![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2){kind=small}
 | 1:15 PM - This Halloween, I’m Going as "Heartbroken."
I normally have class at 1:00p. I sat there from 12:40 until about 1:00 before another student came in and said something about us not having class until 2 today. Then I remembered. Not sure how I feel about that. I engaged in retail therapy this morning---my favorite kind. I had a doctor's appointment that didn't go to well. It involves exploratory surgery to confirm a crappy diagnosis. Whatever. I'll wait til after the new year to be sliced open, thanks. I am not happy. It would be much easier if the cafeteria allowed you to pick your own fruit. I buy these fresh fruit cups, then I eat the cantaloupe and grapes and throw out the rest. What a waste. Plus I want more cantaloupe and grapes. I can tolerate the honeydew, but you can keep your pineapple and whatever this seriously strong tasting yellow crap is. It's like a plague, contaminating the rest of the fruit with its overbearingness. Is it time for vacation yet? At least Erik and I get a day of fun before the semester even ends. Only another 10 days until Atlantic City. During my retail therapy excursion this morning, I got a happy little surprise that normally would have caused me elation, but instead leveled me out because I was feeling so crappy. Forever 21 was having a huge sale... I was skeptical. I always go in, but the stuff is so small and they carry no XLs. I thought, however, what the hell.. I can wear a large just about everywhere now. I so I went in to partake in this sale of theirs. Well, not only can I wear their large, I can squeeze into a lot of their mediums; in a couple of shirts, like the one I am wearing now, the medium is actually the size that fit because the large was too baggy. Do you wonderful readers out there understand how phenomenal this is? I was in a 4 X. FOUR! and now I can wear a medium! I was just in that store right before summer with Vanessa and I everything was way too small! Eee! I also put on my 16 regulars (non-plus) from Old Navy this morning that I had been hiding because they never fit. I am not a plus-size woman, but a chunky regular-sized woman! That has finally sunk in just today. And it feels so unbelievably incredible. I made up a new happy dance that I do when I lose a pound or wear a new size, and it's a dance I couldn't do when I was obese---It's sort of a "special" Irish Jig. But none of you shall ever see it. I will see to that. A minimum of 73 lbs left to go... that's nothing when you've already lost 133... but I won't complain if I actually lose, say, another 88 lbs instead of 73 :-)
Happy and sad today. Happy and sad. Same bat time, same bat channel boys and girls.
<3m |
contemplative - Mood:
contemplative
(me)"Simba wants to know if he can bring his bff Jill to Atlantic City."
"ERROR. Cannot Divide by Stupid Question"
"...Why is it stupid? The cat simply wants to know if he can bring his bff Jill when we go to Atlantic City."
"ERROR. Cannot Divide by Stupid Question. Cannot Subtract by Stupid Statement................. Irrational."
We also managed to decide that if we made 10 apple pi s, and mashed them all up into one pi, it would still be pi, but our pi would actually be larger than pi... given that our 1 pi would actually be 12pi. Initially we thought if we tried this the oven might explode, but in thinking about it further we realized that the world may actually implode. If we try this, we need to have McGyver standing by with a paper clip, a a rubber band and a pen.
Wanted to make sure I documented these late night mathematical absurdities!
I have a case of the Mondays, and today is the type of day where I feel like everybody has stolen my stapler :-(
I should mention that today is, in fact, Sunday. This could be problematic.
I could not sleep. To save. My life. Sure, I slept from 6p-9p last night... but then I got up and worked on homework until 130a, and could not go back to sleep. I tossed and turned until my alarm went off at 5:30a so I could come in early. I nearly cried.
Half way here, I realized I forgot to bring in the laptop for my coworkers to use. Either Erik will bring it down, or I will have to run home and get it after work and come back.
I decided on the way here that I would stop and get an iced coffee, which was badly needed since I barely remember the drive here. I was almost to Dunkin Donuts... when I realized that my wallet was in my backpack. At home. On the floor.
I need to read some of the 140ish pages I have left in Frankl for this week; but I can't even make sense of life right now.
I need to find at LEAST one Sunday to take off and go to the Buddhist temple for participant observation during services. Don't ask me when the fuck that's going to happen... there's nobody to work.
Very choppy and fairly random post. Yes. But for some reason my thoughts are coming across clearer as typed words than they are in my head...............
OMG SLEEP PLZ KTHX
-ugh-
- Mood:
exhausted
Most of this is for MK, because I just realized that I work until midnight and will not get to finish talking to her until the end of time... or until Sunday at least, which ever comes first. I am, however, going to start at the beginning.
