miss. I don't know if you see how happy I am to talk to him, even if it's just small talk about his day. I do not think you see how I worry when he does not get to my dorm on time and the weather is bad, or how gentle he is with me when he touches me or holds my hand. I know you do not hear our conversations, or my thoughts about this relationship, which rarely uncurl themselves and find their way into writing. Maybe you do not even see how much I long for the acceptance that everyone needs and how glad I am to have found it with him.

This is all very silly of me, saying that because he accepts me, this is love. I have no definition of love yet. I say I love him because that word seems to sum up the way I care for him. I do not want to see him hurt, I do not want to see him fail. I want to be there for him as support and as a friend, and maybe as a lover. I want to be proud of what he can do and make him proud by doing what I can to the best of my ability. I want to be able to come home and find him there when I have a bad day and I want to be there for him when he has one. I want to have long conversations with him about the future and the past and world politics and games and books and anything else that catches our fancy. I wanted someone to give my heart to and I believe that he can take care of it. In many ways I am a silly little girl dreaming of fairy-tale romance and I know it.

Does growing up change things so much? Do you now look to love someone so differently from that? Do you not still care for them, support them and wish to see them succeed? Do you not enjoy their presence even if words are not spoken, and delight in conversation because you might just discover something new? Do you not wish to be near the ones you love, so that you can offer a hug or a smile or a hand to hold? If you can define love and put it in a little box for me I would like you to send it to my dorm - you have the address - and please leave instructions regarding who it is to be given to and how it is allowed to be demonstrated.

We are a physical couple. I see it so much now among those I know that I have taken it as a natural thing that I should display the emotion I feel. I see nothing wrong with holding hands, or "fondling" each other's hand, as you so described it. Even I will admit that sometimes our displays of affection are inappropriate. We are children yet and we will become more respectful of others with time. You say that public physical contact shouts of relational insecurity. I can stretch my imagination and see your reason, I think. Somehow we have developed insecurities - look at me, daddy. Remember that a healthy and secure relationship first starts with the parents. Before I "loved" him, I loved you and mom. If I am insecure in a relationship, am I then to blame you? Look at my past two tries. Those failures hurt, as any failure does. Insecurities are present in any relationship. They don't always tear people apart.

You are right that I may deny any wrong in my relationship and will do so blindly, I have done it before. I expect that he would do the same thing. If I am insecure it is because I still want the promise of commitment, to be reassured. Losing someone I love frightens me like nothing else. I don't pretend to know why and I don't know if that will ever change. I think maybe one day I'll learn to let go.

“Do I want to be right? Or do I want to be happy?” I want to be happy, daddy. I want to make you happy, too... but I need to learn how to make the right choices even if it means making wrong ones first. I know that you would rather keep me safe from the pain that this world can cause, but I've endured so far and I'm all right. If sixth grade* did not cripple me noticeably, neither will this. Let me mature at my own pace now and be glad you had all this time to prepare me to leave the nest. I remember a lot of your lessons after all.

You tell me now that I need to bail out of this relationship because it will hurt me later. You say it as though you are sure that a commitment is something neither of us can make, as though we can not survive some rough conditions along the road of life. I see you now, and see that you are separated from my mother after years of marriage and wonder: if you can point out the mistakes that I make, is it because you finally noticed your own? Am I walking in your footsteps, or is my chosen path one you have not followed to see where it might lead, and one you can not guide me down?

I'm not sure if I'm saying all I wanted to say in the way I wanted to say it, dad. See, I'm trying to show you why it hurts so much when you disapprove now. I'm still that little girl on the inside. I'm also trying to describe what I think and feel and hoping that you might understand and respect that I have a mind of my own. You are the one who told me it was all right to think on my own, and now I ask that I be allowed to. I did not learn to walk without falling and I can not learn to be a mature adult without a few more spills. Just walk a little behind me daddy, and be there when I can't get up.

*Sixth grade was hell. Adolescent girls can rip each other apart and for reasons I won't bore you with, they turned on me.

For those who don't know, I really do plan to marry him, but I'm not ready for it yet and I know it. Give me four or five years to get through IUP, into grad school and find a steady job or internship. Give him that time to finish PTI, maybe go on to a higher degree and find a good job for himself. We want to spend our lives together, and we know that if we plan to have decades together after we're married, a few years of waiting should not matter.

