Spinning

I feel like I'm falling apart right now. I watch the moon through the trees and consider the manga that I have up in another tab and try to forget about how my heart hurts in this moment.

I need a good argument, a good conversation, a good hug and something to drink that will wake up the taste buds on the back of my tongue. I need to be able to release all my energy with my own effort.

Maybe I should start running again. Just need a low traffic area where I will be visible (just in case) and won't get distracted by random stuff going on in the background. Even thinking about it makes my knee tighten a little of its own accord though, so maybe not.

I feel the scar there, and think of the less defined one on the other knee. Life leaves scars on people who go through it. One or two of my invisible scars have been tightening lately too.

My invisible scars aren't hard to find. You will know them by my reaction that is not unlike how I react to when people touch my tangible scars. I pull away and go from my usually relatively mellow state to ready to fight if that area is further irritated. I fight for my friends, I fight for my family and I fight for my scars, that others may be saved from enduring them.

I'm backed into a corner now though, and the only thing anyone seems to want to talk about is those scars and what to do about them. Sorry folks, rubbing Vitamin E on the tangible scars didn't make them disappear, and four years of college won't magically solve all my job frustrations. Thanks for the advise though, really.

I know its my fault though. I keep pointing out my own scars and leave them in the open for you to poke and prod at. Who can resist doing something about what is right in front of them?

So, make a decision, my inner voice orders. What am I going to do? Right here, right now. What is it that I am working towards because if you aren't working towards it you are just wasting time and ultimately working against the very things you claim to desire.

I want to cook. I want to write. I want to see the world.

1 of 3. Unacceptable, and that only part time at that.

So, I must cook or travel. Not later. Not a year from now. Not 6 months from now. Now. This moment is when my fate is decided (if you can call anything that one has so much input in fate). My mind spins like a sword on its handle.

I'm sorry my friends, for when the sword lands I will have to meet my own expectations of myself. Everything else is just excess.

Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman (part 5)

From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master total and absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that
would hold me.

I inhale great draughts of space,
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

I am larger, better than I thought,
I did not know I held so much goodness.

All seems beautiful to me,
can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me
I would do the same to you,
I will recruit for myself and you as I go,
I will scatter myself among men and women as I go,
I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them,
Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.

Don't Give Up

I presently have a very un-glamorous job, but, despite the ideas that Wal-Mart's promotional material instills, this is not a career, at least not to me. The scary part is that for many people there it is a career. Don't get me wrong. Wal-Mart is probably one of the best jobs I've had thus far pay and benefits wise (not to mention relatively reliable breaks), but if I had to deal with people yelling at me over $2 on a jacket for more then a year or two I'd snap. (And two years would be really pushing it.)

The people who work at Wal-Mart aren't the high school drop outs that my parents seem to assume they'd be either. The girl who trained me is finishing off a two year business degree this December. One of the night cashiers has a master's degree and used to teach 4th grade at the elementary school I went to. One of the cart pushers had scholarship offers from elite colleges all over the U.S. but decided to go to LG College because he wanted to stay close to home. The list continues, but the fact that these people have potential isn't my point. (Give me a min. I'm getting there.)

This economy yields some interesting insight into people and what they are willing to do and give up doing in order to get by. It is equally interesting to watch what people aren't willing to give up. People give up name brands, new clothes, more expensive foods and other such extravagancies. People don't seem to want to get rid of other things that have an equal if not greater impact on what they spend though, like gourmet pet food and impulse purchases at the register.

Look a little deeper though. What else are we sacrificing to just get by? Looking at the people who have been cashiers or door greeters at Wal-Mart for 10-15 years, I can't help but wondering how many of us are sacrificing our dreams for that tiny bit of financial stability. Overhearing some of the conversations that go on in the check out line, I sometimes get the urge to reach out to the speaker, shake them and say, "Do what you can! Go for your dreams! Don't go on always saying maybe tomorrow! Tomorrow never comes!" I don't say anything though, and they go on talking about what they are giving up. By lent, there will be nothing left to give up except impulse purchases, if things keep going the way they are going now.

Really I want to cry for them. For the dreams they are leaving behind... It is so sad, but few are brave enough to chase their dreams. Am I brave or stupid to attempt to chase mine? Or is it, as such things often prove to be a combination of bravery and stupidity?

Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman (part 11)

Listen! I will be honest with you,
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,
These are the days that must happen to you:
You shall not heap up what is call'd riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,
You but arrive at the city to which you were destin'd, you hardly
settle yourself to satisfaction before you are call'd by an irresistible call to depart,
You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you,
What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting,
You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach'd hands toward you.

For everything else...

Ok so, I admit that I have been looking for "myself." Even as I type it I want to make fun of it, but there it is, the simple fact that I have been attempting to do for the last few months, what so many college age people do. The reason for the constant (and often deserved) satire on this topic is frighteningly clear to me at this close range. After all, what is there to look for? I've been here the whole time.

Really, what it seems to come down to is not so much finding oneself as re-finding oneself. I already know who I am (a pretty cool person if I do say so myself), what I love to do (write) and what I'm passionate about (traveling to really cool places and doing really cool stuff with really cool people).

The problem comes when you sit down and look at the career options and have to try to match what you are with which of the pre-designated acceptable career choices you want to go for. Somehow, travel writer never gets taken seriously as a proposed career path, so my real problem is what can I do that will not hinder what I am passionate about, which is really a bummer of a process when you get right down to it. I mean, who wants to spend the majority of their life doing a job that on the best days simply allows you not to be miserable?

As you've probably already gathered from previous posts, my goal is to be exceptional, so what would an exceptional person do in my place? They'd find a way to do what they love and get paid enough not to worry about overdraft fees, bills or other such annoyances. How can I make my love of travel and addiction to writing pay? Travel agents aren't doing so hot right now, so I'll put that near the bottom of the options list... below tour guide (because while fun in theory, there are only so many times I could answer the same stupid questions about any given place before my patience ran out).

So, I scan my list and check behind door number 3, only to find what I've always thought was awesome anyway, my best case scenario, if you will. Promise you won't laugh?

I want to own a bed & breakfast and close shop to travel during the low season. Sounds fun, right? It would keep me constantly occupied with the things I love, while minimizing the things that get on my last nerve. There are, of course, some big positives and negatives for me on this idea though.

