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.

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.

Nature is fun - even the rocks.

The nature pilgrimage was great as always, although this year I spent half the time missing Rick and the other half hiking through thick woods and up hills and generally tiring myself out. The excersize was welcome, but now my legs are complaining about it. We started out on Friday with rain, but that let up and only sprinkled throughout the day while I went out and did some nature art with pastels. That was a good session, I actually learned something about working with pastels and managed to bring back a decent half-finished work of art. Mom has pastels here that she said I could use to finish it up, when and if I want to.

Saturday was busy, since in the morning I went geocaching with the Jamestown Audubon Society's teen group. It was their first time and mine too, and it took us a while to acquaint ourselves with the GPS reciever we'd borrowed and to get the hang of finding the caches. We got two of them, and had a great time walking up and down hills in the course of our treasure hunt. It's exciting to find the geocaches and see what's inside, though one of them was only full of cheap plastic toys, the other had some better things inside. The idea of geocaching is that if you find a cache and remove something, you should put something back, so I left a bead lizard I had made a few years ago at camp in one of the caches. I didn't take anything for myself, deciding to leave the treasures to the Audubon group. It was fun enough to get involved in a treasure hunt and learn something about how to use a GPS reciever.

After the geocaching excitement I got to take a four hour hike through the most wild country in the park, where there is an old growth forest with trees over 400 years old in some places. It was an amazing tour and our guide was very knowledgeable, having done this same walk (always a different, unmarked route) for years. He went and explored a place that he said he'd never been, and it turned out to hold some great surprises. I saw a few flowers that I hadn't seen much of before, and also got to taste a basswood leaf. They're edible in the springtime before they get too big and tough; I didn't know that before. It's amazing what you learn when you're not expecting it.

Today there were some sessions in the morning but we slept in and spent the morning packing instead. After the nature pilgrimage we always head up the road a few miles to the most awesome rock outcroppings in the park - Thunder Rocks. We spend a few hours there among the boulders, have lunch and climb. The area sits on a hilltop and has a grouping of huge, old chunks of sedimentary rock that must have gotten kicked up from the bedrock when the glaciers were passing through. While the park does not condone climbing them, most people under the age of 40 or so try to climb every rock there, even the ones that have been proven time after time to be unscalable. A few are small and have plenty of handholds or tree roots to grab onto, while others are huge and provide some challenging faces. Some are mossy and damp from unseen springs or cracks within them, which makes climbing all the more fun (and dangerous). There is one boulder about 40 feet high which has a wonderfully easy crevice straight up the side, until within feet of the top, where it overhangs and forms a horizontal ledge underneath, which is the only way to the top once you're up the crevice. That ledge is the bane of my climbing experience because I've never quite gotten up the courage to crawl along it (remember, it's 40+ feet up and mostly smooth, which means no handholds). I still want to get on top of that rock one day. The other side isn't bad to climb either but getting started is tough without a boost or a rope. Anyway, I climbed all over and got up a few challenging rocks and finally scraped my knee on one, but came back dirty and tired and smiling nonetheless. We got home and unpacked the van, and then headed for the pool. The water was a balmy 68 F, which isn't bad for this time of year and felt fantastic after the heat of Thunder Rocks and the car ride back. Sister and friend joined us after a little while and we all splashed around and fought over the pool floaties while the adults watched from a safe and shaded distance. I must have spent about an hour in the water, and I feel slightly waterlogged but really content. It's been a relatively good weekend.

I went for another walk today, around the five acres or so that's on the far side of the driveway. There are a lot of paths, or at least path remnants, where the boys who lived here before us used to ride their dirtbikes. They hunted, too. Now we three girls don't do anything of the sort and the woodland plants have started to reclaim things. There are wild berries of all sorts back there, and it's perfect for the deer, who have increased their numbers despite the hunters on adjacent properties. All the paths are delightfully overgrown and while I know I shouldn't be wandering barefoot through the brush, it's too much trouble to put on pants and sneakers just for a fifteen minute traipse down the grassy deer paths.

