Well, I actually wrote a huge blog last week (Thursday, I think) on the notepad of my dad's desktop. But, of course, as I was about to copy it and go online to post it, the computer froze and ate the whole damn thing. I hadn't saved it (duh) because I was only running frickin' wordpad, and nothing should have crashed it. Argh.
Anyway, to sum up - withdrew from school, did a bunch of stuff, handed Earth over to its new leaders, threw a goodbye party, went home. Monday we talked to the lady from hospice, which was depressing. Tuesday my mom called at 9:45 to wake me up and tell me to turn on the TV, the WTC and the Pentagon were on fire from plane crashes. I watched both towers fall. We watched the news all day - that was even more depressing than Monday. The rest of the week we spent a lot of time watching TV and such, but got back to normal pretty quickly. The social worker came over - Thursday? I think? And that was somewhat depressing too (again, from hospice). I know we have to do this stuff, and it'll help us later, but right now we'd just prefer not to think about what's to come, and go on about our daily lives. I'm pretty good at doing that, I think. My mom's having a rougher time, and of course my dad thinks about it the most. He's having trouble sleeping, and is taking off from work a lot.
Joanne stopped by Sunday with Debbie's homemade chocolate chip cookies (nummy), before she went back to Chapel Hill. We talked about all sorts of stuff (well, she did most of the talking. ;) I don't think I've seen her since she left for Germany... I don't think. Hm. Anyway. Her mom's card came yesterday, it was sweet.
I've been unpacking for the past week or so, getting ready for Bob to come visit (he's in Atlanta now, apparently he didn't have a lot of problems getting in from Saudi Arabia). He'll stay over this weekend. Saturday my sisters are getting me drunk (I turn 21 Saturday night at midnight). Sunday we're seeing a play at the Blumenthal - The Foreigner. Good comic relief. Then we're all going to Bistro East, Kamel's new endeavor, Sunday night for dinner. Tuesday my parents are going to Duke to look for miracles... this past Tuesday the whole gang met at the Mellow Mushroom, across the street from Caron's house. It's a pizzeria/bar place that my parents happened to go to one Tuesday, and they found it was Trivia night. They've played 3 times and loved it - so the 3 of us, Fred and Sheila Dombrose with their eldest, Lisa, Sheri, Doug, and eventually Carol Ann, all converged on an outside patio table. We had (very good) pizza, and everyone else drank one of their 70 beers on tap. After an hour or so, we realized they should have started trivia 1/2 hour ago, and the waitress said that trivia night stopped 2 weeks ago, and won't start again until Spring. Everyone was disappointed. We decided to make our own trivia night next time. Sheri offered to bring her 'Sex edition' of Trivial Pursuit.
Ayako got back from South Africa okay, thank god. Apparently she was frisked quite a few times, and all of her luggage was thoroughly searched. Other people had their scissors confiscated. Caron's been listening to every patriotic song she can find and making more ethnic slurs than usual (that's my girl...) My mom hung her little stuffed lady holding an American flag on our front door, since we can't figure out how to set up our flagpole on plastic columns.
I'm not really in the mood to be posting, so I'll sign off... I'll have to remember to put up that e-mail that basically says Afghanistan is already miserable due to the Taliban, and we can't do anything to them that the Taliban hasn't already done, besides maybe killing more of their widows and disabled orphans. I'm not saying no action is necessary, but I think bombing is stupid. I think cutting off supply lines to the people of Afghanistan is stupid. (By stupid I mean unnecessary, inefficient and cruel.) I think we need to use guerilla warfare and cut down the members of the Taliban one at a time, and get them the fuck out of there. Everyone knows what's been going on there for the last few years, but no one's either had the balls or the charity to take the Taliban out of power.
Anyway... I hope Bush realizes that although the country is asking for action, everyone wants the correct type of action. It's all well and good to say these blanket 'We're gonna kick your ass!' statements, and rally the country behind you and feel all popular, but when it's all over, your actions will be scrutinized. If you destroy Afghanistan, you're not erasing the problem. All you're doing is ruining a country we should be helping out, and allowing the rich, powerful, connected villains who took over it to escape.
My other fear is that it could very well escalate into nuclear or biological warfare. I just hope he's careful.
Thursday, September 20, 2001
Tuesday, September 04, 2001
Well, it has been a while since I've posted, hasn't it. I wonder if I appeared on fucked weblog - probably not enough readers to notice that I'm gone.
A lot has happened in the last three weeks. I left my job unfinished, packed up my Berkeley apartment and went back home to Charlotte. We have a nice new house, small but with lots of good touches. A townhouse, so our patios are shoulder-to-shoulder, and we have no yard to speak of. It was strange taking a different exit off the highway to go home, though. Ah well.
We celebrated my dad's birthday, #54. He got a hand-drawn portrait of our old house, since he liked it so much. Not bad - the angle was kind of weird, but not too bad at all. I brought home sourdough, pistachios, artichokes and avacados. I talked with Sarah D, who has either already or will soon depart for a month in San Francisco, to work in the Prodigal project mission in haight ashbury. Her mother is frantic - Sarah is 18. Her fiancee is 19, and they're both born again Christians who think that God will take care of them. Ah, youth. I told her the horror stories about getting shot with a pellet gun, proposed to by a 70-year old Arabic man, and the random guys trying to get my number or (shudder) give me a ride in their car. She seems sensible enough, just really ignorant from having lived in the suburbs of charlotte all her life.
I packed up all my stuff, we crammed it in a minivan and spent a night at Uncle Bruce's. Laura was supposed to move in that day, and she called me just before midnight to tell me that the house is trashed and the doors are unlocked, with no keys anywhere. Ayako, Laura, and I all discuss it, and I leave a very angry message with our property manager (aka asshole slumlord). After much calling back and forth, they send over 3 guys and a utility truck, and clean the place out over four hours. Mom, Dad and I run around grabbing all the nifty stuff that was left behind (a printer?? a stereo with 3 foot speakers and a turntable, a TV...) and get all my boxes moved in. The cleaning lady comes through and washes the tubs and removes the rotting food from the fridge (we love you cleaning lady), and the house is livable.
I went to my first week of classes - dropped 2 without going, decided to audit the environmental art class. Irish history looked really interesting, and studio looked really cool - I was going to research cargo bikes so I could pick up groceries. I found a bunch of crazy bastards - I can't remember the URL, go to http://www.666inromannumerals.org/chunk/ - it's like dlcmvia or something. They make fucked up bikes. wonderful stuff.
Earth had nearly 30 people show up, we had O pizza, it all looked good. a lot of energy. I spent 150 bucks on books (not bad for 11), English looked like fun. We read a short story about two married people having an affair and falling in love. That night I dreamt my mother was cheating on my dad with some 17 year old grocery boy. I was really, really pissed - not so much that she was cheating on him, more that he was 17. I knew it wasn't fair, but I was a real bitch to both of them. I woke up feeling unsettled and embarassed.
