Moderately Entertaining

redirection

2012-01-02T12:59:00.000-08:00

Wonder where I've gone? Check out Learn Laugh Play, my new journal.

it's been awhile

2010-08-04T22:30:00.000-07:00

Ignore my absence.

I love the feeling that I am starting a new chapter in my life. Whenever I am starting something that gives me the opportunity to alter myself or my life, it gives me a great sense of establishment. It allows me to look at my entire life leading up to this point, and decide how I want to spend the next part of it, and if I should change something. In this way, I am attempting to always look forward. I never want the blank space between the chapters to be very long, because this means I am lost, and I don't know what to write.

It feels like I am in a constant state of transition between one thing and the next, but this doesn't produce a positive mindset. If I thought that, then I would have no direction, because I wouldn't know what I was transitioning to. If there is barely any blank space between the chapters, or maybe none at all, then I have already started my new chapter, and I must decide what to do with it right away.

A new chapter is usually defined by a new school quarter, relationship, project, opportunity, or state of mind. (The state of mind is always required for a new chapter, but it is only self aware in some circumstances.) The reason I'm thinking about this is because I am concerned about my blank space. I think that I started a new chapter without planning, and I still don't know what to write. I have ideas, lots of ideas, but it's hard to decide which to follow. How can I write a sensible plot without a plan?

Do I need a plan? At this point I have lots of ideas about school and relationships and projects, but I am completely unsure of what my state of mind should be. In other chapter beginnings, I was content with the excitement of the new opportunity for my focus. My intent was to explore the opportunities to the best of my ability. For some reason, that excitement is not enough this time, and I still feel like I have no direction.

It's difficult when I don't have some of the characters as in the last chapter, and I have to decide if others are worth to be in my story. New characters are hard to come by, but I think that's what I need. Instead of choosing from opportunities in front of me to give my life direction, I will create new ones by meeting new people and having new experiences.

starting at the beginning

2009-11-23T17:30:00.000-08:00

There is a range of notes, theoretically, that goes infinitely high and infinitely low. Even though this is true, we can not hear a large amount of them because of our limited auditory receptors. Also, there is an infinite amount of notes, theoretically, in between any two notes, or any half step. "How is this possible??" you ask. And then I answer:

Imagine the infinite amount of tones I described as a slide whistle, or a trombone, that is infinitely long. The range will never end, you can always make the note you play higher, or lower. Hypothetical situation: on that slide there will be a place where someone tells you is a C note. Then, they will let you know that to play a C sharp, you must slide up an inch. "If you slide too much, the note will be too sharp, and if you slide not enough, the note will be too flat." they say.

Pertaining to this, I have a question. Aren't those tones, that are between that C and that C sharp, still notes? Why do they not have names, why do we never use them? Why, out of all the ways one could divide an infinite stream of tones, do we divide them into octaves? Why do the note names, as a scale continues upward, repeat after 8 notes? Why, on a piano, are there only 12 note names? Just 12...

Is there actually something, physically, either in the sound wave or the way we perceive the wave, the "same" about a C in one octave and a C in the next octave. Musicians like myself are able to tell when given two notes in different octaves, if they have the same note name or not. How?? Have we just been trained, through years of hearing and playing music based on octaves to think that they sound similar; or do they actually, literally, technically, sound alike?

Imagine if our defined note names were closer together on the infinite slide. Our half step used to be C and C sharp, they were an inch apart on this slide. Now we have new note names--Z and Y--and they are only half an inch from each other on the slide. We used to go from C to C on our piano with 12 notes. Now, how about we only have 10 notes, from Z to Z.

Would anyone be able to make music out of this system, or would it feel so repulsive that we could not bring ourselves to understand or appreciate it. And if were too repulsive, then would this be because of our innate sense of music that we are born with (to think in scales of 8 and certain amounts of space between notes), or because of our learned sense of music from society?

my friend id

2009-11-21T23:53:00.000-08:00

note: this post is not about the instinctual aspect of human thought, as theorized by Sigmund Freud.

Today, id told me something pleasing.

"id like to tell you something," grunted id. "im going to start checking my spelling more often. o.O"

Good for im!

playing doctor

2009-08-11T16:56:00.000-07:00

My boyfriend's little sister is eight years old. I often play with her, whether it be house or tea party or hide-and-go-seek. Yesterday, she wanted to play doctor after I had pretended to cut open her skull and remove her brain.

She understands fully the line between reality and pretend. I asked her if she has had an x-ray before and she whispered "you mean in real life?", as if the pretend world before us would hear her if she spoke too loudly. She seemed more interested in the diagnosis and solution rather that the procedures, she would walk out of the room for more patients and tell me to finish the surgery on my own.

I was the doctor, she was my assistant. Her stuffed animals were our patients.

We had many common devices used in hospitals, improvised from objects around us. A stethoscope, a blood pressure device, a scalpel, a stapler, masks, gloves, a clipboard, and a cage for the replacement donor brains.

Mr. and Mrs. Dog came into my office and my assistant read me their problem from their paperwork. "They can't have puppies, they've tried everything!", she said. I was a little impressed at the sophistication of the scenario, but I figured she saw the very some problem on television somewhere. I was thinking I may have to let her down and say there is nothing we can do, if I wanted to avoid teaching her about the birds and the bees.

I contemplated giving Mrs. Dog some fertility drugs, pretending to reverse Mr. Dog's visectomy, suggesting different positions to the couple, or sending them to a sperm bank, but I thought that take too much explanation I didn't feel right giving her just yet. So I said there were some things we might be able to recommend to them, "but I think their best option is to refer them to an orphanage". She takes out 4 little tiny dog stuffed animals, and says that they have to keep the dogs who were sisters together. She lines them up and says "Let's see which one they like the best!" I tried to tell her that the couple could only afford to adopt one puppy, but I realized that making that decision would make her feel like life was unfair, so I said they would adopt all four puppies, and justified it in my mind by saying that dogs have litters of four or more puppies all the time.

A problem with playing doctor with an eight year old, is attempting to use as few medical words as possible, asking if she knows what complicated words mean, and having propmt understandable explanations of these words. I had to explain to her what a spinal chord was when she said the lamb's leg's "didn't work". Instead of telling her that the quadriplegic lamb had a near to none chance of regaining the use of her limbs, I said we could operate on her spinal chord.

After this point, I realized how hard it was to play this with her. I didn't know how realistic I was supposed to be. Do I tell her some things are hopeless? Can I ever tell her there is a high possibility of death?

She brought in some deaf and blind baby dolls for me to cure, and I said that I wouldn't operate on infants because it is a liability issue, and that it would be hard to tell if a baby was deaf, anyway. Then she picks up a monkey doll from the Dora the Explorer television show that says three different phrases when you squeeze it's belly. "He won't say anything else!", she says. I told her we'd send him to the psychiatry office on the third floor with Dr. Danny. (The room my boyfriend was playing video games in).

Another thing about playing with her in a pretend world which is supposed to be orderly and professional, such as a hospital or a tea party, is she behaves very well, is far more courteous than usual, and pretends to be an adult, saying things about herself which she admires in her role models, or saying that the things her real self does are bad. I was the pediatrician, and she was a mother of three infants. She said that her babies watch too much TV, and that they yell and scream when someone tries to turn it off. "They should only watch 3 shows a day, but they watch 10!" This is what she does in real life, she watches TV constantly. I then ask her, "What is their diet like? ...Um...what do they eat?" and she tells me how much candy and soda and "all the things that are unhealthy they eat" (just like her).

The pretend world is allowing her to be honest about what she does in reality, and what she feels bad about doing. It shows that she really does know when she is doing things she shouldn't be doing, and that she does have the capability of both recognizing it, and changing the way she acts to be more agreeable.

She just has to think she is playing for that to happen. That way, it's fun to behave.

Happy birthday, Bloggy!

2009-06-23T19:35:00.000-07:00

Exactly one year ago, (to the minute!) this blog was born (see screen shot of birth on right). I introduced myself to my blog as it's caretaker and provider, I made sure no one would harm it by having a password that blogger said was "strong". I gave my blog a name that would make it successful, and a home by deciding it's URL. I dressed it up nicely in pretty colors with my chosen background and font colors, and I showed it to the world as my little blog.

My little blog has now grown up a bit, and I am so proud; it has accomplished so much in this year, and I see promising things coming from it in the future.

So far, my blog has been well behaved. Thankfully, it has had no inclination to participate in that "team blogging" thing that is so popular these days. The server has not failed, losing all of my entries, and for that I am thankful. I have not been stalked by creepy perverts through my blog (at least I think) and I have not developed Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from the long expanses of time rapidly typing stream of consciousness.

So thank you, Moderately Entertaining. You have thanked me for all I have done by attracting comments and readers! I really like that part of our relationship.

365 days, 100 posts. Is this a coincidence happening without my manipulation or have I busted my hump to meet this deadline in order for my blogiversary to be just that much more special?

Determine what you will.

In 100 posts (including the posts' titles, and also those quotes on the sidebar), I have written 36, 102 words. This averages to about 361 words per post. Also, keep in mind that several posts had minimal words and displayed a picture of some sort, so this is a lower average compared to an average of the posts who's main event is the words as opposed to the pictures.

If a picture is worth 1000 words, and I have posted exactly 103 pictures (including profile picture) to help explain, add to, enhance, or compose my entries, then this adds to 139,102 words for my 100 posts.

Averaged, I have done a post every 3.65 days. Every day I have written an average of about 99 words. (not including the 101,000 words for pictures OR the posts I have as drafts).

73 comments have been made (including ones made by myself) on this blog in one year. This averages .73 comments per post, and .2 comments per day this past year.

note: The fact that this post is the last of the hundred posts has been accounted into all statistics within this post.

"Up" review

2009-06-23T11:31:00.000-07:00

Pixar's recent film entitled Up has gained much positive response from critics and viewers from a large age range. If have seen this movie or have no intention of seeing it then please read this. If you are planning on seeing it soon, then wait until that time to read this review. I don't want to make you think something and then have you resent the movie, I want you to formulate your own opinion and then disagree with me. It's much more fun that way.

synopsis: Boy and girl like adventure from a young age, they are married and have a wonderful life together. They have dreams of traveling to South America and having their house on top of Paradise Falls.Woman is old and dies. She gives her husband her "Adventure Book". The man does not want to go to a retirement home (and let the company take his property) because the house is something he deeply associates with his belated wife. Upon agreement to be taken to a home, thousands of inflated balloons through the chimney lift his house into the air and he is on his way to accomplish the dream he and his wife never fulfilled.

He is looking near the waterfall, but the balloons do not have enough inflation to bring him over the gap in the land to his destination. He straps the garden hose to himself and the accidental boy-scout stowaway, and they make their way over to the waterfall by foot. Along the way, they bump into a talking dog with a collar which allows him to speak his thoughts. The dog's owner is searching for an exotic bird whom has been following the boy and the man for a few minutes of the story. They make it to the waterfall. The man reads his wife's Adventure Book in the "stuff I'm going to do" section, and there are wedding pictures and pictures of their children and pictures of their house. She leaves him a note in the back: "Go have your own adventure. -Ellie"

The man promises the boy that he will keep the bird safe from the owner of the dog. The villain, the owner of this dog and thousands alike to him, tries to kill the man and boy to get the exotic bird. Irony: the villain is a famous TV/movie adventure star whom the man admired as a child. It all ends up great blah blah villain dies.

The good things:

1) The trip to South America shows the great lengths he goes in order to accomplish his belated wife's dream, and the balloons the great heights of his ambition. All this shows his devotion and heartbreak.
2) The boyscout enforces the "adventure" point of the story. How it can be frivolous and childlike and meaningless, be taken too far, and produce great reward and pride. He also serves as a companion to the man which keeps the story and the main character lighthearted throughout struggle and despair. The growing friendship in the story shows a progression of the main character from bitter and mourning his wife, to warm-heartedness and acceptance.
3) His wife's note shows that he did not need to fulfill their dream to please her. That they had their adventure, and it was a good one. It shows both that his want to accomplish this was a result of his sadness, and it allows him to realize this, and have peace with his accomplished life-long dream.

The bad things:

1) The fact that he goes and has his "own adventure" does NOT send me the message that he is getting over the death of his wife. In fact, it sends me me the opposite message that he is displacing his grief and sorrow into a want for more fun and near death.
2) His want to protect this bird is a sign of his desire for the boy's love. They want the character to seem as if he does this because of his compassion for the bird and not wanting it to be captured, but to me it seems that he is so lonely from the death of his wife, that he wants someone to like him. He goes to far too great measures to accomplish this.
3) This movie does not explain the reason why the boy wants to "save" the bird from the villain and why the villain wants to KILL them to get this bird. We have no idea if this man wants to kill the bird for dinner or for a coat from it's colorful feathers or for scientific observance or for a circus! They don't tell us anything, and it makes the entire struggle of "keeping it safe" seem stupid and unjustified.
4) The villain was on a quest for this bird for many years, just as the main character was on a quest to have a house in South America. The both had a goal, they both wanted it with all their heart. The protagonist achieves his goal, while the antagonist dies plummeting towards the jungle from miles above ground. WHY? Why do they NEGATE their own POINT of trying to accomplish your goals? Was what the villain wanted so horrible that he should DIE on his way?
5) The talking dogs. Oh god how I hated them. They made no sense, they were thrown in, they had nothing to do with anything.
6) The villain was someone that the main character admired as a boy. Are they trying to send the message that kids should not have role models? That adventure actually is evil? I don't see the point in having him be this person. I see opposite meaning in it. Perhaps they said it should be him for the shock of the reveal of character, and also the fact that creating a new character would be hard to do and feel insignificant. There is ONE way his character could work. And that would be that the main character feels that everything he has ever known (or admired) is turning his back on him. That just before he accomplishes his goal, things continue to get in his way. But he still yet deals with the villain after he accomplishes it, so it makes no sense in this context either.

My points:

THERE WAS NO NEED FOR HIM TO HAVE ANOTHER ADVENTURE! The Adventure Book showed him the adventure he had. There was no need. No need. His adventure was having his life with Ellie AND making it to Paradise Falls.

THERE WAS NO NEED FOR THE VILLAIN! He went against the "you can do anything you want to do" moral, as he died trying to achieve it. He distracted us from the reason the main character is in South America. There were already villains in this story. First, we had Man vs. Himself with his struggle of missing his wife, and this continues throughout the story. Then, it was Man vs. Society with the company wanting his property and everyone saying he should leave his house. Finally, it was Man vs. Nature as he flies though storms and makes his way through the jungle towards his destination. There was plenty enough villain in this story for me without an actual character to think is evil.

When they start the alternate plot line, with the talking dogs and the villain, the symbolism of the house and balloons, and his physical struggle in making his way there, and even the colorful bird is RUINED. They make all this beautiful imagery be taken completely literally. They use it as an excuse for violence and near death and excitement. The main character is fighting for something that makes no sense with his past wants, and that is not for pure "adventure", like his wife suggested. Her note in the book was not for him to endanger his life, it was for him to not dwell, and have fun. I can hardly call fighting for your life fun, I call it stressful.

I think a better ending would have been suicide off the waterfall after he reads the book. But the note from Ellie should not be there. But this would be the grownup version of the story, that's not really a good look for Disney.

Overall:

I loved this story. I liked how it addresses death in a child movie. I liked how the montage of his life with Ellie hints toward a stork delivering their baby, I absolutely loved the scene where he looks at the Adventure book on the waterfall (it made me cry). I liked the bird, I even kind of liked the first talking dog only because it annoyed the man so much. I really did like the movie until they introduced the villain. The movie got severely boring for me after that point, and I wished for it to end.

Also, the real title of this movie is "The Spirit of Adventure". The first few minutes of the movie shows these words several times, so I am sure it must have been the working title until they thought up the alternate plot line when Disney said "we should Disney this up a bit" and then it couldn't be called that anymore because that was the name of the villain's blimp and it would be blatantly stupid to have the point of the story OBVIOUSLY negated like that, rather than discreetly.

hopefully

2009-06-17T21:54:00.000-07:00

this summer I will:

finish that book I keep renewing
check out other books and read them also
buy my school books for fall
go running and play soccer with my boyfriend
make him do yoga
do my laundry and not wear the same outfit for several days
clean my room (and keep it in that state)
swim a lot
see many movies
continue blogging
have frequent outings and get-togethers with friends both long-lost and current
remember to practice viola
learn new songs on guitar
see live music performances
continue self taught music theory lessons with the internet and my keyboard
construct daisy chains in the park and watch clouds go by while I lie in the grass
have quality time with friends and family
eat something other than top ramen on a regular basis
not get dehydrated
draw something, anything
do the WASL testing I missed when I was sick that one day
write something that I don't post on this blog
camp, maybe
take a dance class
picnics
throw birthday party

The school year is over. My final grades are decent. Well, more than decent. Actually, they are really really good. So good, it's going to raise my cumulative high school GPA. Raise it. =) So, good year it was. I am ready to relax for the summer, have my fun, and then start at junior college next fall with the college-in-high-school program. yay. Have a nice summer everyone, I'll keep you posted on my progress on these goals.

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind"

2009-06-06T12:41:00.000-07:00

I will do my best to have this be the only post I ever do that is about Shakespeare. This being said, I have to cover all my Shakespearean history and all my thoughts on his work.

As a child, I don't know how young, my favorite VHS tape was A Midsummer Night's Dream, directed by Michael Hoffman, and I have been told that I watched it constantly. I suppose that I understood the plot or I would have not liked it much. Maybe I only liked the costumes of the fairies and the easily understood comedic elements of parts. Being young, I probably didn't fully understand the plots of any movies that were not made by Disney, anyway.

In 7th grade, English class required the reading of this play. I enjoyed the reading of it, and had fun with the small part of the combined roles of Cobweb, Peaseblossem and Mustardseed in the scene my group was assigned. Playing 3 different fairies at once, I found out a way to duck behind objects in the room to make it seem, at least I thought, as if I really was different fairies appearing from all directions.

That year, I met my best friend who is a Shakespeare fan and had been in her elementary school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream as Puck. Her favorite plays by Shakespeare, besides A Midsummer Night's Dream are As You Like It, and Twelfth Night.

I remember being taken to see Hamlet at some point many years ago. In 9th grade, English class had us read Romeo and Juliet. I really liked it. 10th grade, we read Macbeth. I really liked that too.

Last summer, my best friend once again starred as Robin Goodfellow as she had in 6th grade, this time in a production not tied with the school. She earned herself the front page of the local newspaper. Her performance was amazing, showing brilliant understanding and interpretation of the text, and letting her own personality, very fitting to the role, shine through in her manner enough for my personal viewing of the part be extremely comical.

Just recently I went to see the school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was not especially wonderful. I have dislikes of some of the acting styles of the regular students whom appear in the school plays and musicals. Some actors I was quite impressed with. Helena and Demetrius have been accused of having an offstage infatuation with each other, which made the kiss they shared near the end of the play quite interesting, play aside. Not to mention the acting of the two, which nearly stole the show from Puck, who was quite accomplished in her interpretation of character.

While studying Macbeth, English class watched a movie that explained why Shakespeare is a genius playwright. The plays were targeted towards the "groundlings", it said. These were the poor, uneducated people who paid only one penny to be admitted to a play, allowed to do this to fill up the space right before show time. Because the plays were written for the groudlings, the easily understood jokes and the catchy descriptive phrases were repeated in homes and therefore used for centuries afterward.

Shakespeare seems complicated because it is written in a language that we barely understand today. When we are able to finally understand the meaning of the words, it seems ingenious still for it's mastery of rhyme and syllabus*. After we get past this, perhaps even think it is stupid, there is still the matter of plot. Maybe the meaning of the words that is being used to show the plot seems simplistic and exaggerated, which is offsetting when trying to extract what is happening and why, but the meaning of what is happening, and the way it describes life is intriguing. These plays may have been written to attract approval of an audience, but when analyzed, the literal actions of characters explain and question human nature and and thought.

If the obvious moral or idea that is shown from the play is only how deep the meaning goes, I am not sure. For me, it is often hard for me to even get this far with these plays when I have to go through the steps of even understanding what they are saying and who is who.

Anyway, that is all I have to say on the matter on Shakespeare.

* note: not a real word in this context

fundamental jazzaversary

2009-05-23T20:06:00.000-07:00

The Edmonds Jazz Connection was satisfying as it was last year. It was a treat for this event to coincide with my and my boyfriend's 6th month anniversary for it gave us an excuse to spend the entire day together, but also because I wanted him to experience something that he knows I love, but knows nothing about and does not understand why.

We started off the day at 10am in the Combo venue. My boyfriend sat bored and gazed with envy at my brother's active DS. I suggested he focus on the different musicians or close his eyes or tap his foot to get into it but he just remained looking sad and bored while i nodded my head and grinned at the talented performers. It was worrying to me that the entire day would be a bad experience for him but I thought maybe he would find the big bands more engaging and understandable.

At the big band venue, he liked a few slow balled songs. But whenever the tempo or dynamics increased, he would clench his hands to the arm rest and his leg would shake uneasily. It was quite extreme also, I was amazed and concerned but somehow not insulted. Big band isn't my favorite part of jazz, but it doesn't make me tense up. I was astonished. I couldn't really wrap my mind around the fact that jazz, of all things, was making my boyfriend extremely edgy. I had noticed before that all his favorite music is low key and mid to slow tempo, but I didn't think fast and exciting music would be this disturbing to him.

I stroked his arm and took deep breaths to instruct him to relax, but it was not helping him that much. I think he really dislikes the sound of trumpets, for whenever they would play he would tense his entire body. I admit that jazz is a little offsetting sometimes with it's sometimes unpredictable patterns and turns, but I associate that feeling of being on the verge of something else with a feeling of peace, not noises that you can't control which are scary and threatening.

I started to realize that the reason someone would feel edgy was because they don't understand the music. They don't understand how to tap their foot to it or count it or what chord progression will obviously happen or what noises are coming from which instruments.

I was softly tapping my hand with the music on his leg to help him get into it but he didn't understand that's what I was doing. At a song which had a rhythm resembling a heartbeat, I tapped on his chest. He asked "That's my heartbeat?" as if I had felt it and I was showing him. I looked at him and realized he couldn't tell that I was tapping to the music. He has trouble clapping with music and he can't really tap his foot without watching someone else do it first to a song.

It mystified me. I had always been able to dance and do musical things intuitively. And with musical training I have gotten to the next levels of understanding.

We left the venue and I was relived to see him relax a bit. We headed to the vocal jazz venue because I hoped that would feel more soothing to him. On the way there, I starting teaching him about simple music theory. I told him about counting, and that if a song is in 4/4, that you will count from 1 to 4 and then over and over again. And that in jazz, and also reggae, the emphasis of the count is on 2 and 4. This confused him a lot, so I demonstrated with the song "Mary had a little lamb." Once, while snapping 1 and 3 and singing normally. And again, while snapping 2 and 4 and singing with those emphasis. He didn't understand it, but he did say that he could tell there was a difference. I had him snap and say "1, 2!, 3, 4!" He got the hang of that.

In the vocal venue I took out a little (very little) composition notebook. I wrote a few things down for him, distinguishing the difference between a beat, and a rhythm. A woman next to me asked "ooh what's that? A composition?" It was a whole note and then two half notes on a staff with no lines with 1, 2, 3, 4 written above it. Crappy composition if you ask me. But the funny thing was that it was in a composition notebook, which she did not know and I realized the hilarity of later. I suppose it was a composition.

I once again tapped my hand on his leg, and this time I said "2, 4, 2, 4" once in awhile to him if he looked over. He said he liked the vocal a lot better than the other two styles. He started tapping his foot on tempo, on beat. I was so proud.

We headed to the combo venue again after a bit, and I told him more about music. And the more I told him, the more he asked. He is a quick learner, and he asks good questions, so it went along well and he learned a lot. Outside the building we sat on a bench instead of going inside, he didn't feel like listening more yet. I took out my trusty tiny composition notebook and started scribbling staffs and pianos and note names and definitions while I explained everything.

In the lesson he learned the applied definition and definition of beat, rhythm, percussion, measure, note, tone, clef, time signature, chord, key, interval, and tempo. I didn't have time to tell him about harmony, which is quite fundamental when listening to a band or choir. But impressive, huh? He asked me very good questions, like "how many notes are there in a beat?" To which I demonstrated the different note values and their notations, and explained that you can have between 0 and as many as humanly possible. I drew a piano to show him a chord and how to make a chord major or minor. And I showed him the three clefs and what this means. I feel quite proud of myself, but he really is a quick learner. I taught him how to read the wine blessing in Hebrew 10 minutes before Seder on Passover.

When we went into the combo venue again, and he didn't seem as bored anymore. And without my help, I saw him mouthing counts. Yay!