I startled a few birds on the way, and saw a doe and fawn from a distance, but the doe noticed me and when I tried to get closer she snorted and ran. The fawn was tiny, and I wish I'd have had my camera to try to get a picture, but it probably wouldn't have come out. I didn't see any other wild creatures, unless the newts in the pond count. The muskrat seems to be back, as there's a new hole on the end where the pond is damned up and seeps out into a little creek. It's marshy ground and there are a lot of deer tracks, though they're hidden under the buttercups this time of year. I love the wildflowers we have on the property, and I can find just about any of them at a moment's notice - proof I spend too much time wandering aimlessly in the woods.

I think I meandered into a patch of poison ivy, but since I stepped out and came back and washed my feet, I don't think I'll end up with it. There's no itching so far, anyway. I don't know, maybe it wasn't poison ivy at all. I was tempted to pick a leaf and rub it on a patch of skin just to test the theory that I'm immune (I've suspected as much since last summer when I wandered around several paths at camp which were overgrown with the stuff and never came up with so much as a single itchy spot). Then again... I'm going to spend three days in nature this weekend and I don't feel like starting them off with poison ivy. Maybe I'll end them with it instead. :P

It's The End of The World... Again.

I've been hearing a lot recently about some very disturbing topics, from some very non-politically oriented sources. This bothers me. These forums are getting surprisingly politically active considering most of the members are only connected because they own the same kind of car. This thread might be expected, since it's relevant to the price of gas... but it's still odd that something so "deep" would find its way to a forum. In my experiences forums, especially the larger ones, tend to be shallow places; people in large groups start experiencing herd mentality and don't deal well with actual thought.

There is more, too. I have heard friends talking about news they've heard or read regarding the oil shortage and our privacy and 'conspiracy theories', and the media is picking up on more "crisis" stories than I seem to remember. These stories aren't just sitting on the back pages any more; someone seems to think they're important and the public should see them. But why?

Deforestation and desertification in the Sahara haven't been addressed much, even though that's a major environmental issue. Nor has the news picked up on the remaining insurgents in Iraq who continue to kill our soldiers every day using simple bombs and guerilla warfare. A thought just occurred to me: there's almost no way to win against guerilla fighters. We started (and ended) the American Revolution with guerilla tactics which the British troops couldn't understand or strategize against. The French Revolution went much the same way until the people took control (and then got way out of control with Mme Guillotine). Vietnam? WWII and the island hopping? Take a wild guess what tactics were used. How many battles have people really won against guerilla warfare? I can't name one war where the tactic was used against an "organized" army in the open and the organization paid off in the long run. Surprise is an element that is difficult to overcome.

Back on topic: the news. The media online has become much more focused on topics other than Iraq, and it seems to me that they're digging up controversial issues (some of which, coincidentally, have been around for decades or longer) to distract the public eye from more pressing issues. It seems to be working, too. I don't keep up with the news very well, except what I catch if CNN happens to be on in a room I'm in, or someone posts it on a blog I watch. I don't know how much of the news is still about the War on Terror. I did catch a few muted minutes of CNN in a restaurant the other day. they were doing a story on Bush. The video was of him speaking to a group of officers at some military establishment, and the caption said something to the effect of "Bush: Winning the War in Iraq." I did a double-take and nearly spit out my soda. Winning? War?! Excuse me, but wasn't the 'war' over last year? Didn't Bush say then that we had won against the terrorists and were going to work on reconstruction? Oh, right. There's that insurgence thing going on. Why is he telling us we're winning when people still can't live in the major cities because of the daily skirmishes and car bombs? Where are those construction companies and engineers we are supposed to be seeing working peacefully with the Iraqis to rebuild their homes and workplaces? What ever happened to CNN,NBC,MSNBC, etc sending journalists over and giving us live updates on the situation? If the war is ongoing, shouldn't the public be informed of what's going on from the source of the action and not from a newsroom thousands of miles away?

But the public should focus on other issues, like the much-debated peak in oil production and the threat from Muslim Terrorists(tm). After all, we've always been at war with Iraq, we never were looking for WMDs anyway so of course there weren't any to find, and the reconstruction? They had an election, that's one step toward democracy!