Thursday night I got a weird e-mail from my sister Sarah. We'd been chatting lightly back and forth earlier in the week - on the phone, then funny e-mail forwards. I thought I wouldn't hear from her for a while, but she emails me and says, "How are you doing? If you ever need to talk to someone who's not mom or dad, I'm here for you, okay? Call me any time at (phone numbers). Love Sarah."
I worry about this for a few minutes, wondering what the bad news is. Amanda says, "ask her." So I write back, "Uh, is there something I should know about? Did Dad's catscan not go well?" Dad's trip to the oncologist (sp) the week before wasn't so good, he said a bloodtest went the wrong way for a tumor marker, and they moved the catscan up a few weeks. I immediately think of this.
Sarah rights back, "No, just preparing for the worst. You know." I think it's pretty lame, but I decide to accept it at face value and not worry myself.
Then we get to Friday. I was going to go to campus relatively early so that Earth people could put up the hiking trip fliers for next Sunday. It was about 11 o'clock ( I woke up late), and my dad called. Mom wasn't on the phone with him, like she usually is. This usually means bad news. He said in a sad, strained voice, "Do you have time to talk? I have to tell you about something." Uh oh. He calls back on my recently-hooked up home phone (my cell phone only works in the front yard, damn Sprint's lousy coverage).
"You remember that bloodtest I told you about, that it came back positive for a tumor? Well, they did the catscan, and that spot that they had found on my liver before that they said wasn't cancer - well, it's grown since the last checkup. So, my cancer has spread. They could do operations, but it's probably spread all over my body. They can't do anything. The doctors have given me about six more months."
Here's where I start crying.
"They said I'll have three good months, and then it'll start to affect me, and then I'll have a few more months until.... And there's not really anything they can do. There's some treatment, like pills or chemo, but it'll just maybe add a month or so, and it'll make me feel bad the whole time. I'm going to keep working for a while, to keep up medical insurance, and I have 7 weeks vacation, so I can take off whenever I want to. We'll go on trips and stuff, and I wanted to go to the beach again, near Charleston. I always liked it there, I really enjoy walking on the beach." I remember that he had mentioned this earlier, and my mom chided him, saying that he just wanted it to be like it was before, when all of us were kids. I tightened up even more on the floor and cried harder.
We talked more, about financial things, and possible alternative treatments. I had meant holistic or natural medicine, all the new age stuff I've been hearing about. He thought I meant research hospitals. He'll consider the research stuff but again, thinks it will only worsen his quality of life. I decide to bring up the other stuff later, maybe subtly.
He says I have to talk to my teachers, and decide what I want to do. I say, "I think.... I think I'd rather come home." I know that there's not even a question about it, but I can tell he doesn't want me to. He's proud of what I do up here, and he puts a lot (a little too much) of importance on education. I remember what Ayako said about how she regretted spending three years away from her cat, who she loved like a sister. Her cat died of kidney failure at only 9 years old. She said she was so glad that she was able to see her cat, and say goodbye, but she still wishes she had spent time with them, instead of going to college. I remember the week I took off for my grandfather's funeral freshman year. It made my life hell, but I never regretted it... And I knew I had to come home. My dad says, "I was afraid you'd say that. Well, consider it, and ask your advisor.." etc. etc.
After I get off the phone, I start weeping in earnest, balled up on the floor, mouth open in a silent wail. I stumble around in shock and fall on the couch, cry some more. Think. Think about how much I'll miss him. About how his life is kind of sad, how he worked so hard for so long, and he'll never get to retire. About how lonely mom will be. About the pain he's going to go through. And he's not afraid of that, that's not what he's worried about. He just doesn't want it to negatively affect our lives. He wishes he could protect us from it, that's why he doesn't want me to come home. He doesn't want to be a bother to us.
Dad, you silly thing. There's not really a choice about it.
Later that day, mom and dad call back and tell me that they're supportive of me wanting to come home. My dad realizes it would be better all around, that I wouldn't be happy at school. I'd be useless, really. Leaving all the time to visit, not being able to concentrate, etc. Personally, I know he misses me, and he'd be happy to have me home. And I just have to be there. There's no way I can't be home with him, and spend what time I can with him. No way. I went on campus and filled out the withdrawal form later that day. Did a lot of emailing.
I spend that weekend packing, getting things together, making plans. I'm to leave a week later, Saturday the 8th. I get Earth stuff figured out, try to find a new president or new leaders, at least. Ayako and Laura are wonderful. We bake peanut butter cookies and make pancakes and watch movies together. We fight with our landlord about phone lines, and I ask him questions about the lease and subletting. I decide to leave my furniture in the house.
This would have been my senior year, so all of my friends are graduating. I'm really going to miss everyone in Studio - I love this group so much. They're all wonderful. I'd love to have seen what projects they did, and where they go - I'll try to come back for graduation, but I don't know if I will be able to. The doctors say six months - who knows? Anyway, I decide to throw a good-bye party Friday night at my casa. I let everyone know why I'm leaving - he's been fighting it since March. We won some battles, but we've lost the war. Short, to the point.
A few days later, the emails come streaming in. Support, offers of help and sympathy. "If there's anything I can do..." Scheduling getting together with friends who can't make it to the party, or who want to hang out seperately.
My advisor is fantastic. She sends me an email on Tuesday asking if I'm okay, apologizing for not being more touchy-feely on Friday. I tell her it's okay, I'm not touchy-feely either. I met with Harriet today, talked about my summer internship and how well it went, what I hope to do in the future. What I should do on my break. I'm thinking of taking classes or working, if nothing else than to keep myself busy. When I come back, I want to graduate in a semester, save some money. Mom has almost a million dollars to support her, but she's only 53, and the women in her family live a long time. She'll probably have to work more than she does now. I'm hoping Sarah will be able to send her on some cruises. If I get a good paying job, I'll either pay her back or buy her expensive presents like furniture. I always felt bad about taking all that money for my education.
Anyway. I've got another Earth meeting in 15 minutes. I should probably be on time for this one. I'll let the group know what's going on, and we'll try to figure out who's taking over. Ayako and Aria, Matt, maybe some other girls who were in Earth all last year. It's a shame I won't be able to be president, we were going to have a really good year, I think.
We're lucky in that respect, though. Other than the cancer, we really have nothing to worry about. I can take off from school easily. My sisters live nearby. We have enough money. My parents have really good friends to take care of them in NC, I have most of mine up here but I have some in Charlotte, too.
I'll be posting a lot more than expected now.
A lot has happened in the last three weeks. I left my job unfinished, packed up my Berkeley apartment and went back home to Charlotte. We have a nice new house, small but with lots of good touches. A townhouse, so our patios are shoulder-to-shoulder, and we have no yard to speak of. It was strange taking a different exit off the highway to go home, though. Ah well.