Thinking out loud

One of my neighbors is a transfer student who came in a few weeks back. She hasn't had much time to adjust to Whitmyre yet, and still keeps to herself as far as I've seen. Her boyfriend, who apparently has been on campus all year, must have been happy that she transferred. She's apparently not, though.

I overheard her tearfully yelling at him this morning, because I happen to have bad timing and was walking back from class at the moment she finished her attack and stormed out of the study lounge. I can safely assume I'm not the only one who heard; the door was partially open and she was loud enough to be heard indistinctly from the stairwell. I'm not quite sure what to make of this. I suspect it's happened before. She seemed rather upset about it too. He, on the other hand, looked more confused than anything else. I feel bad for him in some way.

At the same time I worry about my neighbor's well being, I have come to realize how blessed I am to have a stable relationship where there's no yelling, no "I thought you loved me!" and no storming out of rooms. It seems that taking the time to understand your partner is becoming less and less of a priority for my peers, despite its obvious importance to a healthy relationship.

I was brought up in a supportive, loving family, which provided me with at least some base to build my relationship experience on. Then I hit high school and had two relationships, neither of which was much good for various reasons. Despite my "failure" I see those past partners as learning experiences, sounding boards for socialization. I'm now on number three, and have been with him for seven happy months. This is what I've learned:

Trust is important. If you don't trust someone, it's difficult to love them.

Equally important is honesty, because honesty builds trust. You don't have to tell her that she looks fat in that dress, but you should tell her if you're coming home late.

Separate but equal is better than inseperable and unequal. You can't become dependent on someone else unless you're capable of independence already, otherwise you're lost when your partner isn't there. It's also hard to hold up one end of a relationship when the other end isn't doing much work. Partners are just that - not boss and underling, but co-workers.

Relationships are like bridges. They can span distances, they can get across obstacles, and they can lead to undiscovered territory. They can also collapse without proper structural support.

Communication is the key to doors you didn't know existed. Some of them hide scary things behind them, but others have more wonderful prizes than you could imagine. Talk to your partner, and let them talk to you. You might find something really exciting.

I often wonder why so many people can recite these lessons, and yet don't follow them. This isn't the times tables, it's a guide to better, longer, healthier and happier relationships. One would think people might like the idea of a lasting marriage, or even a steady significant other. Who am I to tell everyone what to think, though? They're doing so well on their own... and maybe it's for the best that few people in this world have long term relationships, stay together to start families, and raise them properly. I'm still saddened by the incredibly high divorce rate in this country. I think it has more to say about American Values than any "War on Terror" ever could.

Observations on a world

copied directly from my livejournal, because I figure that once in a while a random bit of thought deserves a place here among my unfinished ranting
This morning, it rained. Halfway through the morning the weather changed its mind and decided that it didn't care if the temperature was still 40, it was going to snow, and ever since then it's been randomly dropping wet snowflakes and bits of hail over campus in hopes of getting it to stick somewhere.

When I got out of Physics Lab, campus was miraculous. Mother Nature had momentarily stopped trying to reincarnate winter, and everything was crystal-clear - like a 3-D picture that you suddenly see when everything just leaps off the background. It was all sharp edges and points and perfectly defined shapes. The entire world had depth. Forgive me, maybe everyone sees things like that, but I've always had problems with depth perception due to my nearsightedness. Maybe it was just that everything was separate, and each person, building, tree and ripple in the puddles stood out from all the rest. I was watching a scene of thousands of layers put one on top of the other, but none of the layers really seemed like they were interacting, and I wasn't either. There was nothing I could have reached out and touched, not because it would have ruined the illusion but because things were on other layers of existence at that moment.

I must sound like I'm on drugs. I think too much about things, anyone who knows me will agree. There's just so much to think about that I don't want to miss something. gnikniht ekil I. *giggles* I'm paranoid that if I said that forwards someone would come silence me. :P I'm crazy, you know...