You know, Star Wars seems like a pretty damn relevant political commentary right now, what with the panic about the war and the government (the Senate in SW) taking on more and more power... *blink* The second Trilogy hits pretty close to home as far as reflecting the general state of politics here, and that's scary too. I really don't like the idea of G.W. being a Sith Lord.

I feel better now...

I've cleaned up the kitchen a bit and it looks minimally better than it did. Even minimal is a good improvement, though. If I wasn't worried about annoying the neighbors I'd vacuum as well, because the living room needs it. Hm... At any rate, I have 4 hours to fill and I might as well make good use of it. This apartment needs a maid (and maybe I can leave a sarcastic note to the guys asking for payment for a few hours' cleaning service). ^_^

Cleaning is fulfilling. It makes me feel useful and busy and saves my brain from 8 hours a day of staring at computer monitors and TV screens. I think I would have made a very good housewife a few decades ago, if I had the sense to learn how to cook...

Mm...

Excuse the sap to follow. I had to babble at someone :-p

I've got a country love song stuck in my head again... "When I Think About Angels" by Jamie O'Neal. The lyrics go (in part):
"The taste of sugar sure reminds me of your kiss,
I like the way that they both linger on my lips.
Kisses remind me of a field of butterflies;
must be the way my heart is fluttering inside.
Beautiful distraction, you make every thought a chain reaction.
When I think about rain, I think about singin'.
When I think about singin' it's a heavenly tune.
When I think about heaven then I think about angels;
When I think about angels, I think about you..."

Anyway. It was raining this morning and I woke up warm and happy and right where I wanted to be: in a little apartment outside of Pittsburgh; my boyfriend's apartment. It might be messy (what do you expect when you put three geeky college guys together in a small area?) but it's his and that makes me happy. His two roommates (one of whom shares this large bedroom with him) are gone for the weekend, and he's off to work for the day so I'm here all by myself till he gets back. I don't mind it though... there's more than enough to keep me entertained (looking out the windows, reading, TV, PS2, N64, movies, internet, the cross-stitch I brought with me, and if all else fails, cleaning ;p) until he gets back at 8:30 or so.

In other news, I saw Episode III last weekend. Yes, that's geeky. No, I still don't label myself a geek. It was better than I or II, but as far as comparing it to the first (chronologically speaking) trilogy... I haven't seen IV, V or VI since I was little and I don't remember them. At any rate, just to take up space...
Movie Review: Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of The Sith.
Starring: Hayden Christiensen as Anakin Skywalker, Ewan McGregor as Obi-Wan Kenobi, Natalie Portman as Padmé... and many more. There are a lot of big names in this movie. Personally, aside from the fact that they drew a big, new audience to the movies these past few years, I didn't see a reason to drop all of these superstars into one movie together. Maybe that's just me.

Is it sad that I still don't have a lightsabre? After all the dramatic shots of the famous blue, green and red blades swinging through various aliens, Jedi and Sith Lords in Episode III, I've had enough lightsabre dueling to last me a few weeks at least. A comment from the peanut gallery: "They really don't like right arms, do they?" I'd have to say no, Bob, they don't like them at all. There seems to be a lot of limb-severing going on in the second Star Wars trilogy and III tops its predecessors by a long shot. George Lucas must have a cauterization fetish... all these lightsabre deaths and not a drop of stage blood in sight. Hey, whatever keeps it PG-13, eh?

The plot of this one was a little darker than the previous two, as the title probably warned us if we were paying attention. I can't complain about realism, since Sci-fi movies tend to be a little less... "real" than most, but I did note that in
one scene Anakin's right arm (which was replaced with a robotic one previously and isn't often seen) was cut off a little lower than it had been shown when the cut was made. Hmm... well, I'm not yelling. The graphics/effects people had their hands full with this one already. Oh, and Yoda kicks serious arse for a 3" tall, 900 year old... whatever he is. Speak well and wisely, Yoda does, and the Force is with him.