6 times 7

2009-05-04T18:49:00.000-07:00

Why was it, that upon the realization that it would be impossible to calculate the immensity of the universe, mathematicians concluded that it must be infinity large?

I know, I know, there are many scientific and logically deductive reasons for coming to this conclusion other than what I will soon say, such as the theory of an expanding universe, and black holes; but for the sake of argument, let's look past these for the moment and assume that the infinite universe is an idea that was concluded without much factual evidence.

If we have no knowledge of when, why, if something ends, or what is beyond it, do we have to view it as infinite? Because we have no reason to think otherwise, and no evidence, we have to tell ourselves it is unmeasurable, and consistently the same of what we know already, but forever. We do this to cope with not knowing what is beyond.

Everything in our literal understanding has an end. An individual life, food, a ruler, a song. Why is the universe, a literal thing (or rather, a literal everything), clumped into the same category as ideas and ideologies such as God, numbers, and love, which usually have no end, and are therefore called infinite in many circumstances.

The universe may end! It is said that it is hard to grasp the thought of infinity. But really, I think it is the opposite. Infinity is hard to explain rationally and prove, but the thought is simple: never ending. The idea of ending has to be explained, and is not able to be accepted if it cannot be explained. We feel that we must know everything to have peace with ourselves. As a result, if we think that the universe goes on infinitely the same way that we see now, then we are theoretically not missing out on knowing how it ends, or anything within it, that is not in our sight.

We just don't know what the truth of the question is. We don't know how far it goes, if it ever does end, or what might be differing from what we assume is within it.

This being said, is it better for one to have peace with a likely false idea, or for one to spend the time to accept what they can not know?

teachers

2009-05-03T23:26:00.000-07:00

A thing most of the human race has in common, is the fact that we have all been students, and we still all are students. Not including the informal teachers in everyone's life, over a lifetime people have many many teachers in school and to learn skills. In my lifetime I have had approximately 40 school teachers thus far.

Because everyone has had teachers, I am sure I am not the only one who has thought about what way to approach thought about their teachers. It is respectful to not think about their personal lives, and only care about the information which is being presented to you. You are allowed to hold respect for them, look up to them, or dislike them for their teaching style. It is not thought of as respectful to dislike them for their personality, refer to their personal lives, point out or think about their personal faults or fears or insecurities. Under my experiences, in high school and below, it is not heard of to think of your teachers as human beings, or analyze anything about them. We assume our instructors do not have feelings, do not have lives, do not have views different from what they are told to teach. This being said, is it wrong to think about these things?

Lately, I have been able to view my teachers in a different way than I usually have. More recently, I have the tendency to understand that my teachers are not perfect and just beings, nor is their entire life and love the classroom and the students within it. I find flaws and personal behaviors of teachers very interesting. Most students view these tendencies as reason to like or dislike the teacher, which effects if they want to learn or not, whereas I use it as a way to understand the person who is teaching me, and how it effects their teaching style.

My current math teacher, I before thought was mundane, and overly prone to long pauses between phrases of boring content. I now realize he is purely a perfectionist, making sure every painfully simple statement and equation he writes or says is completely precise. He is also very patient and friendly. I thought he actually enjoyed boring me to death, but all he is trying to do is not move on until everyone understands. Although he enjoys humor from time to time, he does not take kindly to anti-intellectual behavior such as not doing work or not finishing homework. He says "This is unacceptable" and shakes his head during this statement quite often. Unfortunately, I cannot sympathize with his character on this matter because I am student who understands the content of the class with ease. I find it comical to a point where I have to repress signs of comical influence on my face when he gets very serious about people needing to be focused in and about his class. This is because it is hard for me to imagine a universe where that was a class I really had to "buckle down" in. I'm not exactly sure how he can say it with a straight face. Then again, it shows he is taking his class as seriously as his students should that will allow them to pass the class, and I should admire this.

Regarding his sense of humor I have a story of an obnoxious comment I made during class! Scoring 105% on every test in this class, he knows that I understand the concepts without much explanation. One day, as I stared into space during the lecture about congruent triangles, I noticed a term on the projection with a definition that we were expected to copy into our notes which we would at some point use during a test. (Because I never take notes, and because attaching notes to our exams earns a few extra credit points, I have been attaching the same page of notes to every test which I took very close to the beginning of the year. I think I have the formula for the circumference of a circle and the definition of a supplementary angle on this paper.) Out of boredom I read the large projection on the wall which reads "right triangle: a triangle with a right angle". In response to this display I make a face resembling a capital o followed by a period, followed by a lower case o. Then, I almost choked on my own saliva as I fought not to attract so much attention to myself as I resisted the urge to laugh my as off. The teacher dismisses us to a private work time for that night's homework and I raise my hand as he strolls through the classroom. With a determined spirit for my wise-crack, I threw on an intensely quizzical and confused face, and I said the words "Mr. Taylor?" in the whiniest voice I could. When I saw his recognition and attention as he made his was towards me I questioned "What's a right triangle?" with overly believable inflection. I remained in that quizzical expression while he repeated my question and glanced at the projection. I'm not sure if it was my cracking face that gave it away in the unbelieving that he actually thought my question was sincere or the fact that he remembered my usual instant understanding of the curriculum, but he started to smile, realizing my severe sarcasm of the question. I laughed, asking if we had not been using right triangles since the beginning of the course and had I not learned that fact as a 9 year old. He confirmed this fact, but said it might help the students to have the definition.

Another teacher of mine, I before thought was eccentric and comical. I now see that he truly is obnoxious, impatient, and selfish. He takes measures to humiliate students in front of the class to make a cheap joke. He will do anything for the class's laughter and approval. He has no wife, as far as any of us can tell. And he surely has no children, he has spoken of many members of his family. It's not fair to judge or question why this is; it could be regarding fertility, his orientation, his mental stability or personal issues, or his tendencies. I'm not suggesting anything, I don't really have any evidence towards any of those options, but sometimes one wonders. Also, he rarely allows people to go to the bathroom. Ultimately, it depends how much of the class is listening when you ask, because the more people it is, the funnier it seems to him to refuse their request.

Other than this though, I find him quite reasonable. Even though I think it's funny when he tells the class something general on a topic I know quite a bit about, and understands it so briefly and obscured that it is almost wrong, I think he has a way with stories and comedy that engages his students into the class. These stories have nothing to do with the class content, but I won't complain about that. If anything, I respect him for being less uptight about the work he is supposed to be doing.

Point...point...I'm sure I had a point at some point in this point. Er...I mean post.

Right. The question is: How helpful, how important, how appropriate, and how easy is it to see the person behind your teacher?

bloggy look at what i made!

2009-05-03T22:58:00.000-07:00

Not executed as well or ending compared to my previous trippy flower-inspired depiction, but the idea behind it is more important that the effectiveness of the art itself. At least that's the explanation I'm sticking with as long I have this piece under my possession.It is supposed to represent the overwhelming and startling power of nature. Those flower-like things are producing those giant globs of colorful who-knows-what and also the haze surroundng them. Also recently, I experimented a bit with charcoal and created a few minimal sketches of relatively simple objects in my room.

idea logic equivalence

2009-04-11T11:01:00.000-07:00

All ideas are equally valid and logical.

Allow me to justify.

An idea only seems complicated to some because their preconceived knowledge before hearing the idea was different or less than the person who came up with this idea.

Allow me to explain.

If I were trying to explain an idea I had about music to a person who had no knowledge or experience of the such, they would not be able to follow my reasoning to explain a very logical step, for me, from my preconceived knowledge to my epiphany. The more I tried to explain, the more terms that they did now know would have to be used, and the more they would have to learn in an instant and they more confused they would get. They would be so focused on the new ideas I have presented already, that the simple focus idea would make no sense to them. To a person with similar or superior preconceived knowledge of music to mine, would be able to understand my logic without any explaining on my part. I would just say "Oh man, I JUST realized that a C# minor chord is the same as a Db minor chord!" and it would be instantly understood and i would possibly even be ridiculed for the obvious nature of the fact.

This being said, it is just as equal a step of logic to go from C# minor chord is the same as Db minor chord as it is for a four year old to realize that sentences start with a capital letter. Perhaps it is not on the same level of knowledge, as measured by what should be known in our society early on, but the interval between the state of knowledge before the idea and the idea itself is equal with these two instances.

In fact, an idea is still just as logical, and therefore justifiably valid under the circumstances, even if the ending idea is accepted false under common knowledge. In other words, it is not the person's fault they came to this wrong thought. If you obtained the same preconceived knowledge as them, it is probable you would come to the same conclusion from the given pieces of information.

One thought leads to the next. You start as a baby and you gradually learn. A baby doesn't have ideas about quantum theory, and nor does a quantum theorist learn what a spoon is. But under the circumstances, the two new pieces of knowledge are equally difficult and logical to go from one idea to the next in finding out facts of the universe.

There are exceptions, of course, to my original statement. There are some who guess outlandish hypothesis and then try to prove these things: causing them to work backwards from the idea and thus not following a completely logical and equal jump of logic compared to someone else before making that outlandish hypothesis. But still yet, even in that instance, there must have been something logical which triggered this idea, some wide variety of preconceived knowledge which was not present in any other person to have this seemingly impossible idea. Therefore, ideas are always logical.

Even if one claims or is a assumed to be being completely random, they really are not. It is completely logical and it only takes a similar preconceived knowledge database or a high intellect to follow the flow of thought from one idea to the next.

This is how groups of people can have conversations that you cannot follow. They have had an experience in their lives that was similar, or had an experience that was had together. This means that between ideas expressed with speech, the same amount of thought is mutually and automatically inferred and interpreted, so that the next idea expressed, by the same individual or another, does not seem random at all. This is what people call being "on the same brainwaves". In a literal sense, it is actually partially true. Granted, it would be difficult to find someone who always thinks the same things as you, always, in the exact fashion; and you can't take that phrase to mean you are sharing the same wave (but creating similar ones); also I am not entirely sure if a "wave" is an accurate scientific way to describe ideas; but as I said, in a partial almost possible literal sense, it is true.

In conclusion, my hypothesis is that all ideas everyone has, at any time, in all history, false or true, with no regard to the sophistication of content, are all equally justified and logical to be thought, and all made with the same amount of logical thinking.

in a desperate effort to explain

2009-03-13T20:57:00.000-07:00

Many of my posts are efforts to define myself by what I have experienced, what I spend my time with, and what my preferences and thoughts about everything is. I try to describe who I am somehow with a compilation of seemingly random things that hopefully will give this sense of "me" some meaning.

That statement started as an observation, and ended with some melancholy feeling, in all honestly.

There seemed an insufficient amount of documentation for myself. I seemed to often forget or disregard these things about myself which would seem obvious to anyone else, or are key aspects to how I behave and what I like. I often forget my fears, I rarely see my normal facial expressions, and I dared not analyze my doubts and emotionally disturbing feelings. All I wanted to do was feel better and have people take me for who "I" was, whoever that was. Now I want to know, remember, and apply all this to my life so that I do not feel so lost. If someone is taking me for who I am, I'd like to know why. And if I like someone, I'd like to recognize that they actually are complimentary to who I am. And to do this, I need to know who I am. It's a necessity of life.

Perhaps this obsession for self analyzation began when I realized there was no one who knew everything about me, including myself. If there is one thing I need to know in this life it is who I am. For the more I know, the better my life feels. The less obscure and surreal my decisions seem to be, and the more I am comfortable speaking my mind, for I know what my mind actually thinks.

There is nothing I would love more than a few short words to sum up myself. I'm not sure if there is an end to the things that could be said about me.

This is not to say that I am generic or that everything could be said about me, or that everything said would not be completely contradictory or nonsensical. A lot of things could be said. This is all. Often I try to think about myself with a grouping of things that hopefully, barely anyone else has also:

I prefer washing my hands in cold water, spending most of my time in socks, and have acute Arachnophobia. Canned pears are about the greatest thing in the world. I have to fight to not spend the majority of my time doing very mindless and tedious things like sharpening pencils and peeling labels off my possessions. I'm Jewish. Usually I wear either loose braids hanging in front or a side ponytail hanging low in front. My sense of humor is almost normal, finding the most subtly offbeat, coincidental, or awkward things the most hilarious. I get anxiety before asking for direction towards an item in stores from employees, and I rehearse concise and respectful language before speaking. When I was younger, I must have had a slight case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, for I insisted on keeping the movements on either side of my body even. I had a fascination with sex long before I was supposed to know about it, and long before I actually did. I started wearing glasses in 4th grade. I never had braces. I was never stung by a bee. I hate American cheese. My boyfriend bought me a locket this past Valentine's Day. Autumn is my favorite season. Ethnically, I'm mostly Dutch. I like foreign films. I like interpreting art. There are some mechanical things that involve wheels which I find ingenious beyond measure. My favorite color is purple.

How many people do you know that all that is true about? Hopefully none =/

music appreciation

2009-03-08T13:46:00.000-07:00

I like quite a few genres of music. My musical taste and education began with a fundamental Classic Rock submersion. Excluding any music heard in the Jewish Renewal Synagogue, my dad's large collection of CDs and the radio in the car crafted my early perception of what music was. Modern Rock/Pop genre in the 90s remained part of my diet well into the 2000s as well as the classic rock which I still listen to today.

As I began gradeschool, I was introduced to more bubbly, girly pop. The boy bands and Britney Spears influenced singers of the age I took a liking to, and I remained in this phase for quite awhile.

In 4th grade I took up viola in the school orchestra; although I am sure this did not give me much real classical music learning and appreciation until much later, after years of playing the instrument, when I had the skill to play famous and interesting pieces (as opposed to "Fiddles on Fire").

Late 6th grade and early 7th grade, I gave into peer pressure and attempted to get into R&B popular at the time. This, thankfully, was a very short phase.

I quickly turned to emo and whiny Alternative Rock, seeming as the only flow of new music despite the mainstream genre I had just rejected. It was a nice change of pace, but it was lacking something; something meaningful and substantial.

I got into Jazz. How? I have no idea. My father had always praised Blues for it's predictable and lovable chord progression, and Jazz is the next step up. I was tired of seeking depth of music solely in lyrics. Pop annoyed me with its relentless 4/4 time and major keys. The utter simplicity of melody and predictability of arrangement bored me to death.

Along the way, through all of the music discovery, I have also enjoyed listening to genres such as Reggae, Electronic, Latin, Folk, Disco, Funk, and Techno, in addition to the main diet. For the novelty but still enjoyment, I have listened to things such as Jpop, Celtic, Trance, Medieval, New Age, Surf, and Polka.

I appreciate music because it is something other than language that expresses meaning and feeling. And there are a few aspects of Rock and Pop that all of my favorites seem to have in common. Some things that when hear I want to jump up and down and say "Yes! Yes! Good song!"

many parts and melodies, so that I am able to focus in and out on specific parts

a verse melody that can be used simultaneously with the chorus melody and sound intricate and complimentary

an opening riff that "tricks" you about what key the song is in with an accidental. In other words, making the song sound as if it were going to be minor and really ending up major, or vice versa.

changes of chord between melodic phrases, so that we can hear the shift in feeling rather than being consumed by the melody and lyrics wholly

a verse and chorus and bridge that blend into each other so well that you can barely decipher if or when one ends and one begins. Flow and ease of music is important, and making it seem as though it was not manufactured or constructed in a formulaic manner, but thought of and written.

changes of sets of chords with unchanging melody. This gives a different feel to the same idea of the song, and it is impressive to make notes fit into chords in different ways.

melody which is uncomplicated but covers a wide range of notes in an interesting way

melody that does not adhere to the rhythm of the chords. Phrasing being overlapped through the bars, or being spared with interesting (but not unsettling) choice of beats.

change in dynamics

some things to ponder over

2009-02-26T01:04:00.000-08:00

A usually snotty teen who talks back to la maestra and talks constantly and loudly (en inglés mind you) was being slightly more sincere than usual, but yet still got chewed out for sarcasm by la señora. I overheard her speaking to the girl behind me regarding the teacher's misconception of the connotation of her response.

She said, as if she had hit a stoke of genius, "It's weird...how like different words, when you say them, it makes them think you're sayin' it like mad or something. You know what I'm sayin'?" In her jumbled, stuttering, fragmented, discombobulated speech, she had the beginnings of a coherent thought-- a valid, thought-provoking idea. To reiterate it; word choice causes certain inflections in speech to be assumed of, regardless of what the tones actually were. The assumed inflections depend on culture, the feelings and predetermined expected attitudes of the listener towards the speaker, and the precision of the words used (whether they could have varied meanings). And because inflection has such an impact on the meaning of phrases, an entirely innocent statement can be taken as being said in a negative manner.

Language is such a delicate tool. Sticking to formulas and learned phrases are the key to learning and developing and surviving, but yet it can lead you to trouble. If you can only express an idea in one set of words, what should you do if that set of words fails to be comprehended in the correct manner or at all? What should you do if you want to describe a unique idea to another?

Language is the most useful thing on the face of this earth. It is how we communicate our ideas. What are our ideas? Some electrical waves running through some goop and flesh beneath our skulls? I don't know all the mechanics of the brain, but this seems an accurate approximation. Language makes sense of this thought, this idea, and specifies it to one core concept for everything that is said. This makes it understandable to another entirely different being whom has most likely had different experiences and learning process and rate than you, and whom has most definitely had thoughts vastly different from yours within their lifetime. And yet, we can make them think something, something that they would have not thought had we not said that, by exerting some sound waves or squiggling some characters.

And yet, as proved in this situation, it is not always as effective as we would want it to be. It is often more reliable on what is expected to be heard, what is formulaic to be said, what is able to be understood in normal setting, and exactly, specifically how it is said. Perhaps normal, conversational language gets in the way of our ability to learn "telekinetic" communication, or communicate by way of naturally obtained body language, facial expression, hand gestures, and grunts.

The fact that this girl had this idea, but could not express it very well, shows that at least to some extent, intellect and comprehension is not dependent on expression and literacy. I am quite convinced that everyone has ideas such as language and it's faults, this girl certainly did. Perhaps our raw thought is the same, which she implanted in my brain though her language, but she can simply not specify on what it is because of lack of vocabulary or understanding of her own ideas.

ESTJ

2009-02-23T21:15:00.000-08:00

I took it again. But this time, I got a different result. I suppose I have changed.

sound documentation

2009-02-22T21:43:00.000-08:00

Soon after waking, I had the bright idea to document my audible experiences for a day. After I realized that today was as good a day as any, I started jotting down everything that I heard. It took concentration. I had to open my ears, making sure not to discount any sound I usually ignored, tuned out, or simply did not notice. In my experiences, the quietest sounds are the most fascinating. I encourage you to try the same for a day, and perhaps attempt the same for smell, mental feelings, touch, dialogue, inner monologue, or anything else that strikes your fancy. Focus on your senses and your world will become a little most interesting. So for those who care at all, here is what my ears managed to notice and my brain managed to remember and describe for the day in almost chronological order (without repeats):

man talking (tv)
orchestral music (tv)
commercials
blanket rustle
futon creak
ceiling creaks (upstairs neighbors)
something heavy drop upstairs
click of mouse
tap of fingernails against various objects
wrist crack
toilet flush
running water
coffee grinder
cupboard shut
plastic bag rustle
dad cough
dad speaks with incredulity, then enjoyment, then annoyance
I mumble
dishes clatter
footsteps on tile
footsteps on carpet
swish of various things against other things
refrigerator open/close
sighs
breathing
knock on door
gurgle of coffee maker
door open/close
bending spiral notebook
pen scratch on paper
scratch skin
squeak of chair wheels
dad mumbles
brother speaks
computer whir
gulp
pen drop on paper
door squeak
rattle doorknob
light switch flip
clang of toilet seat going down
phssst of paper tearing
rattle of toilet paper
rattle of the toilet "pressy thing"*
plastic cup hit with toothbrush
mouse picked up and placed down
tooth brushing
water swishing in mouth
brother coughs
brother burbs quietly
brother scratching head
woman speaking (tv)
paper rustle
I/brother laugh simultaneously
dad laughs
typing
brief low buzzing from outside (plane?)
chair squeak
sniff
squeaky mouth sound
I clear my throat
I yawn
swoosh/scratch of combing hair
underwear snap
zipper
belt clink
keys jingle
suction of pen cap
suction of deodorant lid
sound of my love's voice =)
chewing grape
my love laughing =)
my love coughing =(
jing of metal being hit
sizzle on the stove
fan above stove
mouth click
shoulder cracking sound
glasses fold (snap snap)
toneful clang of pan
toneful scrape of pan
drip of water
phone ring
beep
koosh of koosh ball
locket clink
I say "Ah! Fuck!" in distress
I cough
Dad whines/yells my name.
I hum "Buffalo Soldier"
I sing "Buffalo Soldier"
microwave door open/shut
microwave running
beep of microwave
coffee being sipped
scratch of grape vine against strainer
flipper hitting pan
dad lecturing
brother yelling
dad ranting
sliding door open/close
woman speaking
potatoes chewed
shoe lace casing hitting against shoe
car starting
car sounds of accelerating and decelerating
classical music on radio
car doors open/close
turning signal
footsteps on concrete
pouring water w/ ice
car locking click and beep
seat-belt pulled/retracted
seat-belt click on/off
ice rattle in paper cup with hand movement
crunching popcorn
movie previews
movie: "Frozen River"
sneeze
cup squeak
background talking murmur
broom against carpet
soap disperser dispensing
footsteps on gravel
sliding shoe on pavement
distant whistle
ka-chunck of stepping on manhole
Indian man speaks in English
young boy whines in specific unknown Indian language
Indian music (tv)
peeling a label
computer start-up
air from chair "shh"
plastic buckles click
skateboard on pavement
trunk click open
"chunck" of trunk closing
key slid in ignition
jazz music on radio. specifically "I can't make you love me"
young man speaks
shhh from distant cars on highway
squawking birds
viola strap squeak
minor buzzing from light fixture
floor creaks under feet
different, louder shhh noise
woman shushing me
Myself singing
snapping
ambient music
various rock songs
men and women speaking Spanish (online homework)
dishwasher click on
pouring dry dishwasher soap
glasses clink
dishwasher running
mom speaks
voice echoing
man speaks
box of oranges dropped on table
various other music from 5 star list
mouse scrolled
alarm clock button clicks

*In search of a word for the "pressy thing" on a toilet I consulted my boyfriend, Danny. I suggested "trigger", and dared for him to come up with a better word. He commented that this made going to the bathroon sound "dangerous and exciting" like a gun. To which I answered, "Isn't it already? You have a loaded gun in ur pants, Danny, gotta pull the trigger."

self portrait

2009-02-09T20:14:00.000-08:00

No, not metaphorically, I really did attempt this in the literal sense. Sitting in front of a mirror, I spent an hour trying to sketch myself. Possibly, it says more about the way I view myself than it does how artistically talented I am. I really am a wannabe visual artist. Although I think I do have some natural talent in the matter, I rarely have the patience or overwhelming desire to spend a time fussing over lines and shadow. It's not entirely amazing...but there are aspects to my facial structure.

And with it, a picture of myself more alike to what I have drawn than any other I own.

Attempting to draw is always such an enriching experience for me. First, because or the rarity of the activity and also because of the strategy and mindset so differing from other mentally strenuous things.

When I begin to draw, I always have anxiety in a sense. I don't want to start off the sketch on the wrong foot, the wrong line, the wrong original reference point. The first line is always erased 20 times or more. Obsessive? Yes. Even moreso seeing as how that line is usually changed once the other lines around it have made it slightly askew to your new point of view.

Often, if I saw myself drawing from learned "ways to draw something" I had to snap out of it, and erase. What was I looking at? Draw what you see. I obviously struggle with realism, but it is the only way I will learn how to capture the actual appearance of things. If this mindset did not help I had to think harder about what I was looking at. What detail is it that makes this look like it curves more or sticks out more in the mirror and does not in my drawing?

I have learned these things today regarding drawing:

Draw what you see.
There are no pointed shapes in a human face, except those which are for reference.
It is best to draw a figure starting with the innermost attributes.
The spacing is always farther than you visualize, and closer than you originally aim for.

I do not think that I am one to think visually. My mental pictures are usually hazy, unless I spend a very long time examining and thinking about every detail of something while I view it. And even then, I can only remember the details, not the over-all appearance--or even worse, I can only remember how I felt while I was looking.