Walking back from Ed Psych today, the sky was doing one of its impressive juxtapositions of sun and clouds again and looking absolutely stunning... It seems like Indiana is one of those places that is just blessed when it comes to sunshine. There was a circle of grey cloud all the way around the horizon, and yet right above my head there was pure blue sky so intense that it looked out of place against the faded late winter colors of everything else, and the sun was warm on my face and it was wonderful.

Either the sky here does more beautiful things than the sky over my house and makes me look up more, or I'm just looking up because I'm happy and confident, and noticing what's above me more often. I used to look at my feet when I walked, and I've noticed lately that my feet aren't getting nearly as much attention as the birds, trees and sky. It makes me smile.

Of course, the sun never lasts long on days like this, and it makes me wonder how many people missed seeing it for the brief twenty minutes or so that it was out. My quote of the day yesterday was: "I want to find a nice sunny spot and curl up on the floor and purr." Jane gave me a 'You're Weird, People Don't Purr' Look for saying it, but that's what I wanted to do... It was lovely yesterday, sunny and warm and I went without a jacket, and if the ground had been warmer I would have gone barefoot. I miss going barefoot, shoes are overrated. So is makeup. People look better without artificial enhancement.

Only two and a half days till I see Rick again. Wow. That makes me happy too, because I like having him around ^_^. *hugs him*

Happy...

Is it sad that we miss each other already?

I liked having another person in the room. It was good to come "home" after classes today and have him here, waiting for me. It was wonderful to have someone to hug at random, someone to curl up next to and watch anime with, someone to laugh with. I felt like I was complete, and I was content to stay that way.

But he stayed the whole weekend and today as well, and that's more than I'd ever ask of him most times. The roses were a romantic touch to the weekend... 18 of them in colors that rival the sunrise. They're beautiful; I put them in the vase he sent me with the last bouquet. This has been the best Valentine's Day of my short life, and I don't think I'll ever forget it.

We saw a Korean film on Sunday, part of the Indiana Foreign Film Festival. We also went out to eat, at the King Buffet again. ^_^ It's becoming something of a tradition and it's one I like.

And I didn't have a lot of time to miss him right after he left, which is usually when it hits hardest that I have an empty room again. We went to Taco Bell, and afterward he dropped me off at the door of Whitmyre and left. I had to run off to KidsRead. There's a mixed blessing in working with children: you have to focus all of your attention on them, so that there's no time for other thoughts or feelings. I know kids tend to pick up on it when an adult is distant and since I had to be a replacement tutor tonight I was determined to put on my happy face and push everything else away. It worked, until the session ended...

I'm not lusting after him. I just miss his presence, his jokes, his smile. I miss having someone by my side who at least tries to understand me, who makes sure I get into bed early enough that I get some sleep before class, who tickles me randomly just to hear me giggle. I miss the way he sits and watches cars and can pick out a few of them before I even realize they're there. I miss his geekiness and I miss being able to reach out and brush his hair back when those few unruly strands fall forward. It's getting long, and it looks good, even if it does cover up those beautiful blue eyes.

So is it sad that I miss him? He misses me, too.

Memorize

Then Jove said to Apollo, "Go to Hector, for Neptune who holds the earth in his embrace has gone down beneath the sea to avoid the severity of my displeasure. Had he not the gods below with Saturn would have come to hear of our fight. It is better for both of us that he curbed his anger, for I should have had much trouble with him."
Take, therefore, your great weapon, and shake it furiously so as to strike fear into the hearts of the Achaean heroes; take also brave Hector into your care, and rouse him to deeds of daring until the Achaeans are sent flying to their ships. From that point I will think well on how the Achaeans may have a respite from their troubles."

Apollo obeyed his father's saying, and flew from Mount Ida like a falcon, bane of doves and swiftest of all birds. He came upon Hector no longer lying upon the ground, but sitting up, for he had just come to himself. Apollo stood by him and said, "Hector son of Priam, why are you so faint, and why are you here away from the others? Has some mishap befallen you?"

Hector answered in a weak voice, "Which of the gods are you, kind sir, who now asks me thus? Do you not know that Ajax struck me in the chest with a rock as I was killing his comrades at the ships of the Achaeans? I made sure that this very day I would breathe my last and go down into the house of Hades."