This movie wraps up the package of six very well, giving us more insight into Luke and Leia's father, the reason they were separated and the answers to questions that have probably haunted past generations of Star Wars fans (I know they bothered me a little ;p): What's with Vader's outfit? What happened to Anakin that made him turn to the Dark Side? And last, but certainly not least: has George finally lost it? (I think so, but at least he makes cool movies.) The boi claims we knew all that before. I stuck my tongue out at him. I think if there were any loose ends to be tied up it would be with the minor characters who caught our attention for fifteen minutes and then wandered off into space and weren't seen again. Chewbacca needs more attention. Yeah, yeah, the boi says, he gets lots of attention in the other movies... well, like I said I haven't seen the first trilogy in forever.

After the movie I went to Burger King, where they're releasing five new toys a week with their Kids' Meals. I got a little stuffed Chewy, the boi got a little wind-up Yoda who actually flips over backwards. rox0r.
[/geek]

I agree.

Kines posted a wonderful rant recently. Read it, because it's better written than what I could do and it expresses my feelings on the subject rather well. Thank you, Kines.

Walking

I walked to the Lily Dale Assembly Office today to drop off a payment for the assessment. It was a nice walk, since today is just warm enough to be comfortable in a tshirt and the wind off the lake was just cool enough to make me glad for the sweatshirt I was wearing. A few interesting things happened along the way, including my being whistled at by some young men who were doing a paving job on someone's driveway. I don't know why anyone would whistle at me. Would you whistle at a tall, thin brunette wearing glasses and a baggy sweatshirt? I will never understand males, especially hormonal adolescent males. As far as I can guess, this one either whistled at me because he was truly impressed by my scrawny (lack of) sex appeal, or because he thought it was funny to 'tease' the poor stick figure. I'm going with option number two, because a few seconds after he whistled, he yelled "Shake that a$$!" and as everybody knows, I have no arse to shake. I'm totally without any shakeability and this has been proven. Soo... I have no choice but to conclude, once again, that boys will be boys (and therefore act in ungentlemanly ways) and there's nothing we ladies can do about it.

As I was walking today I never kept my eyes on the road right in front of me. There was no need - I was moving slowly, there were no other pedestrians along the way, there was no sidewalk to keep my feet on and no signs directed at people walking with the exception of the "Posted" signs on various trees. It was a quiet walk, and there was a lot going on around me that took my attention away from the road in all its bland emptiness. The speedwell, dandelions, chamomile, daisies, strawberries, ivy and forget-me-nots are all blooming, sometimes making fantastic carpets out of people's lawns, and I found a white flower I don't know, growing quietly at a single spot on the shore. The lakes (there are three small ones, connected in something of a 'U' shape) were beautifully blue and a little wind pushed wavelets up onto the shore. The sound was wonderfully calming. On the way back, just outside the Lily Dale gates, I startled a deer a few feet away in the woods - I hadn't seen it until it went crashing away into the undergrowth. I stood and watched it go; I don't think the two drivers who passed me just then saw anything at all.

That's a problem with driving. When you drive, you are going from point A to point B on a predirected course which can't be changed too much because most vehicles aren't any good in nature - they only work in "civilized" areas with gas stations and roads. Even bicyclists these days have to be aware of the road, and they lose out on some of the scenery. It's tough to stop a car to watch a butterfly, or to bend over from a bike seat to look at a wildflower as you pass it. And it's tough to think, too. Drivers ought to have their minds on the road, and not on the weather or what's for dinner or, God forbid, something deep or spiritual. Walking gives us a chance to use the legs we were given for their original purpose -moving us from place to place- and it lets us think at the same time. We don't miss out on the world as it rushes by our windows and fades away. We experience it and are part of it and if we like we can sit down to watch the water flow under a bridge, or look up to watch the wind in the trees. It's nature, it's beautiful and imperfect and awe-inspiring; it's our world and we need to pay more attention to it than just letting it pass by as we move encapsulated in our SUVs and little sports cars. That could have been an organized rant if I edited more. I just wanted the thought there, so maybe I can rant later.

Penguins

It's been a long week. Not so bad at the beginning, because I got to sleep in. But suddenly I'm finding myself very, very tired.