That's it! I (or rather the human race) remember things by way of feelings. And I suppose, if I were better artistically talented then that would lead to many Impressionistic art pieces.

well, i did it

2009-01-22T11:24:00.000-08:00

After all of that "should i? should i not?", I finally did decide. I finally did quit the dance team. Over the next few days I expect to be hearing a lot "oh, why did you quit?" I also expect to hear that from the people whom just recently realized I was a member several months from now. I will tell them something about my grades or some such, when that was only a minor factor to my decision. I quit because I felt stressed out. It was no longer fun for me to stay at school for 12 hours a day and deal with bad directions and bad practice time communication. I really don't have enough time for homework, but the real problem is that I have no time to "be". No time to chill, no time to think, no time to do a blog post or clean my room or pursue things which will actually lead up to my future possible professions, of which dance is surely not one. I have not the talent nor the money nor the heart nor the stupidity to try to make a living off of a dance career, but I would love to continue taking occasional classes to learn technique and various genres and have fun =)

Dance team changed from a fun activity to an excessive responsibility and stress place. And with experiencing the team for a semester I am now appreciating the joys of free time and relaxation. I have time to see friends if I please, put thought into homework, and enjoy my high school career not by force or default or mental and physical strain, but by my own leisure and social and contemplative nature. I suppose I took the free time for granted, feeling I needed to have an activity. I do need activities, but with being a team member, there was no room for anything else I had the inclination to pursue or had an interest in. By comparison to being on the team, getting my homework done and feeling at peace to do things slowly and constructively is a breeze. =)

So I'm feeling good. Really really good. May be the smartest decision I ever made. It was hard doing so, feeling attached to and accepted in the team finally, but dance was never really a passion. It was mostly a slight natural advantage and inclination which I thought might be the only team sport which would bring me somewhat joy, hating exercise as I do. It was fun...and it did tone up my body quite well, but it was hard work and stressful. I am a very lazy and laid-back person.

It wasn't working for me. Only select parts of me; the parts that like exciting giddy, surroundings at competitions and the part that likes to learn, when picking up choreography. Perhaps the part that likes to perform, the part that likes to dress up prettily and have people do my hair, and obviously, the part that likes to dance. The excited, giddy me is best not shown, or should be used and expressed in different surroundings and applied more constructively and creatively to go to my benefit and not a team. I can learn anything, and perhaps this mental determination should be directed towards other skills which would help me in other ways or which would give me better grades or a better self of the self. Performing, I will have to find some way to compensate for, perhaps joining drama club or making youtube videos. I like dressing up, but I can play barbies with my boyfriend's little sister and put on make-up when I feel like it. I don't need dance team for that. And the part of me that likes dancing? There are school dances. I managed to do without it every day before I joined the team. And this energy and dancy spirit can be transmitted into my daily mannerism and movement, which makes me seem more myself, and not tired constantly. All of these substitutions, or re-substitutions shall I say, will give me more time and more joy than the team.

I'll always remember the team. I have a $130 uniform and a semester of exhaustion and peer praise to remember. I lasted this long. I won't get to "letter", being put on my résumé, but I don't care. The 4 years of Spanish and Orchestra and Math and Science and English and History will make up for my lack of sports, right?

for you, mr. taylor

2009-01-11T14:31:00.000-08:00

With the help of my brother, I wrote this in html.

Math I have to think about more abstractly to be interested in, especially geometry. Memorizing names of different things that are obvious and logical anyway does not intrigue or impress me. Figuring out that two hypothetical triangles are congruent or similar does not interest me when I never cared in the first place. I have to think about the theory, the abstractness of it, to get any meaning at all out of the information.

This program is a statement about the first semester of my geometry class, completely composed of triangles. When I open my 800-page math book (which they expect us to bring home every day, yeah right) to a random page, 80% of the time there is a right triangle on that page. I know this is a bit hypocritical to use programming to make a statement about math, when the two are so related, but it really proves it even moreso.

(I like theories, I have a fascination with them. But when I am being forced to do labor related with the theories, and am not allowed to explore the theoretical ideas with my own interest and curiosity, then I can not "get into it", and I become easily annoyed at facts that are both obvious and new to me, for they are beaten to death. It's all about mindset. There are some times in math that I feel like blowing my brains out or sleeping, just to be able to stop listening. I can't help it, I can't not pay attention to the words teachers say, it's impossible for me.)

Anyway, my statement is that three points is space is three points in space. I don't care what their angle measures or side lengths are if they are continually changing and moving.

So measure that, sucker!!! AHAHAHAHA

a symphony experience

2009-01-02T19:08:00.000-08:00

I need some help. Musically inclined/pursued readers of this post, give me your insight.

I went to see a symphony. A semi-professional mediocre symphony, but a symphony nonetheless, comprised of talented adults. For a few of the songs there was choral accompaniment.
I would like to know if there are vast, distinct differences in conducting techniques between different types of conductors (solely choral compared to solely orchestral or solely wind/brass/percussion.)

The reason I ask this is because the different sections of the performers seemed out of sync. Ignoring the plainly confused percussion section, the brass instruments seemed a stall behind every beat that the stringed instruments played. It seems the choir is used to excess instruction and when neglected by the conductor, also lagged somewhat. Ignoring the rushing 1st violin section with various instances of displayed differing bowing, I saw the viola section heavily influenced and overpowered by the brass instruments in the back whom were not playing with the rest of the orchestra exactly.

Also, I would like to know the basic tendencies of these three groups in comparison to each other. Do brass instruments not pay attention to tempo changes signified by the conductor, just moseying along as they listen to those around them? Do they tend to rush? What about a chorus? Are they apt to drag or rush or meld? Does being in the back of the group of performers cause the singers to not be able to pick up on tempo changes quickly enough? The orchestra? Do they slow down on most occasions or listen to each other moreso?

Maybe there is something in the way of acoustics which make one instrument or voice ring longer or be heard later which I am not accounting for because I do not know much about it. The auditorium was not completely professional and catering exactly to having the best, but I was sitting 4th row center, so my placement shouldn't have been a problem.

I suppose what I want to know is, why was this group seemingly together in sections, but almost hard to bear as I noticed their differing interpretation of the conducting. He seemed like a wonderful conductor, but why, why, did it not sound together to me?

sidenote:

For while now, I have began having a grudge against the jazz band, for they leave puddles of spit from their instruments at 0 period for the orchestra students to step on and get on their cases during 1st period. (I'm sure I have mentioned this). My running slightly obscure and moderately entertaining joke to my fellow violists and the 2nd violins is "Dang, if this keeps up I will be forced to give the band a bucket for Christmas." (Even as I am Jewish, the holiday still deserves a place in that joke as long as my audience is mostly comprised of Christians.)

Seeing as how "the holidays" have passed, I can no longer make that joke anymore and I am actually now considering doing this for real. When I told my mom about this, she made a suggestion to make this obnoxious gift idea into a practical joke: flood the band room with spit. Or maybe she said that at least it isn't as obnoxious as a practical joke as it is kind of nice in some ways, and I suggested it. I can't recall. But either way, she gave me the idea. And as the school is being moved anyway, I see no problem. It might be hard to obtain such a large quantity of spit though... all I need is enough to cover the floor. =) That will show 'em. hehehe.

why i like jazz

2008-12-24T18:02:00.000-08:00

Jazz, I love. There is no genre of music that can replace the amazing, profound, pristine and lazy feeling I get as I listen to jazz. It is the perfect romantic, friendly, sophisticated, or relaxing background noise. It makes any normal setting seem sexy, personable, witty, perfect, peaceful. With just a slight and easily made change of mindset I can turn my full attention to anything else, and then when I choose to, change to being completely immersed and overwhelmed and into the music. It can be that main event or the reason everything seems so peachy-keen. It can take my mind off things bothering me, or it can give my thinking time about that thing a bias towards laid-back ideas and easy ways out of predicaments, and makes dramatic decisions seem meaningless and natural. It is one of the few genres that actually lessens headaches, not increase the intensity of them.

Some jazz has lyrics, some jazz does not. Lyrics are rarely the main event of the piece, and it only adds another line of melody. But, if there are lyrics in a piece, then it is most likely due and well crafted, and thus should be paid close attention to.

Jazz is my personality, or at least how I want my personality to be or how I feel my personality is at my best. If every time you meet someone new, you could have them listen to some jazz instead of actually talking to them (assuming in this alternate reality that it would be normal to listen to a song instead of having conversation or making introductions, and not rude or odd in the slightest) then wouldn't that leave the coolest impression about yourself to that person? You would walk away looking like you knew how to do everything in the most efficient and stress-free way.

I like jazz because there is never any image in my mind while I listen to to any one song. Let me explain. When I listen to rock, I might visualize the band or myself playing the music, or think about the words and have a little scene or images running through my head, to help me visualize what it is saying and what it means. When I listen to jazz, I know it doesn't matter what it means, because it can apply to so many things, so I am allowed to focus on the feeling. When I focus on the feeling it gives me, I can think about when I have had similar feelings in my life, and am I often impressed by how well they portrayed this in the music, regardless of whether it was their specific intention or not to describe a similar situation or feeling.

I also like the genre of dance for the same reasons. Seeing as how it is danced to jazz music and portrays the same feeling to the viewer as the music alone would, I still like it because it is playful and seductive and relaxing and intricate and peaceful and uncaring.

Listen to some jazz today. Stream my favorite radio station. Get lost in the feeling, take a nap with it running.

I also like jazz because saxophone players and drummers are hot. =P

maybe, maybe, maybe

2008-12-14T04:30:00.000-08:00

If a secret wish, a classified desire, becomes a reality and one dismisses it or does not give the honor it deserves, or on a whim, rejects it, one cannot help feeling as if their original feeling down for not having this thing was severely uncalled for. It makes this person doubt if their sadness is true when it comes about on the next occasion, or if it is just another occurrence of something they truly don't want, but only take joy (or have just become accustomed to) in thinking about and theoretically wishing for.

One option is that I am too hard to please. When even my most thought of and wildest fantasies do not satisfy, perhaps even repulse me, you have to wonder if I would ever be happy.

Maybe I am just emo for the hell of it, whether or not my dreams are being fulfilled or not.

Maybe I did not know what I want in the first place.

Maybe my wishes are too real: what would I wish if given the opportunity? Most likely some kind of thing regarding someone I knew, that most likely will happen anyway even without the magic of wishes. Maybe I think too highly of simple things and assume them as so far away and imaginary so that I can have some kind of dream when really they are not that glamorous and not that hard to obtain.

Maybe the sadness is always unjustifiable. What I have wished for truly is great and I am here too afraid of my own heaven. Worried that it will be messed up, ashamed that I wanted it in the first place, self conscious about myself (not wondering how the 2nd or 3rd party would view it), afraid of commitment to my wishes (my fantasies ignoring sore facts about myself and my dislikes), and not considering everything else in my life situation before I made the idea.

Maybe I wish for things in such an unrealistic way as to never ever have it a reality, and then when I know I will not obtain it, I force myself and trick myself into settling for less, thinking it was my vague wish all along. Maybe I never specifically wished and anything remotely surprising and pleasant that happens I refer to as a dream come true.

Or MAYBE I just over-analyze everything. I do... but I swear that these are all left over "maybe" ideas, not things running through my head currently about actual options.

And no, this is not about you honey, not about you at all. Girl scout's honor.

finding the words

2008-12-14T02:11:00.000-08:00

There are some things I would like to say, some experiences I would like to share, but I really can't. What I need to do is be able to say something, without admitting to it. Release my feelings on the matter and derive the meaning and revelation from it without obviously giving away my experiences. Why can I not tell you? I couldn't say that, for that would make it obvious.

If you find this post random and disjointed then I apologize for not being able to make it clearer. I have nothing to hide but everything to fear, and every reason to allow. Read this with careful consideration.

Who am I but me? Who is the other but themself? Who are they when they make these choices?

What is life but for living? What is love but for feeling? What are relationships but for indulging and relenting?

Where will it take me? Where will we go? Where am I but here?

Why do things happen but for the hell of it? Why is this happening but for good reasons? Why don't they know?

When will it end? When can I leave? When is the time but now?

I am not waffling or nervous as it seems I am with all these questions. Most of them are rhetorical, hints, or there just to throw you off. I'm not confused or anxious or self conscious or discombobulated or baffled. I'm not letting myself go against something I have set my mind to, nor am I doing anything or thinking about anything rash. I'm not convincing myself of something that is obviously false or true avoidable or unavoidable.

I'm simply letting my faith get the best of me... my faith that my speculated fear has no need in the current situation. I'm letting my brain catch up to my feelings and the rest of myself.

I just hope that my fear is not justified, my brain will catch up quickly, and that I can go about this with as much natural instinct and pleasantness as possible. But yes... I feel good about it. Whatever "it" is.

extended metaphor

2008-12-12T19:59:00.000-08:00

I used to think that the pond was shallow. That all the complexity and emotional intensity people seemed to think of relationships and social situations and life decisions and tasks of the world were fake, exaggerated, unrelated to my life, and avoidable if I remained a bit more clever than the general population.

Then I stuck my foot in the pond and thought it deeper than I originally speculated. It seemed that I could be hurt when I didn't know how it was possible before. I saw that I had reason to be scared sometimes and that fear is sometimes not all fun and games. I knew how quickly lives can change dramatically, triggered from the smallest and seemingly insignificant factors. It was seen how strongly someone can feel, without even conceptually knowing the reason fully themselves. Also, the impact of life events and epiphanies on mental health and mood was obvious. The direct correlation of action and consequence and acceptance of action is more real than my younger self viewed. Possibilities seemed endless and I was taking precautions to protect my life and everything within and effecting it.

But really, the amount which I stuck in my foot was very close to it's full depth. I judged too soon and assumed it was far more complicated than it was; thinking it to be near the reaches of infinity as space is even as I only had circumstantial and brief evidence. This is not true. With knowing so little, I would be able to get by my entire life being no more stupid than others regarding my decisions and choices. Even though something could be and theoretically is as deep and expanded as space, it does not mean that the people in it are doing anything more complex or differently were they in a farther small place regarding limitations of complexity and reasoning.

Should my mindset be as if the pond is a shallow or deep?: The bottom line is that I could make the best decisions from much consideration of what the world is and how to deal with it and the idiotic people running it, or I could be one of the idiots contributing to it and enjoy the ride. God knows there is so much to learn, and a lot of it is worth knowing and discovering. But should I be hung up on knowing the reason for everything constantly? Nah, I'm just too lazy and it is too stressful. This does not mean I let my life go to shit because I think it does not matter. I care about myself as much as anyone does. I just get tired of going over the logistics of it all, if that makes sense.

Another thing: Having respect for and listening to and taking advice from people who are older than you is a valuable tool. What we are assuming when we do this is that they are you, essentially, but older. Who wouldn't want advice from themselves a few years from now? Would they not tell you how to do things more efficiently and enjoyably? We are also assuming that the world has not changed as much since they were in your situation, and that you will have the same opportunities and feelings.

These things, we can not assume. We can not assume that you are of the same social status and of the same intelligence. We cannot assume that you do not have more self control than they did or that you are psychologically different. We cannot assume that you have the same amount of determination about a specific thing, or have the same priorities and morals. People are different, and people do not want to listen to people who think they know better. Even if they do. And I hate people saying that "You don't understand yet, but you will." Because they don't know that I ever will, and they don't know that I have not yet experienced it and they do not know that I would not fully understand if they were articulate enough to describe it to me. Who cares if you "know"? You learned the hard way, I will too. Everyone does and you can't change that, and I am not going to base my life on the blind faith on something someone said that I either do not think I will be like at that age or that I respect for far different reasons than what they believe about life.

Life views are so vastly different at different stages in life and with different people that you cannot assume people are in the same position. Blanket advice does not work. Blanket advice, no one listens to.

9 years ago

2008-11-27T12:54:00.000-08:00

I hope my inner child does not resent me for this. I am about to reveal her inner most thinking and beliefs to the world, and she has no power for it is in the hands of her very different, older self. I have talked of my younger self before. But that was interpretation of something I showed to my parents, not something which I kept hidden and secret.

When I was 6 years old, apparently I kept a diary. Not every day, but I have quite a few entries. After quite a bit of deciphering of childish handwriting and sentence structure I have gotten to a pretty good understanding of what I meant by everything I wrote. Not necessarily why or how, but in most cases what. I do not really feel like scanning them and letting you decipher it for yourself, so I will give you my best translation. Things unsure of in translation in brackets, while present-day comments are in the pretty color.

December 14, 1999

When the birds go
flying, you go to bed
and when they go
sometimes you go to
mountain.

This is interesting. It's like I have a weird misconception about how things effect each other. I would assume that "when the birds go flying" I would be awake, the birds signifying morning, but not according to this. Was I reflecting on how I never seem to see the birds? Do the birds represent something?...or are they just birds?

December 15, 1999

Jon's house is up.
They helped us.
The secret part [is to go]
up and up to get there.
There is Jon's house.
Where I love to play.

I really like this one. Obviously, I have a playmate named Jon, and his parents helped my mother find their house via phone directions. This was my simplistic view of directions...."up". I love it so much.

January 13, 2000

Animals are wild.
"Very wild"
"Daddy, why are animals wild?"
"Because they are born that way."

Apparently this is a conversation with my dad. I am not sure who was saying the first dialogue, maybe my dad. I should ask him to see if he recalls telling me this.

January 17, 2000

On a day like this
I'll be having a picnic
On a day like this
(there are more verses in this song)

I am pleasantly surprised to see that I wrote songs way back when, I wish I recalled or notated the melody. But ignoring that aspect, I really like the word choice. It not just "today I will" or "yesterday I did" or "someday i should", it's on a day like it. Maybe not today or tomorrow or any day in conceptual knowledge or realistic speculation, just some day, like this.

January 18, 2000

This poem is called When I go to school

When I go to school,
everything feels so different
because school gets harder every way.
It is fun for me.
Is it fun for you?

This is a little discombobulated and not much of a poem, but it really shows what I thought about "when I went to school". I admire that in a title of a poem.

January 19, 2000

This poem is called When I go to bed

When I go to bed,
I hope to dream
A [?] if I do
Because I love my dreams.

Again this "When I ___" formula of a poem. It's quite interesting and matter-of-fact. I am glad that I hoped to dream, and I wish I knew what that word I could not decipher said.

January 21, 2000

A family's a brother,
a father, a mother,
a sister, a grandma,
a grandpa and
everyone in your family.

Although I did not have a sister, I still included it in the definition of family, so I was more than saying "this is who is in my family", or "you only have a full family in you have these people", I was saying that if you have some of these people, you have a family. The perspective is still in child-form of course, no daughter or son or granddaughter or grandson or niece or nephew in the list, but that is expected.

January 31, 2000

Laughter, ho, ho, ho
One day I was drinking some milk and my brother made a funny sound and it came out of my nose.

This was my idea of funny...and it kind of is. When finally I understood what I wrote here I actually did still laugh.

April 10, 2000

Today we got to go to Hebrew school.

May 22, 2000

It is time to go to Hebrew school. I do not have a class but my brother does. He knows how to write Hebrew and read Hebrew. It is cool. Well, I do [think that], but my mom and brother do not.

June 16, 2000

A song I made up.

Baby fly into my heart.
Take it out, put it in your hat.
Put the hat on, feel the [?]
You should see me go bad.
All right now, all right now,
I don't know the way to my heart
but you do [a-huh?]
The end.

It seems very Edgar Allan Poe crossed with Britney Spears. And cute how I end with "the end".

June 16, 2000

This is a poem

Summer is coming
The sun in near
Take out your hats
And they'll be blown away.
See the sun shining in the earth.
Will we feel it's heat here next year?
The end.

June 24, 2000

Today I went ice skating. I glided until I landed on my bottom. It was cool. I cried 1 time. I fell on my bottom 7 times--well, around 7 times. I love to skate. [It is] my favorite [thing to do].
The end.

June 30, 2000

The world

Is it good or
is it bad?
The little seed in
the earth.
How does it get to me
When I am not earth?
The end.

A profound one... I would love your interpretation.

July 7, 2000

Parents are so great. They kept us safe through the years and gave us joy. I'll love it through 7, 12, 2073 and all the days.
The end.

Now, was I prophetically telling the date of my death at 79 years of age or was I just making up a random, arbitrary, far away number to signify a very long time comparable to forever?

Some of them are moving in their simplistic nature. Some of them make no sense and others are so true to someone of that age it is hilarious. I hope you enjoyed the window into my younger self's life, for this is the only way I have to accurately show it to you or to myself. These are not hazy memories, they are explicit ideas directly from my brain then to my brain now, and they are simply fascinating.

voices

2008-11-21T23:43:00.000-08:00

I'm not hearing them, if that's what you assumed. I just want to speak on their behalf. Even though voices are the most outspoken of anything, they never speak for themselves (concerning their own existence.)

Over all, voices are quite an amazing thing. It's one of the many things that humans have trained themselves to identify slight differences in to discriminate one human from another. When I call the homes of my friends, I can usually (if I have called them at least once before) tell whether it is them or one of their family members who has answered by the tone and timber of their "Hello?". This is nothing amazing, most people have this capability, but I'm saying that even though I am good at it, I barely understand it and I find it amazing. I also find it amazing that with the slight change in someones tones or pauses that you can tell how they are feeling or if they are crying over the phone.

The Annoying Ones: In normal life and conversation, I usually hold nothing against people who talk oddly or annoyingly or immaturely. If their mouths are incapable of making certain sounds in the language for any reason, I can't blame them for that, and it usually adds to their character without much discrimination. If anything, it is viewed as a charming or endearing oddity.

But in performance, especially in performance where one's voice is a prominent attribute as it is in singing, acting, and professional speaking, a speech impediment or distraction is heavily annoying and confusing. Is this character supposed to have this impediment? Are they talking in this voice to make a point? How can they act so serious with such a hilarious voice? Why are they flaunting their voice when they obviously cannot speak without sounding like a baby? Why is THIS, of all things, their profession? Did they only get into this business because of their physical appearance? There is no way that their talent outweighs the disadvantage they have over every other person trying to make it in this business. And you may think I am being mean, but I am able to focus on the art people are giving me if I am not distracted by their voice and how they became popular and how disappointed they will be when no one can stand them anymore.

It is true that you could apply my third paragraph to argue my fourth paragraph. As interesting and differing voices add possible likability to people in sociable situations, so it may also in pop culture figures by increasing recognizability and relating to "normal people". How else do you think Fantasia won the third season of American Idol or that girl at my school manages to score a role in every play when she talks like a very proud 6 year old? I would be giving you my impression right now if you could hear me -_-

The Pleasant Ones: Every so often, I hear someone's voice and I decide that it is pleasant, that I would enjoy listening to their voice, even if it were saying nonsense or things I disagreed with. It is not whiny or inexpressive, not overly dominant or overriding in minuscule factors, not a monotone dribble with a nasally aftertaste or hinted with odd inflections and irregular pauses. IT isn't laced with annoyed sarcasm but has a charming wit and matter-of-factness that one would find in an old-timey movie. It is smooth and it appeals to me in some way, and puts the image of a good looking man or woman in my mind. Whether or not this be true to the actual speaker, the pleasant voice is still a very impressive attribute to any person.

erratic vs. direct dialogue

2008-11-16T13:27:00.000-08:00

I have always been a person that wanted to look composed when presenting ideas. Whether it be in confrontations or conversations, in presentations or questions, in opinions or facts. Even if I'm making things up or not making sense, I want to understand what I am saying, why I have said it and what it means and how it will effect the future. I want to use the best possible words to tell people the information in the most feeling-aware, concise and logical manner.

I have anxiety sometimes about asking favors or questions of complete strangers for fear of wasting their time, frightening them, annoying them or making them feel bad that they do not know how to assist me. When asking directions or the time or what isle the toilet paper spindles are in, I don't want to look like an idiot and I don't want for it to take longer than is required.

When I speak from my brain, without any thought preceding on what it is I am going to say, sometimes I say very obvious, hilarious, unreasonable or consequential things. When my voice is ahead or going simultaneously with my thoughts then I am speaking directly what I am thinking and I cannot control what I say. This is scary. To do this I have to know that I do not have any feelings that would be of offence to the person I am speaking to, for they may come out involuntarily. And I have to completely trust them.

Sometimes it is necessary to speak this way because I could not say these things under the decisions from precedents or conclusive thought. I have always come to some kind of conclusion to guide my words and actions for my current life situation. There is a mental barrier not allowing me to look like an idiot or screw myself over. And if something goes astray that is not included in my plans then I either have to think quickly or speak with my thoughts. If the situation is pressing and I still don't know what is the best action to take in strategy, then I just talk; and I may end up saying things that I underestimated or didn't even know existed in my subconscious.

This is why I encourage inner monologue or even better, monologue or asides to help individuals sort out problems (see poll to right). With only "thinking" you are basing so much of your proceeding actions and decisions on feelings. Feelings that are usually illogical or pertaining to something completely wrong or unrelated to the idea at question.

To say things directing from your thoughts or "heart" you have to have a deep respect and trust of your own subconscious. And honestly, I don't trust it. I don't think that I can go along in life being the same as everyone else, going along as life comes and goes or takes and gives. I cannot do things as if they will all work out in the end and as if my feelings are either infinitely important or completely insignificant. I am better than that and I have the sense to trust my myself only until my frontal lobes catch up with it. Let me explain...