King Apollo then said to him, "Take heart, for the sun of Saturn has sent a great helper to you from Ida, even myself, Apollo of the golden sword, who hitherto have been guardian not only of yourself but of your city. Therefore, order your horsemen to drive their chariots to the ships of the Achaeans in great multitude, and I will come before and smooth the way for you, and will turn the Achaeans in flight."

I typed that mostly from memory, with a quick look at my handwritten copy. It's not The Iliad in verse the way it's usually translated, but it is The Iliad nonetheless. I'm supposed to memorize a part of my choosing for class this afternoon. ^_^'

What's the use of memorization? We're doing it in class to illustrate how people passed down oral traditions and works of literature, but I remember in high school how many things I had to remember, and how many I chose to. Shakespeare, four plays: Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, Macbeth and Hamlet. I had to memorize Juliet's soliloquy (complete with Romeo's interjection and every mark of punctuation), Macbeth's rant (Out, out brief candle!), and Hamlet's ponderings (To sleep, perchance to dream -). The funny thing is that despite starting my memorization as late as possible while still getting good grades on the tests, I remember most of it now. I also had to memorize the last verse of a poem whose title I never get quite right... The Wedding Guest or something along those (these?) lines:

"Farewell, farewell! But this I tell
To thee, o wedding guest:
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the great god who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

Forgive me if it's not perfect in punctuation or wording, it's been three years; and yet there's something about those lines that stuck with me even after I forgot most of the short stories and the authors of every book we read in that class. They must serve some purpose, all the things I've learned and not used since are long forgotten, stored in some dusty memory bank whose connections are being rediverted to newer things.

Our Core question in Unit A was "What do we know? What do we believe? What, therefore, should we do?" and my class focused on the question from the perspective of memory. It seems that our memory effects a lot of what we know and believe. If I remember something a certain way, I believe it to exist that way until someone proves me wrong. If enough people remember it that way, then we "know" that it exists that way because we have others to lend support to our theory/belief and make it law/knowledge. I remember that the earth is round; I was taught so by someone who truly believed the earth is round. It's a proven belief, therefore it becomes knowledge. Memory also effects what we decide to believe. We have to take some things as fact, such as the existence of gravity, but other things such as the existence of "God" are belief, they can not be proven nor disproven by a solid theory as of yet. Certain people may not believe in God due to incidents they remember, like losing loved ones for what they see as "no good reason" and blaming God for it, or deciding that there is no God because "he would have saved them!".

I'm thinking about focusing on memory and whether we remember things that are relevant to us in our daily lives as a topic for my thesis paper. Memory fascinates me. There has to be a reason that certain people remember certain things, and an explanation behind my ability to remember poetry and songs from years ago when I have no luck remembering names and dates that I learned last week. Maybe there's some part of our brain devoted to exact, perfect memorization. It would make sense, given that some people claim to have a "photographic memory." If this is so, then all of us might be able to remember anything we wanted.

I also think it's fascinating how fast people forget certain aspects of life. Part of my argument on memory was sparked by a thought on recent history and what people remember about it. Works like the Iliad survive because people remember them and eventually write them down, and since they're remembered we assume that they're "good," but what do we remember about our country? We remember Monica Lewinsky, we can still talk about Enron and we make jokes about OJ, Marilyn Manson and Martha Stewart. Most people couldn't tell you the date that the DOW topped 10,000, but they can describe in minute detail where they were and what they were doing the moment they heard about the Sept. 11 attacks.

Martha Stewart had nothing to do with me. Her crime was irrelevant to my life; I neither gained useful knowledge nor lost anything important (other than the space of the memory) when I heard about the scandal. I still remember it, though. Is this memory just an effect of repetition, because the news media made such a fuss over it, or is it some social survival tactic which allows me to remember things I may need to know to look informed? The latter hardly seems likely. Can you imagine Adam and Eve wandering around going "Hey, did you hear about the wombats? Seems they're being eaten by the wild dogs, we should look into that," or the people of Pompeii chatting on the street corner, "Oh, by the way, did you hear about that volcano?" "Yeah, I'm really worried about getting ashes in my wine."

Either way, it's a fascinating topic. So is whether we actually remember anything except the terrific and the terrible. Think about that one. I know I will.