We were supposed to go to NYC to see Mel ("sis") and Minibar and Pete Yorn. Admittedly, it has been set up for months. Mel was talking about all these other people she was meeting there, and I just had a bad feeling about her actions and how things were going to be in NYC. This trip was costing us a fortune. She said we needed to buy our own tickets-- "just as a way to get in, then we will all go backstage [like we did in philly]." The tickets were $125 together. The hotel was costing us $250.
So last Friday, I tried to bail. I just had a bad feeling and I was not comfortable with the way things were going. I said this ambiguously and cited money as the reason for not wanting to take this risk. The thing is, she's a rich L.A. girl who jetsets all around the country--she doesn't understand the concept of "I'm cutting back on groceries to visit your ass in NYC." She is also flakey. Once, I was set to go out to Cali to see her for a little while. This was some years back. Everything was all set and it was getting close.. and she cancelled! We could not get our money back from Continental Airlines, but thankfully they gave us a $400 credit.. and later that year I used the money to go to Texas. Would you believe she claims to not even remember this?
Back on point. I said I did not want to spend the money on the hotel and tix, but that Erik and I would still come up Friday and have lunch with her and see her off at the airport. She fucking lost her mind. She was saying some really, really terrible things to me. I was actually at work for part of this, b/c boss-lady had said I needed to work the midnight shift but she was wrong. Thank goodness I didn't need to stay, because I was near tears over the stupid shit she was saying. I did not want to lose a friend, so I decided to keep the peace by *lying* to her. I told her it was just insecurities over being around her rich friends, that I was sorry (!), and that nevermind, we would still go. She was still weird after that.
So I'm not so excited about that whole part, but I was really excited to go to NYC with Erik. Huge pain in the ass; getting him to work at 0600, picking him back up at 2pm, making the bus, etc. But w/e. So all goes well and we enter NYC. I call her and she does not pick up. I text her and it takes her forever to text back. She tells us to just go to the venue (doors at 7) and she would meet us there. She communicated so little. So we get there, walking around like idiots with her birthday presents. We wait. I message her a bunch more, and she says she won't be there until after 8 (show started at 8) so to just find our seats and she would find us. I figured she really would, because she purposely bought her friend Ness's ticket right next to ours. So we went up to our seats... only to find that we were in almost the last row of the upper balcony. Very high up. I have a serious, serious phobia of heights. I began having a major panic attack, which I almost never get. I all but crawled up the non-railing'd stairs, sat in my seat, faced the back wall, and fought back both tears and vomit. This was at about 8pm. Sat through the opening act. Messaged her a bunch. Never heard back. At 9 she finally responded that PY was going to be on in 5 minutes.. I was like, "you're *here*?" She never said anything. I figured she was still running late. I figured Ness would need to get to her seat if they were there. So w/e, she again never msged me back. I sat through the whole PY set, still having a panic attack. Mind you this is over two hours of heights/panicking and by this point I feel like I would just rather die than sit on this balcony another minute. So at 10 I message her and say, I am going downstairs.
She and Ness met us down there.. wearing backstage passes? I was livid. I purposely told her I did not want to purchase tickets if I was not going to see her, and she insisted that was not going to happen. What a fucking waste of my money. Like I knew it would be. w/e. We talked for a few, I gave her her bags and something for Sid, and told her I could not stay on that balcony. I told her Erik and I were going to go wander around but we would stay in the area. She seemed pissy about it but again, w/e. So she literally promised that of course she would message me when the show was over, and we would all meet up. She seemed genuinely concerned. So we left and hung around the area.
We went to this nice little dive bar on 74th and Amsterdam I think it was (contradiction, I know). We ate dinner at this restaurant that pissed me off at 76th and Amsterdam. All right next to the back of the theater. I am messaging her. Still nothing. We are done by 1130, and we sit outside the back of the Beacon on a bench, waiting. The show let at out exactly 1147. I messaged her a million times. I did not want to leave, because I did not want to upset her highness again. Erik and I sat outside the Beacon until 115 in the morning...... for almost two hours. I was heartbroken and livid. We had another drink at said dive bar, and we caught a cab back to the hotel. The hotel bar was closed, and I was not ready to go back to bed... so we headed for Times Square.
This is where the good parts begin, at least. I'm really glad that she was a fucking flake, because Erik and I had an amazing night. (Thank god, because I was in the mood from hell. Poor Erik.) It was like 2 AM, but thankfully NYC never sleeps! We had our pictures drawn by a street artist in front of the Marriot Marquis. While the artist was drawing Erik after I had been drawn, a guy in a horse-drawn carriage stopped and asked if we wanted a ride. Truth be told, I really did---I kept looking at the horses while the artist was drawing me, and he was getting annoyed. LOL. I said we couldn't yet though, because Erik was just beginning to be drawn. He said he would wait if I promised to ride with him. He was genuinely a nice guy, not creepy. I agreed, so he let the horse eat while Erik was drawn. Then we hopped in.
