Politically INcorrect and Controversial

Those of you who know me may or may not have noticed that I never talk politics. At all. You may or may not know that I also do not intentionally read news, listen to news, or watch news. Ever. I pick up a few things from unavoidable hear-say now and then, and even catch brief glimpses or hear a few phrases of news stories, but I only rarely finish reading/listening or search out stories (unless they be any sort of animal story, in which case I will open the full story or stop to listen/watch the whole thing). But why is this the case? Well, you could always poke fun at me and say that I'm just a woman, and my silly head cannot handle the politics or form its own opinions on various matters. Or, you could say that I'd rather not think for myself and that I just simply follow the majority or the people with the greatest influence over me. But then again, it could be that I really am a hippie-wanna-be at heart and intend to someday seclude myself in a little cabin off in the woods somewhere. None of those are entirely correct, although little bits of each factor into the reality in some way.

I never took the time to really figure out what my thinking and reasoning was, or why I've always felt such an instinctual aversion to anything politics related.  Politics are stupid. I didn't want to bother with it all. In the end, how I felt or thought really doesn't matter at all, and no matter what stance I take, I will never have any influence on the big stupid-heads in charge of everything. So why bother being opinionated, informed, and perpetually upset? I don't like to be a disturber of the peace, I don't like being against people or to have others against me, I don't like to call attention to myself as an opposing side, and I especially hate to argue or debate. I hate conflict and contention, greatly preferring peace, unity, and acceptance. I vaguely recognized all this in myself before without ever really stopping to think about it or follow through to the next levels. At least, not until a couple weeks ago.

The Majestic had been appearing in various lists of suggestions on netflix for quite a while, and looking like an interesting movie, I finally watched it about two weeks ago. For those of you who haven't seen it, the film is set shortly after WWII in California, as a big push occurs to expose those of the communist party within the media, most especially in the film business. I'm going to spoil part of the end for you, but I have to in order to get my point across. Peter, the main character, had been pinned and blacklisted as a communist, even though it turns out that all he ever did was attend a few meetings in college that he didn't even know were communist affiliated, just to impress a girl he was seeing at the time. After suffering from amnesia, due to a head injury received from an automobile accident the night after he was blacklisted, Peter settles down in a small town where they (and after a time, he) are sure that he is one of their lost sons of the war. The press and other officials are sure that he is running from the law and that they've finally struck on an important communist leader of some sort, and they run wild with all their ridiculous conjectures.

When Peter is finally found out, months after the injury, all the media and officials involved are sure that Peter was hiding out with his follow communists in that town and they come rushing in, guns blazing (as it were), to drag him off for his big court case. Of course everyone involved quickly realize their huge mistake, and to hide their embarrassment, they prepare a statement for Peter to read at his trial, realizing the error of his ways and confessing the names of other communists, so that they can discharge him as quietly as possible and without any trouble. <<-- That is a point that really bugged me. The government made a huge mistake that really affected a man's life, yet all they were focusing on was how to cover it up and save face. After faltering for a while and almost going through with it, Peter faces up to the court, citing his rights in the constitution, according to the first amendment, and talking about the state of the government and the world that all those man had died for. Of course, the court was infuriated at his insolence as he "skate[d] on the very thin edge of contempt", but Peter was absolutely right in everything he said and the entire crowd gathered there knew it, and applauded him as he walked right out of that courtroom. Peter was sure he had just signed his own death wish, but the government, always protecting its own neck, decided to just let him go, and say that he had given them other names. See, they had made him a hero to the people, they couldn't afford to continue on and make him a martyr, too.

I would have left that movie experience annoyed at the stupid government people in the movie and how selfish they were, yet ultimately happy with the ending and so not given it too much thought afterward, had I not seen and heard stuff about the Trayvon Martin shooting a couple days later. I have not done a lot of research on the topic, and I do not want to, the little I know already frustrates me a great deal with our stupid, selfish government. The one article I read disturbed me very much, but the worst part was when I was looking for something down in the family room while my mom was watching the news and I heard a small update on the Trayvon Martin shooting issue, and the newscaster said something about in further research they found (or suspected) that Trayvon had some kind of history with marijuana dealing or usage. All I could think about after that was how again, the selfish, stupid government was trying to save face and cover up a mistake instead of facing it. All those big important people in their fancy suits are paid millions of dollars to say fancy things, get the people to trust and believe in them, and then never truly do more than just talk. All those politicians spend forever making big speeches about all their grand plans, all their visions for America and the ways we can grow, but very little of that ever comes to fruition. That is why I really hate getting involved in politics.