Just because.

It took me two tries to get the new comments code up and working. Thank you, Badaunt! Now you should be able to click on the comments link and see the comments displayed right below the post, without loading a new page. Nice, eh?

I plan to put another long update here before tomorrow. I have had a lot to think about lately.

About the Cover:

A short introduction to the problem of school I very much agree with this article, and may link to it in the sidebar, because it is well worth remembering.

Notes on Critical Thinking:
"Critical thinking" in the sense I was taught it means ARQ. For those uninitiated in the ways of the Honors College here, I will give a brief explanation of what ARQ means, and what it represents.
Browne, M. Neil, and Keeley, Stuart M. Asking the Right Questions: A Guide to Critical Thinking. 7th Ed. Upper Saddle River, New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 2004.
On the second page just below the Library of Congress catalog information is a small paragraph which I believe most people overlook, as it's hidden with the rest of the publishing data and seems unimportant. It reads:

"About the cover: At first glance, you may have thought you were looking at a photograph of a road sign somewhere in Europe. Did you question this initial impression? What did you first notice about the sign? Did your mind start to realize that your initial assumption was wrong? Why? This road sign is actually located in southern Maine, where many towns were given European place names. In becoming a critical thinker, you learn to take control of your own thought processes and go beyond the obvious by questioning, analyzing, and evaluating your own thoughts and ideas."

ARQ has 14 chapters encompassing 11 steps to well developed critical thinking skills. The "right questions" we are taught to ask are as follows:
1. What are the Issue and Conclusion?
2. What are the Reasons?
3. What words or phrases are Ambiguous?
4. What are the Value Conflics and Assumptions?
5. What are the Descriptive Assumptions?
6. Are there any Fallacies in the Reasoning?
7. How Good is the Evidence? (two chapters)
8. Are there Rival Causes?
9. Are the Statistics Deceptive?
10. What Significant Information is Omitted?
11. What Reasonable Conclusions are Possible?

Of course these are reasonable questions to ask when one is faced with an argument for abortion, or a speech about the State of the Union. We should analyze what we hear to be sure we're not just (excuse my language) swallowing bullshit. These questions, however, are meant to help us question and analyze our own thoughts and ideas, as stated in that little paragraph on the title page.

Am I to understand that the point of critical thinking is to create self-doubt? When I am taught to question every original thought I have, it leads me to believe that my ideas, and therefore my self, are inherently flawed. That's great for self esteem.

That's just one problem the schools have. I'm too tired to go into it all. Let it suffice to say I could write a doctoral thesis on the problems of the American Education system, and I've got case examples straight from my own family.

To be, or not to be shallow; That is the question...

The following appeared in my inbox the other day, and being curious (and female) I decided to pay some attention. Of course, it only led to pessimism (and a lovely half-assed rant).

"Hello Students!
The 16th Annual Miss IUP Pageant is quickly approaching on Saturday, April 2nd, 2005. If you are interested in becoming the next Miss IUP, please join us at the next planning meeting at 8pm on Thursday, February 3rd in the HUB Conemaugh Room."

This looked exciting, even though I knew very well that "Pageant" stands for "Sexual Appeal and Popularity Competition." But surely, they're not all that bad... I shrugged off my preconceptions and dove in.

Date: Tue, 01 Feb 2005 14:36:00 -0500
Hi,
I have some questions about the Miss IUP Pageant. What exactly are the categories contestants will be judged in, and what preparation do we need?
Also, can you provide some information on past winners? I'd like to know what kind of person you are looking for to become the next Miss IUP.
Thank you

The reply was prompt:
"The categories that you will be judged on are, Talent, Formal wear, and Aerobic wear, also you will be judged on a 7 min interview on the day of the pageant and a question during the formal wear. There will be meetings and patience's that you will have to attend
We are not looking for a particular person. Anyone that fits the requirements and has the time to put into the practices. If you feel you are a good candidate to be the next Miss IUP then you should defiantly think about it."

So, slightly disheartened and twitchy from trying not to correct a few things in the response (defiantly?! *twitch*) and email it back to her, I went looking for past winners. This was two years ago.