We celebrated my dad's birthday, #54. He got a hand-drawn portrait of our old house, since he liked it so much. Not bad - the angle was kind of weird, but not too bad at all. I brought home sourdough, pistachios, artichokes and avacados. I talked with Sarah D, who has either already or will soon depart for a month in San Francisco, to work in the Prodigal project mission in haight ashbury. Her mother is frantic - Sarah is 18. Her fiancee is 19, and they're both born again Christians who think that God will take care of them. Ah, youth. I told her the horror stories about getting shot with a pellet gun, proposed to by a 70-year old Arabic man, and the random guys trying to get my number or (shudder) give me a ride in their car. She seems sensible enough, just really ignorant from having lived in the suburbs of charlotte all her life.
I packed up all my stuff, we crammed it in a minivan and spent a night at Uncle Bruce's. Laura was supposed to move in that day, and she called me just before midnight to tell me that the house is trashed and the doors are unlocked, with no keys anywhere. Ayako, Laura, and I all discuss it, and I leave a very angry message with our property manager (aka asshole slumlord). After much calling back and forth, they send over 3 guys and a utility truck, and clean the place out over four hours. Mom, Dad and I run around grabbing all the nifty stuff that was left behind (a printer?? a stereo with 3 foot speakers and a turntable, a TV...) and get all my boxes moved in. The cleaning lady comes through and washes the tubs and removes the rotting food from the fridge (we love you cleaning lady), and the house is livable.
I went to my first week of classes - dropped 2 without going, decided to audit the environmental art class. Irish history looked really interesting, and studio looked really cool - I was going to research cargo bikes so I could pick up groceries. I found a bunch of crazy bastards - I can't remember the URL, go to http://www.666inromannumerals.org/chunk/ - it's like dlcmvia or something. They make fucked up bikes. wonderful stuff.
Earth had nearly 30 people show up, we had O pizza, it all looked good. a lot of energy. I spent 150 bucks on books (not bad for 11), English looked like fun. We read a short story about two married people having an affair and falling in love. That night I dreamt my mother was cheating on my dad with some 17 year old grocery boy. I was really, really pissed - not so much that she was cheating on him, more that he was 17. I knew it wasn't fair, but I was a real bitch to both of them. I woke up feeling unsettled and embarassed.
Thursday night I got a weird e-mail from my sister Sarah. We'd been chatting lightly back and forth earlier in the week - on the phone, then funny e-mail forwards. I thought I wouldn't hear from her for a while, but she emails me and says, "How are you doing? If you ever need to talk to someone who's not mom or dad, I'm here for you, okay? Call me any time at (phone numbers). Love Sarah."
I worry about this for a few minutes, wondering what the bad news is. Amanda says, "ask her." So I write back, "Uh, is there something I should know about? Did Dad's catscan not go well?" Dad's trip to the oncologist (sp) the week before wasn't so good, he said a bloodtest went the wrong way for a tumor marker, and they moved the catscan up a few weeks. I immediately think of this.
Sarah rights back, "No, just preparing for the worst. You know." I think it's pretty lame, but I decide to accept it at face value and not worry myself.
Then we get to Friday. I was going to go to campus relatively early so that Earth people could put up the hiking trip fliers for next Sunday. It was about 11 o'clock ( I woke up late), and my dad called. Mom wasn't on the phone with him, like she usually is. This usually means bad news. He said in a sad, strained voice, "Do you have time to talk? I have to tell you about something." Uh oh. He calls back on my recently-hooked up home phone (my cell phone only works in the front yard, damn Sprint's lousy coverage).
"You remember that bloodtest I told you about, that it came back positive for a tumor? Well, they did the catscan, and that spot that they had found on my liver before that they said wasn't cancer - well, it's grown since the last checkup. So, my cancer has spread. They could do operations, but it's probably spread all over my body. They can't do anything. The doctors have given me about six more months."
Here's where I start crying.
"They said I'll have three good months, and then it'll start to affect me, and then I'll have a few more months until.... And there's not really anything they can do. There's some treatment, like pills or chemo, but it'll just maybe add a month or so, and it'll make me feel bad the whole time. I'm going to keep working for a while, to keep up medical insurance, and I have 7 weeks vacation, so I can take off whenever I want to. We'll go on trips and stuff, and I wanted to go to the beach again, near Charleston. I always liked it there, I really enjoy walking on the beach." I remember that he had mentioned this earlier, and my mom chided him, saying that he just wanted it to be like it was before, when all of us were kids. I tightened up even more on the floor and cried harder.
We talked more, about financial things, and possible alternative treatments. I had meant holistic or natural medicine, all the new age stuff I've been hearing about. He thought I meant research hospitals. He'll consider the research stuff but again, thinks it will only worsen his quality of life. I decide to bring up the other stuff later, maybe subtly.
He says I have to talk to my teachers, and decide what I want to do. I say, "I think.... I think I'd rather come home." I know that there's not even a question about it, but I can tell he doesn't want me to. He's proud of what I do up here, and he puts a lot (a little too much) of importance on education. I remember what Ayako said about how she regretted spending three years away from her cat, who she loved like a sister. Her cat died of kidney failure at only 9 years old. She said she was so glad that she was able to see her cat, and say goodbye, but she still wishes she had spent time with them, instead of going to college. I remember the week I took off for my grandfather's funeral freshman year. It made my life hell, but I never regretted it... And I knew I had to come home. My dad says, "I was afraid you'd say that. Well, consider it, and ask your advisor.." etc. etc.
After I get off the phone, I start weeping in earnest, balled up on the floor, mouth open in a silent wail. I stumble around in shock and fall on the couch, cry some more. Think. Think about how much I'll miss him. About how his life is kind of sad, how he worked so hard for so long, and he'll never get to retire. About how lonely mom will be. About the pain he's going to go through. And he's not afraid of that, that's not what he's worried about. He just doesn't want it to negatively affect our lives. He wishes he could protect us from it, that's why he doesn't want me to come home. He doesn't want to be a bother to us.
Dad, you silly thing. There's not really a choice about it.
Later that day, mom and dad call back and tell me that they're supportive of me wanting to come home. My dad realizes it would be better all around, that I wouldn't be happy at school. I'd be useless, really. Leaving all the time to visit, not being able to concentrate, etc. Personally, I know he misses me, and he'd be happy to have me home. And I just have to be there. There's no way I can't be home with him, and spend what time I can with him. No way. I went on campus and filled out the withdrawal form later that day. Did a lot of emailing.
I spend that weekend packing, getting things together, making plans. I'm to leave a week later, Saturday the 8th. I get Earth stuff figured out, try to find a new president or new leaders, at least. Ayako and Laura are wonderful. We bake peanut butter cookies and make pancakes and watch movies together. We fight with our landlord about phone lines, and I ask him questions about the lease and subletting. I decide to leave my furniture in the house.