You see, there is who I am, and there is who I am. Let's rephrase that: there is who I would be even if I had met different people or had a different life or grew up on a deserted island, and there is who I have chosen to define myself as and what morals to follow based on the society I live in and what I admire in others. If I speak from my heart then I am subjecting the world to what I do not even know about myself, part or all of the person who would remain the same. Things that could be controversial or ill-spoken. Things that would hurt my friends or give me a bad reputation. Things that I never wanted to admit though they were thought, or even worse, things that my subconscious never wanted to admit. Things that I feel so guilty or distressed or traumatized or fearful about that I do not address, even to myself. How can I let myself be so transparent, so vulnerable, so open and honest that I am telling more to another than to myself?

I trust myself more than I do other people, but maybe I'm just lazy. I don't want to deal with my own problems or make more of a deal of them than they are. I don't want to seem screwed up to my friends or make them feel like I ask too much of them. I mean I don't actually need someone to tell things to, I can do that myself. And I don't need their advice, I do that fine myself also. It's not as if I have so many ideas that I cannot choose between one thing and another, I am quite decisive. I just want to seem as if I know what is going on. Composed, intelligent, wise. Even if I am not this way, I want to believe that I am to myself and to others, it's part of who I am. I don't want to be living life as everyone else is; changing my mind, looking like an idiot, causing personal distress.

Who knows, maybe I just like feeling vulnerable. Maybe it contrasts with my usual role as the more informed, advice giving, compassionate friend, and I find it interesting and exciting. Maybe it's a test that I did not even conceptually construct to see who really cares about me and who will give me the best consolation. Maybe I just like feeling like the baby, the little one, the trusting one, the dependent and expecting one in a relationship. And if I am not in a position to usually act like this then I have to regress sometimes and make myself feel like I am controlled, cared for, and protected.

In conclusion, I feel that what I say, at most times, should be a conclusion or a question with conclusive properties. All conversations include stream of consciousness, but when a conversation is in an emotionally insecure state, I need to either be in control of my feelings and my responses, or be with someone that I completely trust and respect.

one of my best poems

2008-11-09T15:08:00.000-08:00

True Happiness

admire the simplicity of life
and weep of it's complexity.
mother the world
with your watchful eye.
take the world in
with deep breaths.
calmly fix your mistakes.
allow your frowns
form to smiles.

2 non-words

2008-11-04T23:14:00.000-08:00

Sometimes in this blog I have been inclined to use a word that did not exist. For clarification, if you noticed them, they really do not exist.

manipulatism (noun): the practice and philosophy of being manipulative

newfoundly (adverb): in the nature of being newly discovered

But aren't they great? =D

obama

2008-11-04T21:46:00.000-08:00

Is it redundant for me to say? Does anyone not know what this day is and what America has accomplished in the advancement of political leadership? Barack Obama has won the United States' presidential election. *screams and shouts of excitement and celebration coming from yonder* So what does this mean? It means he beat the other guy!

My first political memory is this day 8 years ago, the announcement on TV that George W. Bush would be our next president. I remember my dad using some foul-ish language even in tame mode for the 7 yr. old in the room with him, and I didn't really understand. "It's not that bad, is it? How bad could it be? Why do you care so much?" were the things I was saying and thinking. Kind of ironic isn't it? My brother at the age of 10, I'm sure understood the situation better, but he wasn't foaming at the mouth. My entire political memory is the Bush administration. And because of this, I think that my generation does not know how much better a democratic executive branch would be, and does not take this factor into account when choosing their party and representatives. So many of my friends just recently of voting age did not even register. A week before, I asked if they were voting, and some replied "oh shit!". Some just said that they didn't know who they would vote for so why bother? And others didn't care, they would rather go to a movie with their girlfriend of 3 days and slobber all over her than take a little time to fill out an absentee ballot. My dad says that "things just start working better" under a democratic president and legislature. I don't doubt it, but there is definitely a bumpy road ahead to change and fix what has occurred. I'm sure most of us can agree with most of this.

And for my Canadian friends, I'm sure we will be playing nicer with the other kids in the sandbox. Who knows? Maybe we'll trade juice boxes at lunch with you and you can teach me how to play doctor the way you do. Maybe me and that Mexico girl will have a better agreement about the wall between our forts at playtime. You can explain to me why you have two mommies and together we will go out in the sun during recess instead of sitting in the corner digging holes like we used to. We'll make a great friendship, Canada.

slight monocle obsession

2008-11-03T21:01:00.000-08:00

In commemoration of día de los muertos, my Spanish class required us to decorated skull cookies today.

I realize now that the mouth is completely misplaced for being a skull shape, as well as the eyes should have been lower.

life balance

2008-10-31T20:34:00.000-07:00

There are things that are necessary to do, and lives that I have to live. Obligations, requirements, inclinations, and unavoidable necessities that need to be kept in sufficient ratios to keep an enjoyable, prosperous, easy-going, productive and non-neglecting lifestyle.

These:

eating/sleeping
school life/homework
dance team
viola and guitar practice
love life/sex life
socialization with friends
various hobbies (blogging, listening to music)
family activities/interactions and obligations
personal time (plain thinking)

are hard to balance properly within my life. What is my top priority? My second? When choosing between the party of a dear friend and seeing a movie with my family, where is the priority? Lately I have had no time to watch tv (save a little on weekends) when I really do enjoy The Office and House. Frankly, I would rather blog or listen to music or think or waste time chatting with friends. But that's when I really should be doing my homework or making plans with a long-lost friend.

Most debated in my mind is the love life factor. As this overlaps with social life I am known to think that they are interchangeable. They surely are not. Is a love life just an extra thing I should have if everything else in my life is completely taken care of, balanced and secure? Or is it something that will relax, steady and put my life into perspective of what is most important (whether it be the relationship itself or not).

The way I figure it is that I will always have some certain bare minimum of procrastination and personal time that I just cannot live without, so I have to work my life around that, along with sleeping and eating and such.

I think as long as I stay happy and I have OK grades, that I am fine.

historical personification in theory

2008-10-30T18:31:00.001-07:00

To get the "big picture" of a wide time time range of historical events, one learns the "most important" things, and tried to make sense of why large groups of people did the things they did "over all".

At what point was it that there was so much history one had the resources to learn of that one was resorted to personifying countries and social classes as individual people? I know it seems kind of redundant to be personifying people, but it's just as one personifies a bug. You guess what they are thinking by their actions, for have no way of knowing their thoughts

Do large groups of people really act as one? Are we referring to the majority of the population of that country or the governmental decisions alone? If it is governmental standings then yes, small numbers of people and wide statements representing a large population can be said to have dialogue. But still, how accurate are we in those examples? Quite a bit of history is inferred and deducted from hazy scriptures, badly translated texts, dug up toenails and word of mouth passed down from prostitute ancestors. I am not debating science. I am just saying; 1) who cares? and 2) aren't we all just people going around doing things? How would you feel if you never mattered in the story of 21st century society in textbooks later on? That no matter how much you went against the majority or the anti-majority, that you would never be remembered as a blood-thirsty absolutist tyrant would be remembered and mentioned in textbooks?

An individual rarely thinks about how an outsider would view the changes in trend and political movement, and how they are either part of the majority or against it. There is the now, and there is the then. The now is the now, and it will always be the now. Hell, even the then is the now for an individual, it's not too often that someone sees the changes they are taking part in as a historical event. Or perhaps the opposite; everyone sees everything going on in the now forevermore important, even though in a 26th century textbook it will be viewed as a bland, peaceful, perhaps even treacherous time that that child will yawn to. It makes me so mad at that futuristic 8th grader. PUT DOWN YOUR VIRTUAL SUN-BATHING GOGGLES AND PUT ON THAT HELMET THAT SHOOTS INFORMATION ABOUT THE 21ST CENTURY INTO YOUR BRAIN!!! Spoiled little brat. But the horrible thing is that I don't wish that I could learn more intensely about past times, because there is no intense information out there for me. Those times are boring in theory as these times are boring in theory.

But I do like the idea of speeding through all of history in such short summary. The idea that I have been everywhere and know what happened even though in reality I would need a time machine and a boat to know is pretty cool...in theory. Sometimes I just really don't care. I mean sure, it's interesting, but there is only so much interest I can have before i get tired of being interested. I want to be confused and angry and pleased and relaxed. I don't want to be constantly trying to know how the hell this or that lead to this thing and how 37 years went by with nothing theoretically important happening.

The very fact that I can get bored means I am not going fast enough and putting in enough personification for it to make sense and be interesting. I like social issues between people. So when countries and social classes are displayed as individual people, I can see why they ended up doing what they did and how they went about doing it.

But this does cause problems. Certain things do not make sense until I have a reality check and remember that these ARE very large groups of people, and that they will act differently than an individual. Things are harder to be kept secret, it isn't as easy to begin and end fights as instantaneously and it isn't as easy to stay in mental stability. If countries were individuals then they would all be bi-polar and crazy and homicidal and suicidal and dominant and submissive at the same time. These would be some very messed up people with some serious issues.

Heh...what if I were a country? Would I play nice with the other countries? Would I share my juice box with them at snack time?

antiquated vernacular

2008-10-28T19:15:00.000-07:00

Often I use archaic and obscure language in modern settings to convince people of my respectfulness or sound more sophisticated than the meaning of my words is actually conveying. Some examples of such would be similar to this:

"Over yonder, I presume" as opposed to "Somewher over ther I THINK"

"Excuse me young gentleman, could I trouble you for the time?" in substitution for "Er um, shit forgot my watch! Hey, you, uh what time it be?"

"As do I" instead of "Yeah I know right?"

"Indeed", "How true", or "Indubitably" in place of "Yerp"

The funniest thing is when I mix in one sentence some wannabe ghetto terms or speaking styles with the inaccurate Shakespearean language. It takes some deciphering to comprehend meaning as I am not using usual terms consistently. Even more so when chatting online I can mix these two English language variants with 1337 speak; num83r5 1n p14c3 0f 13773r5, mssng vwls, and acronyms (lol). Taken to the level of pure incomprehension, I am known to throw in a spanish word every now and then to make it even more confusing. This takes superior brain power, and often I get annoyed at even myself for the odd image and character I am creating with the wirting style.

Has your bubble been burst? I am not a perfectionist, overly descriptive, precise or an informative writer. Or am I? I enjoy manipulating language. This can be executed various ways; one of which is to convey the meaning that I have to say, but do it is a long and entertaining way filled with my stream of consciousness on the subject, which you have seen on this blog. Another way to manipulate language is as such being described throughout this post, making people work for your meaning and being as eccentric as possible to make the normal things said be found newfoundly and unnecessarily interesting. (Not to mention the words I just plainly make up, hence newfoundly.)

That will be all. For now muahaha.

update

2008-10-26T03:31:00.001-07:00

My newest favorite word is splendid.

strictly geometry

2008-10-26T02:23:00.000-07:00

There is a point in someone's life when the details of their private life is beyond the line of decency in normal conversation. Sometimes you have to bite your tongue and internally smile or frown. The conversation becomes shaped around automatic and predictable responses to personable questions rather than further insight into either participant of the conversing or the happenings in their lives, which were the topics currently under speculation from the beginning queries.

I don't complain about being forced to have this objective at times. My angle is to tell the people who want to know and keep select segments of my life under the radar to the people who do not care.

There are certain properties about myself which make it difficult for me to control myself from bragging or venting to people I barely know.

I can get around this by only giving fractions of my private life to each person. And if somehow they all converse on the same topic then they might be able to figure out the entire story, but I doubt they have the mathematical minds to do such a thing.

one who has heart

2008-10-23T14:56:00.000-07:00

Preface: Sometimes I wander between self consciousness and egotism. Between confidence and self belittling. I am used to being praised, and when I am insulted I take it hard. Is it jealousy? Meh, I've concluded sometimes it is. But it can't always be. Is it because people hate my personality? I doubt it but it may be true; some people clash, fight and breed awkward and confused silences in comments and understanding. But it is not the words that come from other's mouths that disrupt me deeply and make me question if it is all a lie. It is my own criticism backed up with hard evidence that I suck when I know that I thought I was great and I tried really hard. That's when it is unavoidable.

There is a culture in America concerning "heart". I am not sure if it is present in other countries in this exact form, but it is most likely slightly in some regard with religious, cultural, or moral ideas. It is the thought that one who tries their best with, or more culturally accurate, better than their best with good intentions, should and shall be rewarded for their efforts and personal determination.

In that statement I disagree with the words; shall, personal determination, and should. It would be a great world if this were true. And it is not a bad thing to live by in a lot of cases as long as one stays within jumping distance of reality. But it goes against my personal philosophy.

If I want to better myself at something, people need to tell me I suck, not that I have heart. Living in the mindset of a bettered image of one's self causes a black hole in the psyche between reality and understanding if the illusion is somehow broken.

Should: If one sucks, what gives them the right to win, to achieve? Is the world fair like this? I would not be myself if I didn't follow what I was good at. I like things because I'm good at them. Things I am not good at or would be good at, I rarely like. Who are these people who like things they suck at? People who grew up with overly encouraging parents, people who plainly suck at everything, people who grew up with people telling them this one thing was "the shiznits" and they have nothing else to strive for, and people who don't know when to quit. Do you respect these people? In theory, yes, they have their dream, they work for it morally and humbly and respectfully...but aren't they also selfish, ignorant, maniac, obsessed, hopeless, helpless, desperate, childish, and painful to watch? Should these people really be doing what they are?

Personal Determination: If I suck at something, I do not want to humiliate myself in front of people obviously trying but failing miserably every time. If it causes pain, don't do it. If you don't feel like it, don't do it. If the only reason, or most of the reason for one's doing something is being praised for how wonderful one is at that thing then there would be no reason whatsoever if their talent was lacking or nonexistent.

Shall: Heart perpetuates the idea that you can succeed if you try. And it is completely untrue. You can try with all your might and still fail. You can give your all and be thoroughly disappointed. You can never give up but still die. You can use all your connections and still get cut. You can do nothing else and screw yourself over. You shan't, you shan't, you shan't.

I don't care if I have heart. I would know if I had heart. Having heart does not define me.

But I am a hypocrite. This slightly goes against another personal philosophy of mine which is: If you believe it, then it is as good as true. And it applies here. As long as you think that you rock then you do.

Afterwards: It was not at the point that I realized I was a hypocrite that my situation subsided. It was when I realized there was no way out of humiliate myself and I had to go through with it and make the best of it. If I was going to be humiliated, I better be looking cool in my mind. And that meant giving it all and making a mental fool of myself. Well, I swore in my friends. If I sucked then I would murder them in their sleep if they did not tell me the truth. Thankfully, I did not have to get my hands into any illegal business (well regarding that anyways) and my friends greeted me with awe and praise at my non-suckage. Was it all in my mind? Was the evidence faulty? Did they lie? Were they too far away to see me looking retarded? Am I hallucinating? Or did my mind in that half self conscious state transform me overnight? Does it matter? No. Because I rock again, and egotism is at an all time high.

One last note: Rudy=bad movie

hippie preaching

2008-10-08T18:43:00.000-07:00

"Do it or I'll kill you."

Doesn't this phrase, among scare you and shock you...sicken you? Just the thought that human nature could be so much more savage and uncompromising and down to the main point than we are supposed to view it. We are supposed to have faith that humans are above other animals and that we can be above the horrible truth of life...that it's about preventing our personal death.

We still use this technique so much..."Do it or I'll kill you." Or sometimes used "If you do it I'll kill you." We are saying it every time a person holds up a gun. In fact, on a more natural level, we are doing it every time we give a menacing look.

I want to know, am I the only one who gets this feeling? Isn't threatening of death is just a little too real, a little too vital to be threatening all around every day? Bang. Dead. Instant death. It's sickening. I mean granted, when it comes down to it, that may be the only way to get people's attention...but still. I can't stand it. I'm not sure if I've ever been that close to gun. I have seen them on cops that sometimes are security at school dances...but other than that, I am sure I would be very very frightened if I saw one. My parents used to check when I was younger with a friend's parents if they kept a gun in the house before I went over for a play-date. The didn't tell me this until a few years ago, and I was kind of shocked by it. I don't know why I was, maybe because I thought that a gun shouldn't ever come between two little kids running around and playing hungry hungry hippos. But I get it now. Guns kill people. That's their purpose. They kill. And what reason do we have to kill in this suburban place we live? None...it causes more danger than it does protection. The fact that people have a gun demonstrates that they have fear. What's more important is that where the fear is deriving from is death, the theoretical death of themselves and their family, which would inevitably be caused by a gun in the end.

You heard me. I said guns make more guns and perpetuate fear.

But maybe my younger self was right. Just because there is a gun, and people have fear, doesn't mean it will be used. People need placebos and things to set their mind at ease sometimes, is it really making me in danger? Have I crossed into the realm of over-fear? I mean, fearing death is one thing. Fearing guns is another. Fearing being in the far vicinity of one is worse. And as an odd fear, which I should address because I have, is fearing fear. Does this post not portray my fear of fear?

Living with nothing seriously threatening my life every day, I have learned to mostly ignore death. And when the subject of gun control comes up in politics I usually don't know what place to take my stance. But I do know that being held at gunpoint is a thing no one should experience.

We have come to far as a race to keep this simple and main forcefulness in everyday life...it's what is preventing us from moving on. Or maybe it is the only thing letting us move. If people weren't forced, by guns, to move in the same direction as each other politically and socially and technologically, would our technologies and social ideas be more widespread and intricate and developed? Or would they still be waffling around not knowing where to go? Would one person be in the same place that other person was a minute ago and then vice versa a few minutes later? Or are we actually evolving at the same rate, making us progress forward in the same way no matter if anyone is forcing us, by way of guns, to do so? Where would government and war be if we had no guns? (note: This is not about who was killed, even in large amounts, by guns that changed society, but how people have been able to make people do what they say by way of guns which changed society. Just in case you didn't follow what I said. )

I'm not sure if I made the point I wanted to. And I'm not providing any solution to the point you think I attempted to make. And I'm not disagreeing with the 2nd amendment, if that's somehow what you arrived at from the things said. I just dare you to disagree with what it is you found my point to be. I'm just giving my complaints and weirded out feelings and semi-disorganized tangent-like ramblings--something far from what I was originally going to say, but still did want to say at one point.

judaism...and other stuff

2008-10-05T23:10:00.000-07:00

I am Jewish. Have been all my life. My family belongs to a Jewish Renewal synagogue. Have you ever read the Wikipedia article of your own religion or group or city? You never think to because you think you already know about it. And you do, but you don't know how to say it simply and in the way an outsider would.

Anyway, it's only been in the recent years that I truly "got into it". Sure, I liked it when I was little, but little kids like everything. Then I went through a phase of being too cool for it, then I just dreaded doing any kind of religious service. Then I questioned the entire idea of God so much that I felt weird and uncomfortable or just so blase about reciting prayers and going to services that I didn't really define myself as Jewish. Then, I felt this pride, this obligation, this calling that it was important even if I didn't believe everything that was said. Especially with the sect, it does not matter that much if I don't truly believe if what the Torah says actually happened, or if when I say the blessing for chalah in Hebrew I actually believe that God is the ruler of the universe. It's all subjective and I can think what I want to think.

In the past few years, once I had almost all of the chants and prayers learned through reading peoples lips when they sang and hearing them over and over again (I never was very good at reading Hebrew) I started seeing the meaning, the objective, the joy and sorrow in them.

Then I started to respect the religion. And when I go out of my way to remark that I respect something or someone, I really do. And when you respect something, sooner or later you will start agreeing with it on some level, even if you did not when you began respecting it.

Then, I started enjoying it, of all things. Before, when I was "too cool" for it, I was just trying my hardest not to look like I was enjoying myself. That was suppressed into resentment at the time. But when I realized there was no point doing that, I began having fun. To see a group of people singing and dancing and rejoicing is quite the experience, especially when it is to a song you have been hearing frequently since you were a few weeks old. The religion is part of me, without it I would still be me but, how did I get here? I was introduced to philosophical ideas in Sunday school and I'm sure it has given me the mind I have today. I owe a lot more to the religion than I think I do sometimes.

Now, I see meaning. I look past the songs, joyful or sorrowful. I look past the stories, but do take them into account. When the rabbi tells us to close our eyes and pray or think, I do it. I do it longer than my mother does. I listen to what is being said. I analyze it and relate it to my life. I figure it's as good if not better than any other source of philosophical questioning and answers. And what is more is that what is being said I understand. I get it. And it makes sense.

I love religion that not only allows but encourages you to make your own judgment, and set your own morals and reasons. Judaism gives just enough enforcement for it to all come together in your mind with perfect ease.

I still have not have had a batmizvah, a right of passage in Judaism. I wanted to, and my brother had a barmitzvah, but my mom never made as much an initiative to make me. Maybe it's because I was supposed to make more of an attempt to do this, seeing as how it's a ceremony of me becoming an adult. But my brother didn't even want to have one, and she forced him to. Is this why? Because he didn't want to therefore she thinks I don't want to? I want to have one, I always said that. Maybe it's because she thought she needed to do it for him because he didn't like the religion as much as I did, so she knew I would continue even without it. Mainly, at the exact time, it was because we were low on money. But why do it for him and not me? I think it's one of the things I resent her for. It was held over my head by my brother for awhile and it is still held by myself. Every time I go to synagogue I remember because I do not have a talit. And everyone in our congregation gets confused because I have not yet had one, and yet I look quite older than 12. -_- That is embarrassing. It's a different kind of humiliation because they are more understanding and warm and friendly than most people are, but I am still embarrassed because they expect things of me and I expect things of myself which were not achieved.

I will have one eventually. Maybe I should make that my summer goal. I'll consider it.

Anyway, why was I saying all this? Oh yes, I wanted to talk about the High Holidays but figured I should give some background information on why it is relevant and important.

It's High Holidays!! Yay! Rosh Hashana occurred last Tuesday and Wednesday and I took the first day off from school to attend service. The Jewish new year has been my favorite holiday for a few years now, ever since that one where I actually felt cleansed, happy, spiritual after going to service. Rosh Hashana is all about thinking about the things you did wrong the past year, letting them go, and making your goals for the next year. Honestly, I didn't quite make it to philosophical and mental cleanliness or peace this year, but it made me think. And it gave me a reason to analyze what I do wrong and how I can avoid conflict with others and with myself by adapting my behavior and mindset.

WARNING TANGENT ALERT: Mindset is everything. It's one of the words I truly believe in. And it seems an odd word to decide to believe in because it is so theoretical and changing in circumstance and only relevant to one who explores their psyche. There's no way to prove it exists. But, I see it as more real than say, the word chair. A chair is only seen and processed by the mind. And depending on your mindset it may look like a chair or something completely different, right? So, why not go straight to the source and believe in the word that analyzing the very thing you are saying in the first place?!
TANGENT ENDED: RESUME FOCUS

I still have a bit of time before I can announce the spiritual awakening amount of the High Holidays this year a failure or not. This Friday, which I shall also take off from school (take that AP European History test) is Yom Kippur. I will fast all day. I kind of see this holiday as: "If Judaism didn't get to you the nice way with sweet apples and honey, it's damn as hell gonna when we starve you!" Well, it isn't as hostile as that but, you get the idea. It's my second chance. I don't think I was "in the zone" as much as I should have been last Tuesday. I was more focused on ridding my faults of the past week, as they were a little high in multitude than normal, rather than thinking about the entire year and all my tendencies.

But, Rosh Hashana was a good experience. A few weeks before service I got a call from the congregation requesting, well more like telling me, that I do "something" for the children's service. Every once in awhile they ask something on a teen to do something or another. Last year I "did" the food drive. Really all I did was make an announcement and stable some fliers to paper bags, but everyone was very thanking and complimentary. I felt a little guilty because I made sure I only had to do the minimum of work. Hey, organizers can pon off work and get the most credit. But it's also the most stressful. You aren't a worker bee, you're the queen. If you stop doing your job then the hive falls into pieces and the bear steals the honey. Alright i honestly did not mean to take that analogy so far, I deeply apologize!

Anyway, I waited until the night before (when all great ideas arise) to figure out what to do for the children's service. Being the good Jewish girl I am, I googled "Rosh Hashana songs" and picked one I recognized; the more mopey version of B'shana Haba'ah. I youtubed the song and picked out the notes on my viola. I kept the note names in notepad and when my mom came home she helped me with a passage she thought "sounded different". Now, she isn't the most on-key singer, so it took me awhile to figure out what she meant by "higher on the second note" or "di, di, di", but she knows this song well and she has an ear, so I took her word for it and tried my best. I ended up realizing I completely overlooked the key I was in, which would have helped me out in knowing what note was wrong, and felt really stupid when it was an Ab/G# all along. She was right, it was not the right melody, and I thank her for helping me with that. It was fun, as it is when we talk about the word choice in an essay I am turing in. When she is singing a song she does sing the notes correctly, but it's not as if she's a musical genius and could tell me how exactly something is off, sing happy birthday in the same key I start with or compose music, but she was as good of a help as anyone else would have been, save a musical genius.