...Yep, that's really gonna be my thing. What would my talent be? I don't do impressions, I don't dance, my singing voice isn't all that great, and I don't think any of the sorority girls would be impressed by my ability to create a simple web page or contemplate the works of Plato using ARQ. Who would?

A few years ago, recruiters for the Miss Teen USA competition sent me information and asked if I would enter. They included bios of the past winners, and requirements for entering. I can't remember them all, but I do remember thinking that they'd never take a girl with glasses any farther than the first level of competition. Yet again, here I am looking at another popularity pageant that claims it's open to anyone, and thinking "well, it closed its doors on me before I even opened my mouth." Look at me, compared to the average beauty queen:

Me
Height, Weight: 5'8", 125 or so.
Cup size: Barely A
Hair: Long, straight.
All-natural.
Glasses?: Yes.
Talents: Singing (maybe).
Working with children.
Procrastinating
Telling the truth
Makeup: Not unless I'm in a play
Would: Stop the war on Iraq
Respect my elders
Apply for citizenship in Mexico
Volunteer work: KidsRead, I love it
Habitat (If I had time!)
Girl Scouts. Because I am one.
Looks good in: Tshirts, jeans, hoodies. Long skirts. Sneakers.

"Beauty"
Height/Weight: 5'8", 112 or so.
Cup Size: At least B
Hair: Permed, curled or straightened, dyed/highlighted
Glasses?: No, or she wears contacts.
Talents: Singing (perfectly)
Dance
Playing instrument(s)
Putting on a mask (and she does drama, too!)
Makeup: Always. And it's perfect.
Would: Save the puppies and kitties
Be "kind" to the elderly
Tell everyone how great the US is
Volunteer work: KidsRead, it makes her look good
Humane Society (Awww, puppies!)
Sorority activities. She's probably in one.
Looks good in: Tight shirts, tight pants, short shorts. Heels.

Formal wear? I don't own any, aside from my old prom dress. Nor do I have the money to go out and look for the perfect $400 dress for a competition like this, plus the bone-crunching high heels of death that would have to come with it. And accessories. Oh, yes. Accessories. She'd probably have a closet full of slinky, sparkly things and still want a new dress, shoes, purse, hair clip, makeup and scarf.

This saddens me. Beauty pageants are not only damaging to girls' self esteem, they're damaging to our common sense. We reward the shallow aspects of someone's personality, the overtones that shade them in rosy hues but hide the emptiness within. We would rather have Barbie than Mother Theresa, unless the latter was a drop-dead gorgeous specimen of human flesh on top of being humble, generous and forgiving.

I may be beautiful in my own way, but it's not the kind of beauty they're looking for. I don't even shave my legs on a regular basis any more. There's not a reason to, except to impress boys with my smooth, "delicate" skin.

There is nothing wrong with the body in its natural form. Humans were given hair on their bodies for a reason, whether it's remnants of fur (hi, evolutionists!) or whether we were given hairy bodies by God (*waves at the Christians*). Either way, there is little sense in removing what little hair we have. I've heard arguments about cleanliness. Well, if you bathe every day you're not going to smell. Unless you're licking yourself like a cat, that is. Hair also serves as another barrier for pathogens. Cilia, anyone? They're tiny hairs. You can't tell me that having hairy legs makes me dirtier than a girl who has smooth legs. That's absurd.

Breasts are an issue, too. People used to make fun of me because I was flat-chested until long after most of my friends had filled their bras. I remember in sixth grade hearing rumors of people stuffing their bras, and thinking how mean it was that the other girls would make fun either way. Damned if you do and damned if you don't, because if you're flat you don't fit with the popular girls and if you stuff a bra you're a poser. Why don't people just get over the fact that smaller breasts are just as beautiful as large ones? In my opinion, smaller is better. You don't see many gymnasts, runners or dancers with a C-cup, do you?

Men seem to have gotten it into their heads these days that the bigger a girl's cup size, the greater she'll be. In bed, in a relationship, or as a friend, coworker, or employee. I have gotten it into my head that the bigger a girl wants her cup size to be, the smaller her IQ tends to be. That's not always true but it fits a good percentage of the population most of the time. =P

The human body is beautiful naturally. I don't see the need to add to that beauty with layers of makeup, attention-grabbing clothing and in some cases, surgery. Accenting it with well-fitting (but not skintight) clothing and keeping yourself in good physical shape aren't bad things, but people take looking "beautiful" to an extreme, and it's one I don't want to go to.