This would have been my senior year, so all of my friends are graduating. I'm really going to miss everyone in Studio - I love this group so much. They're all wonderful. I'd love to have seen what projects they did, and where they go - I'll try to come back for graduation, but I don't know if I will be able to. The doctors say six months - who knows? Anyway, I decide to throw a good-bye party Friday night at my casa. I let everyone know why I'm leaving - he's been fighting it since March. We won some battles, but we've lost the war. Short, to the point.
A few days later, the emails come streaming in. Support, offers of help and sympathy. "If there's anything I can do..." Scheduling getting together with friends who can't make it to the party, or who want to hang out seperately.
My advisor is fantastic. She sends me an email on Tuesday asking if I'm okay, apologizing for not being more touchy-feely on Friday. I tell her it's okay, I'm not touchy-feely either. I met with Harriet today, talked about my summer internship and how well it went, what I hope to do in the future. What I should do on my break. I'm thinking of taking classes or working, if nothing else than to keep myself busy. When I come back, I want to graduate in a semester, save some money. Mom has almost a million dollars to support her, but she's only 53, and the women in her family live a long time. She'll probably have to work more than she does now. I'm hoping Sarah will be able to send her on some cruises. If I get a good paying job, I'll either pay her back or buy her expensive presents like furniture. I always felt bad about taking all that money for my education.
Anyway. I've got another Earth meeting in 15 minutes. I should probably be on time for this one. I'll let the group know what's going on, and we'll try to figure out who's taking over. Ayako and Aria, Matt, maybe some other girls who were in Earth all last year. It's a shame I won't be able to be president, we were going to have a really good year, I think.
We're lucky in that respect, though. Other than the cancer, we really have nothing to worry about. I can take off from school easily. My sisters live nearby. We have enough money. My parents have really good friends to take care of them in NC, I have most of mine up here but I have some in Charlotte, too.
I'll be posting a lot more than expected now.
Thursday, August 16, 2001
I've been working on a lot of Earth-related stuff recently, and I thought about how I would defend myself if someone, say an Objectivist, came up and started arguing the merits of conservation. Why do you care what happens to the earth after you die?
A good explanation for people that don't care about the well-being of anyone but themselves would be to tell them that they never really die, they just take a time-out before coming back to a new life. Therefore any problems they create for future generations become their problems next time.
This point becomes moot, however, when arguing with someone who was not raised beliving in reincarnation. I've found that even when someone converts, they still tend to carry a residue, if you will, of old beliefs or superstitions. I just was wondering... if our nation was mostly Buddhist or Hindu, would we have such problems with the environment? Certainly there would be fewer instances of heart disease, since there would most likely be more vegetarians or vegans, or at least more meals that included that eating style. But that's a tangent...
I'm just wondering what the far-reaching effects would be of a national belief in reincarnation. The knowledge that you are responsible for your actions towards yourself and others, that you will meet again those you have wronged, and be forced to make it up to them, that anything you do now will be visited upon you again - how much would it improve our society?
As I see it, or at least as I can tell through casual practitioners of it, Christianity is based on forgiveness. Jesus saves - it means you were lost in the first place. It seems as though most casual Christians use the Bible to justify their prejudices, but ignore its dictates about pious action and do-gooding. They use church as a weekly redemption of their everyday sins, believing that they can do whatever they want, as long as they feel bad about it afterwards, and ask for forgiveness. It's like a never-ending get out of jail free card, and most people milk it for all that it's worth.
If people actually believed that their sins cannot be erased, that they will be punished for any and all wrongdoings (and punished accordingly) - if they knew that the purpose of their life was to improve themselves, to make themselves into better people, rather than to entertain themselves and make themselves happy in shallow ways - would they not be sure to treat others as they wish to be treated? Not because they will go to hell- which any sly Christian knows can be averted by asking forgivness, and besides won't happen to any true believer, regardless of their sins - but because they will actually suffer for it in life. Perhaps not this one, but in the next. People would be much more hesitant to wrong others, knowing that they would later be so wronged. They would be more eager to help others, knowing that they could be helping loved ones that they had lost, or perhaps their future friends and family. Knowing that others would help them when they needed it.
I can't help but think that the loopholes in Christianity, which have turned off so many from mass religion, have been detrimental to society. Now mind, I'm not talking about true Christians, who actually follow the laws of 'Love thy neighbor'. My friend is one of those, and I don't know any group in the world that she hates. My other friend exhibits almost every negative trait I can think of, from time to time, but as a recent convert keeps exhorting me to save myself, before it is too late. I'm sorry, but I feel myself in a better spiritual position at this point than she is, even if I, like the majority of the world, am not Christian. She's caused a lot of pain in her lifetime already, and has more vices than I care to list. Her main goal right now is to keep herself happy and fed, and she uses the Bible as a subsitute for a strong moral force. Because she believes in Jesus, she is a moral person, and therfore doesn't have much to worry about. I don't believe in Jesus, therfore I am doomed. Yet she is preparing to live her life for herself and herself alone, and ridicules any who profess to change the world or help others. She lies with abandon, steals from her parents, hates groups of people because they are different than she is, yet she tells me that *my* soul is in trouble. I'm not saying that I am spiritually superior - but people in glass houses....
I wish more Christians were like Joanne. She loves everybody, she's incredibly sweet, and she likes helping people. Sure, she tries to recruit me now and then, but it's because God makes her so happy, and she wants me to have the same happiness. She wants to help people for the sake of helping people, not to aid her way to heaven.
Is it such a stretch to believe that if everyone was trying to make themselves into better people, the world would genuinly improve? Not be perfect, but... be better. And make it easier to solve problems, or prevent them.
Well, it's all just rhetoric, anyway. Am I using that word right?
A good explanation for people that don't care about the well-being of anyone but themselves would be to tell them that they never really die, they just take a time-out before coming back to a new life. Therefore any problems they create for future generations become their problems next time.
This point becomes moot, however, when arguing with someone who was not raised beliving in reincarnation. I've found that even when someone converts, they still tend to carry a residue, if you will, of old beliefs or superstitions. I just was wondering... if our nation was mostly Buddhist or Hindu, would we have such problems with the environment? Certainly there would be fewer instances of heart disease, since there would most likely be more vegetarians or vegans, or at least more meals that included that eating style. But that's a tangent...
I'm just wondering what the far-reaching effects would be of a national belief in reincarnation. The knowledge that you are responsible for your actions towards yourself and others, that you will meet again those you have wronged, and be forced to make it up to them, that anything you do now will be visited upon you again - how much would it improve our society?
As I see it, or at least as I can tell through casual practitioners of it, Christianity is based on forgiveness. Jesus saves - it means you were lost in the first place. It seems as though most casual Christians use the Bible to justify their prejudices, but ignore its dictates about pious action and do-gooding. They use church as a weekly redemption of their everyday sins, believing that they can do whatever they want, as long as they feel bad about it afterwards, and ask for forgiveness. It's like a never-ending get out of jail free card, and most people milk it for all that it's worth.