I got to relax all the way to Wednesday, oh joy... and then Wednesday afternoon and evening, and all of Thursday and some of Friday were spent at Dad's house. That meant a lot of work, including cleaning up the house a bit, helping with the porch roof at the cottage, and other such things. I even made a BIG pan of lasagna last night (and yes, I'm sure that's spelled wrong... it's midight, I'm tired). It was pretty good, considering that was a first for me. I almost feel proud of my minimal cooking skills. Maybe I should get some recipes together so I can cook when I get back to college. And maybe I should actually get myself together and make those cherry pies I said I was going to.

Tonight I went to a concert. My friend's mother and sister are both members of a celtic trio called Johnny-In-A-Box. They're not Nickel Creek status (or skill level) yet but they're pretty darn good for a family affair. I enjoyed the music, and the company (thanks, Steph) and overall had a fun evening there. After the band, a local improv group came up (late, but that didn't matter, as more music was just as good as more laughs, in my opinion). They did a few games, got a lot of audience participation and left me laughing pretty hard at some points. Penguins are going to be a funny thing for a while now.

Sister and another friend of mine went to a concert a few blocks from my little artsy cafe - a punk rock show. Lots of local bands, music so loud I'm surpised the glass wasn't shaking in the windows. I would have gone in to find them after I left the cafe, but I wasn't up to wading through 30 punks to find the two I wanted to see, and the ones outside gave me odd looks as I walked by, since a wrap skirt and sandals just don't fit that 'scene' very well. I decided to sit in the car where I'd be safe from both an impending headache and the attention of several bored punks. Tired girl + excited people = no fun.

I'm Home...

And the computer's working, and (obviously) I can get online. Going shopping with mom this afternoon, just for an excuse not to unpack.

Birds of Sadness, Pandora's Box and Hope - and Why Blackberry Kisses Are The Best Kind of All.

I've just finished reading "Walk Two Moons." I don't know why today I decided to read a children's book that I've owned since I was in elementary school. As far as I can recall, I never read it. But it's a Newbery Medal winner and it's by Sharon Creech - a fantastic author of young adult literature. I'm glad I picked it up. The story grabbed me in ways I don't think it would have if I were younger, maybe because I'm in the middle. I can identify with the children in the tale as much as the adults. I know a part of everybody and it makes the story that much stronger for me. If you have not read it, I advise you to find a copy - or I'll send you mine, as it's a registered BookCrossing book and I've been planning a Release for it since Easter.

It's a sad book. "You can't keep the birds of sadness from flying over your head, but you can keep them from nesting in your hair." Someone's mother runs away. Someone else's mother is never coming back. There are bittersweet memories about home and family. There is a little tangent about Pandora's box, and how Pandora, being curious, opened it and let out all the bad things into the world - and there was Hope at the bottom of the box. It's a tough book to explain without reading it, but the part that caught in my consciousness the most involved blackberry kisses. They're kisses that, for Salamanca, taste like blackberry - because that's what her mother had just put in her mouth before she kissed the tree.

See, Salamanca's mother loved trees. I can't paraphrase the story, so here it is:
"As she approached the corner of the barn where the sugar maple stands, she plucked a few blackberries from a stray bush and popped them into her mouth. She looked all around her - back at the house, across the fields, and up into the canopy of branches overhead. She took several quick steps up to the trunk of the maple, threw her arms around it, and kissed that tree soundly.
Later that day, I examined this tree trunk. I tried to wrap my arms about it, but the trunk was much bigger than it had seemed from my window. I looked up at where her mouth must have touched the trunk. I probably imagined this, but I thought I could detect a small dark stain, as from a blackberry kiss.
I put my ear against the trunk fo the tree and listened. I faced that tree squarely and kissed it firmly. To this day, I can smell the smell of the bark - a sweet, woody smell - and feel the ridges in the bark, and taste that distinctive taste on my lips."

The kiss tasted like blackberry, of course. Later Sal falls in love - though she doesn't use that word. She simply shares a blackberry kiss with the boy. I think that the blackberry kisses are Sal's expression of love; the taste of blackberries is a reminder of her mother, who she loved, and later she connects it to the boy she also falls in love with. The idea seems romantic and slightly abstract - I can't capture it here. I guess what I wanted to say is that everyone has a kind of Blackberry Kiss. They're the little actions or phrases or expressions that capture love for us, immediately recognizeable and perfectly unique. They're a thing two people share, even if they take it for granted or don't always notice it. They're little things - smiles and tiny presents and the way she brushes his hair out of his eyes. Blackberry Kisses take a second to happen, but they take a lifetime to forget. And maybe, like wild blackberries, they can be bittersweet.