Positives:

• I would be in the travel industry. Woot!
• I could travel (and write) for roughly 1-3 months out of a year.
• I would have a good crowd to help eat-up/give feedback on all my baking experiments.
• I'd need to live near somewhere super cool (location, location, location)
• My job would be to help people enjoy their vacation and find super cool stuff to see/do.

Negatives:

• Breakfast implies morning. I am not a morning person.
• High start up costs.
• Obnoxious guests.
• The cool place that I'd need to be located near would probably have traffic. (grrr...)

When I list it out, I can't help thinking of that credit card commercial. You know. "Backpack: $35, Plane tickets: $213, Dinner: $16, Seeing the World: Priceless."

Is it a realistic idea? Honestly, I have no idea. Does it sound exciting, fun and worth the time and effort? I think so. It definitely heads my career ideas list. First I have to actually own a building though. Baby steps...

What I do know is this idea is about the closest I've gotten to a career idea that I would really love, and like the commercial says, "There are some things money can't buy..."

Changes

There is so much that I want to say, but there is no good place to start. Just like there is so much that I want to do, but I can't seem to find a path that will take me to all the places I want to go and the things I want/need to do.

I've been thinking about relationships with people a lot more then usual lately. Last week I saw my ex-boyfriend, and he didn't recognize me. At first I was a little insulted, but the more I think about it, the more I realize why. I am not the same person I was 2 years ago. I'm not the same person I was a month ago or 10 years ago. For better or for worse I am fundamentally different from what and who I have been. I like to think I've grown.

A year ago, I thought the torture of college was the only way to get a decent job/career. Now I'm finding my own path, and while I won't even begin to pretend that a job at Wally World is the end all be all, it gives me the chance to find new things and in the meantime I am on or above par compared with many friends and even the parents of many of my friends.

2 years ago, I thought that it was okay to put what my family wants before what I want. Now I know that there advice is just that: advice. What I do is my decision because only I can live my life.

3 years ago, I thought that if I didn't have somebody to stand beside me, I would fall. Now I have stood on my own often enough to know that when you stand alone a strength that you did not know you had comes to support you against the turbulence that you must face. Having somebody to stand with me is nice, but if nobody can/will stand with me then I will still be able to survive, and quite possibly thrive.

5 years ago, I truly believed that if you called someone on the phone and hung out with them then you were friends. Now I know that friends are the people who are willing to support you when you aren't even sure if you're worth supporting. (Thanks to Adam K, Richard D and Scott H for being there when I needed it the most.)

10 years ago, I thought that all I needed to do was go to school and be a "good girl" in order to become a NASA scientist, a detective (like Nancy Drew and Scooby Doo) or a doctor.

15 years ago, I thought that life was as simple as it seemed on the weekends I spent at my grandparents' house.

I have changed, for better or worse. It is times like this when the lyric "Wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then" comes to mind, especially on some of the things that I learned weren't true too soon. Other things I seem to have discovered too late. This is who I am now though, for this brief moment in time. Only today though. Tomorrow is a new day where I will learn more (both good and bad) and grow even further.

I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult. - E. B. White (1899 - 1985)

The Path I'm Going Down

Amid my parents' questions of my maturity and readiness to deal with life, I long simply to sprint off in a direction that has been becoming increasingly clear to me through the voices of writers both near and long since gone. It has been almost half a year since my heart to heart with God in the Ford fountain, but the cryptic words of that night keep coming back to me: "Wait and listen and the road will make itself known."

Yeah, you try explaining that to your parents and see what they say. Some things are simply beyond explanation. You have to see it, to hear it, to understand.

Over this brief break from academia, one idea has keep coming back to m

e again and again. The idea of true education. The fact that what we know is only loosely tied to such publicly acceptable institutions as colleges. How little knowledge of truly great importance is taught between those oft hallowed halls frightens me. Of course I know very little and my knowledge is admittedly quite meager, but this fact does not frighten me. What frightens me is those who claim to have vast knowledge of the world and all that is in it (which is an ostentatious claim at any age).

What has happened to travel as education? Why is someone who wanders through Roman ruins for several months, talking to tour guides and seeing the places where great events occurred, put on lower footing then someone who studies the contributions of the Romans in a college? Why is it more important to know about different economy academically then to talk to people in countries with different economies in person? Why is the piece of paper all that matters?

What is it that we learn in college that makes us better then someone with a little bit of real experiences (work or otherwise) under our belts?

But again, I digress into the college thing...

I guess, ultimately, I just want the chance to experience the world more fully and give that experience to others as well. Not everyone can pay for a full semester's education just to receive 3-12 hrs of credits while studying abroad (which are the main options I've observed in colleges). I want to share the world with my friends by giving them an intimate knowledge of it in the only way that such knowledge can be gained: by seeing it and experiencing it in its full beauty and ugliness, its diversities and similarities.

I want to give this generation a chance to possess the world. (Buddhist arguments about reality and possessing anything aside.) As I once read, you possess only what you know. We must know the world, that we may truly come to be, as a generation, the ones who take ownership over this great place where we live and all the influences that have made us who we are. In short, I want our generation to take ownership of ourselves, fully and completely.

Can we afford to accept anything less from life?

Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman (part 15)

Allons! the road is before us!

It is safe--I have tried it--my own feet have tried it well--be not detain'd!

Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen'd!

Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn'd!

Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!

Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law.

Camerado, I give you my hand!

I give you my love more precious than money,

I give you myself before preaching or law;

Will you give me yourself. will you come travel with me?

Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

Condensed Dreams

Today has been one of those days where for no particular reason I just felt off. Off isn't always a bad thing, but it can so easily go bad that many consider it synonymous with having a bad day. Today wasn't quite bad though.

Today felt like stepping outside of me and seeing all that I am and am trying to be without shields or pretenses. It's a scary feeling.

I decided to go down to Columbus to keep my mind off of it. Still, while I was trying on clothes in a store I saw a thin, almost pretty girl looking back at me in the mirror. Can she do all that I aspire to do? Whatever it is that I aspire to do? There is so much for me to do, and so little me. I don't know where to start.