If people actually believed that their sins cannot be erased, that they will be punished for any and all wrongdoings (and punished accordingly) - if they knew that the purpose of their life was to improve themselves, to make themselves into better people, rather than to entertain themselves and make themselves happy in shallow ways - would they not be sure to treat others as they wish to be treated? Not because they will go to hell- which any sly Christian knows can be averted by asking forgivness, and besides won't happen to any true believer, regardless of their sins - but because they will actually suffer for it in life. Perhaps not this one, but in the next. People would be much more hesitant to wrong others, knowing that they would later be so wronged. They would be more eager to help others, knowing that they could be helping loved ones that they had lost, or perhaps their future friends and family. Knowing that others would help them when they needed it.
I can't help but think that the loopholes in Christianity, which have turned off so many from mass religion, have been detrimental to society. Now mind, I'm not talking about true Christians, who actually follow the laws of 'Love thy neighbor'. My friend is one of those, and I don't know any group in the world that she hates. My other friend exhibits almost every negative trait I can think of, from time to time, but as a recent convert keeps exhorting me to save myself, before it is too late. I'm sorry, but I feel myself in a better spiritual position at this point than she is, even if I, like the majority of the world, am not Christian. She's caused a lot of pain in her lifetime already, and has more vices than I care to list. Her main goal right now is to keep herself happy and fed, and she uses the Bible as a subsitute for a strong moral force. Because she believes in Jesus, she is a moral person, and therfore doesn't have much to worry about. I don't believe in Jesus, therfore I am doomed. Yet she is preparing to live her life for herself and herself alone, and ridicules any who profess to change the world or help others. She lies with abandon, steals from her parents, hates groups of people because they are different than she is, yet she tells me that *my* soul is in trouble. I'm not saying that I am spiritually superior - but people in glass houses....
I wish more Christians were like Joanne. She loves everybody, she's incredibly sweet, and she likes helping people. Sure, she tries to recruit me now and then, but it's because God makes her so happy, and she wants me to have the same happiness. She wants to help people for the sake of helping people, not to aid her way to heaven.
Is it such a stretch to believe that if everyone was trying to make themselves into better people, the world would genuinly improve? Not be perfect, but... be better. And make it easier to solve problems, or prevent them.
Well, it's all just rhetoric, anyway. Am I using that word right?
Tuesday, August 14, 2001
Internet's been down a lot today. Hence my late posting... I can't believe I have 3 more days to do EVERYTHING at work. I redid my design again, after realizing that it's a big waste of space. You'd have to lift up an extra 6 square inches of steel or so... we don't need to add any weight. It needs to be <5 lbs. to be handicap accessible, plus we don't want this crashing down and squishing anyone's hand. I'm also trying to keep it animal proof, although it is counterintuitive. You open the lid from the side, not the front. I'll have to put some indicator, a dome maybe, to show where you pick the thing up from, or everyone will be totally confused. Yeah, that shouldn't be too hard.
I've cut it down to four hinges - one for each lid (max 5 lbs., not too heavy duty) and then one for each door. Problem is, they're opening the front, the side, and the lids - that's gonna be a lot heavier. But the hinge can be much more heavy duty... and all of the support is on the ground, not on the worker's backs, so that should help. The way I have it, you can get in from the top or the side,and you can repair it pretty well. I must remember to leave a ramp for hand trucks and wheels...
I started to try to describe my design, but there are so many things were pictures just work.... so much better. Oh, speaking of pictures, I uploaded some yesterday - from my parent's visit to San Fran. Most are not so good, but it was fun to take them. I was also trying to get a picture to put on here, but it didn't come out too well. Hence the random yellow picture of my eyes... By the way, in the pictures, I'm the portly one with the 50s hairdo. I really must get a haircut sometime, but it feels so strange to get it cut more than once a year...
I'm having dinner over at Kat's mom's house tomorrow with Ayako, who will probably pass out into her salmon. She actually did get sleep last night, but I doubt she will tonight... ugh, I'm so glad I'm not in school. We talked to Laura last night, and I meant to talk to the new landlord today, but I forgot to write down the number. I really must stop daydreaming so much - I woke up on time this morning (well, kinda) but I just kept hitting snooze so I could daydream... even when I wake up, I can't stop. I kind of got my mind out of it when I started reading Once and Future King on the train, but then I was thinking of Lancelot and Guinevere the whole way to the bus, and it wasn't very effective. Like giving drugs to heroin addicts - it's not as bad, but it's still not good.
I'm in the mood right now where I'd be happy wandering around my apartment, staring at the wall and talking to myself, with a glazed look in my eyes. I'd be happy doing that for about 3 weeks. When I get a good fantasy going, it's kind of a double edged sword - it makes me happy, but it also makes the rest of my life intensely boring by comparison, so I tend to avoid it. Eventually I get sick of that, but because I still have a good part of the day where I have to work, it keeps sucking me back in. Dammit.
I feel drained. Today was not a good day... my crane won't work with the truck dumper. The internet was down... and I had the most horrific sandwich ever. I knew it would be bad, but I don't think I quite grasped the extent of its potential badness. I'm trying to get rid of my loaf of honey-whole grain bread, or something like that. I am so sick of peanut butter sandwiches that I gag whenever I eat them, so I decided to switch to cheese. Sounds simple right? Cheese sandwich. Well, remember the fancy bread - incredibly soft Monterey Jack and honey just do not mix with whole wheat bread. Ugh. I managed to choke most of it down, because I knew I'd be starving otherwise, but there are some things which are just not meant to be. What the hell else can I do with that bread? It won't die. I've had it for weeks and it's not even spood yet... and I hate Hunt's pudding. The chocolate's okay, but the vanilla is horrible. I know, bitch whine bitch, but how does Jello make theirs so much better? I love Jello, hate Hunts. Hunts just always sucks. They'll never match Heinz, I'm sorry. If I had to choose between purple Heinz and regular Hunt's, I'd choose Heinz any day.
Gotta go - meeting Ayako for dinner. Not getting anything done here anyway - sigh.
I've cut it down to four hinges - one for each lid (max 5 lbs., not too heavy duty) and then one for each door. Problem is, they're opening the front, the side, and the lids - that's gonna be a lot heavier. But the hinge can be much more heavy duty... and all of the support is on the ground, not on the worker's backs, so that should help. The way I have it, you can get in from the top or the side,and you can repair it pretty well. I must remember to leave a ramp for hand trucks and wheels...
I started to try to describe my design, but there are so many things were pictures just work.... so much better. Oh, speaking of pictures, I uploaded some yesterday - from my parent's visit to San Fran. Most are not so good, but it was fun to take them. I was also trying to get a picture to put on here, but it didn't come out too well. Hence the random yellow picture of my eyes... By the way, in the pictures, I'm the portly one with the 50s hairdo. I really must get a haircut sometime, but it feels so strange to get it cut more than once a year...