Poly Ticks

This post is pretty late, so I assume everyone's heard the news regarding ANWR.

Quote:
"An attempt to require automakers to increase fuel economy to a fleet average of 33 miles per gallon over the next decade was defeated 254-177.

Rep. Sherwood Boehlert, R-New York, a co-sponsor of the auto fuel economy proposal, said it would have reduced oil use by 2 million barrels a day -- more than could be taken from ANWR -- by 2020. He described as "a bunch of nonsense" claims by opponents that the increased fuel economy would cost the auto industry jobs, force consumers to buy smaller cars and reduce automobile safety."

Hooray for them quoting a Republican as being FOR the defeated fuel economy proposal... that goes against stereotype. But the fact that increasing fuel economy is not considered important enough to pass is ironic. After all, isn't the whole point of drilling in ANWR to reduce our dependence on foreign oil? Oh, but of course - we're only seeking to increase dependence on our own oil. I almost thought that someone had come up with a sensible idea and wanted to reduce America's dependence on a non-renewable, heavily polluting energy source.

This protest of the bill seemed like a good idea at the time. Sign it and pass it on, if you like.

I suppose if I really do become a teacher I'll at least be able to identify with the kids...

I randomly turned on the television today, just to see if I could find anything of interest. The university supplies cable TV with 30-40 channels including Discovery, Sci-Fi, MTV, CNN, NBC, ABC, FOX, ESPN, TBS, TLC... you get the picture. After half an hour of flipping through every channel six times over, the only thing that caught my eye was...

Arthur. Yep, that's right. The PBS kids' show that I've been watching since I can remember. CNN was harping on the Pope's latest bowel movements, or something similar; Discovery was doing something History-channel like with lots of interview segments and no explanation whatsoever. So I turned to something that will never go bad: PBS, with its daily dose of moral, sensible, educational shows like Arthur, ZOOM and Reading Rainbow (Yay!).

I know I should be putting the finishing touches on my thesis paper but I'm more interested in everything else there is to do... like stare out the window, take a nap and maybe read something.

Someone save the children...

...from me.

I want to stomp and scream and throw things and slam doors.

This is the THIRD time I've forgotten to go to my Monday night KidsRead tutoring sessions. Tonight was the last night, and it was the picnic, which I wanted to go to - no, which I said I'd go to. I am also dangerously close to not having enough service hours right now. I love volunteering, and I'm not doing it only for the hours, but the fact remains that HC scholarship recipients have to do a certain amount of community service hours each semester. And I was too busy to volunteer last semester. Thank gods for long TOST tech nights... and I CAN NOT say I was that busy that I couldn't set aside three hours today. I was just that forgetful.

I made a basket - a fucking HANDMADE basket - (with candy in it!) for the little boy I worked with. I spent time on it, I was proud of it. I wanted to hand it to him and thank him for being such a good student. He would have smiled at me and maybe taken a piece of candy out and put it in his mouth and gone to show his parents the little gift and I would have felt pleased that I'd done something right.

This morning at 9:30 I reminded myself that it was Monday. I put the basket on my dresser, where it was at eye level and I surely wouldn't forget it! This morning I looked at the basket, moved the basket closer to my LOTR calendar and thought: "I'm going to the picnic tonight!"

This evening at 9:50 I looked at my computer clock, looked at my calendar, and nearly went looking for a large, durable surface to dent my skull upon.

I swear to Japan and back I'm going to be the world's worst teacher. I'll forget that it's Monday and I have a class, and I'll wander off and realize three hours later that my kindergarteners are stabbing each other with playground wood chips, as I walk innocently past the school.

I frustrate myself so much sometimes I think if I were another person, myself would kill me.

I wanted to write a long, thoughtful entry tonight, with a lot of important-looking links to various things concerning one of the few topics I've had on my mind of late. But I have laundry to do and a thesis paper to continue revising, and I'm angry at myself again. Thought can wait.