It was 230 in the morning and it was perfect. It was actually kind of cold out because it was drizzling. There were almost no people out walking around. There were very few cars, and the few that were were mostly taxis. We saw Rockefeller Center, 5th Ave , Madison Ave, The Ave of the Americas... all quite and deserted. I was so content. The horse and carriage ride made my night. My favourite picture from the whole trip is the one the driver took of us and printed for us.
So by like 315 we were back in Times Square, and we wandered back to the hotel. I was so tired that I simply passed out.
The next morning, we had an amazing breakfast at this hotel around the corner from ours. It was the best breakfast I had ever eaten, in this little French restaurant on 8th avenue. It was POURING out at some points, but for some reason I was loving the weather. It was really windy and cold, too. I'm strange. So anyway, we went to the wax museum and took tons of pictures. We walked a large part of the length of 5th avenue and went into a lot of stores. I'm pretty sure Saks is where good shopaholics go when they die. It was heavenly. We got a couple shirts at Armani Exchange (they fit!) and I naturally went crazy in the Disney store.
We walked back to Times Square and took it in a bit more. We had a GREAT dinner at this Irish Pub with fantastic Shepherd's Pie. Mmmbop came on and I danced. (hahaha.) We stopped at the Virgin Store where I grabbed a discman and a few old-school CDs for the bus ride home. We hit up starbucks... then went and picked up our bags :( And then the doorman flagged us the cab of near-death. I thought for sure this guy was going to get us all killed. We made it to Port Authority in one piece, however... and got there just in time to catch the 7pm bus at about 658. Then we left New York :(
The thing with Mel just could not have come at worse time. I had all but cried myself to sleep the night before. I went to see a specialist on Wednesday, who had diagnosed me with yet another autoimmune disease. The good news, if you want to call it that, is that this new disease/disorder has mostly only cosmetic effects (that could make me look like a freak). The bad news, is that these diseases apparently tend to come in clusters--meaning that if your immune system is so fucked up that it is attacking itself, it does it in more than one manner or with more than one result. He said that my "ideopathic" thrombocytopenia is likely autoimmune thrombocytopenia. Which means I am much more likely to relapse. He is the third doctor to suggest Metabolic Syndrome, or Insulin Resistance. He is the third doctor to insist I see an endocrinologist ASAP.
I was just a wreck. How many more autoimmune diseases/disorders am I going to be diagnosed with, then? What else is going to happen to me? And it seems as though every time I see a doctor, I am told that becoming pregnant is even more dangerous to me than I had thought previously. And what if I pass these issues on to my children? I was crying my head off when Erik came home. I always wanted at least two children. At this point, I am putting my life in danger getting pregnant... doing it twice, if I can even get pregnant, carry full-term, and deliver safely even once, seems pretty irresponsible. Not to mention, my OB-GYN sat down with me and explained that when Erik and I do make that decision, I am going to require an entire team of doctors overseeing my entire pregnancy and every move--an OB-GYN, a hemaologist, a family doctor, and an endocrinologist. The medical bills would/will be insane.
So I was already feeling pretty down when Mel decided to pull that crap.
And by the way, she messaged me at FOUR PM the next day to ask ME what the hell happened; apparently, she "messaged" me a "ton" of times, I just never "got them." Right.
But like I said, I had a beautiful Friday, starting at 2AM, with Erik.... it even made me forget about all the health stuff, for a little while.
I should get to work.
Oh, and here are the photos from NYC:
http://community.webshots.com/album/5602
-m
- Mood:
blah
Current mood: 
amused
I bet my 4 readers are excited that I am working the overnight shifts this week. It means I write in here.. a lot.
So, there actually is a point to my title. This morning, I booked my NYC hotel with hotels.com (over the phone, ironically). It was for this really nice hotel near Times Square. Their price was $236.00, and they only had 3 rooms left at that price. Regular price for the king bed room was like $310.00, and it was a 3.5 star hotel with a 4.1/5 rating by previous guests, so I was like alright, I need to take this deal before it is sold out.
Later in the day, I was playing around on the hotel's website and gushing about how gorgeous it is and how relatively posh it seems. Then, I saw something that said "Lowest Price GUARANTEED!" Naturally curious, I clicked.