I feel like I'm in a cloud, trying to find a way to condense my dreams.

Thoughts of an Insomniac

It was 2:30 when I realized that sleep wasn't going to happen, not for a while anyway. Too much is going on in my head, so I resort to facebook, where a friend's post actually reminded me that I've been neglecting the blog. So here I am, it's going on 3 am, I'm wondering how to make some coherent since of all these thoughts that keep flashing through my head and downloading Euro-pop.

My granddad is in the hospital now for a blood clot that somehow came up on the x-rays despite the fact that he is on blood thinners. When I see him I still think of sitting on the arm of his giant lazy boy when I was little and staying up way past my bed time to see if the Braves would win the game. Most of the time I didn't even stay awake until the end of the game, but I guess who won didn't matter as much as actually watching the game anyway.

He's worried about me and the fact that I'm not in college and that my lack of diploma will keep me from opportunities. I want to allay his concerns, but with my actual writing projects going so slowly, and my greatest job triumph over the past few months being that I am quote "Manager material," I wouldn't even know where to start. I'm not worried about my future. I know that whatever I do will work out, one way or another, and that if I work hard I'll do alright. (I expect way more of myself then alright, but we won't go into that right now.)

I don't like people worrying about me though. It feels weird somehow. And honestly I don't worry too much about most people I know. I like to talk to them, and I try to be helpful/supportive, but whether they succeed or fail is up to them and their efforts. We are only supporting characters in each other's lives, but we are each the star of our own world.

We each take the stage and play the part that we choose for ourselves. I refuse to let my story be anything but what I shape it to be. My life, my story, is and will continue to be a story of victory over my own life. Some craziness gets thrown in on me every now in then, but I am determined to shape it, so that it will not shape me.

Funny even as I say that, I can't help but picture a cartoon version of me (basically shorter with brighter colors) trying to push a giant globe. I guess that's how I feel some days. I'm too small to move the world on my own, but I'm too hard headed not to try. I like to think that maybe God will help, but my personal theory on God is that he makes things happen primarily when hope and strength are at their breaking points, like a scientist only adjusting a pendulum when it is hit so hard that it will soon fall off of what holds it aloft. Maybe that's a sacrilegious idea, but it seems to fit.

From out of nowhere, I recall a quote that seems to fit my mood: "Today is the first day of the rest of our lives." That it is. Will I be make it in the big bad world? Probably. Will I be hugely successful and do great things? Maybe. Will I meet my own ridiculously high expectations of myself? Ha ha. I'm not even entirely sure that's possible, but you can bet that I'm going to try. I will drive myself to achieve feats that I know need to be achieved because I know that some feats need to be achieved.

A guy once asked me what my story was, (and I don't know if you are reading this now, but) here is the real answer:

I saw that some things needed to be done in the world, so I decided that I would do them. Even though I'm only a small person, I have to try.

In the meantime, I really should try to sleep. Apparently it is supposed to be good for you. Who knew?

***(Note to my grammatically inclined friends: Yes, I know that I probably have a ton and a half of run on sentences in this post, but at 4 am I couldn't care less.)***

Home

I had Tuesday off from work and the day couldn't have been more needed. There comes a point when you start to not just know that you have limits, but you see them and feel them. They stretch when you push against them like a thin rubber layer surrounding you. Over the last week or two I've been driving full force into them.

On Tuesday, I started to wonder if they would break. For all my efforts to reach out and make myself better I suddenly found myself feeling totally exposed. All of me seemed, in my eyes, to be on display for the world to see. Every decision, every fault, every part of my life that I haven't quite figured out what to do with yet.

In need of somewhere safe to go I turned to what has oddly become my comfort zone: travel. I went to Atlanta and explored the malls, but with the exception of a really awesome chair store there was nothing really worth note. Even the software in the apple store seemed oddly unappealing. It was late in the day when I headed to Rome. The open highway was nice and getting to surprise Scott was even better. That night I discovered a comfort zone that I didn't realize I had left at Berry, my friends. I knew they were there, but to sit down and to actually just be able to enjoy people's company without imposing on their time or having "something that we need to talk about" turned out to be something that I need.

Now, I've never been home sick, and you couldn't pay me enough to want to go back to school, but when I sat down and played a round of BS with Kaitlin, Scott and the others in Krannert it felt like home. I was more at home in that moment then I've probably been the whole time at home.

I guess the old adage is true when it says that it is the people who make the home.

I am still going to go out and stretch my boundaries, and knowing me I will eventually stretch them too far, but now I know where I feel at home.

My meditation room is behind the steering wheel.

My bedroom is wherever I may wake-up in peace.

My dining room is on a beat-up couch in a student center.

My home is wherever I am where I have friends that accept me as is and allow me to accept them for all that they are, and all that they can be.

I once told a man that I wanted to live a life without regrets. I still do. In the meantime though, it is good to know where home is.

Parallels...

Yesterday I was so sick that for most of the day speaking seemed like a luxury that I could not afford.  In the sleepless hours of the night, when I could not sleep for coughing and needing to blow my nose yet again,  my mind began to race over a hundred ideas that lay buried just beneath the surface of my consciousness on a normal day.  I know what I have to do, but a voice deep within seems to cry with the knowledge that the messenger is almost always the one who gets shot.

Is it any surprise that a night like that gave birth to a day like today, where suddenly I had no greater desire then to accomplish my insignificant projects that I still hope will build into something greater?  

Even recovering as I was, it seemed so worth while to stand in the heat of the blazing sun to hear the thoughts of a few people who I deeply respect, not because of what anyone says about them, but because of what no one can say about them.  It is strange to find that I miss hearing the thoughts of people who aren't afraid -- like I wish I wasn't afraid -- of what people think of them.  In their jokes and suggestions they seemed to justify all that I am aiming for right now.  They are not great people by most measures of greatness, but their lack of pretensions is refreshing.  

One more thing occurred to me last night.  A parallel between a speech made in Atlas Shrugged and a debate on tv about how the proposed health care plan would affect small businesses:

"This is the age of the common man, they tell us -- a title which any man may claim to the extent of such distinction as he has managed not to achieve.  He will rise to a rank of nobility by means of the effort he has failed to make, he well be honored for such virtue as he has not displayed, and he will be paid for the goods which he did not produce.  But we -- we who who must atone for the guilt of ability -- we will work to support him as he orders, with his pleasure as our only reward.  Since we have more to contribute, we will have the least to say."