I'm having dinner over at Kat's mom's house tomorrow with Ayako, who will probably pass out into her salmon. She actually did get sleep last night, but I doubt she will tonight... ugh, I'm so glad I'm not in school. We talked to Laura last night, and I meant to talk to the new landlord today, but I forgot to write down the number. I really must stop daydreaming so much - I woke up on time this morning (well, kinda) but I just kept hitting snooze so I could daydream... even when I wake up, I can't stop. I kind of got my mind out of it when I started reading Once and Future King on the train, but then I was thinking of Lancelot and Guinevere the whole way to the bus, and it wasn't very effective. Like giving drugs to heroin addicts - it's not as bad, but it's still not good.
I'm in the mood right now where I'd be happy wandering around my apartment, staring at the wall and talking to myself, with a glazed look in my eyes. I'd be happy doing that for about 3 weeks. When I get a good fantasy going, it's kind of a double edged sword - it makes me happy, but it also makes the rest of my life intensely boring by comparison, so I tend to avoid it. Eventually I get sick of that, but because I still have a good part of the day where I have to work, it keeps sucking me back in. Dammit.
I feel drained. Today was not a good day... my crane won't work with the truck dumper. The internet was down... and I had the most horrific sandwich ever. I knew it would be bad, but I don't think I quite grasped the extent of its potential badness. I'm trying to get rid of my loaf of honey-whole grain bread, or something like that. I am so sick of peanut butter sandwiches that I gag whenever I eat them, so I decided to switch to cheese. Sounds simple right? Cheese sandwich. Well, remember the fancy bread - incredibly soft Monterey Jack and honey just do not mix with whole wheat bread. Ugh. I managed to choke most of it down, because I knew I'd be starving otherwise, but there are some things which are just not meant to be. What the hell else can I do with that bread? It won't die. I've had it for weeks and it's not even spood yet... and I hate Hunt's pudding. The chocolate's okay, but the vanilla is horrible. I know, bitch whine bitch, but how does Jello make theirs so much better? I love Jello, hate Hunts. Hunts just always sucks. They'll never match Heinz, I'm sorry. If I had to choose between purple Heinz and regular Hunt's, I'd choose Heinz any day.
Gotta go - meeting Ayako for dinner. Not getting anything done here anyway - sigh.
Monday, August 13, 2001
Time for at-work-train-of-thought bitching...
I can't find this equipment anywhere. I've called grainger, I've called cushman, I've called toro... nothing.
I need to find a crane that will fit on the back of a small electric truck, like ones made by cushman or toro. It can't tip over. It needs to be able to attach to a dumping truck bed, hopefully without disabling it, or tipping it over. It needs to be able to lift 250 - 500 lbs. I don't even know how to search for this thing. No one has any idea. There must be something out there.... bah.
I found another crane that is cheaper than what we were looking at.. if they still sell them. But it looks okay, it should work. It's like 1/3 of the price - I'm not sure if that's a bad thing or a good thing. Talked to a guy in Washington who would have been able to find a very small crane for me, but they only do local stuff.
Okay, here we go... local manufacturers. This may do it! Yay. If I can get this figured out, at least we'll get *that* done, and I will have accomplished what I came here for. Even though it wasn't my idea, they had all thought of it to begin with.
I love hold music. First it's latino music for Toro industries, then some fantastic classical, and coast cranes played "Wipeout". I was jamming... hell, I'm still jamming. I should stop for lunch, but I'm on a roll.
Ugh. Bad hold music. Or should I say, muzak. It sounds like the theme to an eighties family sitcom. (shudder) If you're wanting some good hold music, call Toro Industries. They have spicy latin and upbeat classical. HarborFreight hold music is Bad.
Awwwwww sheeeit. I done found it. Whatever it is, it's perfect, and solves 2/3 problems, and even one that I'd given up on solving. rock the fucking house. Yeah baby. A crane that folds back into your bumper when not in use - replace the bumper with this thing. That means I can use the dump bed that's available, and the truck doesn't have this crane that's always attached to the bed. Ohh baby. (never thought I'd get *so* excited about a crane.)
Argh. I need to get a quote from this distributor, and I have to write it on letterhead. I haven't written a business letter or memo in forever.. hope I did it right. I feel so professional, faxing people for estimates on US Government letterhead. Wooo wooo....
Okay! I think I got this all figured out. Now I need to go have lunch... is it really 3:30? Wow. I guess I'm making up for all the lost time... my usual thing. With a six week assignment, I would work pretty hard the first 2-3 weeks, spend a week or two completely slacking off, and then work my ass off the last week or so to get the project finished. That's what I've been doing... at least I'm consistent.
Well, I think this is the most boring blog EVER so I will sign off now, and go call Kat's mom, like I should have 3 days ago. oops.
I can't find this equipment anywhere. I've called grainger, I've called cushman, I've called toro... nothing.
I need to find a crane that will fit on the back of a small electric truck, like ones made by cushman or toro. It can't tip over. It needs to be able to attach to a dumping truck bed, hopefully without disabling it, or tipping it over. It needs to be able to lift 250 - 500 lbs. I don't even know how to search for this thing. No one has any idea. There must be something out there.... bah.
I found another crane that is cheaper than what we were looking at.. if they still sell them. But it looks okay, it should work. It's like 1/3 of the price - I'm not sure if that's a bad thing or a good thing. Talked to a guy in Washington who would have been able to find a very small crane for me, but they only do local stuff.
Okay, here we go... local manufacturers. This may do it! Yay. If I can get this figured out, at least we'll get *that* done, and I will have accomplished what I came here for. Even though it wasn't my idea, they had all thought of it to begin with.
I love hold music. First it's latino music for Toro industries, then some fantastic classical, and coast cranes played "Wipeout". I was jamming... hell, I'm still jamming. I should stop for lunch, but I'm on a roll.
Ugh. Bad hold music. Or should I say, muzak. It sounds like the theme to an eighties family sitcom. (shudder) If you're wanting some good hold music, call Toro Industries. They have spicy latin and upbeat classical. HarborFreight hold music is Bad.
Awwwwww sheeeit. I done found it. Whatever it is, it's perfect, and solves 2/3 problems, and even one that I'd given up on solving. rock the fucking house. Yeah baby. A crane that folds back into your bumper when not in use - replace the bumper with this thing. That means I can use the dump bed that's available, and the truck doesn't have this crane that's always attached to the bed. Ohh baby. (never thought I'd get *so* excited about a crane.)
Argh. I need to get a quote from this distributor, and I have to write it on letterhead. I haven't written a business letter or memo in forever.. hope I did it right. I feel so professional, faxing people for estimates on US Government letterhead. Wooo wooo....
Okay! I think I got this all figured out. Now I need to go have lunch... is it really 3:30? Wow. I guess I'm making up for all the lost time... my usual thing. With a six week assignment, I would work pretty hard the first 2-3 weeks, spend a week or two completely slacking off, and then work my ass off the last week or so to get the project finished. That's what I've been doing... at least I'm consistent.