It went on to explain that if you find a bookable rate on any other website that beats the price they offer, they will match it. The only restriction it named was that the price MUST be able to be proven and bookable. I checked on hotels.com, and there was 1 room left at the $236.00 price. I thought perhaps I could circumvent the hotels.com fees, so I called the hotel booking line.
I was then told that it was a special promotion by hotels.com and that they can not match $236.00.
Then what the fuck is the point of having a "guarantee"?
Guarantee(noun):
1: something that assures a particular outcome or condition
Guarantee(verb):
1: to promise
2: to make oneself answerable for (something)
...So, I reiterate, what is the point of posting something like that and entitling it a "Guarantee"? Perhaps they should just say, "If you find a better price elsewhere on the web, we will take it into consideration and possibly provide you with a comparable quote."
Just my thoughts on it.
Thoughts on a "man skill"?
Mary Kathryn said that this is something that men do. I think she was mostly joking, but I can't help but wonder.
Every year at Christmas or Erik's birthday, I try to come up with some fantastic plan to do something for him or get something for him that will make him very happy. But then every year at Christmas or his birthday, he gets antsy about the very thing I have unbeknownst to him come up with, and insists he is going to take matters into his own hands.
For example, he wanted an electric razor. He wanted one and decided he wanted one NOW, around Christmas. I had to ask him to wait until Christmas and then he knew I was getting him one, so whatever.
This year, I was going to buy him a nice watch. No worries---he knows now. I was pretty proud of myself for the idea, and I knew he would be happy. It was going to be a complete surprise, as there was no talk about watches anytime in recent history. So anyway, tonight, out of NOWHERE, he starts freaking out about how he wishes he had a nice watch to wear to NYC (hey, me too). I try to ignore it. I started thinking about it and figured I would just get his watch early and give it to him as an early birthday present for NYC. Then he gets out his old Quicksilver semi-OK one that I bought him when I was like, 16? and he was like forget it, I'll just get a buy a battery for this one and wear it. I don't know if I'll stop tomorrow, maybe I will, etc, etc. I was we'll do it after NYC. And he has a shit fit. He wants a watch for NYC. "Can we just shelve this watch idea for now?" "NO! I WANT to know, WHY can't I have a watch to wear in NYC!??!" etc etc. So finally I just geek and yell,
"I WAS GOING TO BUY YOU A FUCKING WATCH FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY!"
...silence.
"You didn't have to tell me, you know. You could have just said, uh huh, OK, I'll take care of it, and I would have let it go."
!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's uncanny, his ability to unveil his birthday plans.
At least he doesn't know everything.
(yet).
Maybe it's just part of my birthday/holiday curse. If you read yesterday's blog about birthdays, perhaps it is just an extension of that curse. Who knows.
Soooo now tomorrow, I am going to run up to Tannersville to see if I can find him a nice watch up there before NYC.
Note to Jenna: No worries, we are still going up there! Except that now they moved freaking MED TRAINING to the 15th instead of the 8th. The day we were going to go. So it seems we may have to rethink this. 
My husband is comedic. Tonight, MK and I were briefly discussing clothes, and The Gap, etc. There was this beautiful denim crop jacket from the (red) line that I wanted when we were there on Wednesday (I think it was Wednesday.) Normally $98.00, it was on sale for like $44. It was cute, and I wanted it. I tried it on; it was a tad tight yet, but gorgeous. Erik, however, HATES cropped tops. I don't know what his beef is with them. I'm actually wearing a crop tie-front shirt tonight over a tank top, and he was picking on me for that too. I own a white-denim crop jacket, and he pokes fun at me for that.
So I was complaining to MK about the crop jacket, and he says,
"Do you know why that jacket was half price!?! BECAUSE IT'S HALF A JACKET!!!!"
I nearly died.
The jacket, by the way, is now about $34.00 on gap.com... and he said, "If you really want it, order it."
So I did.
I don't think I have much else to say tonight, thankfully for you all.
Until later.... same bat time, same bat channel....
<3m
- Mood:
amused
4:21 AM - Modesty is the best policy.
Current mood: 
annoyed
I am at work, completely and utterly bored, at 0430. It was not so bad when Bear was on, and when sis was on, and there was also an entertaining interruption. All of that is over now, however, and I am quite bored.
I turn 22 in less than two months. Not sure how I feel about that. I remember around graduation time telling MK that it feels like my "descent into oblivion." It still does. I think I may know why.