Stephanie says "Enter! Try!" and so maybe I will. The planning meeting is tonight. I'll go take a shower and dress myself nicely, and see what this is all about. Who knows, maybe I'll find out something new about these people, and about myself. Either way, I'll prove that someone other than a beach babe is interested in representing IUP.

Some small measure of peace...

dad says:
so, how are you?
Still Water says:
I miss you guys
dad says:
what brought that on?
Still Water says:
The blog
dad says:
ah - yeah.. the latest post?
Still Water says:
*nods*
dad says:
yeah, I miss you too.
dad says:
more than you know.

R+D says:
I miss you
Still Water says:
I miss you too

I guess what I wanted to say here is that no matter what, there's always going to be someone thinking of me, and missing me. And I'll be missing them. It's been a little over five months since I moved into the residence hall here at IUP, thinking it would be a nice change from the house, with my sometimes annoying little sisters and my constantly nagging mother. In those five months I've been home twice on weekends when Rick happened to be going up north for something, plus a break for Thanksgiving and another at Christmas. Suddenly, that feels like far too little time.

I've been feeling more and more left out lately; I'm not being included in the life of my family any more. They talk to me, on occasion. Mom emails every week or so, dad calls... sibling 1 doesn't speak to me unless I speak first, which proves difficult with my tendency to get distracted by other (often less important) things. She herself is growing up quite well, and at times I am jealous of how she's turned out, because she is an outstanding young woman. I have no doubt that she will succeed in whatever she decides to do, and I'm proud of her for it, even as I look on slightly envious that she somehow managed to pull her life together faster than I did mine. Sibling 2 has chatted with me recently, and appears to miss me at least, but she's only 13 and rarely allowed online long enough to have a good chat. She's growing up without me around all of a sudden, and even though she's six years younger and an incredible distance from me in some aspects of her personality, I still love her. I see in her a lot that reflects myself at that age, and because of that I worry that she'll make the same mistakes I did. I want to be around to help her grow up, be a cool older sister who she can come to when she needs her hair done for a dance or advice on that boy in her math class, or just needs a shoulder to cry on. I used to think that I'd be glad I was graduating high school the year before she entered it. Now I wish I hadn't been so quick to dismiss my little shadow as someone I didn't need to see once in a while.

The best sources of news now are mom's emails and letters and the blogs. Sibling 1 and dad both have one, and I assume that Sibling 2 may start one as well, when she gets a little older and has the time to sit down and write. I hope the two who have them already continue to update, since this is the only way I've been able to feel like I'm still connected to my family. Being so far away has suddenly become hard to deal with at times. I don't quite understand it yet. I know that if I lived at home I'd be sick of them in no time, but being removed from people who know me better than anyone else does makes me realize how much I miss having them around. That they know just how to get under my skin is an indication of how well they really do know who I am.

Another thing I wonder is whether I've really changed as much as I believe, or if they have all been changes that were waiting to happen anyway. A lot has happened in the last five months and some of it I haven't told to my family, whether it's just the course of a day and what was said or done to make me think about something new, or something that took place over the course of a week or month or longer which I simply left untold. There are some secrets, of course... things which I don't think my family would want to know, or things I don't want them to... but for the most part, I wish I could share with them the happenings of every day, because I want them to see what I've been seeing and find out what I learned. Sharing with friends here has taken the place of talking to family, to some extent, but even most of my friends here don't know me that well yet, nor do they hear half of what I think and feel. I miss my family.

Last weekend Rick came to vist, and to attend the winter semi-formal I'd invited him to weeks ago. I count him among the family too, now. It was a relief to see him, and I had a great time at the dance. Unfortunately, we didn't even get 24 hours together, since he was being driven by his grandparents and they needed to get back home (they live not far from my family). I know I shouldn't complain, that I should be grateful for every second I get with this wonderful man, but I also wish that I could have more than just two weekends a month with him. It's hard holding up a relationship when you're an hour and a half away from each other and the only contact you have is online plus the occasional phone call. He's actually on the phone with me now ^_^ and it's great to hear his voice. "You're so female" he says, referring to the joke I just missed. I miss a lot of jokes, more so when I'm tired. He says a lot of females miss them, though. Apparently guys are too insane to understand. I believe it sometimes.