Well, I think this is the most boring blog EVER so I will sign off now, and go call Kat's mom, like I should have 3 days ago. oops.
Sunday, August 12, 2001
Latarsha determined recently that Caron's life is 16% drama, after sleeping, eating, working, crapping, etc., which is four times the normal amount of drama that people experience. She further determined that one half of that, or 8%, is caused by Caron herself (I might even say more, it seems like all drama starts with Caron). However, that still leaves 8% external drama. Caron wonders why the hell people keep bringing drama into her life. She got rear-ended by a SUV a couple weeks ago. She was slowing down because the people in front of her were slowing down because there was an officer in distress on one side of the highway and there were like 20 cop cars there. The under-the-influence-20-year-old-on-his-way-to-a-club guy in the SUV did not slow down, and plowed into her at 75 miles an hour, sending her across three (luckily empty) lanes of highway. She landed with her feet in the air. Her chiropractor is amazed she can still walk, and she's visiting 3 times a week, and not allowed to lift anything, or sit still. After looking at the car, both Caron and her mother are amazed she's alive. SUVs are BAD.
So anyway, after hearing that the average person's life is 4% drama, and reading a few other people's blogs, I have determined that my drama levels are largely deficient. I think you can tell that from reading my blogs... I think it's from my limited interaction with people. Jamie and Leland rarely bring drama - we had one 'family meeting' where we discussed such dramatic issues as bills, move-out day, and dirty dishes. Ayako and I get along pretty well - our last conflict was about whether or not soup consituted a meal.
Maybe I do have the average amount of drama, but I just swallow it, or ignore it, or don't think about it, or don't care about it... but I think it's mostly the lack of relationships. I'm close friends with Caron and Ayako (although I may try to avoid Caron more, now that she's trying to convert me. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. She belives that whatever's in the Bible must be real, and true, and historically accurate. They haven't been able to disprove anything in the Bible, she says. Well, if I told everyone that I was an alien from outer space that had taken over a human body, they wouldn't be able to disprove that either, would they? But I'd get locked up, or at least put on medication. However, a large percent of Americans worship a guy who said he was the incarnation of God on earth, and could perform miracles, and walk on water, and rise from the dead... but they are considered fine, upstanding citizens. I agree that the Bible can be considered a partly historical work, but also partly fictional. I put as much faith in what it says as I do romance books - it's 2000 years old, edited and translated thousands of times, by many people that had alternate motives. Take it with a grain of salt. End tangent.)
But anyway, the fact remains, that I really only have 2 friends. I could say that Laura is closer than most other people - ditto with LaTarsha and Kelly Rae. I know Jamie, Leland, Helen, Katelyn, Elizabeth, Lauren, Rachel, Katie, and Hannah that much better because I lived with them, but I hardly see any of them otherwise. Everyone besides Caron and Ayako are really only varying levels of acquaintances. I don't do anything with anyone else. I don't have deep talks with anyone else, not even my family. All of my relationships are either very stable, or very superficial. I don't have conflict, I don't have drama, I don't have problematic relationships, for the most part. Hell, I know Caron and I bug each other at times, and there's definitley a lot we don't agree on. Ditto with Ayako and I, although for the absurd amount of time that we spend together, I think we're doing pretty damn well.
I know I have issues and problems. I know that I have emotional difficulties. Why don't I have drama? Not that I want it, I'm just wondering.... why *not* me?
Eh. It'll probably happen when I start dating (whenever that will be). I'll start that, 'he looked at me weird. I don't know what that's supposed to mean. Does he hate me? Does he love me? Does he want space? Is he cheating on me? Did he just smell something bad, and make a face? Was that something bad - ME?' shit. So annoying. There's certain things I hope I will never become. I hope I won't be an incredibly strict parent. I hope I won't engage in public displays of affection. I hope I never, ever, make baby talk to anyone or anything. (Perhaps my baby's first word will be an SAT word, instead of ga-ga.) I hope I never bore the living shit out of my friends with relationship drama. Just strangers. ;)
So anyway, after hearing that the average person's life is 4% drama, and reading a few other people's blogs, I have determined that my drama levels are largely deficient. I think you can tell that from reading my blogs... I think it's from my limited interaction with people. Jamie and Leland rarely bring drama - we had one 'family meeting' where we discussed such dramatic issues as bills, move-out day, and dirty dishes. Ayako and I get along pretty well - our last conflict was about whether or not soup consituted a meal.
Maybe I do have the average amount of drama, but I just swallow it, or ignore it, or don't think about it, or don't care about it... but I think it's mostly the lack of relationships. I'm close friends with Caron and Ayako (although I may try to avoid Caron more, now that she's trying to convert me. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. She belives that whatever's in the Bible must be real, and true, and historically accurate. They haven't been able to disprove anything in the Bible, she says. Well, if I told everyone that I was an alien from outer space that had taken over a human body, they wouldn't be able to disprove that either, would they? But I'd get locked up, or at least put on medication. However, a large percent of Americans worship a guy who said he was the incarnation of God on earth, and could perform miracles, and walk on water, and rise from the dead... but they are considered fine, upstanding citizens. I agree that the Bible can be considered a partly historical work, but also partly fictional. I put as much faith in what it says as I do romance books - it's 2000 years old, edited and translated thousands of times, by many people that had alternate motives. Take it with a grain of salt. End tangent.)
But anyway, the fact remains, that I really only have 2 friends. I could say that Laura is closer than most other people - ditto with LaTarsha and Kelly Rae. I know Jamie, Leland, Helen, Katelyn, Elizabeth, Lauren, Rachel, Katie, and Hannah that much better because I lived with them, but I hardly see any of them otherwise. Everyone besides Caron and Ayako are really only varying levels of acquaintances. I don't do anything with anyone else. I don't have deep talks with anyone else, not even my family. All of my relationships are either very stable, or very superficial. I don't have conflict, I don't have drama, I don't have problematic relationships, for the most part. Hell, I know Caron and I bug each other at times, and there's definitley a lot we don't agree on. Ditto with Ayako and I, although for the absurd amount of time that we spend together, I think we're doing pretty damn well.
I know I have issues and problems. I know that I have emotional difficulties. Why don't I have drama? Not that I want it, I'm just wondering.... why *not* me?
Eh. It'll probably happen when I start dating (whenever that will be). I'll start that, 'he looked at me weird. I don't know what that's supposed to mean. Does he hate me? Does he love me? Does he want space? Is he cheating on me? Did he just smell something bad, and make a face? Was that something bad - ME?' shit. So annoying. There's certain things I hope I will never become. I hope I won't be an incredibly strict parent. I hope I won't engage in public displays of affection. I hope I never, ever, make baby talk to anyone or anything. (Perhaps my baby's first word will be an SAT word, instead of ga-ga.) I hope I never bore the living shit out of my friends with relationship drama. Just strangers. ;)
Updated my template again. Screwed it up a lot first, but I think I've got it down now... I may decide to make the background white again, but now this matches my webpage a little more closely. Sigh.. if I could figure out how to make the background of the blogs different from the background of the page, it would get a lot closer. But oh well... I don't know what other color I'd make it, anyway.