In lifespan or human dev psych, it is explained that at a certain point--in the age of 40s and 50s, I think--one switches from the thought of self as "time since birth" to "time until death." For some reason, I have never thought of myself in the terms of "time since birth," except when it comes to verbalizing my age. Otherwise, in my own mind, I always feel like death and old age are looming. I have felt this way since I was easily 4 years old. Most of you--particularly those of you with any knowledge of child dev--probably think I'm full of shit. But I was a very strange child. It was around that same age I began to ponder The Big Bang Theory vs God creating the universe. Preschool. (I started Kindergarten at age 4.5). I can remember it so well. I was a tad "gifted," shall we say? Don't ask me what happened in the meantime.
Regardless, I have had that fear of death and sense of old age/death looming over my head since before Kindergarten. I used to cry to my mother as a child because I did not understand why I was having such thoughts. I had recurring nightmares. It was just terrible. The nightmares stopped when she passed away... strangely enough. But I have still always had those awful feelings and fears.
So I think, with the lack of young-adult milestones remaining for me, that it only magnifies that fear. 22 to me feels like what I imagine 35 feels for most people. I don't even want to know what 35 will feel like for me.
Partially because of all these things---and being married---I feel so behind. I feel like I should already be working on my Master's (which, theoretically, I could be. It's my own damn fault that I am behind). I feel like I should already own a house, be stable, have children. And NOT being financially stable and NOT having these things makes me that much more anxious and unsettled, because I cannot chalk it up to youth. I do not feel young. I am not young.
Really, I don't think I have ever been young.
Moving on, every birthday I have ever had has basically sucked, save for the occasional childhood birthday party that was worth it's money. My Sweet 16 did not seem bad at the time; however, I no longer look at it the same way---the idea of 50 drunk people crammed into my tiny house for a party I threw my sorry self no longer appeals to me as something that was worth while.
Last year's birthday, my 21st to boot, took the "this fucking sucks" cake, however. I will grant you, I had been out of the hospital for a whole 24 hours!!; I was, however, still extremely and dangerously ill, and the one drink I had on my birthday interacted horribly with my 100mg/day Prednisone and I stayed up all night freaking out because I felt like I was going to die.
That, my friends, took the "this fucking sucks" birthday cake.
I can think of two that did not suck: the one where Erik proposed to me a few days earlier (17th)..... I lie. I think that may have been the only one that didn't suck. I can't really remember what Erik and I have done for the other 4 birthdays besides 17 and 21, but perhaps that is the point. If I remember right, I think 18 was the runner up for the "this fucking sucks" birthday cake... perhaps it is something about milestone birthdays. If that is the case, I don't want to turn 25. Car insurance rates go down, and I would hate to provide fate with another reason and another opportunity to fuck with me. (I will grant you that I know nothing about birthdays birth-3yo; however, I know my family, most particularly my father, and I can all but assure all my readers that those birthdays sucked just as much as the conscious ones.)
So, this year, I would really like to make up for 21 years of relatively shitty bithdays. I, however, have no ideas. I am poor, and two of my best friends live 2 and 3 thousand miles from me.
If anyone has any ideas..... consider this an open forum.
I have nothing more to say at the moment... so, until later,
<3m
- Mood:
annoyed
I realize that you are starving, little African tots with bloated bellies. Understand, however, that it was much more important we spend millions of dollars confirming that smoking marijuana may damage your lungs.
I'm not joking, people. THIS *groundbreaking* study and the article that cites it, "Smoking Pot May Damage Lungs," are featured on WebMD.
Oh my GOD!
It does what??
Shit, they waited long enough to tell us.
Honestly. Is this redundancy necessary? How much money was spent on the urine tests, state-of-the-art CT scans, in monies to the participants (339 of them!), to the researchers, and so on and so forth, to find out that SMOKING POT DAMAGES YOUR LUNGS? Please forgive my outrage. I can deal with many things, but million dollar redundancies is not one of them.
Moving on...
I am exhausted, physically and mentally. I have been working insane hours and will continue to do so until the day I leave for NYC. Then when I get back, I hardly work at all until I go back to school. (*knocks on wood*).
Not much else has happened this summer. D is in Florida and I am surpremely jealous. It is alright though, as we will all move there together in less than two years! In the meantime, I hope he is adding an extra story on his sand castle for me.
Saw Minibar and PY at CrocRock on 7/25. Accidentally got obliterated, almost as badly as at my little graduation celebration... but no worries D&Shellz, not QUITE as bad. I was able to hold down food. Minibar was awesome and I loved the show, and I needed a night out quite badly. In fact, I could use another (or 10).
So we will see Minibar and PY again in New York City on the 9th (I think we're going to the show?). I can't wait. I can't wait to see Mel again! Eek, it's been since March! I have never been in the city except for a few broadway shows and a little dinner cruise around Manhatten, and that was many years ago. I have never seen Times Square or all of the neat little things in that area. So I am very excited to finally wander around the city a little bit! Hopefully I am not so hungover that I cannot enjoy myself.