It's getting near bed time for me. I really should get to bed earlier. Pulling myself out of bed at 6:15 is just not working when I don't get into bed before midnight. *sigh*

R+D says:
Had I wings, I'd fly you home

And so, good night. I'm off to dream of something that hopefully doesn't involve missing my family, homework or spiders. Sweet dreams, world.

Every girl needs a man...

...that she can go to in her sweats, hair a mess, make up running down her face, eyes red from crying and the first thing he says to her is "Baby, you're beautiful" and means it.

Me: (Sends picture of me in oversized hoodie, eyes bloodshot 'cause I'm so tired, hair a mess and falling out of its braid)
Me: there, me as I look now
Him: Ooh
Him: Now if it'd connect *glares at it*
Me: hehe
He received *.JPG.
Him: Beautiful ;-)
Me: gah
Me: *hugs and kisses*
Him: *Hugs and kisses back*
Him: Gah what? :-P
Him: You're beautiful no matter what.

And this is the perfect man ^^ I'm not sure my father would say so but I am in love, and love doesn't pay attention to parental advisories.

You don't know me...

...and you don't want to.
That's what my shirt says today. Seems kinda appropriate, considering my mood. Nobody likes to deal with me like this.

Meh. I'm hungry. I had a chai latte and a lemon poppyseed muffin for breakfast. Java City is a life-saver. Even so, I want lunch already. Thank god it's Wednesday, and I didn't have health because the prof's doing some conference thing.

There's apparently a hawk in the Oak Grove. I want to get an up-close look but I'm rarely around between classes to watch for it.

I want it to snow. The temp's been hovering around 40 for a few days and there's frost on the ground in the mornings now but no snow... it barely seems like winter despite being November. I feel like this weather is unusual because I can only remember two Halloweens in my 18 years that didn't have snow, and then the weather was still below 45 that night. This year it stayed incredibly warm to the point that until this week I didn't even need to wear a jacket. Amazing... but I still want snow.

I also should go work on NaNo now, instead of sitting in the Comm room after the class is over. (we got out early again)

My sister made it to States for XC. I'm incredibly proud.

um?

Looks like this blog is pretty much going to be abandoned. *shrugs* At least I got the background image to work. It looks pretty.

I think... I should stop avoiding my work and get it done with. I'll feel much better.

Music, and musings

*sings along to AFI* <3>

I am tired. Very.

Yay for people who love me. I love them back. 'Specially Rick and Jane. ^^

I want: A long, hot, relaxing bath. A full-body massage *grin*. A good night's sleep, with no interruptions, no bad dreams, no waking up halfway through the night for unknown reasons and no classes to worry about the next day. Waking up next to Rick would be nice, too.
Instead I get more homework, quick showers that lately haven't been as warm as they used to be (probably because the bathroom's cold), and aching muscles that don't seem to have any reason to ache. :( *sigh* I will live. Just not as happily.

I miss Rick, and Jane's companionship, while helpful, also serves to confuse me as to what I feel for her. -.- Anyway. This is a rant for my journal, not my blog. I may go lay down.

Winter approaches, and so do midterms...

Didn't sleep well last night, for some reason. It could have been the pent-up frustration left over from my math homework and the neglected thesis paper with a rough draft due Friday; it might have been the girls down the hall totally disregarding the quiet hour rules. It may even have been because I stayed up way too late Sunday night and it's just now catching up with me. All I know is that I wasn't too happy this morning and I think I need a nap.

I also closed my fingers in the door last night, though not hard enough to do anything more than make me laugh at myself.

It was cold this morning, I heard someone say 30, and I believe it, because I saw frost on the grass outside Zink Hall. Damn, winter's coming. Seems that it's coming too fast, though. There haven't been enough of those wonderful, cool, crisp, apple picking, running through leaves, admiring the colors kind of fall days... as if summer lasted too long and there won't be an autumn this year.

Time to find my chapstick again.