It's 1:30 and I'm still in my robe... Jamie and Leland have a male friend over, and I don't want to leave my bedroom until I'm dressed... well, even then I don't want to leave my bedroom. I'm still way too shy... but it sounds like they're going to be here for a while, and I really should at least leave the room sometime today. But I have nothing else to do - I went grocery shopping yesterday and picked up La Femme Nikita from Reel Video (they were out of O Brother, Where Art Thou?). Pretty good movie - Nowhere to Run totally ripped it off. I mean, I thought it was just based on LFN, but.... no. Almost scene for scene, except not so eighties, and not so good. I love Luc Besson - his women kick ass. (I haven't seen the Messenger yet...) and Jean Reno was in it! He's so cool. :)
So now I have nothing to do. Ayako went to Oakland to find a children's book for her Child Psych assignment. Jamie, Leland and... friend (no fucking clue what his name is) keep watching Woody Allen movies. He's funny, for the most part, but Woody himself just bugs me SO much. The twitching and and and stuttering and and gesturing, it just... well, it just drives me, y'know, inSANE. Aaaah.
I guess I could keep reading Once and Future King... it's gotten a lot darker in the 2nd part. A bunch of kids hacked the head off of a unicorn... it was really disgusting, and gave you that sick feeling inside. Ew. I need to finish it before I leave (library book), but I want something to read on the BART. Maybe I'll draw... I left all my conte at home, though. I guess my graphite pencil (??) will work. Anyway. Time to get dressed.
It's 1:30 and I'm still in my robe... Jamie and Leland have a male friend over, and I don't want to leave my bedroom until I'm dressed... well, even then I don't want to leave my bedroom. I'm still way too shy... but it sounds like they're going to be here for a while, and I really should at least leave the room sometime today. But I have nothing else to do - I went grocery shopping yesterday and picked up La Femme Nikita from Reel Video (they were out of O Brother, Where Art Thou?). Pretty good movie - Nowhere to Run totally ripped it off. I mean, I thought it was just based on LFN, but.... no. Almost scene for scene, except not so eighties, and not so good. I love Luc Besson - his women kick ass. (I haven't seen the Messenger yet...) and Jean Reno was in it! He's so cool. :)
So now I have nothing to do. Ayako went to Oakland to find a children's book for her Child Psych assignment. Jamie, Leland and... friend (no fucking clue what his name is) keep watching Woody Allen movies. He's funny, for the most part, but Woody himself just bugs me SO much. The twitching and and and stuttering and and gesturing, it just... well, it just drives me, y'know, inSANE. Aaaah.
I guess I could keep reading Once and Future King... it's gotten a lot darker in the 2nd part. A bunch of kids hacked the head off of a unicorn... it was really disgusting, and gave you that sick feeling inside. Ew. I need to finish it before I leave (library book), but I want something to read on the BART. Maybe I'll draw... I left all my conte at home, though. I guess my graphite pencil (??) will work. Anyway. Time to get dressed.
Listening to music at home. Y'know, I can live without music, but... why??
A while ago, I was in a Billy Joel mood and downloaded all of the favorites of my youth. It made its way onto my CD of MP3s, and "For the Longest Time" just came on after Billie Holiday. I was about to change it, not being in a particularly Billy Joel-ish mood, but I remembered that night at Governor's School back in Winston-Salem when the boys all sneaked out of their dorms and ran around serenading the girls' dorms. They were right outside my two story window. I was awakened by a great shuffling of feet as the dozens, or perhaps hundreds, ran up to stand on the brick entrance patio. Some whispering and coughing, and then they broke out into an accapella rendition of "For the Longest Time." I was thoroughly charmed. They were about to start something else, when I heard the authorities come running, shouting "Hey! Hey you guys over there! What are you doing out here!" The boys let out that yell, like the one James Belushi, D-Day and Flounder let out in Animal House when they shot the horse inside the Dean's office. That, "Oh shit, we're gonna get caught, let's get out of here, but isn't this funny" yell, as they ran away. I heard more chasing all over campus for a few minutes, and then silence. Great stuff. The guys at Governor's School were fantastic. Smart, talented, individualistic, and not fratty yet. They made their own fun, for the most part, and we all had a great time. It's a shame I didn't get to make friends with any of them, although the other guys in the art class were pretty nice and easy to talk to. I never really clicked with anyone there, though. Which was okay - I think a big part of that summer was learning I could be fine on my own. Without friends, I could find things to do, and be comfortable with it. I don't think I could always live that way, but it made me feel good to know I'm not dependent on anyone else to survive. Well, emotionally, anyway. Hopefully that means I'll be able to avoid destructive relationships, or at least leave them if I have to, and not be afraid of being alone. I think that's a good thing to know about yourself. Maybe that's why I didn't make any close friends - so I could learn that I didn't have to. All in all, that was a fantastic experience.
A while ago, I was in a Billy Joel mood and downloaded all of the favorites of my youth. It made its way onto my CD of MP3s, and "For the Longest Time" just came on after Billie Holiday. I was about to change it, not being in a particularly Billy Joel-ish mood, but I remembered that night at Governor's School back in Winston-Salem when the boys all sneaked out of their dorms and ran around serenading the girls' dorms. They were right outside my two story window. I was awakened by a great shuffling of feet as the dozens, or perhaps hundreds, ran up to stand on the brick entrance patio. Some whispering and coughing, and then they broke out into an accapella rendition of "For the Longest Time." I was thoroughly charmed. They were about to start something else, when I heard the authorities come running, shouting "Hey! Hey you guys over there! What are you doing out here!" The boys let out that yell, like the one James Belushi, D-Day and Flounder let out in Animal House when they shot the horse inside the Dean's office. That, "Oh shit, we're gonna get caught, let's get out of here, but isn't this funny" yell, as they ran away. I heard more chasing all over campus for a few minutes, and then silence. Great stuff. The guys at Governor's School were fantastic. Smart, talented, individualistic, and not fratty yet. They made their own fun, for the most part, and we all had a great time. It's a shame I didn't get to make friends with any of them, although the other guys in the art class were pretty nice and easy to talk to. I never really clicked with anyone there, though. Which was okay - I think a big part of that summer was learning I could be fine on my own. Without friends, I could find things to do, and be comfortable with it. I don't think I could always live that way, but it made me feel good to know I'm not dependent on anyone else to survive. Well, emotionally, anyway. Hopefully that means I'll be able to avoid destructive relationships, or at least leave them if I have to, and not be afraid of being alone. I think that's a good thing to know about yourself. Maybe that's why I didn't make any close friends - so I could learn that I didn't have to. All in all, that was a fantastic experience.
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