Oh my goodness, with these MySpace emails. I do not want free ringtones. I do not want to re-finance my non-existant mortgage, and I have no interest in your free singles site. I don't need glitter graphics for my page kthx, and if you really DID read my profile and like it so much, you would notice that I do not like poor grammar and will only delete your dumbass e-mail as soon as I receive it. In short, LEAVE ME ALONE!
I am very upset tonight over a situation one of my best friends is going through. It's not her, it is somebody she knows and was close with. I just want to say that mental illness is not something that should be blamed on anybody, because it is not a "mistake" or an "accident." For parents to blame a child (albeit a young-adult-child, but I could not think of another word for child) for their mental illness and subsequently punish them is downright disgusting. It's wrong, and anyone who does such a thing should be tarred, feathered, and hung off of the empire state building by floss tied to their pinky toe. I have no tolerance for such disgusting people. It's unthinkable. They ought to be ashamed. But I am quite sure they are not.
Oh well. Anyway. In general, I'm really happy. Exhausted...... but happy. And with only 155 days until Disney, time is flying by.... which means hopefully before you know it, we will be packing up a moving van, destination Florida...
I was hoping blogging would keep me awake, but I have nothing else to say tonight (that I can think of) and have grown bored with it. So until next time, people......
<3 m
- Mood: cynical
Monday, April 24, 2006
| 3:51 AM - READ THIS BLOG!! AAARGH
Message no. 6176
HOW DO THESE PEOPLE GET INTO COLLEGE!??! (I only mean the one girl, KY, and people like her in GENERAL. The other chick's cool.) |
angry Friday, July 07, 2006
| 4:23 PM - My Personal Philosophy (repost)
I am not sure that what I have learned has necessarily changed how I feel; but rather, I believe that what I have learned this semester has clarified (for myself) how I feel. The one thing I will always continue to struggle with, despite my solid belief in this theory, is John Locke's Tabula Rasa vs. my experience. My own example cannot sway me from my belief that children are born blank. Almost everything else in my experience concurs with it. However, having turned out so different from my family, I have to wonder how it all happened. I think about and verbalize this a lot. As recent as yesterday, I thought about how I am always overly polite with people. I use sir and ma'am a lot, something people that my age rarely ever do. I have even received laughs from friends parents for calling them sir and ma'am! Its just something that people are becoming less and less used to, and I certainly did not learn it from my father! He is one of the rudest people on this earth; and its not his fault, its the way he was raised. So then how does one explain me? How does one explain our complete and utter differences, from the core to the superficial? The only thing I know for 100% certain is that I wasnt adopted! As for my view of the world and what it is made of, this course has given me a name and specificity to my beliefs. All I could figure to say before about my views was that they were extremely, if not overly, scientific. I did not know how else to particularly describe them. I understand now that my views on the world and its makeup are materialistic, and now I understand that word to mean more than just a love of superficial possessions. I also feel more solid in my beliefs after this course; more solid in my beliefs of a materialistic world, and of the non-presence of God. One thing I know I mentioned in my first paper, because I struggle with this too, is my hypocrisy--and I know that that particular aspect has worsened. My fear of death is so strong, that I still worry about there actually being a God, and praying to him even though it wouldnt make a difference either way, given my lack of belief. Part of me wishes I could believe in God, and part of me doesn't. I know that if I truly believed in God, I would probably be much more careful about the tiny specific things I do such as curse, drink alcohol, etcetera. I also know that such a belief might ease my fear about death, even if just a tiny bit. However, such a belief in God may cause me to stop doing things that I enjoy, such as listening to certain music (depending on how seriously I took the religion), being able to drink occasionally, and laugh at jokes that I find very funny! While I believe that we do have the correct form of government in place, and the system works well, I still believe that the people in the government and the people in this society are extremely corrupt. A lot of things happen in this society that are becoming norms, and they shouldnt be. When we see a governor or a senator committing a criminal act, we should feel something! Shock, surprise, outrage--any of these emotions would fit! However, most of us are numbed to such