Aahhh...

...choo.

*sniffle* I believe I've gotten some sort of cold.

When I realized it was sneaking up on me last night I made and drank enough tea to sink a small boat, and took a vitamin and went to bed. I'm a firm believer in the power of tea to fix everything ice cream doesn't (and a few things it does).

Maybe it was the wrong kind of tea. Despite getting only nine hours of sleep my body refuses to let me crawl back into bed and stay there. "You slept in 3 hours already!" says my self to me, and I say "Self, you're sick. You need sleep, just go back to bed."

Maybe I'll find something to eat and make myself some more tea. Armed with tea and a good book and the Kleenex, I can get through a cold well enough. The thesis rewrite can wait until my head stops feeling like a sodden cottonball (heavy and fuzzy at the edges).

...For I Have Sinned

I have a confession to make.

A terrible, horrible confession. You'll probably want to run away screaming when you read it.

I mean it. It's that bad. Those with weak stomachs should immediately stop reading.

...I said stop. Now.

But since you're still here, I might as well get this over with...

...are you sure you want to hear it?

Okay.

I spent half my week's laundry money on another plant at the Earth Day celebration.

There, it's out. Now you all know what a horrible person I am. Go on, throw dirt. I know you want to.

It's an Angel Wing Begonia (and yes, I think it's the 'crackling rose' variety) and it just jumped up and down and yelled my name when I walked by it... in a plant-like, rustling in the breeze kind of way. I'm excited; this is another bit of green to add to my miniature jungle. ^_^

Two weeks till I get out of here, about two months till camp starts. Three months till one year with Rick. Slightly over four months until I'm back here again. o.o ..eep? A year till I head for Mexico. Three years to graduation, if I finish on time. Lots to look forward to... and lots to get ready for. Life moves too fast at times.

Oh yeah... and this.
Discuss? (I might do another entry on it, if I ever get around to it).

Yes, well.

--This is a really self-centered entry. It's probably not worth your time.--

It's been a relatively productive day, as far as most of my days go, but I don't really feel as though I've done much. I just went about my tasks this morning, got everything done by 4:30, even with a long break to read blogs, and went to sleep until just before the evening's excitement began. TOST meeting, a foreign film, and home to write my critique so I can turn it in tomorrow... right? No. I hadn't talked to Rick all day - he was 'online' but not there, and didn't reply to me on msn. When I walked in I sat down to start typing and Rick signed on, and then the phone rang - it was Dad/Jamie. I chatted with Jamie a little bit. She made Seuss meow into the phone for me,and then she hung up to call VQ. I don't know why, but hearing that cat made me cry... I guess I'm homesick still. When I got off the phone Ellisa was online, and we talked but I wanted to do my homework so I told her I was going. Rick talked, too... but not long. He hasn't had time to chat for long periods of time lately, being at Jane's and all. I'm glad that he's enjoying his break but at the same time there's some part of me that's being very clingy and wants him to drop everything and come back here.

He's coming on Tuesday. I should be glad that I get the day off and have the whole day to spend with him and won't have to worry about homework or classes or anything really terribly important... And I am. I'm incredibly grateful that it worked out this way. I just wish Tuesday would get here faster. And that my article for the Penn would write itself, along with the fine arts critique I'm now putting off. I can't find anything to say about the film. I guess it was good, but I just don't have much of an opinion on it, and I didn't take notes, and I don't care. It's just a film. I saw it, I picked up on a line they censored, I noticed that it actually had a plot.

The people next door in Mara's room are loud, again. Cheryl's over there - I just heard her laugh. She has a really unique laugh. Really deep, really loud, really annoying at 11pm. Damn them all. They're laughing over something, talking loudly, ignoring the fact that it's 11 on a Sunday and they might just have neighbors who are actually working or trying to sleep. Of course, they wouldn't think. 'Considerate' is not a word most people remember these days, unless they want someone else to remember it for them. I wonder if banging on the wall will help.