Even as I reconsider the passage, I recall hearing a man who owned a company of no more then a hundred employees saying that businesses like his were not considered because he didn't have a lobbyist working for him.  These small businesses don't have men in Washington.  Just the representatives who they hoped would remember that these small employers "pay 44% of total U.S. private payroll" and "have generated 64% of net new jobs over the past 15 years."  I remember also how my dad sat and ranted yesterday about how Obama is doing this as someone with no understanding of the great crime he is attempting to commit because the man has never held a non-government job with the exception of a single professor's position in which he used  to mangle the constitution in front of classrooms full of students.

Is this the future that we were told to look forward to?  I cannot believe that this mockery he is making of the democratic process in a capitalist country will be allowed to go on.  I cannot believe that this is, and should be, the end result of years of "higher learning."  Such a thought seems inconceivable,  yet here we are with our paper degrees proud of what we know, while the philosophers sit on street corners and engineering minds flip burgers because they could not put up with the most terrible lie of all.  The lie that only those who never participate in any truly hard work within the material realm can believe with full conviction.  The lie that school, as it is now, is made to educate.  

Those columns that were once made of marble are plaster now, my friends.  The ivory halls are a facade, and unless you missed it, the gate of opportunity closed before we even arrived.  All these institutions seem capable of doing now is indoctrinating young people with flawed ideals and handing out those pieces of paper that undeniably prove that they can put up with whatever B.S. is thrown at them for at least 4 years.

Sorry for the tangent to education again though.  I guess it still irks me that I've learned more about business, health, finance, philosophy and psychology in my stolen moments away from "education" then I ever did in class.  (And to head of any comments on this last sentence, I read books like a fish drinks water when I'm not in school.)  I dunno...  I guess it works for some people... somehow...  We'll blame my A.D.D. that I don't understand how, at least for now.

What am I doing?

So, for all my talk about how I'm not at Berry this semester, I ended out deciding to make a visit on the first day of classes.  It was nice to see everybody again, even if half the people I saw thought I was still at Berry.  Ha ha.

In a way, I felt almost guilty knowing that I was there actually having fun while everybody else hurried to go to class, bought the overpriced books and came to the startling realization that their "fun class" had a 12 page syllabus.  I've been there, got the t-shirt, won't be going back.  

The unanimous questions among friends seem to be: Where have I been going this summer? And where am I going in the future?  

Big questions, and what can I say?  This summer I updated my blog about half as much as I did during the school year, but I still feel good about those posts that I did make.  I got a job with zero prestige, but I'll be making more this year then I was previously figuring on making with a degree.  (Money isn't the only consideration on the job though, presently the job is funding my artistic pursuits, and the funding is always low for such things.)  Besides that I've basically cooked a little and tried to catch-up with friends whenever possible.

So basically, I've been doing what I was trying to get away to do: I got away from the stresses of school for a while and sat down and asked myself some important questions.  What have I found?  Basically what I already knew more or less on some level anyway.  What I want to do with my life is make something beautiful that will change the world in a way that will help people to be better people.   Now, I just have to narrow that down from Milky Way sized to, oh I dunno, the size of Jupiter. 

I've been trying to figure out a direction, and while I still don't know where I'm going, I'm trying to do the next best thing and go with the decisions that feel right.  I have made some pretty good intuitive decisions in the past, and in the face of the one large generalization that I have about what I want to do with my life, intuition seems best.

So, what are my plans?  Short term, I'll continue to write, paint, cook, plan the wedding and get together with friends as often as possible.  Long term, I'll... do something that I can be proud of.  I just hope that I can meet my own high expectations of myself.  I am my own harshest critic and my own biggest fan.  As such, I refuse to do anything less then incredible with this short time that I have on this little blue, green planet.

"Be the change you wish to see in the world."  -Mahatma Gandhi

Why I'm not going back to Berry this semester

"You really need to think about going back to school soon," my uncle told me in his most serious voice today after lunch.  Funny, I don't think anyone realizes just how much they're asking when they suggest that I return to school.

Flash back to spring:  I'm packing up all my stuff in the dorm.  I run across a second doctor's prescription for anti-depressants.  It had never been filled and never would be.  I through it in the trash with a slight flash of a grin at what the school shrink would think if he knew what I did with all his prescriptions.

Things were going downhill fast at school.  I kept falling asleep in class as professors droned on about the same s*** that was taught in high school, and when I didn't fall asleep I just zoned out for the whole class time.  It wasn't even that I didn't care so much as I couldn't seem to find a reason to care about the constant review.

I wanted to do something, create something and see things, meet people, all that jazz.  I still do.  That is why, the night after I went swimming in the Ford fountains at 3 am, I decided that I was leaving college and wasn't coming back unless somebody gave me a damn good reason why college counts for then a piece of paper saying that you went to class, did the reading and managed not to sleep through the final.

3 months later I don't know what to do.  I have painted a few things, cooked a little, and even worked on my drawing skills, but nothing major has been accomplished.  I have simply satisfied the the minimum requirements for not getting kicked out of the house.  I am still looking for direction, but in the very least I know where I'm not going.  I am not going to endure another 2 years of mind numbing torture for a piece of paper.  

There is a better way, and I will find it.

That which you call your soul or spirit is your consciousness, and that which you call 'free will' is your mind's freedom to think or not, the only will you have, your only freedom, the choice that controls all the choices you make and determines your life and your character. 

-Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

Bzzzz...

Here are the results of my cake decorating class today.  

Not half bad for a first timer, huh?

On Reading

I am the slowest reader I know (outside of a few elementary school kids), yet again and again I've found that my slow reading speed allows me to pick up on details that my peers who read the same passages in as little as half the time often miss until they have re-read the passage two or three times.  Why is this?  Is the speed that I read at the key?

I've often wondered why professors do little but review the text in so many classes and why students seem to find the minor leaps in information, that could be easily obtained through a few moments' analysis, so surprising.  Perhaps this fault of analytical review lies not with students as much as it may be blamed on the way they were trained.