SIDE NOTE: The notes were never "wrong". It's just that I play viola, so I am used to hearing the harmony predominantly over the melody. But seeing as how I was going to play solo, it was necessary to have the melody so that people would recognize, enjoy and understand what I was playing.

In the actual performance in front of about 15 children and their parents, a woman, who was my Sunday school teacher when I was very young, sang the translated chorus along with me and encouraged the young ones to also sing. "You will see, you will see, how good the year will be." I played OK. I should have done it a little slower to start off, because I got a little tripped up from my own letter notation of notes on notebook paper, but it was good enough. I saw a lot of awe in the kid's eyes when I finished, and it pleased me. Not to mention the endless thanks from parents and congregation members when they heard me preform or heard that I did preform.

SIDE NOTE: A lot of times I act surprised or modest when receiving thanks or getting praise. "You did such a wonderful job." "*slightly confused look* oh! oh um, thank you, the pleasure was all mine." Even if I am expecting it or would be disappointed if I did not get any, I still act that way. Why is that? I mean granted I do get it in unnecessary excess at times, but, who's to say I don't thoroughly enjoy it even so?

More to come on other things later in life...most likely later today.

word

2008-10-05T02:55:00.000-07:00

I have come to learn that most words people use I don't think are real. This is because of various reasons.

Sometimes it just strikes me that a word...is funny. It's just random sounds. And although I know the intended meaning, I can't seem to get over the fact that it doesn't seem like the words around it. I get a reality check on what language is--various sounds understood widely to convey meaning. It creeps me out to feel that what we depend on as a society to communicate and function is completely fabricated and so borderline to nonsense. It's as if I am that close to being completely useless and helpless in this society, if only I had the barrier between my thoughts and language or between sounds and processing. How much of our brain is really accomplishing this? It can't be much. Perhaps this is a factor of autism.

Sometimes I just don't...get a word. "How could that, of all things, be a word? Why is it even in our language?"

A lot of times I just don't believe in a word. Not morally, not physically, not conceptually (I don't even know the exact definition of this word, but I am SURE it fits here), not socially. I just don't think it should ever be used. And I think that the world is better off without it and I decide not to believe in it. If someone says it, then I remark to myself, "Pffft! That's not a word!" And these aren't cuss words, if that was the line of thinking you were following, a lot of times those fit more into the first category. These are words like "unique". It's so overused, misused and unjustifiably used that it has been thrown out of my vocabulary. I refuse to say it (this would be the one exception.)

Words...what a joke. I laugh in the face of words. Come to think of it, words don't even have faces. They are such cowards that they can't even look me in the eye and tell me what they mean and why they are here and if they are necessary. Words are a figment of our imagination, get real!

The telekinetic communication age will be much more efficient and less confusing.

lies! they're all lies!

2008-10-05T02:25:00.000-07:00

Lies.

Is it really that bad to lie?

What constitutes a lie anyhow? If I asked a question and one did not answer, would it still be a lie? You did not tell me the truth, is it therefore a lie? Is a lie knowing the answer and not saying it? Is it called a lie if you only say partial truth and don't specify on the rest well knowing?

A person who is completely silent can be a liar, can they not?

Does it depend on the guilt one has? It can't be that, for what if a compulsive liar feels no guilt for their lie? Is it still not a lie? Maybe it's, from a normal standpoint, the amount of guilt a moral person would have for this lie under the circumstances and knowledge had when the "lie" was made. (For instance, if I as a child had said that I liked marshmallow peeps, but later on despised them, it would not be a lie, only a misconception.) But that is nearly impossible to gauge.

Should an ignorant person be chastised for lies when they are only overconfident and know no better? If they should be then the human race is a group of horrible compulsive liars. Is there even any religious group who specifically recognizes lying as a sin? I'm not sure, someone help me out with your worldly knowledge.

Personally, I think I have cut down on lying. I do not see reason on most occasions to lie. I think I rarely just "lie for the heck of it". Who lies like that? Weirdos that's who. If I lie, it's to keep myself out of trouble (trouble caused by myself or trouble directed towards myself.) Sometimes I lie to myself. That one is kind tricky, but it can be done. Sometimes I lie to help out a friend in defense to or from authority or peers. Sometimes I lie for my own major convenience in relation to the other side's nonexistent inconvenience. ("Did you turn in your paperwork to the office?" "Yes.") I lie in the sense that sometimes I do not tell the whole truth to people I am talking to when they think I am spilling my guts to them. So, said in this way it sounds like I lie a lot. But the thing is that I do not consider them lies. I consider them living. What is life if you only state true facts and few opinions? All opinions are lies in some way, how could they be true if only so many people agree? How is "truth" defined anyway? Is there a truth fairy? (lol I'm sure it's been done don't praise me) I rarely ever state facts frankly, everything that spews out of my mouth is rhetorical or theoretical questions and opinions.

So yes, I am a compulsive liar. And I love it. Do I feel pride? guilt? Yes, yes.

why i don't capitalize titles

2008-10-05T01:35:00.000-07:00

Titles already have enough emphasis put upon them. First of all, they are the first thing that is seen in the piece of work, appearing first, and on top. Second of all, on a blog such as this they are appeared bigger and in a more visually interesting color. Third of all, I do not want to be too forceful in anything said in a title for it is not a separate point that is being made, especially in a longer post or work. It is only restating the most interesting or hilarious phrase or it is summarizing the entirety of the work with different word choice than the work itself. Fourth of all, I want to be weird and modern and slightly informal and eccentric. And I want to have a trend and stick with it. So unless I want to go back and change all of these titles, the deed is done and there's no changing it! If you can't fault or beat your own system then continue taking part in it.

The only part I disagree with myself on is the fact that I do not capitalize the word "I" in titles. It bugs me, but I know that it would bug me more if I left it the only word capitalized around all those lower-case letters. It would make me want to capitalize the first, and then the entire system would be screwed!

As an added bonus, if I put a title in all caps then you will KNOW I mean business. If you did not know that, then I am warning you now...capitalization means important stuff in title land.

I am rambling...but some things just must be addressed! No, no, I know I've become a fanatic blogger it part. No need to tell me I swear! I only want to live and ramble! If you want to avoid my rambling then never ever read the last paragraph of my posts! (They are almost always rambling about something or an attempt at a bad joke or completely unrelated anyway.) Look at me, I'm rambling about rambling. That's most likely why I feel inclined to keep on doing so, it seems such a waste to stop now. And the more I mention it within the text the more ridiculous it becomes! Oh dear now I'll never stop! Oh look I just did. Oh wait, I'm still going. Wait no I'm running out of steam...yes...right about....now. Dammit...now.

Somehow, other people think that upper-case letters are more neutral than lower-case. It makes no sense. Lower-cases are must more common in writing that upper-cases. Do they use upper-case more often because of this? The few makes it more important? Supply and Demand? What are we talking here? This does not apply in this context! Scrabble tiles, alphabet soup, letter of the day on sesame street show the capitalized version first, the was my English teacher writes on the whiteboard, it's all capitals all the time. OOH LOOK! LOOK HOW OBNOXIOUS AND BIG I AM! LOOK AT HOW MY INNER MONOLOGUE IS SCREAMING. EVERYTHING I DO IS IMPORTANT SO I'LL JUST WRITE EVERYTHING CAPITALIZED. CAPS LOCK IS MY FIANCE. I TAPED THAT BUTTON DOWN.

Get a life, people. Put your titles in lower case, it will make the world a better place. =)

poetic mindset

2008-10-05T01:33:00.001-07:00

Inner monologue the other day: "An empty blue hallway. Six blue doors open simultaneously, and out they come. The people are going to their jobs, in their clothes. The dead cat on the sidewalk is trampled by their incoming shoes. Lights come into sight over the top of the hill, and through mist a roaring mass appears. The bus is desolate. The driver still yet announces location. Ambition and purpose, meaning and attempt is no longer relevant. It's just them, on their bus, going to their job, in their clothes."

I know what you're thinking, I must have been depressed when I was on the bus. I don't think so though, I was just being cynical and entertaining myself with what I saw in an internally verbally descriptive way.

delayed interpretation

2008-10-05T01:13:00.001-07:00

There are some things that you do not question. There are some things you have gotten so accustomed to from your entire life that are so familiar that even if they are not entirely understood, you're never shocked by them. The Star Spangled Banner is one of those things. I don't think I ever have tried to understand why they are saying the things that they are in the song, but I have now. I don't know why I began thinking about it, but I did.

"Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?"

I never really saw the true patriotism in the lyrics. I never saw the pride and the happiness the author must have had. The last line is truly poetic. The image of a giant flag waving over the entire country, land of the free and home of the brave, is so inspiring and fantastical.

I've had pride in my school before, sometimes even my city, but never for my country. And I'm not saying I do now, but how could one not have any shred of patriotism for their country? On some level, even if I know the entire world hates the United States and that we are in an unjustified war and our economy is plummeting to the unfathomable deep, I see the aim when the country started, and I respect it. There are a lot of things and people I completely disagree with, but do honestly respect. And I think the emphasis on war in the Star Spangled Banner is a little unsettling in theory, but puts such a nice spin and view of it that it's OK.

At the minimum, I respect the author.

It's kind of a shame how lackadaisical so many Americans, including myself, are about their country. Sure, we may have good reason, or maybe it is influenced by the fact that so many of us are only 1st or 2nd generation Americans, but is it not righteous to root for your team even though it is a cheating, obese, oil guzzling team? Although the fact that so many different cultures are able to come together in "peace" and "harmony" is what emphasizes so much pride in our "free" country.

At the most, I love my country.

self explanitory long sentence

2008-10-04T17:41:00.000-07:00

Because of the restricting and concise essay format that my English teacher is insisting on, my only option is to manipulate my writing style to adhere to long, complicated sentences in order to fit all the ideas into my essay that I want to, and which he insists on receiving if he so will give me a good grade.

I feel like Charles Dickens with all these commas and semicolons and m dashes. For I must only have two "commentary sentences" proceeding a "concrete detail". And to do this I must dehydrate my wording which kills my writing style and "voice"! (Which English teachers go on and on and on about.) Also, I have much more than two ideas connected to each "concrete detail" because I am just deep and amazing in that way!

So how do I tolerate this format? I cram as much as I can into English language and be so annoyingly concise and deep and sickeningly detailed and never-endingly descriptive that he'll BEG me to use more sentences for the following essay! It'll work right? Or will I just become so adapted to the style that I take it up permanently? *shivers* Please tell me if I start doing this!!!

I may post it here when I finish, which shall be quite soon. I think it's turning out pretty well considering the circumstances.

this is my friend "im"

2008-10-03T16:25:00.001-07:00

im does not know how to use apostrophes.

Nor can he ever capitalize anything correctly.

im is friends with lots of people who use Myspace and chat and comment on Youtube videos. im doesn't like it when people use correct punctuation, grammar and spelling because it makes im feel like he is stupid.

The trolls don't like im. And im does not like the trolls.

This is im, I'd like you to meet him.

these cookies...

2008-09-27T12:35:00.000-07:00

There's something about them. I can't quite put my finger on it.

But they are weird. They are pre-done everything except the baking step. Oatmeal raisin cookies, it's very nice, but the weird part is that flavor...

I think it's nutmeg. It's a shitload of nutmeg. I mean there was so much nutmeg I thought it was supposed to be some kind of mint or cinnamon or licorice. But...it's definitely nutmeg. I'll consult the package later to confirm.

Other than that they are delicious!

i have (a) soul

2008-09-27T12:32:00.001-07:00

"My soul is composed of things about myself which my mind knows, but will never analyze."

What is your soul? My interpretation is that it is the core components to who you are, what you believe in, and how you would act in any given situation compared to others. So, does you soul change? No, but it adapts to what your life situation is currently. Or does it? Maybe it's the same, but you just haven't had the life experience to put more insight into it.

I'm damned if I know what I truly believe, how I truly act and why I do it. Sure I have ideas about this, my mind knows some of it, but will my mind ever analyze WHY I do these things and think these things? Maybe it will make sense generally, but it's not as if everything I believe derived from a memorable experience and epiphany.

Soul is often described as their driving force. "I've got soul." It's used by basketball players and jazz musicians, but why do they have soul? They don't know, it was never analyzed.

It's often described as something entirely linked to religion. In Christianity one's "soul" is eternally damned or ascended to heaven. Why do they have this faith of God? They don't know, it was never analyzed.

i am not in denial

2008-09-27T11:32:00.001-07:00

I have been told that I give good advice.

But I have also been told, although not that much, that I overstep my ground on advice; that I don't know what I'm talking about yet I still give them my opinion.

Some think I do this because I feel superior to them and I think that my first instinct is more valid than theirs. Some think I do this because I am just too good a person for my own good. Is it because I feel guilty if I don't help them? Is it because I don't deal with confrontation well? Is it because I have a fear of inconveniencing people?

Regardless of why I do it, or the connotation it gives off, is it an OK thing to do?

In a lot of cases, I help people. And even if they don't like my solution at the time, they thank me for it later. In a lot of cases I really don't know what their best choice would be. But I do know most likely what I would do and I let them see their options. I know that if I did not know all my options that I would often be making the wrong choice. And if they do not see all the options they have and the possible outcomes, then I fear they will make the wrong decision. It's like I am projecting my own fear of wrong decisions onto my friends, and I use the best of my ability to help them know if they are making the wrong one. It's better to know where you made the mistake than wonder where your life went to shit.

I am a fanatic about these things. If I have a decision to make, I either completely ignore it because of my lack of time and mental stability and focus and determination to accurately and thoroughly find a solution, or I plow through it. I find every minuscule thing that could and will go wrong and I have a set plan in my head so that I may act quickly when the moment comes to proclaim or take action on my decision.

With consulting people about problems, I am often "playing psychiatrist." With close friends it is more personal, more emotional. But if I don't feel connected with the person, I become a little harsh in my statements about their options, especially if it is a defining decision in their life.

If the problem they have is more philosophical, less critical, more emotional, I usually just be contrary for the hell of it. It makes them realize that their first instinct was right or it makes them rethink their entire situation. And I realize now that this is also most likely a psychiatric technique. This method does not work with very waffling and mentally unstable people. They often get overwhelmed with the options I put before them and become more distressed. If my plan backfires on me like that, then I give them my interpretation, and it usually sounds something like a-this: "Don't worry about it for now, relax, listen to some music. If ___ happens then ____. But if not then just remember, and this is the most important part, to definitely NOT ____."

In the end I feel kind of like a teacher, wanting them to answer the question themselves. Somewhat like a lawyer, trying to convince them of what I think is the best way to go about things. A lot like a nurse, helping them recuperate And on many occasions a bit too manipulating for my taste, like a lion tamer.

I find it sickening to leave someone in the lurch, heartless to not respond, or to make them (or make them think they need to) hide their feelings and problems. I think the satisfaction of helping them isn't a big part of it. I honestly feel their pain, and if I can't bring myself to do that, not ever being in a situation remotely the same, I share their fear, and worry about them.

But I wonder, why do people come to me with problems? Do I appear comforting? Am I the only friend they have that wouldn't belittle them or hurt them? Do I encourage them to tell me too much? I'm not complaining, talking to people about their problems is one of the biggest things about me, I've been doing it since 4th grade with the girl who could not for the life of her say "no" to someone. Maybe even before that.

mental near death experience

2008-09-26T17:06:00.000-07:00

There have only been a few times when I seriously thought, at least for a millisecond, "Oh shit, I'm gonna die." Once when I was in a river, a few times in dreams, and the first time I was about to faint.

Friday morning I was at the bus stop and the bus pulled over and people started getting on. My throat was dry and my head was woozy and there was pressure on the sides of my head and my eyesight was gradually turning to black from the bottom of my field of vision up. I bend down and start having to fight for air, maybe I was hyperventilating from the idea that I was going to faint if I didn't get some water. "Are you OK?" said the shadow next to me. "I need some water." was my response. I held out my hand somehow knowing she had some and at a close distance I could distinguish what kind of bottle it was. I took a sip, handed it back. "Do you want to go home?" "No, I'll go." was my response and I made it on the bus without falling over. My muscles had been aching since I got up 15 minutes prior, and the not being able to see thing was getting to me. I made my way to the usual place on the bus and tried to find a seat that didn't have someone in it. But it was kind of hard. I realized that this one didn't have a black blob in it and this one did, so I sat in the one without one. From the voice, I could tell it was a friend saying said "Hey Z, are you OK?" When I didn't answer, because of my lack of breath, he left me alone. I explained to him the situation the following afternoon. After a few minutes my sight was coming back and I stopped crying. By the time another friend came to sit by me I was seemingly OK.

I figure it's by dehydration, so I made sure I consumed water inbetween every class that day.

Not being able to see really is a scary thing. That is why kids are afraid of the dark and why black is considered an evil color.

If you had to choose, which would you want to keep, your vision or your hearing? Sight is vital, but sound is vital too. I think that the lack of sound would drive me mad, although my inner talking and singing would keep me company, and writing would be a lot easier if I could see. People's voices would comfort me, but the sight of them would perhaps even more. The lack of either creeps me out. I would really really really miss music. Playing it, dancing to it, composing it. But I do think I'd be pretty good at reading lips.

I don't know, it's a very hard question.

idealism

2008-09-25T22:28:00.000-07:00

Yes, it sure does sound like me. http://www.keirsey.com/

creative impulse and whim

2008-09-24T23:30:00.001-07:00

Do you like it?

fricking resricting

2008-09-22T17:49:00.000-07:00

TOPIC SENTENCE!!!
CONCRETE DETAIL!!!
COMMENTARY!!!
ANOTHER COMMENTARY!!!
TRANSITION!!!
CONCRETE DETAIL!!!
COMMENTARY!!!
ANOTHER COMMENTARY!!!
CONCLUDING SENTENCE!!!

Can't these teachers just let me be? T_T I don't want to live in fear, worrying that I accidentally put a commentary before a concrete detail! I don't want to get a bad grade for connecting my ideas too much! I don't want my essay to sound boring and robotic! Are they crazy? Why the hell can't I put my thesis in the middle of the introductory paragraph and transition from one paragraph the the next in the sly way that I do? Why must the first essay of the year for the honors 10th grade English class be so nail-scraping-against a chalkboard annoying and frustrating?
In other classes I just ignored what the teacher said and it ended up being, from the common sense of how to prove my point, in the format they asked for, it not more complicated and intricate, using concepts of how to use quotes and introduce new ideas in ways they have not taught us yet. It's no big secret...i just start writing. And with trying to incorperate and make understanding of everylast one of my half baked ideas, I end up with something I am really proud of.

But he doesn't want this. He wants an essay completely format. He doesn't care if everyone has the same thesis and the same support. Just wants to make sure that everyone has it this way for the first essay. Then apparently he will work us from that, up to where quite a few of us already were, except with more understanding of how we were doing it. I respect why he is doing it, and it makes complete sense. I just think that it is going to kill my creativity. Not to even mention my flow of ideas (refer to previous post).

I can't work forwards in an essay! That's perposterous! Figure a theme and thesis to start? What? How is that even possible? I want to cram every last one of my ideas into this essay as I can about this book to make me appear as genius as possible! Therefore I need to figure the theme that ties into the most of my half baked ideas as possible, but still yet answering the prompt.

This is the solution: I just need to make sure that I either write the crappiest essay I ever have and then throw it on next time with the greatest peice of work he has ever seen to show him the format was distracting me, or, and this is the better option of the two, still yet find some way to make my essay original and amazing. But then he will think that the format is working for me -_-

It's not so much the format itself...I loooove the format! I just hate this mindset. It's the worst mindset I could have. "Ok now I need anther commentary. hmmm, the teacher said to start with 'This shows that...' So, let's see here. This shows that the character is being mean." (If you couldn't tell, that quote was said, in my mind and to my regret, was in a voice that screams mental handicap.

"you are only as good as your typing speed."

2008-09-20T20:50:00.000-07:00

Most of one's time doing semi-creative work (not including the in-between periods of thinking to do this work) is spent translating ideas into words. If one is able to express their ideas quickly and accurately, more ideas will be able to flow, and the better their art or argument is for they have more interconnecting support.

It can be argued that recording ideas allows more ideas once you have thought of something and it has been recorded--none of your proceeding brain power used to try to remember what you have already thought. And it makes it so it is hard for you to skip vital parts in logic and make decisions based heavily on feelings rather than common sense.

But it can also be argued that the burden and slow pace of recording ideas inhibits your mental flow, and prevents some ideas from taking shape because you are pausing not to think still about your ideas, but to repeat the ideas you already had. This is basically nothing, nothing is being accomplished in this time, it is grunt work. This is what a page should do! Or some kind of modern machine equivalent! This is not a reason to restrict genius!

So until I develop the extreme mental capacity and focus to remember everything I think without recording until a later period of time, I will just have to improve my skills at thinking something different than what I am writing. Is it possible? Mwahaha!

Um, I'm not sure.

this is a statement.

2008-09-20T20:12:00.000-07:00

"As long as one person replies yes, and one person replies no to a collective question, anything anyone else replies has already been covered."

On many occasions a teacher has asked the entirety of the classroom, "Is everyone done?" When this occurs, I look around the classroom and if I see someone obviously still working then I say, especially if they are not responding to the question, so focused on their work, "No." I directly answer the question, even if I am done myself. Not everyone is done, and that person's unfinished status should be accounted for, not drown out by 3/4 of the classroom loudly and obnoxiously saying "YES". I find it highly disrespectful and distressful for the person still working, having to fight to get their answer across.

The question in itself is horribly constructed to ask of a loud unruly crowd of teenagers. The people you are directing the intention of the inquiry is to the theoretical minority of student who are not finished. You already know that there is a large portion who are finished, hence their original question. A better mass announcement would be, "Who is not yet finished?" "Are there any still working?" "Raise your hand if you need more time."

And that's another thing. Why is it impossible for teachers to have a test without at least one statement with a question mark at the end? It is really annoying? It makes no sense? They are up talking? It is impossible to answer something like that without inferring one thing or another? It isn't a question without a question word at the beginning?

Do you see how annoying that is? I mean, I can understand doing it sometimes. Like if I was writing someone's speech or inner-monologue then it might be appropriate, because that is how people think. They say something and then they wonder if it is correct so they add the upward inflection as an afterthought. But in a test? It makes me want to fault them in the space provided instead of answering their statement. "The 100 years war effected the social development in France?" "Show how to find 'x'?" "The word skating is a gerund?" "Translate the following words to Spanish?" "Mold slime is a fungi not a protist?" It just...is one of those things that really, really annoys me.

statistics unanalyzed

2008-09-19T13:40:00.000-07:00

"You are sooooo good!"

"Well I would hope so, I've been playing this instrument for 6 years. With the amount of time I've wasted on it, I better be good."

And it's true. My approximation is that I have played viola, in total, all my life, for 50 days or more. That is quite awhile, even though it's only about 2% of my time over the last 6 years. I'd say that about 35% of my time over the last 6 years, though it is sad to admit, has been spent sleeping or attempting to sleep. More than 14% of my time has been spent in school. And most likely 5% of it is spent doing homework. 8% of my time is spent eating or cooking. 10% of my time is spent doing other obligated stuff.

That 72% approximation of things that are unavoidable to do leave me with 28% free time. Almost 7 hours on an average day to do whatever I want. That's pretty damn good. But when I think about it, it doesn't seem much of an accomplishment to spend 2% of that playing viola. But...um the fact that I stuck with it shows that I'm determined? I just made myself look like I don't practice at all. =/

Honestly, I probably used to practice an hour a week outside of class, about the same amount I play guitar currently. But I really am practicing more now. Usually once during the school week and once during the weekend, and when I do practice it's usually for more than an hour each time now. Because when I do practice, I enjoy it. Although I enjoy it more when people aren't listening to me, or if they are listening to me they are paying their full attention and not pretending not to be listening.