It's almost funny. I'm not tired, really, because I slept for twelve hours last night plus two this afternoon and only left my room a few times. It's not as though I've had an exhausting day, even though Saturday sucked a lot of energy. I'm just in a bad mood from missing family and friends and wanting school to end already and knowing how much more work I have to do before things will be over and knowing I can't reach out for anyone right now, because who would listen, and what would I say anyway?

Too far?

I have the urge to use this blog like a journal today - personal, private and meant only for my eyes, maybe for Rick's. Of course that's not a good idea, but I'm less put off by the fact that it would be opening myself up than I am by the fact that I'd probably offend someone and bring down some consequences I don't want to deal with.

I don't mind telling people about myself. It's funny. Jane has called me mysterious, which implies that I don't give away much information... and yet I will gladly sit down with someone I hardly know and play Truth until they've found out my "deepest" or "darkest" secrets. There are few things I am unwilling to tell a friend; there are few secrets I keep to myself. I've found that openness and honesty tend to drive away false friends and draw true ones closer. I'm sure I go too far sometimes, though.

So I question: How far is too far? How open, honest, or blunt can I be before I demolish everyone's ideas of tact and privacy? I know how to use tact and when to be quiet, I won't open myself needlessly most of the time. But when I do, nobody tells me when to shut up. I know that my friends don't want to hear all the inane details of my weekends with Rick, however wonderful they might be to me. I know that some of my imaginings are better left unsaid and that some comments might have too strong a bite. But I still love walking the line and sometimes I jump (or fall) over it.

I respect others' need for privacy, and I understand the necesity of keeping some parts of yourself hidden - I do not think anyone knows everything about me, as open as I may be. And incredibly enough, I'm a shy person in most situations. But some part of me just wants to open up and yell things at the world.

Is it a terrible thing to delight in raw, unfiltered truth (or opinion) as far as one can do so? Tact is fun on occasion, and useful in social situations, I know this. But bare truth can be much more powerful. And as long as I speak plainly, I know everyone understands. If only politicians would be so direct.

I have...

...a spider in a jar. This is presumably the same little beast who so surprised me a few days ago. She (I assume her gender) is a little golden-brown thing a little bigger than my thumbnail, legs and all. She's very active, crawling 'round and 'round the jar with its little notebook on top. I've been watching her, curiously enough. I plan to take her outside in a little while, but I want to know what kind she is first. No sense in letting a learning opportunity go to waste, even if it's the creature I fear most.

Well, I fear them when they're loose, at least. Having one captive isn't quite so bad. She might be spinning a web there in the jar... It's amazing what the little things can do. She doesn't appear to be of the poisonous variety, as far as I can tell. There's been no pictures or description matching what she looks like online. As a matter of fact, I can't connect this little one to any family of spider on the websites I've checked.

Anyone know anything about spiders? She's about 1/2" long (as best I can measure through a jar) with a slender light white/yellow abdomen and a slightly darker thorax. There are no clear markings on her abdomen from what I've been able to observe. Her legs are thin and hairless, with dark brown tips. I think she's a web-spinner and not a hunter because she looks like she's building a web in the jar. Now that I can't figure out what she is I'm even more curious. I know she's not a wolf spider, an orb-weaver or any of the better-known poisonous types. So far her closest cousins seem to be funnel-weavers, though why one of those would be in my room is beyond me, I've never seen them indoors before. I think her eyes are arranged in a row of four on the top of her head and another row/group lower down. Bah. I'm interested but I don't dare get a closer and clearer look by actually opening the jar.

I'm neglecting my homework and don't really mind. Yet again, there are more interesting things to do and more excuses to put off what should have been started hours ago. I do a silly thing when I'm avoiding a big project: I take on several little ones and work on all of those. On Thesis Week, I manage to clean my room, wash my dishes, do my laundry (folded and put away nicely!) and do myriad other things both domestic and insane before I touch the keyboard with thoughts of working on the original project.

And when the deadline looms like a tsunami, I work. I think I work well under pressure, because so far I’ve gotten A’s on my thesis papers.

Blogger died as I was trying to post this, so I went down to let Goldilocks out. When I went down to let her out I discovered that her kin are regulars here, they are indeed not poisonous, and nobody quite knows what they are, but they like the bathrooms because it's warmer in there. Makes sense... I think I saw one in the shower once.