things and simply shake our heads in disappointment. Disappointment almost assumes acceptance; "I accept that this has happened, but I don't like it". Then theres the corruption that our society doesn't even shake its collective head at: the media. I feel, and will likely always feel, very strongly about the lows that the media has taken There are so many wholesome things that families used to do together, that just rarely occur anymore. Where's family game night? Where's family movie night? The family trips to the local playground? Every family member is now way too involved in their own lives; something else that we as a collective society have come to tolerate. And the religious families, they think that church on Sunday, and maybe dinner afterwards is enough to cover this gap. Oftentimes, theyre the same families doing outrageous things separately Monday through Saturday, from adultery to embezzlement! There comes my own understanding of the problem with my own belief, relativism. If every family wants to believe that trashy teen shows on the WB are alright, and just a sign of the times, then that's their right. If family members want to sin like the devil Monday through Saturday and repent together on Sunday, that's their right. It's deep-seeded within me that they're entitled to their opinions; the problem is drawing the line between the general guidelines we all accept (such as murder is wrong) and the specific views were entitled to. Is the extreme moral degradation of Despite my view of Tabula Rasa, people must be held accountable for their actions. Tabula Rasa mixed with upbringing is NOT an EXCUSE for murder or any other heinous crime. Society has a strong impact on us, enough to understand what is right and what is wrong. Despite my completely atheist household, I understood Christian values at a very, very young age. My parents didnt teach them to me, because they did not know them, did not understand them, and did not care to learn them. They also did not stop me from attending church with friends families: Other strictly religious families would ask me to go along to church because it was, in their opinion, outrageous that a child be brought up without any Christian guidelines. I accepted their invitation because I was curious. This began at a very young age. I often wonder if it is truly normal for children to have the thoughts and curiosities I had as young as age 4 and 5. About God and his validity, and about science, and even about the Big Bang theory. I can remember thinking about these things and pin-point their time frame thanks to my photographic memory. I can remember pondering about the beginning of the universe sitting next to our old worn out recliner chair in my play room, which had been moved from that room when I was 5 or 6. I dont even remember how I got these thoughts in my head. This only adds to my struggle with my own application of the Tabula Rasa theory. Regardless, I understood very early the difference between right and wrong, and the slightly different interpretations: Christian right and wrong, my parents right and wrong, societal right and wrong. Whether I learned these concepts at a normal age or early, other children could not have been too far behind. There is therefore no reason to not hold a person accountable for their actions; and even if there is some sort of viable excuse (i.e. true chemically imbalanced insanity), the government still has an obligation to protect the whole of society from these people. Being insane is not a reason for these people to go home at night, so we can worry when they're going to have a psychotic episode and kill somebody else. I am still going to live my life the same way as before this course, just with more knowledge and understanding as to why Im going to live my life this way. Im going to enjoy my life on a this only happens once basis, but not to the point where it gets me killed in the process. I am going to make sure that I respect other peoples beliefs and viewpoints, as I would expect the same to be done for me. I am going to try to surround myself with people who share my morals and values. In addition to making the most sense, and complementing each others families well, it will make the experience of living that much more enjoyable. I will try not to be pushy and persuasive about my beliefs versus another person's, although sometimes this is more difficult when I find the other persons beliefs radical, outrageous, dangerous, or offensive, as was the case with one of the last postings on our class message board. I will still try though, as I realize that my opinions and beliefs could be viewed much the same way by another person. And I will always try to abide by the phrase do unto others, as you would want them to do unto you; the optimist in me, while it goes against the idea of materialism, really, likes to believe that what goes around really does come around. |
Saturday, January 27, 2007
| 11:02 PM - Not everybody can change the world.