As students we have been told to complete our work quickly.  From the SAT to the Georgia High School Graduation Test to college testing, the speed at which a student is capable of reading and "analyzing" a block of text is made central to today's learning environment.  But how much analysis can be done when a student is allotted less then a minute to read a page if he wishes to have any time to work on the questions?

Richard Restak, M.D. attempted to explain how reading and analysis has changed over the years in a passage from his book Mozart's Brain and the Fighter Pilot where he describes the affect of the transition from reading aloud to silently as a societal norm:

While this transformation brought obvious advantages, it also resulted  in people's employing different speeds and rhythms for thinking, reading, and writing.  While this isn't always a bad thing[...] it can lead to stressful feelings and loss of focus.  At times, thoughts come faster than the thinker can put into words.  The manic patient's tortured complaint of a "racing mind" represents the extreme of this tendency.

Perhaps the reason why so few students comprehend what they have read in depth is because of this habit of reading passages faster then they can actually comprehend them.  Maybe the problem also branches from a simple misunderstanding of what it means to  truly read.  

According to dictionary.com, "read" is a verb that means "to look at carefully so as to understand the meaning of" or "to make out the significance of by scrutiny or observation."

What many of us find ourselves doing, and are all too often encouraged to do, is skim passages which is defined as "to read, study, consider, treat, etc., in a superficial or cursory manner."

So, the big question is this:  Are you reading or are you skimming?  Maybe we should all try reading a little more and skimming a little less.  Now I'm not saying that you can't skim over the directions on how to turn on your iPod, but maybe give the classics a real chance, read them.

Good luck and happy reading.

Proposals Gone Wrong

Well, I've been having some kind of iffy days lately, so I thought I'd share a little schadenfreude with y'all.

Enjoy not being these guys.  

Proposals Gone Wrong

Only the Good Die Young

In the midst of so many celebrity deaths (Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Billy Mays, etc.) a new study has come out to refute what parents have been lecturing on for so many years.  

As it turns out, according to this study the reason why many teens take part in risky behaviors is not because they think they are invincible.  According to this study's findings the reason why many teens take life threatening risks is because they are convinced that they will die young anyway.

This bit of news seems to goes heavily against common knowledge in many ways, but also seems to make more sense then the old idea.  

Personally when I heard this my thoughts went to something that my younger brother had said to this affect a few weeks back as we sat on the porch at 12 am trying to hash out what we are going to do in this next year.  He said that he doesn't expect to live to see a ripe old age.  Funny, I can't either.  Maybe its just the chronic nightmare.  I dunno...

My brother was the one who usually ignored whatever it was that "good boys" his age were supposed to be doing until I announced that I was "taking some time off from college."  Now he is doing what he is "supposed to" and applying for junior college.  An ironic choice of paths for someone with ADHD and authority issues.  I'm sure he can pull it off, but at what cost to his character?  He was considering the military before, but with me "misbehaving" I guess he decided to go for the path mom and dad have been pushing for.

I guess the study is a reflection of what happens to people at this age between 17 and 22.  We feel pressured to conform, and we either submit ourselves to the accepted path or say to hell with it and do our own thing.

I'm glad I opted out of what I'm supposed to be doing though.  While taking the path of least residence I got to feeling like Bilbo Baggins when his journeying days were coming to an end:

"I'm old, Gandalf. I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel... thin. Sort of stretched, like... butter scraped over too much bread. I need a holiday. A very long holiday. And I don't expect I shall return. In fact I mean not to."

On the other hand, now that I am attempting, though with no great success thus far, to do my own thing Thoreau comes to mind more often.

"I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours." 

Maybe I'll succeed, maybe I'll fail, but at least no one will be able to say that I haven't tried.

Click here for Billy Joel.

Will Work for Peanuts

I look up and watch the green sun drenched leaves stir slightly with the warm summer breeze.  I don't know where I'm going.  Then again, who does.  The "plan" for the moment is to try to kick butt at the job interview I have lined up for Tuesday.  

If I get the job, I'll be working with food again which can be super fun if the people in charge are even mildly intelligent or endlessly frustrating if they are convinced of any one of the hundred fallacies that come with the business.  I like working with food though, so maybe it'll work out.

The food thing works well with my "starving artist" results on so many career tests too because it is one of the few "art" careers where I probably wouldn't actually starve.  Ha ha.

I guess the point of this whole thing is that...  I don't know the point of this whole thing.  I want a job where I can be creative and have fun every now and then.  

It feels like senior year of high school all over again:  I want to cook and I want to write, but you can't major in both and it's pretty damn hard to do both considering neither one pays even decent unless you're hard core awesome.  

If I take this path toward cooking and writing then best case scenario I'll end out being awesome like Emeril, Rachel Ray, Guy Ferrari, etc.  Worst case scenario, I'll go broke and have to get an office job.  Sounds like a risk worth taking.

So raise your glasses, here's a toast to doing what you love even if it only pays peanuts.

Squirt bottle Correction

I put in my resignation last week.  Some times things just aren't meant to be.  This job was one of those things.  

It wasn't the work that made it a bad fit either.  I don't mind hard work.  What bothered me was the mentality that the management had about the work.  Observing the way they worked and tried to make things happen was so frighteningly anti-logical that I wanted to pull out a squirt bottle, spray them and say "No, bad manager."

I've found myself wanting to do this to more and more people lately.  Maybe it is my flaw that I want to train people like a bunch of puppies.  That I want to get rid of bad behaviors with a squirt bottle and a firm voice.  Maybe it would be good for them.  More likely they would think I was crazy.  I still kind of want to correct those behaviors before they prove to be detrimental to the guilty parties and the people around them.  I want to bring this change to them.

To the manager who gives a vague idea to employees of what they are supposed to do, then swiftly negates all employee suggestions at ways to be productive that don't fit perfectly within what is already being done at that office. 

*squirt* "No, bad manager."

To the professor who ignores the wide variety of learning styles and teaches in a way that only truly appeals to audio learners.  (Telling students to read the book does not count as covering the visual aspect.)  

*squirt* "No, bad professor."

To the salesman, co-worker who talks too much about the negatives of an otherwise good product before getting around why the person should actually care enough not to tune you out right then and there.  