I know that should I take the time to actually read articles, listen to speeches, and follow the news, I would be informed on the actual state of things in our completely screwed up country and would live under a heavy cloud of frustration, disappointment, and disillusionment with our "wonderful" nation. Every little piece of news I've glimpsed or heard a bit of strikes a nasty chord in me and I shrink away before it can too strongly affect me. The fact is, everything is twisted around and completely screwed up in this country! Politicians get paid millions of dollars to talk and make a big selfish mess of everything (and there's something about their not having to pay taxes that I got a frustrating glimpse of at one point, and am not going to go find out all the details of). Athletes get paid millions of dollars to entertain us and be complete jerks. Pop stars are paid millions of dollars to entertain us and put trash in the ears of the next generations. And then you read bits of things about how those in the military don't actually receive 50% of their pay, even though they put their lives on the line for our screwed up, selfish country. Or about how Irena Sendler lost the Nobel Peace prize to Al Gore's slide show on Global Warming. And then you take a good look at the wretched state this country's education system is in, the massive attitude problems of everyone under the age of 60 or so, the deplorable state of marriage, the rampant sexuality, complete lack of morality, and..... if I were more informed, I could continue listing for a very long time.

The truth is, I know that inside, I rebel against everything that is happening in our world right now. Each bit of news I glimpse or hear disturbs me and hurts me, and I retreat deeper into my little shell, wishing that it really were possible for me to escape back in time to a place like Mayberry from the Andy Griffith Show, or at least to some little cabin back in the woods somewhere where I can grow my own crops, raise my own animals, and never go anywhere at all so I can just avoid all this mess. But as such wishing is futile, I am stuck with my only defense of trying my hardest to remain as uninformed as possible and so spare myself the pain of being helpless in the face of a miserable reality. I suppose you could say that one reason I love stories about animal rescues is because the care and thoughtfulness I see exhibited in those stories somehow helps cover up the completely opposite reality where humans are concerned.

For those who may be wondering, this is not the post I have been meaning to write since my last one, nor is this an April Fool's post. This is a completely serious post that (you may have noticed), has left me in a very gloomy, cynical mood. Which I suppose I will have to fix by looking at cute lolcats and watching some innocent Disney movie or something.

Stories from the life of a stranger

It's been quite a while since I've written anything. I haven't felt that I really had much of anything interesting to say, and now I find myself conflicted with the desire to share two different incidences from my day. I suppose I'll just have to make two entries, as they don't really flow together as one topic. But anyway, down to business. I would like to share a story with you. Perhaps it is not put forward as eloquently as many others could do, but it is a story from true life and I want to share it. There is no moral of the story, no lesson to learn, and no real point in sharing it beyond the fact that it put a smile on my face and completely made my day.

Though it is only in the last couple weeks of March, the temperature has gotten up to 80 the last couple days and you could not ask for more glorious weather. I unfortunately had to work yesterday and was unable to enjoy the day other than to open my window for the latter part of the day. Today, however, was my day off. I had been putting off getting my oil changed for the last thousand miles and finally made an appointment to bring my car in late this morning. The door to the sitting room was open, allowing me to soak in the warm breeze and the ambiance of a beautiful day as I read my book. As I was on my way back home I kept thinking about what a shame it would be to just end up in my room the rest of the day. Even if I had my windows open to let in the day, it would still feel like a waste. I had almost determined to simply take my book into the tree in the front yard with me when I realized that I would shortly be passing the levee, and made the impulsive decision to stop there and take a walk.

I have only been on the levee a few times in the past couple years, but as I walked I remembered all the times from my childhood when we'd all go to the levee together. It was very rare that we would ever make it all the way to the end, as the youngest kids would get to tired to go more than a certain distance, or there was the occasional mishap resulting in a skinned knee or other such injury. Back in those days, we had so much energy to burn and mom and dad decided to let us run along the portions of the walk that actually had the fencing on the sides. We had to stop at the end of those sections and wait for the parents (and probably the youngest sibling) to catch up and walk with us until we got to the next section with fencing. These memories, combined with the warmth of the sun, the light breeze, birdsong, and just the general feeling of beauty everywhere put a perpetual smile on my face.