Oh right. This post was not supposed to be about this! It was supposed to be about the viola itself. Excluding the people in orchestra, when someone takes out a violin or viola it people go "ooh, ahh." And I understand why they do it. When I first began playing I'm sure that's what I thought, and I still think it. Violas and violins are a prestigious, classy, fragile, expensive instrument. If someone accidentally gently bumps into my viola case they say "Oh my god I am soooo sorry!" And for awhile I didn't understand it. "That's why it's in a case, it's fine, don't worry." And really, the case works very well. As long as I have closed it, it is secure and nothing can hurt it. And if you play it so that a nice sound is heard, then people feel like they want to bow in front of you. I understand it, but it makes me laugh every time. I am definitely not the best player, I never had any private lessons, and although I have been 1st chair on many occasions, it is quite easy to do this when playing the viola. A lot of times I am amazed at myself for making such a nice B natural on the A string with my lame vibrato. Although a person experienced in the field would see something in how I could improve my technique, a person who is not would think it sounded nice because my notes are usually very in tune and I play with expression if I really like the song.

yarr

happy talk like a pirate day!

no connotation, just wondering

2008-09-18T23:45:00.001-07:00

I am often a manipulative person. I know I am frequently this way in conversation, but I can't be too sure about otherwise. Things I ask often have double, perhaps triple meanings. I ask things just to see what someone's answer is. I say things being both sarcastic and sincere, both joking and serious, both mocking and with contemplative repetitiveness, both truthful and false, and both belittling and respectful--both in my actual understanding of what I said and in how one would interpret what it is that I said. I mislead people with my wording and expressions to get the information that I want without admitting or denying anything.

And to be frank I enjoy it. Is it that I like feeling superior? Well, that is true with everyone, so that may be some degree of it. But I don't feel that superiority is a constant life source or habit or fetish or compulsion that I depend on. It's just fun every once in awhile to see someone squirm under your control. Able to see how your slight, or radical for the matter, difference of words or gestures have a direct impact on their reaction (especially if they are outrageous). Will this lead to--dare I say it?--sadism?

It's a bit correlating to the age old resolution to make someone stop bullying or tormenting or annoying you. Stop reacting to their actions, and they will eventually lose interest in doing these things. You could argue that if people did not want me to manipulate them then they shouldn't have acted unusually confused or shocked by something normal (well at least for me) I said. For this is what usually triggers the manipulatism in that relationship. They could just stop speaking all together couldn't they? Well yes, but this view is quite biased to myself.

My reason for doing this is partially to annoy them, see their reaction; whether it be shyness or confusion or praise for my understanding of how our conversation came to be what it was. But mostly, it is because I am testing them. I am seeing if they can weasel out of my traps and wordplay and sarcasm and theoretical and suggestive and rhetorical questions and only metaphorically related comments. If they have accomplished this then it makes for a very entertaining conversation, and I have started to respect this person. In good discussion there has to be the element of knowing what the other person will say and trying to throw them off so that you are sure they do not know what you are going to say. (Unless of course it is your catch phrase or inside joke, then by all means take part in saying it to make a break from intense dialogue and make the two of you laugh.) A certain amount of familiarity to normal phrases and word order fitting to an individual is unavoidable, but you want to keep the ideas slightly obscure and taking opposite directions in ideas.

I was about to go off on a tangent about respect, but then got, quite ironically, the opposite of side-tracked. It is rare, maybe unheard of, for me to all-around respect a person. I mean how could one respect a single person in every way? It's rare that I go out of my way and think "Wow, I deeply respect this person." But when that does happen, I usually don't agree with their values or sometimes with their view of life. Sometimes I don't agree with their fashion, conversation, thought process or socializing style, but I respect it. I respect it not in the sense necessarily that I think they are good and that I would enjoy having them. I respect that what they do will bring them joy and those around them joy in their life. They know where their values lie, and really do have a reasonable and wholesome set of them, and act under those values. If they have gotten to a good place in their lives and mental state under these values then I respect the ones that they have chosen.

NOTE: Attempting confusion should only rarely involve completely unrelated content, or plainly nonsensical words or sentence structures to throw off your confusee. At that point it is no longer hilarious that you are able to confuse them, it is just cruel. If you do that, then the conversation should immediately (with a given awkward silence) there after come to a close with "I'm just messing with you!" See? I'm not too cruel, nor do I engage in this type of entertainment on a regular basis.

emo culture

2008-09-16T14:49:00.000-07:00

Today there was a TA (teacher assistant) in my biology classroom. And I was thinking, "What the hell is wrong with this girl? She looks like she's about to cry." But she wasn't crying, or about to cry. I guess she is just severely depressed. Have we really come to a time when someone can looked obviously clinically depressed and have no one notice? Was she just having a bad day? This is what I thought originally until she started having a conversation with someone in the class. And I swear she was saying normal things, in a normal tone, and her body language was fine, but the facial expression resembled someone who is watching their child wander into a busy highway. It was completely throwing me off. I'll sure watch her more closely from now on.

"'omg' 'the' 'dance'"

2008-09-15T19:10:00.000-07:00

Yay overuse of quotes!

I went to the first school dance of the year, and the first that I have since enrolled in this high school. And you get a guess. Will I say that it was A) fucking amazing or B) the lamest thing I ever went to place your votes now. Highlight below to reveal the answer!

A!!!!!!!!

Just messing with you, it was pretty lame. Reguadless, I did have fun at some points in the night. Of the estimated 30 people whom attended, I danced with an estimated 15 of them. So I am satisfied. A tall Asian dude who had a pretty definite style danced alone for most of the evening. I began talking with him, commenting on how he danced half the time as if he had a pain in his side and entertained him with the mime-ish and performance art category of my moves.

A slightly less tall Asian dude entertained the entirety of the dance floor with his break moves, whom I had seen trying out for dance team. And in the following practice it turned out he made the team and said he recognized me from the dance last Friday. That, I was semi-pleased with. Only semi because he didn't mention if he found my dancing good or bad, just that he recognized me. But I don't think he would have remembered me had he not specifically seen my killer and signature dance move. (Of which is amazing. I call it "energy source". Maybe I'll make a video of myself doing it and post it.)

Two senior girls I had made friends with earlier in the week were wearing skirts and dancing spaztically. They were quite entertaining so I hung out with them a good portion of the evening. But they left early so I mingled with other bad dancers, and showed off some skills to the backup friend group I had originally met at the doorway.

The DJ was semi-cool. When almost everyone from the originally small crowd had filtered out 15 minutes to the official dance ending time, he asked for a song request. I think I yelled Green Day, somehow being the first thing that came to mind, but I guess he didn't have it. Someone requested Dancing Queen by ABBA, and believe it or not he had THAT. It was quite the scene, about 5 high schoolers dancing and singing along to this song from the 70s. I'm failing to mention the teachers on the floor for a reason, halfway through the song I realized this and got slightly embarrassed at enjoying the song so much. The funniest part was that the taller Asian dude hadn't danced more than a little foot movement the previous song, not his style I guess. But he seemed to get a second whim and really happy when Dancing Queen came on. He got so into it that at the dance's end at 11, someone had to yell to him to get off the dance floor (aka the cafeteria) as he didn't notice he was the only one still there. On that note, I assume the cafeteria is used in lieu of the gym because that amount of people in such a large space would be much more embarrassing and desolate.

Another note concerning the location of the dance. In comparison to my previous school, which made a very defined prohibition of any food or drinks at the dances, there was no such rule here. I'm sure they would have gotten a complaint or two had they done so..."But...but this is the cafeteria! If I can't eat here, where CAN I eat?"

general happenings

2008-09-14T20:17:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the vagueness of the title, usually they are more interesting and related to the post. But I am allowed one annual disorganized and unrelated entry, aren't I? I think that is justified and I won't stand here arguing about it with you! (Or am I just arguing about it with myself? I think I've been a little off all day.)

Alright, alright, I'm not quitting dance team. I'm in too deep, I get it.

Although no one was pestering me regarding that, which would theoretically justify my saying that, I felt as if I needed to clear the air, whack away this hazy green fog which I call my undecided decisions. And thus with that statement I have done so!

My writing style is getting really complicated and old-timey. lol

The "guy" came today and installed the high-speed internet. My dad was pleased at his, as well as his companies knowledge of the phonetic alphabet when he spelled something for his workmate over the phone through the code. I think I restrained myself from staring at the quite good looking man's body as he ducked under the table moreso than my brother and father would have had the "guy" been a woman. But knowing that they would have, had this been the case, I didn't deprive myself completely. Is this the result of spending time with the male gender? No, I'm not sexist. (And yes I know you did not say that, but let's run with it and assume you did.) In fact, I think I have more male friends than I do female. Wait wasn't that my point to begin with? I think I have what's called a half-baked-catch-22!

Um what else is in the news? Let's see here, brainstorming for general happenings but keeping it random and unrelated...I can't decide if I am undeniably amazing at this or so horrible that I shouldn't even try. Let's go with the latter.

And to close with a randomized quote. A quote which you must find for yourself where it is from if you really do care. It is loosely related to this post only when thought of in a general sense, but not a particular sense. So don't over-analyze or quote me on that fact.

"We're talking about the issues but we're keeping it funky."

The absentmindedness and obvious disorder of this post cannot and should not be held against me in the court of law. If so inclined to pursue your distaste for this entry by action of legal potesting then please comment with request of further explanation of my odd behavior on this evening before making any rash decisions. I am an unformally trained suidical negotiator. Anything you do or say could be skewed by me to make you have suicidal thoughts, be warned. Those responses of which I may give you shall not be quoted either. Unless you really really want to.

my comedic surface area

2008-09-09T17:40:00.000-07:00

That's right, it's not just a side! But the volume's contents is unknown thus far.

Alright that was lame, let's move on. This Geometry class must be getting into my head...

One of the most classic, easiest and simplest ways to make a joke is to answer rhetorical questions in completely obscure and unrelated ways. "Guess what!" "You finally DID harpoon that dragon in your backyard?! I remember how you complained about it eating your dog-food." OK maybe it's not that classic, nor is it that simple for the uncreative mind or the person who does not have understanding and obscure friends like I do, or for people who cannot come up with such ingenious original out-of-the-blue ideas at every possible angle and opportunity, but for me personally it is both classic and simple. I find online chatting a much easier place to use this method of comedy to the fullest of it's capability. You don't look as stupid saying something random as in real life, and they end up feeling like the odd one out for not understanding what you are talking about. And you can spend a few seconds thinking about what to say without making it obvious that you are trying to think of something funny. As an added bonus you don't even have to worry about how to say it, so to the reader it makes it seem that you are saying it with either complete seriousness or with severe sarcasm. Either one is hilarious in this circumstance!

This bit is quite discreet, not as funny as you would like it to be, and once you have done it there is no going back. (Unless you write it in pencil, then it's another story.) To all the Middle and High Schoolers out there, this is one you will appreciate and use for many years to come. On the inside cover of most textbooks (at least where I live) you are supposed to write your name, year used, and condition in which it was issued and returned to you. This is in case you lose it and it needs to be given back to you, or there is a filing malfunction and the books have to be checked for whom it was issued to. But I don't lose my books, and a filing problem is rare so I take my chances and write other things in that space.

Issued to: In this section I find it comical to reference to something inside the textbook. If I find an omeba in the science book or an interesting picture of Queen Elizabeth in the history book then I say that it was issued to that, and give the page number.

--------------------------------------------------CONDITION---------
ISSUED TO------------------ DATE -------- ISSUED-------RETURNED

The Ant on Page Two-------no thx--------book---------still a book
The Right Triangle p. 69---the past------horrible------slightly better
Directly Behind You.--------boo!----------old------------new
n/a---------------------------n/a------------n/a-----------n/a
me---------------------------today----------yes------------yes
you, obviously--------------you tell me---ditto----------likewise

Yeah it really isn't that funny. I shouldn't have spent so much time explaining it.

Also in the way of school related comedy purely for self entertainment, is to use lots! of extra! exclamation points! and smiley face =) when doing an assignment (preferably not in English class). The teacher might think that you are enthusiastic about the material, or trying to flirt with them, or have an overly optimistic view on life, but really, you are just being severely severely sarcastic. And severe sarcasm is the best of it's kind! Sure, a little dry humor now and then in good standing is always needed and completely optimal, but severe sarcasm truly lifts my spirits. Not only does it enhance my good mood to be discreetly but still yet protesting the annoying and painfully obvious and repetitive work, but just the sights of the exclamation points and smiley faces is a mood enhancer in itself. Kind of like when you force yourself to smile, it often makes you happier instantaneously. Even though the teacher will most likely not see them, and you'll probably throw away the worksheet after it has been handed back, the second train of thought not regarding the math or history or physics, but still yet tied in and responsive to the work you are doing, makes the work a little easier to do and a little less painful to first begin it. Hell, sometimes when I finish the last problem I am so happy that I am done that the last few exclamation points are truly sincere. =)

Oh, you make it seem like I'm enjoying school! :o OK maybe a little.

Off topic: Damn...this soda isn't caffeinated!! -_-

la fiesta

2008-09-06T16:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my birthday party was quite enjoyable. I hugged and got hugged more than I can remember. The more hugs the better, as I just decided that I always might say. It didn't rain, thankfully, and the grass was soft and green. 13 people came from the 30+ I invited. Most people don't check their email, some lived far away, and others had school sports to engage in. So considering that, I think the turnout was just perfect. It was enough so that people didn't have to be doing the same thing all at once to have a sufficient amount of people, so everyone was happy in the activities they engaged in.

I baked cookies for it, and they were quite good. There was soda and chips, a cake that my best friend brought as one of her many presents. Normal party food. Once the people got there we started playing hide and go seek in the trees. The childish game with a bunch of high schoolers made everyone laugh and smile. We played Frisbee and tag, and I played hacky-sack with a crumpled-up class schedule with the two soccer fanatics I invited. I think I held my own considering their prestige in the like. And I forced the party invitees to sit in the grass and play truth or dare. I ended up somersaulting from "the tree to the trash can" as specified by my darer. I got a little dizzy, but it was manageable. Nothing got too wild with the dares, so I was happy and everyone was enjoying themselves without the usual need for outrageous things to happen at parties for immature entertainment.

I am pleased at how well everyone got along. For the most part, they were all from 2 different schools, and yet anyone talking to one another was usually from different schools. The soccer players had things (mainly soccer) in common. My best friend, and one of the first friends I made at my new school had much philosophy and mythology to discuss. I was pleased at how my brother was able to make small conversation with some of the older boys I invited quite close to his age. One of my fellow sophomores who was climbing trees previously got in to a wrestling match with a senior I invited, and he did quite well for the obvious physical advantage to the senior. It was all quite peachy-keen and everyone had a great time.

My father took me out for a steak dinner afterwards and it was quite nice. He scoffed as I asked for mine well-done, but then marvelled at the fact that he asked for his "medium, a little pink" and it was far from that, much less cooked, to fit that description. It's all good, and I got a free Sunday from the restaurant it being my birthday. I got about halfway through it until I couldn't eat another bite.

the superior of two virtues

2008-09-03T19:20:00.000-07:00

I've always thought that quitting is never to be something to be ashamed of. If my personal drive and obligation are non-existent in something or not enough to make me want to do something, then I see no need to do it. And I don't feel bad quitting since I know that in the most important cases, I will want to go on. Sometimes I say to people or myself "Quitting is good for you." And, I honestly think that a healthy diet consists of a little quitting, a little cheating, a little bit of being scared shit-less, a little indulgence, a little depression. We need it all to feel human, and to feel like we can be human any time. An overdose of any one of those things can result in things going badly, but on the other hand, a complete absence of any one will cause mild to extreme neurosis. The cool teenage outlook on life is easy-going, half eye-lid closed, criticizing but uncaring idealism. I agree with that outlook.

BACK TO WHAT I WAS ORIGINALLY GOING TO SAY

To quit or not to quit, that is the question. Or is it?

I have told some friends about my dance team dilemma. No one told me to quit. And when I suggested this option, many supported my decision, but quite a few told me not to. That this in some way, I don't exactly understand why, would let them win. I understand what they mean, even if I do quit of my own accord, for my own reasons, they will think it was them who caused this. And it will feed their idea that they can push people around.

But should I care if they think that? No. If they are making my life miserable should I stick around to attempt to change their thinking? No. I don't want to change people as much as I don't want to be changed myself. It is not my obligation, it is not my job, it is not my problem to make them good in the sense that I think. I can't change this. I tried at one point to stop acting the way I had been before and tell them what I thought. I didn't disrespect them in any outward way, but I was demanding and harsh at points. This generated resentment in some of them, respect in others, and some still didn't care. That's as far as I'm going, it was the biggest statement I was willing to make. Immediately after that incident/discussion/argument, I went back to being the way I had. Perhaps even a little quieter than usual to make a point that I have inner strength or perhaps to show that when I have a problem I will tell them, but I had no problem whatsoever with them. (This is not true, I had plenty of problems with them, I just wanted to think that I didn't.) Especially when they use the phrase "the shit". Oh god how I loathe that phrase. That phrase is the "the [total and complete] shit".

Considering performance art (staying with the team to make a statement) I am too impatient to let people notice--since by doing that, they just continue thinking of me the way they did before. Someone intruding on their territory, someone not as good as them, someone who messes with the dynamic. Well do you know what I think? I think they mess with MY dynamic. Why must I surround myself with these people?

Dance. I like to dance. That is the reason I am wavering on. I know I can dance, perhaps proving them wrong would give me a good goal, a good mindset, and prove them wrong, free to leave any time I like with that satisfaction. But I don't need to prove myself to them. I can dance elsewhere. I'm self-assured. I don't need that.

I like the image. The dance team image. I liked saying I was on the team. I looked forward to wearing the jacket. But I don't need that. If I quit, I will be specifically getting away from these kinds of people that care about people like that. But I like it for the reason that it proves I can dance at one glance rather than the fact that I am on a team with popular and good looking people like "myself". I DON'T need that part, but it never hurts to have it.

I shouldn't be on the run from things that get in my way, but it is best to surround yourself with people who make you feel best, who are good people at heart.

But I don't necessarily have to hang out with them to be on dance team. I have done it so far. *laughs self-pitying and proud* I am really that impressionable so as to become like them? *laughs appreciatively* Yes! Of course I am! But if they hate me, there is no way I could become like them. For I am not one to hate myself. Although, that is why I started wanting to quit. They were messing with my self confidence, and if they can break that on me, they can break anything. I'm scared honestly. I didn't realize before. Not of them, or what they are capable of. That is nothing. Just of what I might become and what I could believe about myself. Is my current personality worth this? Although personalities change, I don't want mine to. No one ever does. I'm good, I'll stay where I am thank you. HEY NEVER MIND they can't change me. Screw that. I'm sure there are a few people who don't hate me, some of them talk, some of them smile. It's not that bad.

Maybe I won't quit. I like the exercise, I like the jackets, I love dancing, I spent all this time and effort already on it. Am I ready to go away right before all the glory and the fun?

But then again...maybe I will. I had fun while it lasted, that's basically all I wanted, some fun. But I also wanted some friends from this. I still haven't made any good friends or remote friends on the team in all this time. And it's not supposed to take this long to make a friend, there is something seriously wrong. I don't like the idea of being secretly hated and I don't like the idea of being the outcast or the weird one or the one everyone thinks is only there because this or that. I have AP and honors classes, so lots of homework. I have friends that will need to be seen on a regular basis, and I would much rather pursue Jazz at a studio.

So continue with dance team? I still haven't talked to Coach. At practice, whenever it is, I will though. I can't continue with these doubts like I have been.

here's the team last year
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jdkJAg3Xqs&feature=related

teenage rebellion

2008-09-02T17:06:00.000-07:00

I don't need to conform myself. I don't need to look any better or act any ditsier or change my hairstyle or clothing. I don't need to do anything about this stuff. I have gotten to a place where I am comfortable with myself. I am confident. Why do they think I need to?

I don't want to be on a team that doesn't accept me.

I don't want to be on a team that hates me.

I don't want to spend a lot of my free time that I could be spending with people who enjoy time with me, with people who mutter under their breath and talk about me behind my back.

They hate people doing that to them, but they are way worse.

They are hypocritical, bitchy, superficial, stupid, over-confident, annoying, boring, badly dancing, unnecessarily criticizing teenage jerks.

I want no part of them, I just want to hang out with the people in my AP classes and go to parties and then go to college. I don't need drama, I hate it in fact. And I'm not one who says that and then purposely creates it for the excitement. I hate it, and I don't want to be in the situation where I have to defend myself constantly.

As soon as I can find coach, I'm quitting. If she can talk me out of it somehow, then great, but I'm not sure if there's much she could say that would change my mind.

I deleted all of them from my myspace account. In their world that is really important and insulting =) I expect to pay for it through more rumors and talking behind my back, but I'm expecting it. And when I get off the team, I may just do a little talking of my own about them.

some of the musical experience

2008-09-01T14:04:00.000-07:00

I think that the most explainable musical discovery that I ever made was that 3x4=12. In the world of time signatures and counting I developed in a very intuitive way. I started in the school's orchestra 2 days a week in 4th grade on violin. In 5th I switched to viola and it changed to 3 days a week. We didn't have too much in the way of music theory besides a one-hour class once a week throughout elementary school. And what we learned about music in there was learned but didn't "click" in the minds of the students the way that is optimal.

After playing an instrument for years, I started revisiting the same basic theories that had been presented to me for years. And they made perfect sense. I realized things about counting a 4/4 time signature in triplets, making it seem as if in 3/4. And counting 1-4 only on the down beat of a 3/4 song to make it seem as if in 4/4. Then other time signatures made sense, and rhythms were able to make out without hearing it first. All of this happened so quickly because I knew all of this before, from the total immersion of music, I just didn't know exactly how to explain it in musical terms. With being able to do that, it let my mind know that I understood things. I had been so young that I didn't realize how I was learning all these things. The words made to describe what I already knew "clicked" very fast. Musical immersion at a younger age makes it so much easier, for I think that notes and pitch are something that is much harder to be learnt through literal meaning than through cognitive understanding. There is no word for a note other than higher and lower. Later in life it hard to understand the raw thought first, and the words describing it secondarily. For as we get older, we have such a beleif in our language and our surroundings that we rely on the fact that the words will tell us, and the commonality of human minds will make it so that decifering what these words really mean will be easily done.

For the longest time I didn't know what the names of the notes were. I knew the string names just from the repetition of my teachers refering to them, but for the msot part I just corrolated where the dot was on the staff to where I put my finger down. Honestly, I didn't know that a low 3rd finger on the G string was a C natural (hands down without hesitation) until about a year ago. But with adding a literal piece of information (the note name) to this highly responsive and automatic corrolation of notation and action, it changed the way I thought about music--or rather, it made me think about music for the first time.

Because of this, when I listen to classical music, sometimes I have to force myself to listen to it rather than thinking about the dynamics and tone and timing. When listening to rock and pop since being classically immersed, I find myself able to focus on the harmonies, bass line, and rythem. Sometimes I find myself having a deep respect for the melody of the lyrics. But most of all, I love how I can just listen to music. Aware of the count it's on if asked at any one point, understanding why I like the harmony, and interpreting the lyrics. I find that I enjoy songs for years if it has an interesting verse melody, but I get tired of it fast if the only good thing about the song is the semi-catchy chorus and a hook or two.

thought: all notes are the same. The same song can be started on any note, and still be recognized.
related bragging: With my eyes closed, and not using the black keys for reference my feel, I can tell, by tone, which keys on a piano are C. It helps if the piano is tuned.
unrelated yet corresponding thought: all colors are the same.

All about that for now, more later.

jazz in extremity

2008-08-30T21:34:00.000-07:00

Wednesday I went to the last dance practice of summer. I am to start school in a few days. We have a new assistant coach for the team. She does not know any hip hop, at all.

That's a good thing. She has years of experience in ballet and jazz. I'm hoping to learn a lot of technique from her. And should I ever decide to quit dance team, her studio is only a short bus trip if I wanted to take a beginning jazz course. =)

The stretches and workout we did before learning the combination took it's toll. That day I slept on the floor (having a sleepover with a good friend) and when I woke up most of my muscles ached. That day I managed to do my laundry, but it hurt walking down the stairs. The pain is worth it, and I'll get used to the way I'm using it to dance and it won't hurt later on in the year. Plus I'll look real good doing it. yay.

Unrelated: Funny story, that morning I accidentally flushed the toilet paper spindle down the toilet. Long story short I felt a lot like this guy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QiBpuGY6lQs&feature=related

In other jazz news, Friday night I went to see a latin-jazz band for free in a public setting. Some of the drum work was interesting. My impression was that the back up singer played the drums was better, but the lead singer on any sort of percussion got real annoying real fast. It was a relaxing and interesting background music, but I don't think that this genre will catch on in the states. I don't know how it's doing in primarily Spanish speaking countries though.

Dear Picasso,...

2008-08-30T19:21:00.000-07:00

The impressionism show at Seattle art museum has been going on for a few weeks, and will last only another few. So as a treat before heading back to school on Tuesday, I went on a nice outing with my dad to see it and have lunch in downtown Seattle.

His father had been an artist, and so the knowledge passed down added with his own art knowledge about different styles and famous artists made for great conversation about the pieces. My own addition of the banter with interpretation and noticing of interesting perspective and detail and color seemed up to par with his, and we took our time gazing at each piece. We spent 3 or more hours there looking at them, going through the entire impressionism exhibit twice, and then took a quick tour of the modern art in the museum--most of which had been seen from our last visit.