*squirt* "No, bad salesman."

To the parent who upon learning that his/her child has made a major life decision that will hopefully make his/her life better asks about finances before anything else.  

*squirt* "No, bad parent."

To the person who never seems to appreciate a job that's been done and only looks at the job that needs to be done.  

*squirt* "No, bad person."

It is probably a good thing that I don't have a squirt bottle.  I might be tempted to actually use it then... even more so then now.

Grading the First 100 Days

So, Obama has made it through his first 100 days in office, and everyone seems to be asking how he did.  Lets itemize it and see.

Foreign Policy, B- He got us out of Iraq, but now we're stuck in Pakistan. Again.

Domestic Policy, C  Whose idea was it to continue bailing out Wall St?  Debt is bad for a country.  He is delving into a few of the tougher areas though, so kudos for that.

Fiscal Policy, F I repeat: Debt is bad.

Media Relations, A+ This is by far his strong suit.  Congrats.

Promises, B+ I'm impressed in this area as far as follow through goes, but there is still a long way to go.

____________________________________________________

Final Score: C+ Still room for improvement, but overall passable.

100 days down.  3 yrs. and some odd months left.  Lets bring those scores up Mr. President.

Hitting the Target

Funny, somehow it seems that earning "my keep" at home may be becoming the number one thing standing between me and finding what it is I need to do.  Then again, there is always something.  

*sigh*

Yesterday I learned how to shoot a hand gun.  Sort of, anyway.  The funny part was my dad was sitting there coaching me and coaching me.  Finally I told him to just be quiet for a min. so I could try it my way.  I hit a little high on the target, but at least I hit it....

Maybe I need to say the same for my life too.  

"Just a min, dad, let me try it my way for a bit."

A Comment on Society

I just felt the need to make a comment on some of the more recent "news" that is making headlines.

Susan Boyle is taking the world by storm, and while she may not be the prettiest woman on the planet, I don't think that is the real news of this whole affair.  The real news is that someone who doesn't look like an extra from Sex in the City has won over the world with her talent.

Congrats Susan.  You even made Simon act nice.

I have a map... I just don't know where I am.

Frankly, not only do I not know where I need to go right now, but I don't even know which way is North.  I've been doing the online applications thing of late, but I don't even know what I'll do when I find a job.  

I feel like a round peg.

The "normal" 9 to 5 work week is a square hole.

College is an triangular hole.

I don't fit in either, but what is a round peg to do?  I have to fit in somewhere, but all the things that I really enjoy doing seem to leave me with the idea of putting starving artist or hobo on my next W-2.

The good news is I've finally actually sat down to write a book.  It is idea 12 of 139.4.  It seemed like the easiest one to flesh out though, and I am a semi-expert on the topic, so this may work.  Or maybe not.  It is hard to say at this point.  All I have thus far is a massive outline and about 5 pages from the first section.  It is in severe need of editing, but it is out on my laptop.  It's a start.

Small steps...

Oh, and more good news!  My fiancee now has a blog, so go by and visit some time.  I think it's awesome, but then again I'm kinda biased. :P

What do you do with a BA in English... or Communication for that matter?

First off, props to Avenue Q.  It has some great songs. 

Secondly, I bare news.  I have decided to stop putting off the inevitable and go try to do something with my life and my talents.  (Limited though they are.)  So, I guess I may never know what one does with a B.A. because I'm opting out of the process in favor of doing something that I love.  Once I actually figure out a plausible way to make money from sketching, writing and acting as an unofficial tour guide...

The best part of the whole thing is the role reversal though.  For the last year or more I've been asking myself what the **** I was doing in a hyper structured system while the family told me how wonderful it was that I had submitted myself to that system.  Now the family is asking me what on earth I'm thinking to leave the well paved path, but I'm practically (and sometimes literally) jumping for joy to be able to move in the direction of my dreams.  

It's not much but it's a start.  And as my fiancee reminded me as I pulled out of Berry's parking lot, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." (Lao Tzo)  This is my first step.  I'm scared to death, and excited beyond reason.  This is going to be one hell of a journey.

What if.

What if I'm not meant to follow the "normal" path

What if I go another way

What if for once I get brave

What if I find a new game to play

What if it doesn't matter

If your right and I am wrong

What if it is time to move on

And write my own life's song

What if I succeed 

What if I fail

What if....

"Sometimes I worry about being a success in a mediocre world." -Lily Tomlin

Step 1: Remove alternative routes

I put myself in a position where I will have to find a better job and consider housing alternatives for next year in the near future.  It is time for me to move forward.  I will do things that make a difference.  

I will write the words the world reads.

Assume Survival Float

When floating in water for extended periods of time, it is important to remember the correct methodology for a survival float.  The survival float allows one to stay afloat for periods of time that would not be possible using other methods.

You may sink below the surface at times, but so long as you don't panic you will be okay.

It may seem like it is taking forever for help to arrive, but it is important to remain calm and continue floating.

Make sure to keep filling up your lungs all the way.

Relax.  Breath deep and don't panic.  Only 6 weeks left... then land and rest.

My life

I'm still trying to find a way out of this box I'm stuck in, and ran into an article in an old issue of Time on the subject.  Here is what it said:

So what do we learn from all this? Quit school? Go back to school? Walk away from our comfy, high-paying job? Run away to a Caribbean island? Bronson's subjects try all these solutions and more, but he has the good grace to spare us easy answers. The fact is, we already know from self-help gurus what to do. Follow your dreams. Never give up. Believe in yourself. The answers to the ultimate question are often cliches, and that doesn't mean they're wrong — they're just not very helpful. What's helpful is seeing that other people are trying too, even if they're failing.

Bronson is a fan of failure. "Failure's hard," he writes, "but success is far more dangerous. If you're successful at the wrong thing, the mix of praise and money and opportunity can lock you in forever." Bronson believes, and his stories prove, that failure is how you eliminate the wrong turns on the way to the right one.  -Hint: It's Not Plastics, by Lev Grossman, Time

But, this still leaves me asking what are my dreams?  Am I strong enough to still believe in myself when I have failed so many times before?

Now I'm sick too...

Last night was a long downhill battle.  

I lost.