Erik, Vanessa and I just saw the movie Freedom Writers. It is an incredible movie and I reccomend anyone to go see it. The movie brought a lot of things to my conscious mind though; social issues that truly upset me, and something else that has been eating at me all day. Freedom Writers was/is a true story. Their real diaries were published in 1999. The hell that these kids had to go through just to make it to school without being shot.... it's something most of us can't imagine. But what gets me is these kids who are so insistent that they *do*. These kids from Parkland, Emmaus, and you know what? Even Dieruff. And WAHS. In their Sean John; in their Pepe Jeans. Acting like they "know what these kids went through," or "I can relate [dawg]! That's me!" Bullshit, I say. That is NOT YOU. I have no doubt that there are kids who have had to see some awful shit, right here in Allentown or even in West. I am sure that children and adolescents have seen their mothers beaten; have seen drug deals; have seen other acts of violence, maybe even gang violence. But what is the percentage of these children compared to everyone else in these aforementioned schools? Really? Not the entire school, like some of these 90s inner-city schools---or even present-day ones (although I would like to think that there has been SOME progress.) Most people in this area have no idea what it is like to go through what these kids had to go through--and should never hope to. It makes me sick that this lifestyle that these kids were a part of because they had to be is glamourized. It makes me sick that people choose this for themselves when there are people who I'm sure would gladly trade for the priviledged life these self-inflictors lead. People wonder why we, as a society, are regressing. Why violence is on the rise; why high drop-out rates rise. Maintaining anonymity as best I can, I have run across a high-school graduate--from one of the most elite schools in the area--who thinks that stuff you make toast out of is "bred." Why? Because we glamourize stupidity. We glamourize struggle. We glamourize unrest. There's many forms of this so as to appeal to everyone of every race, age group, and gender. If you're white, female and between 12 and 30, we have for you: Paris Hilton. If you are black, and just about any age below 35, we have for you: Just about every major hip-hop artist, save for a few who try to do some good. Hell, if you're white, hispanic, or asian that applies to you too; it just makes you try to change yourself, resocialize yourself. We have singers, actors, heiresses, models, representatives in every media outlet to show you how wonderful life is when you're blissfully ignorant. They just fail to teach you that they have people to direct their every move. To cover their asses. They don't need smarts to make money, because they have plenty. They don't tell you that they capitalize on your gullibility. They don't tell you that they are part of a special few who have gotten through life this dumb, while all the people behind their scenes have Bachelor's and Master's degrees. So people---particularly impressionable children and adolescents---in essence aspire to be nothing, in hopes that they will be everything that nothing seems it can be. Our youths learn nothing, they want to learn nothing, and our society crumbles. Thanks, MTV. But glamourizing violence is about the worst of it. It is one thing to be stupid; it is another entirely to be stupid and armed. There are so many kids I am sure want to get away from the violence.... and yet so many who envy it, and wish to be a part of it. Excuse me while I vomit. This is obviously emotional and un-thought-out, because it is probably wholely unorganized. I have a friend who most unfortunately bought into this whole glamourized ghetto life thing. We have been close friends since we were about 10; I mean, we have lived next to each other for a good chunk of our lives. I am scared for her. She called me crying this morning, and I feel sick. If something happened to her, I would probably snap. But she won't help herself, won't accept my help, and won't come home. V, Erik and I were talking about this during the car ride home. As much as everyone says "you can't do anything if she doesn't want to help herself," and "if something happens, you did all you could," that is not sufficient for me. There are selfish and unselfish reasons for this. First, the unselfish. She is a human being and is like my sister. I would probably put myself in harm's way to save her. She knows that she is having major problems, and anyone else I could probably psychoanalyze and figure out why she still insists on putting herself in the position that she is in. But Erik and V are right; I'm too close to this to truly psychoanalyze her, and I am answer-less. But it kills me to hear her cry, and wonder if she's alive from day-to-day. I want her to be who she used to be; not because I liked her any more, because I do not like her any less than I ever did; but because she was safer. I would miss her terribly if something ever happened. The selfish reason: She is one of few links to my past. I know that sounds terrible. Most people have family members that tell stories of their past; old friends, etc. As it is, I feel like I did not exist until I was about 10. I barely remember my mom. I barely remember Catasauqua. It all seems a dream at this point. My childhood was so shitty--although I will grant you it was no inner-city-ghetto life!---but sometimes I forget there were times that WEREN'T shitty. I have known her and another girl friend of mine the longest; and when they remind me of things that happened that were funny, odd, or just happy, it makes me feel good. It reminds me that not every minute of every day was awful. It also reminds me why I am who I am today, and reminds me that I existed yesterday, and the year before that, and the year before that. I'm probably rambling at this point. I'm emotional. I think I've been emotional for some time. I'm emotional over my turmoil with her turmoil; I'm emotional over problems with my dad, and wondering when he is going to die. I already know that I am going to feel like an orphan when he is dead. I will have nothing else to call "mine," as in truly mine. At that point, I will basically have had no life until I was 16--when I met Erik. Things were shitty but he is still my father. Not Erik's father, my father. Who essentially helped in my creation. There's nobody else. No cousins. No mother. No Aunts, Uncles. (the "uncles" i do have I didn't meet until I was 13, because they hated children.) No grandparents. No siblings. You name it, I haven't got it. So when my father is gone---tomorrow, or in however many years of miracles occur---the only links to my past I have are these two girls, and even that only spans back to when I am 9-10. I still have not existed until then. Christ, and I want to counsel OTHER people!? I'm sure I left out about 100 other things I wanted to say......... but I suppose that will suffice. I wish I could change the world, like the teacher in the movie. I wish I could make life better for other people. I can only hope that someday through counseling, I will help at least one person. I have to accept that because of my circumstances, and my ambitions, I will never save groups and groups of people and show them a life they didn't even know they could lead. But I suppose if everybody could save the world....there would be nothing left to save.
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