This is my understanding of the impressionistic transition: Before impressionism, a painter's goal was to make their painting seem as realistic as possible. Even when you are not painting something that you can see in front of your canvas, something from your mind, it was considered that the more detail, the closer it looked to photography, the better the painting it was. With impressionism, people were breaking from this rule and mindset. Sometimes less is more, so to speak. You could paint your general impression of what you see (hence the name), not just what is in front of you exactly. Only one part of the picture could be in detail, others in haze to de-emphasize importance. The real-world perspective may be lost. The colors may differ. It could look more like a mosaic, have more solid color, or look as though it has been painted in a frantic or simplistic way. It's what the artist sees, only altered to give the viewer the same feeling and impression. Other artists took this to a new level with added surrealism. Impressionism developed into modern art today, which is sometimes seemingly arbitrary, representative, and minimalistic.

Anyway, that was my impression. =P

I do remember the painting "On the Wall Above" being in the museum next to the statue of the giant black mouse from my previous visit, but I hadn't read the letter in the painting. It started with "Dear Picasso," and went on describing his life and referring to the painting on the wall above (in the painting) and how he finished Picasso's unfinished painting for him. For Picasso died while painting it. The entirety of the painting was obviously in Picasso style. This made me laugh...a lot. Especially since I had overlooked the hilarity of the piece the first time around.

I got my share of culture. It's always nice to have a thing or two to be snobbish about on occasion...and I have done this! mwahaha. But I did thoroughly enjoy myself, and I did learn a lot about some famous paintings and famous artists, which is helpful and enjoyable. yay.

Here were some of my favorite paintings:

Jean-Honore Fragonard
A young girl reading

Francisco de Goya
Still life with Golden Bream

Claude Monet
Summer

Mary Cassatt
The Family

Pierre-Auguste Renoir
A Bather

the image

2008-08-27T23:58:00.000-07:00

For so long it wasn't that I didn't care what people thought, but more that I didn't know or understand what people thought. Then I started caring. I don't know when I crossed this line exactly. Maybe when I stopped playing with barbies or when I got my first boyfriend. Maybe it was when someone criticized me for the first time, or when I criticized myself at first.

I have grown to have a pretty big ego. It may have happened when I started telling myself I was pretty, or when people started complimenting me. But it happened some way or another.

And through this ego and my capability to make friends rather quickly, I have come to think that, if my mind was set on it, I could fit in anywhere. I could hang out with nerds and the goths and the preps and the skaters. With the cheerleaders and the debate team and the sex-crazed boys and the honors kids. I have done all of this at one point or another. But I think that one day while I was playing yu-gi-oh in the corner with the outcasts, that the gap decided it's place and it parted. I didn't have any definite friend on the other side, it was a new school and I was just getting started. But the gap was too hard to jump and I was left on the edge of it waving.

Or at least this must have happened, because I have never had this much trouble making friends in my life. Dance team sucks.

Is it just because they are bitches?
Is it because they think I'm smart?
Is it because I dance badly?
Do they think I'm ugly?
Did they take offense to when I yelled at them and solved their problems?
Am I feeling intimidated and not going all out my awesome self to make friends?
Do I give off a weird vibe?
I mean seriously, I want to know specifically what it is.

My guess is it's the image. My personality doesn't match, I don't have the right connections, I'm a white girl with barely any hip-hop experience, and they are on the other side of my social gap. I'm not keeping up with the image. I am cute enough, I have a dancer's body, I am a quick learner, I am personable. So why am I getting hate mail?

"it is wierd that you are on the dance team and you definately stand out...in a bad way!! i'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but when one of my firends told me you were on the team, it surprised me because your really nerdy and can't dance. sorry."

"well i seen u dance (its embarrassing) and ur not evn friends with the other people on the team....u need a major makeover woman!"

"ur so ugly and nerdy"

1. these people can't even spell.
2. or construct sentences
3. or have the guts to tell me these things to my face (anonymous messages)
4. and the first person obviously wasn't on the team from context, so how would they know if I could dance?
5. and it's THEIR FAULT if I'm not friends with anyone on the team (which is not true, I have a couple people I hang with)
6. and I'm good looking...I have a better body than any of them. I don't know what they're smoking.
7. there's nothing wrong with being smart, or nerdy for that matter.
8. how the fuck would I get on the team if I couldn't dance?
9. if you wanna give me a makeover I would love one. Don't criticize if you don't want to be constructive or help me.

I was deeply hurt at first.
Then I was pissed.
Then I didn't care.
Then I wanted to quit.
But I like dancing, so screw them.

more things i dislike

2008-08-25T23:32:00.000-07:00

As I said before, there are thing that I dislike. In addition to those things, there are these of which have come to my attention since that posting.

I hate being pestered upon the the waking of my consciousness. I can hear you, I just can't bring myself to respond in any way more than moving my legs around a little bit.

I severely dislike country music.

I hate seafood, save a few kinds of fish which are tolerable.

I hate having to pick what to wear, it's just annoying.

I hate when people leave me anonymous messages saying unnecessarily mean and nonconstructive things that are significantly far from the truth and with a bad connotation.

I hate when (and this happens quite often) I can't remember a word for something. I know there is a word for it because I remember the context it was in, and I was about to say or write it when my mind freezes up. It takes so much determination to let go of the fact that it won't come to me. Then of course and minute or and hour or a year passes and I finally remember it. Then all that weight of trying to recall comes off my shoulders.

I hate history homework. Granted, sometimes I can get into it; find an idea interesting or take pride in the detailed and long answer I gave to one of the question. But it just doesn't look appealing and it really isn't.

brain stimulation

2008-08-24T21:39:00.000-07:00

I finished approximately 18% of the last quarter of my summer homework. And yes, I probably should have been doing the rest of it instead of spending time making that estimate--and come to think of it writing this post--but I figure it's more fun toying with statistics and talking about the work I did than it is using the brain power to decipher Machiavelli's The Prince. With a little over a week to finish the rest before school starts, and a few other commitments to fulfill before summer ends, there's not much else in the way of summer fun...*sighs*

Reading "The Prince" I start talking more and more in the way that it is written. My dad interrupted my reading with a comment and I replied, "Of which I shall do henceforth!" I don't think I used the word henceforth correctly in the context, for I think it means more of "from now on" rather than "now", but it got the idea across in any case.

A little while back I went mostly through my mom's old psychology textbook and found everything so interesting that I decided to look more into it. So a few days ago I met a friend at the library and was looking around in the psychology section. I was stunned when he commented, "This is boring, let's go to the physics section," not only because I find psychology one of the most interesting things ever, but at the fact that he was interested in physics. When I told my mom about his comment I think it made him out as a better/smarter guy than she originally made him out as, and scoring points for my friends towards my parents always helps me out in the long run.

I checked out "The Interpretation of Dreams" and "A Universe of Consciousness" for further reading. At points while reading I would laugh out loud and think something like "Freud cracks me up." I don't think it would be anything particularly hilarious to you, but in my opinion almost anything can be of hilarity when looked at in the right manner.

I haven't gotten very far in either book because of the homework, but I will make an effort to read them. More to come on them and the reflection and discussion of their subjects.

my family

2008-08-19T12:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I hate them. Some people hate their family members more frequently, for longer periods of time, in more intensity and severity, and for far better reasons, but that doesn't change the fact that sometimes I hate them. You should all relate to that.

Sometimes I can't believe how similar they are to me, whether it be because of genetics or because I spend about half my time with them.

Sometimes I realize how vastly different the relationship between me and my brother are from other families and how different the parenting styles are, not only between families, but between the two of my parents.

Sometimes I realize that with the right mindset the pestering and guilting and nagging and lecturing and threatening and yelling does not get to me.

Sometimes all that stuff gets to me really badly, and it screws up life.

Sometimes I was disconnected, sometimes attached. But most of all, I was always there.

Now, I'm not as much. And it's a good feeling to be away more for the present time.

in high spirits

2008-08-18T21:04:00.001-07:00

Life sure does look beautiful after you have finished something you have set out to do. In this case it was getting the summer homework I set out to do today finished.

It also looks this way when you are single again, and what happened at the party you went to doesn't have to be felt guilty about because of that.

And when you get an unexpected call from an awesomely good friend you can't believe you nearly forgot about, it really adds to the effect.

Especially when you are seeing your best friend tomorrow on what will most likely be one of the greatest days of her life.

Yes, life is looking up.

weed

2008-08-17T21:20:00.000-07:00

I had planned on going to hempfest with my friend for a few months, but our lives were busy and we hadn't talked about it in weeks. She calls me Saturday morning and asks if I still want to go. So we head down to Seattle.

It was really hot, but thankfully we had water. The speakers were cool and it was very educational. Hemp surely is an amazing plant, useful for virtually everything. We sat down to listen to a half-sucky band every once in awhile. I was going to buy a few hemp bracelets but it kind of slipped my mind. When we got hungry we bought burgers and sat down on the shore looking out at the sound. Then we caught up with eachother. I had a good time.

We didn't get stoned there, but there sure were a lot of people around us taking part in that activity. I'm sure the 2nd hand high I got was enough to make the psychedelic artwork being sold look slightly more interesting.

The event booklet informed me that it was printed with soy-based ink. I was beginning to question why it smelled slightly off...

I have a souvenir. A plastic marijuana lei. It's a good alternative to a traditional lei on any occasion!

The logo here is totally awesome. Looks like a pot farm through a spy glass. And the sunny sky. Like it's saying "Pot for a brighter tomorrow."

little games

2008-08-05T13:36:00.000-07:00

Over the years, I have come up with a few games that I play with friends frequently.

The first is called Robot. This game can be played 2 different ways, and can be played with 2-a few players. Player 1 gives player 2 the names of preferably three people (could be more or less) they mutually know. Player 2 has to explain to player 1 which of those three people is most likely to be a robot and give specific reasons. The second way to play Robot is to be in a room of people you all know, or people you don't know (perhaps if you were in a public establishment), and simply ask "Who's the robot?" And the other playmate must say who and why. It is a very entertaining game if the two of you know a lot of the same people. Tip: The people you name can also be celebrities!

The second game, which I just thought of about a week ago is called Hat Department. I have not yet played this, but I encourage you to and tell me what happens. This game is best played in malls or stores that DO NOT sell and hats (or another specific item). Go into the store (with a friend to make it the most fun) and ask someone who works there: "Would you please direct me to your hat department?" They will give you a weird look especially if it a store that only sells hats. There are so many variations of this game. You could be wearing a hat and tell them in some kind of bad fake accent "what kind of a store doesn't sell any hats?" Only one of the two playing the practical joke would wear a hat and the other would say "But you see, I'm in desperate need of a hat!" If they did direct you to their hat section then you could say "No, no, I already saw these hats, I want to see where your hat department is." or "But these are caps, I want hats!" If they say that they don't sell hats, then look at your friend with an odd look and say "What kind of a store doesn't have a hat department??" You could also ask for something completely random that they would not have in that store. Such as asking for spatulas in hot topic, or for a waffle iron in Victoria's secret. Use your imagination, and always, ALWAYS use the word department. I find it hilarious for some reason. Tip: Keep a very serious face the entire time.

This game I did not make up, a friend of mine told me about it, and with the right people, it can entertain for hours on end. We'll call it Title then Movie Give the title of a fake movie to your friend. And they have to describe what happens in that movie. It's very simple and it really takes some brain power.

This game I stole from an episode of 30 rock, which probably did not originally create it. It's called Marry, Kill, Boff. Or the shortened version, MBK. Again with this game, it involves giving the names of people that you and your playmate mutually know, whether they be celebrities, friends, or a random person that you both see at that moment. The other person must say which one of those three they would marry, which they would kill and which they would have sex with if they had to choose between the three. As long as you don't run out of people, the game goes on and on with much enjoyment. Tip: If playing in front of people you would rather not know what you are playing, then simply say the names in order of MBK when giving your answer to your friend. People will have no idea what you are doing.

Share with me your favorite sleepover-type games =) I still play Truth or Dare and Telephone and Rate That Girl/Guy and other stuff too, but I obviously did not make those up.

a weekend to remember

2008-08-03T20:40:00.000-07:00

No, no, I did nothing bad. Just to get that idea of your heads you sick perverts. Ok maybe it was just me. If it was then shut up. Sorry I'm a little edgy after I hang out with friends. Well I'd hardly call these people friends...sure we bonded this weekend, making me feel more welcomed, but I don't particularly enjoy their company or would want to hang out with them any other place besides practice. K, enough of the let-downs, let's give you the highlights on the dance team camping trip before I forget what happened. I'll try to make it as chronological as possible.

...One person tent my ass....

We arrived at the campsite after a slightly boring drive and started setting up our tents before dark. My tent was only big enough to fit two people, but no one would believe me because it wasn't a dome tent. I decided I would only sleep in it as a last resort and try to get a place in someone else's because I didn't want to sleep alone on a trip I was supposed to be bonding on, but I set it up anyway. It took a little time to figure out how to keep both sides up as I put the metal steaks in the ground, but I still managed to finish way before everyone else and ended up helping 2 other people set up tents. One was a little confusing...but we had a lot of people there, a lot of time, and a lot of daylight to use to our advantage. Near the end of the camping trip someone actually looked inside my tent and said "Hey that WOULD have fit 3 or 4 people easily!!" Tent shapes are deceiving I suppose.

...Boo!...

The night we got there we walked out of the campsite to the highway in the dark to look at the car lights speed by and the stars twinkling in place. As we walked I hooked arms with several girls who were scared out of their wits for barely any reason. There would be a little rustle int he leaves or the coach would throw a rock to make a sound and they would all scream. Annoying? Yes, but I wouldn't want to be alone in the dark either. It was kinda scary.

...Henry Stewart the mouse's funeral was so moving...

As we made our lunch a little mousy (and it really was little) went crawling across the floor near my feet. I don't remember if I yelped, but I did pick up my feet so that it didn't "get me" or I wouldn't step on it. If I did yelp it was because everyone else was and people yelling makes me scared unless I'm also yelling. It's human nature, don't fault me. Once things calmed down, the coach picked it up with her sweatshirt and realized it had an injured leg. She thought it was going to die and she made a little home for it in a leaf near a tree. It was dead a day later and we had a small ceremony.

...(English accent) "I swear I thought that was a double scoop!"...

We took a walk up the gravel road out of camp to the ice cream shop and I had my fill of Chocolate Espresso ice cream. There was a man and his family eating dinner there that were traveling around the world from England. The single scoops served there were quite large and looked almost like a double. He proclaimed this when he received his single scoop of ice cream to everyone in the small shop, and the girls started being awed by the fact that he had an accent. It sounded more Australian to me, but he did say they just came from Australia, maybe he started slipping into the way they talk slightly? I'm not sure, it was kind of loud in there.

...I felt more like a John McLaughlin/Tyra Banks hybrid than I did Doctor Phil...

There has recently been some drama about a girl on the team. And this girl did not go on the camping trip, so the girls were left with their anger and frustration and vastly different ideas to ramble on about. Eventually I took control of the conversation, using accepted therapy devices such as a "talking stick." Nodding and agreeing like the talk show hosts I see, setting questions for everyone to answer individually and arguing like I see on the McLaughlin group. So basically, I have television to thank for this occasion. Well, besides my own philosophy and knack for figuring out what is going on and categorizing emotions. (Both my own and others). They got a bit flustered at me mid-way through for thinking that I thought I was better than they were. At that point I just shut my mouth completely until they really wanted to hear what I had to say. It did take awhile actually for them to realize I had it all figured out, but after I said what I did, all anyone had to say was how much they agreed with each other. I summed up and had a solution to their entire conversation into one sentence after hours of babble and yelling. I'm quite impressed with myself.

...HOLY FUCK THAT'S COLLLLLLLLD...

The last day of camp after breakfast we headed out with our 2-person teams for a scavenger hunt. The fact that my team (name: The Insane Squirrels) ended up winning is beside the point. Finding the leaves and rocks and flowers and all that was easy also. It was the clay that was difficult. Across the river were some clay beds which we were supposed to swim over to, and it was freezing in there. If you have ever been in a river I suppose you know, but it was so cold I started hyperventilating when the water level went past my stomach. I got out, discussed it with the coach, and she said that you just had to get used to it. So after a bit of standing waist them shoulder deep in the water, 3 of the girls including myself swam across. At one point some water got in my eyes and I closed them momentarily. When I opened them I realized that the current had brought me down the river further than I had expected in that shirt time and it scared the shit out of me. So I started kicking and stroking with much more force than I had been. The other two girls were on the shore finally and I was like oh shit I'm gonna drown I'm not there yet! I was very scared, it was freezing. Then I realized that I had been swimming for about 3 yards in fairly shallow water, enough to stand up in. And all the worries passed away and I felt that rush that people talk about when they risk their lives. I started walking to where the other girls were on the clay bed, but the clay was so slippery I honestly spent about 3 minutes trying to get over there. I eventually asked for the other girl's hand and she just advised me where to place my foot and I grabbed a hold of a tree branch. Swimming back across I barely remember, it was a lot less scary now that I knew I could do it. But still worrisome because I knew that I was more tired than I had been going across the first time. There were congratulations from the coach and the girls who decided not to go, and I was thoroughly ready for my clay facial.

...MMMMM....Smores...

We spent quote a bit of our time on the trip around the camp fire playing games, telling stories, eating, throwing stuff in the fire, roasting things, and talking. I was happy about the smores =) I think that's all I had to say about that.

...R&B? I think not, Jazz is where it's at...

On the way home we went into what they referred to as (and I am sure it was) the world's smallest church. It really was small. Anyway I decided to take shot-gun in the car because I rode in the back the way there. Riding in the passenger seat I had complete control of the radio, which was my thought when I jumped in. The girls in the back kept requesting their favorite Rap and R&B stations. They even requested a little alternative rock which I didn't mind, nor did I the techno. And I'm a nice person, when they request it I say sure and switch it, but when the Rap got to me I switched it to my favorite jazz station every now and then. They got kind of tired of it, but it was soothing, which is just what I needed after the long weekend.

...Does anyone have any hand "satinizer"?...

It was fun over-all, I can finally tell the identical twins on the team apart from each other. I think that's good. One of them has a lot of funny ideas. She had a dyslexic pronunciation of sanitizer and thought that owls were mythical creatures. Yeah. I feel like I am starting to sink down to their conversation standards, and speaking standards. I don't want to be one of those people who say "like" three times a sentence or seems like a ditz...but I am afraid that I will become that when I start being around these people more and more. Well at least they challenge me dance-wise.

OFF TOPIC ALERT!!!: i think my mom is watching american idol rewind o.O lmao

(inner?) child psycho-analysis

2008-07-30T15:22:00.001-07:00

Looking through stuff I found this water color painting obviously from when I was younger and decided to scan it to show you.
I think the caption was a bit cut off in the scan, but hopefully the title is easily seen despite the bad penmanship of my younger self. It says "Prettier Aziza" and under that, "the butterfly is prettier". Now I have no way of knowing how old I was when I drew this, based on the handwriting I would guess somewhere between kindergarten and 3rd grade, but I'm not sure. The picture seems like a happy, normal child's artwork, but the words are concerning for obvious reasons. Did I not think I was pretty? I've seen small pictures of myself, I was the cutest little thing on the face of the earth! Is it possible that I really had a low self confidence? I know that my parents would never make me think that of myself, and that would have been the most logical place for a child to get those odd ideas, other than my brother. But that makes no sense.

This is surprising because now my self asteem is very high in most respects now, there wasn't much time in my life that I thought I was inferior. I always made friends very easily and enjoyed playing at recess with them. I suppose there was time in 1st grade where I didn't have many friends, but I don't remember thinking down on myself because of it. I don't remember blaming myself for my parent's divorce, or getting bad grades and feeling bad, or being ridiculed or insulted by the other children. But most importantly, I don't remember feeling bad about myself, it was a shock to me to find this. Maybe I blocked out the bad stuff.

I have come to know from pictures like these that are found, and a secret 1st grade diary that I found, that I was a very, very deep child. I had ideas and feelings and wrote poems and song lyrics. Also what was surprising to me was that I was well aware of both the male and female anatomy at the age of 6, and had an entire entry explaining the differences of the two. The show Friends, I think may have endused that. But this is beside the point. I know that I was capable of having an idea vastly different from another, and I also know that what I was thinking was not exactly what was written down on the page before because of lack of grammar, good spelling, and vocabulary. So maybe what I think this picture means is a misunderstanding?

If it had simply had the title, I would have thought that it was a grammatical error meaning that Aziza is pretty, as the butterfly is. Or had it only had the caption, I would have also assumed it meant the butterfly was pretty. But the two phrases together makes a very compelling argument that I genuinely thought that that butterfly was prettier than myself. But the fact that "Aziza" is not depicted in any way in the drawing makes me think that that is not the case. I know that children's thoughts are not the most logical or understandable, but I think that there would have also been a picture representing myself had this been the case. Am I right? I don't know...maybe I'm just being hopeful that I was not troubled in any way as a child. I keep thinking of myself in that way as a kid, even though I keep remembering things I was very distressed about. Self confidence problems at a litterite age I don't recall at all.

Does it even matter what I thought at that age now? Why do I care? I think most of it is the fear that there is more beneath the surface than I was aware of. Which I always knew, but still is surprising and scary to me.

Wonder about if I had known that my older self would be analyzing my art work later, at the time I painted it. Nevrmind, that would be creepy.

i told you i drew things

2008-07-28T17:40:00.000-07:00

If you remember or recall, I said I had done some sketching back when I started blogging here. I don't think they are exceptional, but they aren't stick figures and they do remotely look like what I was trying to make them look like.

"cacanoe"

"vacant and filthy"

"do through do"

I shouldn't have folded the banana and vase picture before i scanned it, although it kind of works with the vase, like a table maybe?

I can draw the general pose of someone, but with the way I draw things, just what I see and not thinking about 3-D objects like they tell you to in art classes, if they move slightly and the fol din their shirt changes, I have to start all over. I need a manikin.

Anyway, the titles are the most fun about this. I draw the nearest object to me that is interesting enough to keep my attention and give it an arty name afterwards.

Give me your wildest and most illogical interpretation.

at the car wash (woahoohwoahoohwoahoohwoah)

2008-07-27T18:38:00.000-07:00

Growing up in suburbia with barely anything expected of me save decent grades, with the addition of having an older brother which any hard work to be done was delegated to by my parents instead of me, I don't think I have actually done as much manual labor in one day in life than I did today. (Ooh that was a long sentence which I don't think is run-on)

Thankfully, by the time the fundraiser car wash for dance team came along, I had almost entirely healed from my soreness from the previous days. My legs kind of still hurt but it's all good.

Both days this weekend I got up to prance around on the side of the road with a sign advertising the wash to passing cars and get soaking wet in my flip-flops and short-shorts as I wash someone's car for free, hoping they'll give me something more than a 5 for the hard work. Some people went without giving any donations and some gave us a 20 without even washing their car, so I suppose it evened out.

I had some bonding time with the director and the girls on the team, hopefully I made enough friends so that I won't be alone in my tent for the camping trip next weekend.

Also, I got a little sunburned the first day. My face is still kind of pink.

oh the pain

2008-07-25T14:43:00.000-07:00

I guess the workouts we do before dancing at dance practice has finally caught up with me. I woke up and everything hurt. Everything.
My legs, arms, butt, back, shoulders, and worst of all my neck. I tried to stretch it off, but I then realized that I was seriously strained.
I had been sore the previous day from certain aerobic exercises we did that day, and I had been a little tense so I massaged myself wherever it hurt yesterday. I'm not sure if it made it worse for today, or if it saved me even more pain, but it felt good at the time, so I'm glad I did.
I took a very slow hot bath that relaxed some muscles, but the neck and back still ache. I took some pain medication and it's probably working but I don't know how much. It was kind of distracting so I forgot to eat until 1 in the afternoon. And now I'm sitting with my back straight and a warm sweater and a cushion, trying not to move my neck in any radical way. I guess I'll just have to let it heal.

On the brighter side of things, the regular dance practice is doing wonders. I think I'll be really ripped by the end of summer.

love in complexity

2008-07-21T18:18:00.000-07:00

I have many ideas about love. I've written essays and written endless rambling philosophical pieces never to be shared, not to mention the amount of sticky notes. You don't even want to know.

I've tried to graph it, tried to ignore it, tried to understand it, tried to explain it. It's a too vast subject to cover. But I will tell you my recent findings. And I tried to make it as understandable and clear as I could considering the fact that it came out of my scattered, relentlessly philosophical and confusing brain.

Overview:
I have always thought that it is all in your mind. Love is no outer force manipulating our lives, if you believe you are in love then you are. That's all there is to it. Then you ask "Why can't I decide to be out of love when I want to? Or decide to fall in love with someone?" A lot of times you cannot help what you think. Once the idea is in your head, you may never get it out. Sometimes your subconscious knows better than your immediate impulsion does.