Now I have what my fiancee had/has.  Fun, fun.  I am sitting here next to the medicine my roommate left out for me in the most comfortable chair that you can't sleep in and staring at the prompt that I was supposed to be writing about for class.  I can type fine, but my concentration is shot.

I need to go out for real food at some point.  Something more then applesauce and oatmeal anyway.  Food is good....

I demand all the vanilla lates I can drink.

If I were in the position to demand anything, this is what I would demand.

All the vanilla lates I can drink.
I need coffee. It is essential to the creative process. No coffee, no progress.

A truckload of Endangered Species Chocolate bars
Chocolate is important to life, and Endangered Species chocolate is the best.

A $500 gift certificate to Barnes & Noble
I need to know what the great thinkers thought. Plus, I have a reading list that's taller then me.

A year subscription to National Geographic
It's pretty, and I like to know about the world.

$500 worth of iTunes credits
I like to listen to music, and there are a lot of cds that I want to listen to that I don't have yet.

What do you demand?

Cold Cure

My fiancee was sick today, so I checked around for some good cold cures online.  Turns out that lemon ginger tea and chicken noodle soup with miso top the charts across the board.  Garlic also got good reviews.

Between the three, anybody's sinuses are sure to drain in no time.  

The hard part?  Convincing him that the ginger tea is worth it. 

Ethics in the Watchmen

Who will watch the watchmen?  Allan Moore asked in his acclaimed graphic novel, The Watchmen.

This graphic novel confronts a multitude of moral issues, and each character seems to have his own set of morals.  From Rorschach's absolutism to Ozymandias' utilitarianism, the novel seems to ask who is right?  And what do you believe?

Where do you fall on the spectrum?  Do you agree with Rorschach?  Or Ozymandias?  Or perhaps, Night Owl, who was torn between the arguably amoral method and the world changing result?  

Spoiler Alert!!!

Rorschach:  The Absolutist

Rorschach had strict moral values in the comic.  If a person killed another person, then they deserved to be punished.  Period.  No questions asked.  It didn't matter to Rorschach why somebody killed someone else.  To him it was wrong and he felt that it was his duty to right that wrong.  (On an interesting side note, Rorschach seemed to believe that the right punishment for murder was death, and he had no issues with killing murderers or others who he believed deserved the death sentence.)

Night Owl:  The Undecided

Night Owl took on the role of kind of the average guy.  (Or as average as superheroes ever get.)  He was obviously divided on the issue of punishment for wrongs and what precisely made something worthy of punishment.  Night Owl clearly expresses his opinion on what he thinks of Ozymandias' plan, but once it is carried out he decides not to do anything about it.  He seems to go with the idea that since the world is safe in that moment, the atrocities that made it safe should be ignored.

Ozymandias: The Utilitarian

Ozymandias took the extreme opposite approach to Rorschach's.  Ozymandias believed that killing was justifiable if it made way for a better end.  He was on the whole against violence, but he did, without a shadow of a doubt, go by the moral code of the greater good for the greater number.  He may have saved the world from another war.

Dr. Manhattan: The Hedonist?

Dr. Manhattan presents the biggest problem for this analysis.  He cared, but then didn't.  In the end though, he seemed to be motivated primarily by what interested him over anything else.  He liked to watch, to study, to examine problems, to understand...  This primary pursuit of the "interesting" leads me to place him in the hedonist bracket.  

The Silk Spectre: The Virtue-ist

The Silk Spectre seemed to apply the golden rule to everyone's actions as well as her own for most of the novel.  The Comedian was bad to her because he had not followed this rule.  Ozymandias was incomprehensible because of this.  Rorschach was strange.  Dr. Manhattan confused her.  Only Night Owl seemed to almost li

ne up with what she thought was right.  She wanted everybody to treat everyone else nicely, and when they didn't she found them at fault.

So, who was right?  Was anyone right?  And what would you do if you were in their super-shoes?

In defense of my vice: coffee

My number one vice is coffee.

Love Coffee by Ahmed Rabea

I've been drinking coffee on a regular basis since middle school when my mom first took me and my little brother to check out the new coffee shop in LaGrange, Higher Groundz. (Which is out of business now.) After that, I began drinking coffee on a weekly basis. By the time I was in high school I was drinking coffee several times a week.

Now that I'm in college, I drink coffee on a daily basis. I'm better then some and worse then some on this count. Of course, I've heard a hundred times over the reasons why I should ditch the coffee habit, but its not all bad, coffee does have some good points.

1) Coffee contains antioxidants that are proven to improve moods, and who doesn't want to feel a little happier?

2) Coffee is a great excuse to socialize! Can a question ever beat "Wanna meet for coffee?"

3) Coffee has been shown to improve focus and short term memory. No wonder so many great thinkers were known to spend a ton of time in coffee shops.

4) Coffee is good. :)

Sounds like I have a few good reasons not to kick the habit, doesn't it? Good, now stop hassling me about the caffeine. It's good for me.... errrr... sort of.

A Trip in Music

Here are my top 3 songs that I would like to be listening to on a big road trip... when I finally get around to going on one.

Life is a highway by Rascal Flatts

I know its cliched, but it is a really good, upbeat song to drive to. It keeps me awake and focused on the road and sounds fun. Those are important factors while on long road trips.

Be as by Simon and Milo

This song really speaks to me about the reasons to go and the need to get away. My favorite line goes
"Lisa just had to get away, Nothing could make her stay, Tired of living under cover. Everybody knows somebody trying to get free..."

Come back to Texas by Bowling for Soup

This song reminds me of home (GA, not TX, but still) and reminds me that I should say hey to the people there at some point. It also makes me laugh at some of the ridiculous reasons to go home. The reasons are even funnier because they are so true to life.

Is television bad for children?

Today's blog is brought to you by my contemporary persuasion class, and all the wonderful people in there that I will be speaking in front of today.

The Problem:
Children are watching large amounts of violent programing and are becoming violent themselves. This fact is clearly evidenced by the recent accidental killing involving a little boy who killed his sister when he practiced a wrestling move that he saw on tv on her.

Case study
Case study 2

Why is this happening?
Television does influence our actions, and it influences children even more then adults. Children mimic what they see on tv. Unfortunately, what they see on tv is fighting, shooting, stabbing and other forms of violence.Too many violent shows on television during hours when the most impressionable viewers are watching.

Family Guy example

What can we do about it?
Some special interest groups are advocating safe times when major stations will cut down on violent programing during times when more children are watching. The focus for this method is on the hours when children are just arriving home from school.

Another way to protect children from the effects of violent programing, is to make easier and more readily available parental controls for televisions. This form of parental control was the goal of the Telecommunications Act of 1996 that made it a requirement for television makers to install a chip that would block violent programing using a rating system that the networks devised.

"Most critic[s] feel that the V-chip, a form of rating system, will fail in its effectiveness to monitor children as it has a proven history of failure in the past. Ratings such as "NC-17" had to be changed from "XXX", simply because it was becoming a symbol in modern culture, and became more of a right of passage for youth, rather than a deterrent." -Through the Wires

Die laughing...

I've heard of several neat pranks, but the best that I've seen have been at college.

24072007(003) by miikkahoo

My favorite on campus prank that I've seen was a surprisingly simple one:

It was midterms time during my freshman year when I walked by the science building and saw this prank sitting on the sidewalk. Somebody had traced a body outline in splayed, crime scene fashion on the sidewalk next to the place where a piece of fruit had exploded earlier in the week. The effect was great.

It was kinda funny in a I-really-shouldn't-be-laughing-at-this sort of way. It was well timed too because it really made use of the pressure of that part of the semester.

I actually heard some people asking what had happened! It looked real enough to make people wonder, but was low key enough that nobody bothered to clean it off, so it lasted until it rained.

***Nobody actually died. The campus is so small that if somebody stubs their toe on one end of campus, you'll know about it on the other side of campus before they get back to their dorm room. Plus, while the prankster's use of chalkboard chalk for the outline was probably seemed like a good idea, I'm fairly sure that the police use something a little more affective at marking the lines at crime scenes.***

Rut

I've been very conflicted about where I'm going lately.  I distract myself and deflect, but I can't help but realize that this process of sitting in dark rooms, listening to professors go on and on with their favorite process, repetition.  

So much...

...stagnation...

...here.

I can't stretch here.  I can't grow.  I can barely move.  This is hell on earth for me.  This forced attention to details that I'm only trying to make myself care about.  This isn't going to work.  I'm leaving.  

Only a few questions remain:

1. When?
2. Where will I go?
3. How will will I explain to the family?

I know that I am going though and have a rough idea of what I will do when I get there.  At least its a start.

Three overplayed songs I love anyway

A few songs that I've probably heard one too many times, but I still love them as much I did the first time I heard them. (Probably more.)

Iris by Goo Goo Dolls

It's a love, hate relationship. I love the song, yet I want to hate it because it is so overplayed.

Rock Star by Smash Mouth

I know this song forward, backward and sideways. I even have a rough sketch of how it can be played on piano at home... somewhere.

Only the Good Die Young by Billy Joel

It seems like this song comes on every third time I get in my car, but I still belt out the lyrics and turn up the radio every time it plays.

Gadgets that might be nice...

I write a good bit and get lost at least once a week, so you would think that the item at the top of my gadget wish list right now would be something to make writing even easier or a GPS or something along those lines. Those are almost too logical of choices though, and thus are wrong. If I were to buy a new piece of technology right now it would be one of two things:

1) A sketch pad for the computer so that I can still make messy outlines with lots of arrows, but they won't get lost under five layers of returned assignments from classes, or

2) A program that easily enables a free flow of ideas, to do lists, system references and charts. (I saw one that I really liked but it was uber expensive, so not happening...)

These are just maybe, at some points though for now due to my limited funds.... Until then I'll stick with my present method of writing things out on paper the old school way. The good news? I get to make lots of use of my sharpies. Yay for coloring!

***This is my first post using a new program called Plinky that has questions of the day. I'll be trying out a few of the prompts now and then to fill some of the gaps in my regular blogging.***

Planning

So, it is decided:  I am going to do something else.  But what?  For how long?  Where?

I have a hundred questions for myself, so I resigned to do what I do every time I am faced with an overwhelming decision... I try to learn something.  

It's ironic how the main part of my problem solving method involves me distancing myself from the problem at hand.

4 hours in and I just realized that after all those "exercises" and all that reading, I can now design a black and white version of my first myspace page.  (Okay, so a few other elements might be lacking, but the basic format remains the same.)  It is kind of thrilling and depressing to learn what is hard and what is just ridiculously easy.

It makes you think about what goes into the pages that you look at online too.  Just click View/View Source on a web page and suddenly the long lines of code become visible. It makes me realize something important: I want to be able to type html on pages, but I'm glad that I don't to have to type in html every time I type something online.  

If it came to that, then this blog probably wouldn't exist.   I would have gotten annoyed at a misplaced tag somewhere or another and moved away from the system very early on.  The first post probably never would have gone up.  (Not that anyone actually read the first post, but that is another story entirely.  The point is that I wouldn't be typing this now.)

In the end, I find myself thinking back to Hamlet's famous question and rephrasing it for today:

To html, or not to html?  That is the question.

Thought of the Day

I'm doing things that are more artistic again, more close to the material that I love. I don't disparage those things that I did. They're just not as much reflective of who I am. 

-Mira Sorvino, actress (Romy and Michele's High School Reunion)

Last Semester

I'm going to cut down on my college course load.  More and more this "education" is beginning to seem like just another bureaucracy.  Its just really this long (dare I say pointless?) process for what?  A piece of paper that says you went to class and turned in something requiring a mediocre effort.  

*sigh*

This may be my last semester.  I stress too much over busy work, and the busy work is not worth the stress.  

For once I may actually be following a doctor's orders:  The doctor told me to get rid of the big things that were stressing me out.  Roughly a year later,  I'm putting together a plan to get out of college, the biggest stress-er I have ever met.  Give me belligerent idiots, give me fighting, give me the midnight shift (I'm up anyway), give me a job where I'm overworked and underpaid, just don't make me spend one more semester in these halls of "higher learning."  

I need to be able to move and learn and grow, and for me, college just isn't the place to do that.  

I need to escape.  

I need a change.