Don't Believe Me:
What I have figured about love is based on a small sample taken from my life, your experiences are different, perhaps more thorough, if you don't agree then don't. Please tell me your reasoning. A lot of what I figure, I am sure, is me not wanting to admit something or get over something or understand something, and I try to find ways around it. At least it gives me temporary peace of mind.

The Theory:
There is a distinction between being in love and loving someone. It is possible to have either one without the other.

The Reasoning:
Look back at your life. If you have had the gift of believing you were in love in your life more than once then tell me this: Was the love the same? Perhaps it was for different reasons, but I want to know if it felt the same. What were the moments you thought "I love you!" In my life, I know that I have loved more than once, and they were different.

A lot of times I love THEM, the actual person, before I fall in love with them. This makes it easy, it seems like a dream come true if you begin dating them. And things run smoothly because I already have a trust, a respect, an amazing view of this person. I see no need to change them, argue with them, they are perfect (or at least as perfect as I need), I love them.

Sometimes I fall in love with them before I love them. This is more rare. It's as if I have a really good feeling about the two of us, and I haven't the slightest idea. Being in love is often mistaken for sexual pleasure or simply enjoying time with them, it's kind of hard to distinguish. Being in love I think is a figment of our imagination. That doesn't mean that it's not real. As I said, if you believe it, then it is true. Being in love is hard to occur without dating. But I think when two people meet and they "click" that it is a lesser form of being in love. It's how you know you can easily fall in love, not that you will easily love them.

If falling in love and loving someone happens simultaneously then it is amazing.

The Benefits:
It really is easier to learn to love someone if you are already in love with them.

It is easier to fall in love if you already love them.

Some Thoughts:
I feel uncomfortable telling someone I love them if I am only in love with them and not loving them. I go ahead and say it anyway, hoping that I will soon, knowing that they won't know the difference, knowing that it will make me feel good to say it. It would be a horrible guilt if I broke up with this person after telling them this because I could not learn to love them. Do I even have to love them? Isn't being in love enough if I find them agreeable? Perhaps it is better. The only thing missing is the unwavering trust and respect I have for someone I love. That can be made up with niceness and courtesy right?

Knowing that I am no longer in love with someone in a past relationship is refreshing. Just because I still like them (or love if you will) as a person, doesn't mean I am in love with them. I could never be in love with them again. Even if I still love them, which I hope deeply that I do not. That's where my philosophy fails me. It's all in my mind, but I can't change it. It's a let down of a philosophy. But so is a lot of other stuff.

The End:
Do you agree?
Can you argue?
Do tell.

movies

2008-07-21T01:14:00.000-07:00

I watch a lot of movies. At least one a week, I average more during the summer. Sometimes one a day. And although I cannot remember all the movies I like, nor all the movies I have seen, these are my favorites of which I remember in no logical or significant order. I even threw in the occasional Disney favorites from my childhood to throw off any trend you thought you were about to see in my list. Take that.

Benny and Joon
Austin Powers (all)
V for Vendetta
Superbad
Minority Report
Cashback
Walk Hard
Memento
Across the Universe
Rocky Horror Picture Show
The Little Mermaid
Pirates of the Caribbean (all)
Paprika
Rush Hour
District B13
Toy Story
The Matrix
Donnie Darko
Sicko
This Is Spinal Tap
Moulin Rouge
Pan's Labyrinth
There Will Be Blood
The Bothersome Man
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Mirror Mask
Son of Rambow
Namesake
The Lion King
Transformers
In Bruges
Princess Bride

It seems to me that I end up liking more movies than I think I will. If I go to see a movie I will rarely hate it. Except that one movie Michael Clayton. I really hated it for some reason I can barely recall. Don't see it I beg of you.

Do we share any common favorites? =)

a twisted modern mind

2008-07-21T00:39:00.000-07:00

I have seen my share of musicals, and a number of plays considering my age and what the normal American sees. But I rarely sit through an entire opera, the fact that the more famous ones are in Italian, a language I have trouble picking Latin roots out of, not helping. (Even with dismissing the fact that they are singing, making it all the more harder.)

While watching the opera Manon on TV, I began to grow bored. (Horrible of me, I know). And I phased in and out of attempting to read the hard to see subtitles, trying to follow the moderately entertaining story line, and focusing in on the orchestral backup. The latter of the three held my interest the best, but still yet I didn't feel the compulsion to watch the entire thing the way I was.

Don't get me wrong, it's true that I do like classical music. How could I play in a school orchestra 6 years thus far without being able to enjoy it? But it's not my forte...more of my mezzo-piano.

I make that joke too much.

Anyway, the idea dawned on me to listen to my own, more modern and much more enjoyable music in my taste, to the opera. The young girl and her boyfriend (I presume?) were singing all about how they can no longer contain themselves, the sexual attraction between them was too much to not act on. And at this point I had gotten out my mp3 player and put it on shuffle. What come on but "The Way You Like It (Sex U Up)" by L.F.O. I have no idea where I got this song, but I like it. It's a rip-off of the boy bands in the early '00s.

So anyway, I'm sure a lot of other songs could have also fit the scene. Modern music is mostly about sex, but I found the situation too funny to not let the song run. I imagined the man in the opera singing this in his grey wig and fitted Italian old-timey suit. "I wanna sex u up, I know the way you like it. Let me freak u out. Uh uh, uh uh."

I didn't want to ruin the moment so I waited until the end of the scene to laugh.

detachment

2008-07-18T00:19:00.000-07:00

I don't feel particularly attached to the people on So You Think You Can Dance as I have in past seasons. Perhaps it's because I missed one or two episodes, perhaps it's because I am more interested in the dancing recently than the tone of dancing, if you understand. Perhaps I have grown past the stage of childish care for these complete stranger's lives, which most adults have not grown past.
It is more for the education of the show than the entertainment of the dancers being knocked off week by week and the performance of the routines. Hell, I even watch the results show, having much more actual dancing than American Idol had singing on their results show.

But it is a wonderful show if you haven't seen it.

I save the character relating and apprehension and suspense for the shows I watch specifically for that--including House. The others escape my mind for the moment.

a wink is worth a thousand words

2008-07-17T23:40:00.000-07:00

It was a good wink. It was a well placed wink. I have regrets about that wink. Why did I out the wink? Why oh why did I out that wink? Why did I have to laugh in his face, it was such a good wink. I wish I could wink as well as he did. I left him either thinking I was uninterested or left looking like a complete idiot, un-experienced int he winking department. And concerning that, I assure you I have had my share of winks and my share of winks received. But it is an art, and that wink, it was so perfect I didn't know what to do with it, and I hadn't had much time to think about it.

This was no "I THINK it was a wink!" Because of the winking art, he must have thought of his departing time to wink. That is the classified respectable winking time: upon last glance until an unspecified time. In place of a goodbye, from perfect eye contact from across the room. This was no virgin winker, this was no mistake.

Perhaps he was just practicing. I practice winking at people I know or briefly meet frequently, just to get some practice in. But how many Mormons do you see winking around town? You see what I mean now don't you? Why would a Mormon be winking? He liked me, wanted to say in the sliest, most discreet, most out of character, greatest, coolest way he could. He wanted to wink, and because I was unprepared, I made him look dumb to the group. And I made myself look dumb to him.

But he didn't get embarrassed. Sure, he denied it, but his eyes were still attempting the contact with me, he still wanted to get the message across. When we were sitting at the table side by side we wanted to look towards each other, but we were so close anyway it would have been too awkward for first meeting. I honestly didn't see the wink coming.

Sure, I read too much into winks and gestures and comments and looks.

A wink should go unsaid. A wink outed is a wink that has lost it's spice, lost it's mystery, infringed upon it's meaning.

You see, the eyebrow raise would have been creepy. I would have giggled and said nothing. I would have kept that to myself...I hope. The wink was too cute to go unsaid, the wink was so in character that I didn't even see it coming. The wink was the perfect end to what we knew of each other thus far, but I had to screw it up.

The fact that I care so much escapes me. Yes, he was somewhat cute and had an agreeable personality, but what does that mean? I must go through a 2 point checklist before deciding if someone is friend/boyfriend material. "Somewhat cute? check. Mostly agreeable? check." And bam, no further questions until we are dating.

I am too easy to please. That means I am either very very nice, very very horrible, very very desperate, very very indecisive, or very very lackadaisical. That's quite a large pan of what I could be. How am I supposed to figure out which of those it is?

Are my standards too low?

Am I just too likable for my own good?

And why must I think of all this while I have a boyfriend? Now I am feeling very very guilty. =(

This is perhaps the reason that pretty and popular girls develop bitchy, mean, snide personalities. To fend off the guys after them. I don't want to become that. I don't want to become one of those people who thinks they're better than other people. And even though I know I'm not, there are times when it seems like it would be beneficial to act as if I thought that.

meh...

it was a very nice wink though.

what are YOU thinking about?

2008-07-14T20:29:00.000-07:00

In talking on the phone to a boy who is outwardly infatuated with me nearly ever day on the phone, he often asks me what I am thinking about.

Now I am not sure exactly how this become the tradition, but every time he asks I respond with "something too naughty to say" or just silence which he knows what to take as. This could have became to be in several ways.

The first time he asked I wasn't particularly thinking of anything so I told him to guess. And he has a sick mind so his guess was naughty and I just went along with it.
I am actually the one with the sick mind and every time he asks I was already thinking about it anyway.
His asking me always triggers me to begin thinking about it if I hadn't already (especially with his new tone of voice as he asks from what he knows I have responded with in the past.)
My want to please him.
My want to freak him out.
My want to hear his nervous laughter which is by the way hilarious.
The possibility that i might want him to think those idea are not completely out of the question.

But I highly doubt any of those, it just kind of happened by chance and I don't see any reason to stop. It's not like I'm spelling anything out for him in the slightest. Just the occasional sexual elude, but what healthy conversation doesn't have a few of those, eh? He's completely inexperienced, wouldn't know where to begin anyway, let alone have the guts to actually ask me if I am thinking about sex or even making out directly. "Remember that thing you said that time before last? C'mon you remember, why did you say that?"Sometimes I honestly have no idea what he's talking about, but other times I play dumb to see how much of it he will repeat.

It's one of those things. I'm thinking it, you're thinking it, why can't either of us say it? I waiver between trying to make him think he is crazy or frustrate himself so much that he gives up and we can go on with the normal conversation about our lives and interests again.

there's a sparrow in it for you

2008-07-14T12:15:00.000-07:00

My dad drove the family 65 miles north, over halfway to Canada, to go to a state park and look at birds. While there we also ended up driving up a hill that they claimed to be a mountain and took pictures of ourselves at the top of the cliff drop-off.

The drive wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I barely managed to read a few pages of the book I was expecting to plow through that day, somehow I can never read in the car with the radio and people talking and the outside to gaze at indefinitely.

It was mostly pleasant despite the argument we had about the highway exit. The blues and jazz coming out of the radio throughout the drive gave a calming effect and had the equivalency of fun when we started singing along to our favorite Eva Cassidy and BB King songs. That's part of what I like about my family, there are some music genres we can agree upon. Classic rock is also among those.
On the sight tower we had almost a full 180 degree view out into the lake and across to the mountains. My first instinct was "Wow it looks just like the Imax theatre!" That got a chuckle out of the group.

We took a little stroll (or a hike as they referred to it) on the trail near the park. It only could have been one or two miles long, didn't take that long to go the full circle just ambling. Before that we had had a large lunch which took care of breakfast for the day, dinner that night, and most of breakfast the following day. It was large indeed.

language can be a thought but not vice versa

2008-07-14T03:22:00.000-07:00

Why is it that we need to express what we are thinking in language? Before we (as an individual or as a species) learned a language, we surely had thoughts. We just thought of them as they were; the raw, direct thoughts. It's kind of hard to explain because what I'm using to explain it is words. (Which is the very thing I am trying to question. So either I am a hypocrite, or none of this makes any sense anyway and I am crazy.) Let's continue shall we?

If we had thoughts before we knew language, when we were babies, then it is no wonder we can't remember our lives from before the time we could speak. We have no memories that are in the language we currently process information in from that period in our life.

For instance, I remember dreams far longer if I write them down, translated from thoughts to English, or even think about what happened in the dream in my inner monologue, no doubt in English. Rather than remembering the feelings of the dream combined with the "raw thought", as I will refer to it from now on, I am remembering the words which almost instantaneously trigger the memory because English is the language I think in.

You can see this when you are trying to remember something. You can usually work backwards from a visual or a phrase you remember. But sometimes, if in the first place you never worked the experience into meaningful words, you just have to "think about it" for a minute without any inner monologue in the slightest. Those, I am assuming, are your raw memories. How else do you think you can go from not remember going to the circus when you were 4 and then remembering? When it finally "comes to you" you then work it into meaningful words from memory and it is then stored in your memory longer because of the words you worked the memory into. If you revisit the non-raw memory again, then you will most likely "remember" that day when you were 4 forever.

Say I am trying to write an essay. And I have been pondering (in English) what to write about specifically. And then I am thinking about something or other and then it hits me...kind of. "Ooh ooh! Wait what was that! I had something!" Might have to work forwards from the last thing in English I remember thinking and see where me mind takes me, but go slower. It was a raw thought, something in the back of my mind. Something that my inner monologue was barely keeping track of, so it just kind of rushed by. But in the severe mental state I was in, racking my brain for ideas for this essay, I sensed it somehow.
At this point I would sputter out seemingly (but not actually) random words aloud, trying to get a feel for my raw thought in the English language. And a lot of times, it helps. And I can "remember" (really just understand in the way I know how) what I had thought of.

In the time when I am about to fall asleep, there is a brief period of time when I am just freely thinking. Sometimes about my life in a very disorganized and tangent-like way, sometimes in a daydream about something that could happen, sometimes random visuals as if I were high. I think this time gives the perfect in-between stage between raw thought and language. I am not aware in the slightest that I am thinking, it's all about the thought. But it is often in the English language and if I become aware at any one point that I am thinking, I could describe what I had thought without any sputtering of words or mind strain at all. Perhaps that that is only because of the relaxed state of almost asleep that helps me, but I'd rather think it's because it was mostly in raw thought.

Tell me your thoughts on my thoughts about thoughts.

royal impact

2008-07-14T02:29:00.001-07:00

High school dance team is not nearly as prestigious as a formal dance class, about as expensive, but much more time wasting. But the bragging rights (included in the team jacket wearing and assembly performance) makes up for it. The social aspect of it is not in the fashion that I would consider beneficial to me. To put it plainly, when I hang out with dumb people, it kind of rubs off. But it's also better than nothing, which is what I had in the way of my dance education preceding my acceptance to the team. Most of what I know I learned from watching TV, or just picked up naturally at the rare middle school dances.
The choreography for tryouts consisting entirely of hip-hop, so I decided to use the other required part of tryouts, an original choreographed dance, to my advantage. I somehow pieced together a routine of jazzy-ish moves that I had seen some place or another and made them think I had taken a class or two. The other girls trying out kept asking me to show them my routine after the hype they heard from the friend who saw me preform. It was satisfactory in that way, and I giggled and screeched along with the girls who made it on afterward as I thought necessary to fit in, and as I actually felt like doing, believe it or not.
This summer we are having practice 2 days a week for an hour and a half. Which means it will be the busiest summer of my life. Don't say it's sad, that alone isn't what's making it that, but it sure adds to it. I have been catching up with friends I haven't seen in months, reading books, swimming, watching movies, keeping up on chores somewhat, and enjoying myself thoroughly. I have never had a summer this productive! I must be doing at least 3 productive things daily! This is amazing! Well if productive counts as doing something other than sleeping, eating, and doodling around on the computer. Going shopping counts as productive in my book, even though it is kind of the opposite.

But I am enjoying myself on the team. I was blown away at how good they were at the assembly, that's why I felt a compulsion to join. Can't wait to get the new choreography on Tuesday.

12 blocks south

2008-07-12T20:00:00.000-07:00

I think of the greatest, the oddest things in the unaccounted for time when riding the public bus. The problem is that I rarely remember what they are.
The reason for this is that most of what I think of are stream of consciousness perceptions that are almost instantaneously replaced by something else in my frontal lobes that seems remotely interesting. I might be very rudely staring at a couple kissing and wonder how exactly they would have met, or wondering what they see in each other. I might be listening to the bus sounds and thinking of a song that would fit well with it some way or another. I might be reading a sign on the bus (I try not to do that too much, it gets real old, real fast). Or my favorite, thinking as if I were a poet viewing the world, trying out what I see in captivating phrases. "Pink petals and cigarette butts are strewn on the sidewalk. A piece of cotton floats past my face, and I don't attempt to catch it. This tree is too crooked or my taste, and the color of that car disgusts me."

I was on the bus thinking about where my next transfer was going to be and calculated that it was supposed to take 9 minutes to get there. "I couldn't possibly go 20 blocks East and 12 blocks South in that amount of time! It's preposterous!"chimed in my inner monologue for no apparent reason in an English accent. But lo and behold, it got there, with about 45 seconds to spare might I add. So, "you can go a long way in 9 minutes". It doesn't sound like much, but I found it somehow profound. I think it was because it was 3:56 to 4:05. Both of those times I would have rounded to 4 o'clock on most occasions, so it seemed like no time at all, and I was nowhere near my destination.
I found you can use this in many aspects. for example: "People can change a lot in 9 years." "Many can be fed with 9 cups of rice." "All can be done with 9 fingers."

yeah...that made no sense. Maybe I should just read a book on the bus.

don't judge, just listen

2008-07-09T21:24:00.001-07:00

I admit I'm a horrible person. I never finished reading Great Expectations.
I think I'm one of those people who like saying that I read books but really doesn't get around to it that often. I mean, when I think about how many books I have actually read, I swear It couldn't be more than 100. I mean I guess that isn't too horrible considering how many years I spent actually able to read above a third grade level...7 years. I put off reading things constantly, but I do like reading and I do like quoting what I read. Half of Great Expectations lead me to get these quotes that I found humorous or profound in some way.

"I looked at the stars, and considered how awful; it would be for a man to turn his face up to them as he froze to death, and see no help or pity in all the glittering multitude."

"My sister's bringing up had made me sensitive. In the little world in which children have their existence whosoever brings them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as injustice. It may be only small injustice that the child can be exposed to; but the child is small, and its world is small, and its rocking-horse stands as many hands high, according to scale, as a big-boned Irish hunter. Within myself, I had sustained, from my babyhood, a perpetual conflict with injustice. I had known, from the time when I could speak, that my sister, in her capricious and violent coercion, was unjust to me. I had cherished a profound conviction that her bringing me up by hand, gave her no right to bring me up by jerks."

"As the question had no bearing, near or remote, on any foregone or subsequent transactions, I considered it to have been thrown out, like her previous approaches, in general conversational condescension."

"I began to throw my torn-up grass into the river, as if I had some thoughts of following it."

"Heaven knows we need never be afraid of our tears, for they are the rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts."

"He'll give you a wine, and a good wine. I'll give you a punch, and not a bad punch."

"If you have the heart to think so."

"We changed again, and yet again, and it was now too late and too far to go back, and I went on. And the mists had all solemnly risen now, and the world lay spread before me."

Well I read from a copy that had the cover of the picture in the top left, I have a feeling that I would have been more inclined to read the rest had I had a copy with the cover to the right here.

not faltered from flattery

2008-07-09T21:01:00.000-07:00

In just 5 days I have been complimented by my boyfriend so much, I barely knew how to take it. It wasn't the density of the flattery that took me off guard, just the fact that they were all things I've always wanted to hear about myself, and how creative he was in saying them.

For small talk I brought up the fact that I am very ninja, and he didn't argue that pirates were better or say "oh really?" in a sarcastic teasing way or confessed that he was also a ninja or asked me for some proof, perhaps records of my most resent assassination as most boys seem to respond with. He said that it couldn't be true. That I am too nice. That I am cuddly, like a bunny.

Take into account that I have only talked to him in person once so far, and you have to admit it's pretty flattering.

He sent me a message at 3 in the morning saying that he couldn't stop thinking about me. And went off talking about how kind and courteous and beautiful I was. He even used the word enchanting, which I thought was wonderful. Also that he loved me...

Damn I'm good. haha.

He's a sweet guy =D

oh joyous parallels

2008-07-09T20:30:00.000-07:00

How can I maintain a joyful mindset when I know I could be suffering with the safe effort?
By knowing that being joyful is better.
or By forgetting that I could be suffering.

How can I fall in love when I know that I could be in love with someone else just as easily?
By knowing that being in love is better than searching and doubts.
or By forgetting that I could be in love with another.

Why can't I maintain a joyful mindset when I know I could be suffering with the safe effort?
Because I really am suffering, I just don't want to believe it.

Why can't I fall in love when I know that I could be in love with someone else just as easily?
Because I really am in love with someone else, I just don't want to believe it.

I have a theory about love, and it's just as good as any other. If you let yourself fall in love, then you will. And if you believe that you are in love, then you are. If your subconscious thinks this, and your conscious doesn't, then the idea will be enforced even more, and you'll never let go.

My problem is that I don't want to believe my own theory, it makes me wonder how slightly better my life could be if I decided I would fall in love with someone else.
It also makes me think that my subconscious will never let go...and that I have no control over it.

I'm suffering inside. But I know that being in love is better than that.

asshole and slut traditions

2008-07-09T20:10:00.000-07:00

Rocky Horror Picture Show is about 30 years behind my time, but a friend of mine has introduced me to the movie, and I attended a midnight showing last weekend. It was awesome, I'll go again with her in early August.
Going as Magenta, I made an accurate costume from her first appearance in the movie during the Time Warp.
If you have ever attended a showing of this particular movie, you know that every theatre has a different tradition for all of the "virgins" (never having attended a showing before). Of course I went up for the ceremony, I am quite spontaneous and outgoing when it comes to these things.
I didn't know much of the audience script, but with these things you catch on quickly.
Even though the majority of the audience was obnoxious people yelling profanity in their floor-show attire, I found the experience worth while and really fun. How many chances do you get to throw toast in a theatre and check out hot guys wearing barely anything in the middle of the night?

Every month if I want. *_*

fireflies don't enjoy lightning

2008-07-03T12:19:00.000-07:00

Why? Why has the storm come? It's Summer... I guess it was only the matter of time. The cotton (from cottonwood trees) floating in the air and the fireflies swirling outside my window at night, and the sweet flowery smell and the outside pool usage--the Summer things I enjoy--could only only last so long. Because the winter lasted, it seemed, the course of three seasons, I assumed the usual Summer would happen. But I see now how this is just Spring in disguise.

On the flip side of things... it's raining!!! I actually do like rain, I don't know why I was so let down by it. One of the best days of my life it was raining, in fact it was the main feature of the day which made it my favorite.
I like to go back to the happiness of that day.

things I dislike

2008-06-30T11:42:00.000-07:00

I hate when I have a really good idea that turns out to be already thought of.

I hate people who yell at pedestrians.

I hate when a song is abruptly stopped right before the good part.

I hate people who rush the tempo like crazy, not following the conductor, always thinking they are correct, and choose to sit right next to me in orchestra every day.

I hate mushrooms.

I hate how people say "What??" when I am casually looking at my surroundings and they happen to pass by my field of vision.

But most of all...I hate how people don't comment *coughs*

I don't think I hate much else.

a favorite book

2008-06-29T20:56:00.000-07:00

It's kind of sad to call something your favorite book and only have read it once, but it really did take me a long time to read, and it was very good.

Translated from Danish, Smilla's Sense of Snow, which I finally saw the motion picture of today, is a thriller, for lack of a better word. The better word would mean something about deep philosophical and emotional insight. To put it plainly, a very very emo book. Besides that, it has one of the most interesting plots I ever read/saw, has many thrilling moments, all told through the unfolding mystery made by a half Greenlandic-half Danish scientist and mathematician with a hard exterior. A boy dies who she had a bond with despite her social isolation, and she has a compulsion to uncover why he has died, with the idea that is was not an accident.

I found the movie not nearly as good as the book, no surprises there. It is the same complaint of every novel that has been changed into a movie. The entire reason I liked the book, the deep inner monologue and desolate scenes had been lost with the movie, only displaying the action and sex. More importantly, not nearly showing how much she despised everyone, and how harsh she was. One of the first pieces of dialogue she made in the book was "Beat it you little shit." Her eyes showed just a bit too much compassion and fear for my taste in the movie. Not to say she wasn't a wonderful actor, she had the right idea, but I really think she should have read the book before playing the role.

I highly recommend the book, and if you get confused about the storyline then watch the movie afterward to clear things up.

This quote from the book really taps into her struggle.
"As a child I sometimes dreamed that everybody was dead and had left me behind with the euphoric freedom of choice in an abandoned adult world. I've always thought of it as a pleasent dream. At this moment, on this square, I realize that it has always been a nightmare."