As I neared the end of the walk, an elderly man passed me slowly on his bike, commenting on how lovely the day was. When I reached the end I saw the same man sitting on a bench looking out on the view with a pair of binoculars. I stood at the fence looking across the dam for a bit, and then as I turned to make my way to a picnic table next to the bench, the old man invited me to come sit with him for a bit. If the day had been less lovely, if I had not already decided to sit down for a bit, had I not been in as open and happy of a mood, or had I even had any other commitments for the day, I would have most likely felt a bit of inner panic and awkwardness at social contact, and from a stranger at that, and would have made some sort of excuse and left. But, as I was in such good spirits and the day was really too glorious to enjoy alone, I smiled and accepted the invitation with only the slightest feeling of awkwardness inside. (I will most likely always retain some degree of inner, and sometimes outer awkwardness for the rest of my days. There is no escaping it.)

I am so glad I decided to sit there for a while, for I spent the next hour chatting with a very interesting 77 year-old character named George. He's not one of those old men girls would refer to as a cute or adorable old man, nor was he spry, impertinent, cheeky, feeble, or somewhat confused. He was a very real, genuine person who belonged to an older, simpler time. He had so many stories to tell me about his life, his friends, his older relatives, and little-known facts and tidbits from history. His grandmother was one of the passengers on the Titanic, and he told me bits of things she had told him from that time as well as his own theories about the sinking of the ship (which his grandmother insisted was the fault of the Germans). I don't feel that it is quite right to share all the things he talked with me about on here, as his stories are not mine and I don't have the right publicly post what he had to say. But all the same, I want to give an idea of the intriguing nature of many of the things he talked about.

This man collects binoculars from tag sales and flea markets, primarily war time binoculars. The pair he had with him today was a recently acquired small model of German make, from the second world war. He told me many stories of other pairs he had found, facts and stories in history having to do with binoculars, and of a pair of long, brass binoculars he once bought for $30 that turned out to be originally from a Russian ship that had been sunk by the Japanese fleet when they crushed the puny Russian fleet. The Japanese converted the Russian binoculars to the Japanese style by adding lines in the viewer that would assist them in shooting down other mortals. George found out the history of the binoculars when he took them to an antique shop where he was offered $600 for them. When he visited the same shop a week or two later, he saw those same binoculars he had sold sitting in the window with a $2000 price tag on them. (George also collects glasses and watches from tag sales and flea markets, but I won't go into any of those stories.)

I also got to hear stories about various friends and people he had known, things he had seen and done, and other random things of life. I found out that he believes in UFOs. "They're out there, you know. Always have been." Supposedly a friend of his had seen a UFO a few years back while doing some early morning fishing in a cove in that area. For, as you know, "they like quiet, secluded places." George told me about wildlife in the area, birdcalls, a white coyote he saw once, and how he once mistakenly pet a bear cub, assuming it was the dog from a nearby house that would visit him from time to time at one of his resting spots. I mostly listened and occasionally made encouraging responses or asked questions, doing little talking about myself, but that's the kind of conversation I like best, I think. I love listening to other people, especially when they have such interesting stories and lives. That one hour spent in conversation with 77 year-old George made my day, and I'm hoping that I brightened his day a bit by being such a willing and agreeable listener. I'm afraid not many people have the time or take the time for that kind of thing. As we prepared to part ways, George told me that he wished he were about 30 years younger. I laughed a bit at that, but refrained from telling him that as he would still have been old enough to be my father at that point, he would really have to be more like 50 years younger to hope for anything. (Though I am obligated by my boyfriend to say that even in that case, I am still spoken for :P)

I have no real point to make with this post, other than that people should really get out there and enjoy the weather, appreciate God's creation, and take time to talk with others and listen to the stories of old people. I fear that most people view the elderly as an inconvenience, as having outlived their time, incompetent, feeble, and useless. But I believe that most of them have so much more knowledge and life experience than any of the rest of us have, and they are more than worth talking with.

I miss school

My brother and various other people may think I'm crazy for it, but I truly do miss school. Yes, I mostly miss DePauw, my friends there, the professors, the community, and just the campus, but I also just miss being in school. I am so tired of being home, and I haven't even spent the entire summer here, either. I spent a week in PA for Creation Fest, spent another half a week in PA a couple months later, and am planning a visit to PA and OH in three weeks time. But still, I've been home for far too long. I really miss the freedom I have on campus. The freedom to wander whenever I get the urge, to change locations as often as I want, and socialize with whoever I want or just avoid people whenever I want. When I'm home, I'm stuck at home. I just have the one house. I live on a tiny, secluded little street, and I don't know any of my neighbors. I have spent my entire life in this house, but the only neighbors I once knew moved away years ago. The rest are mainly old retired folk. If I ever want to go anywhere else, I have to make a big ordeal of it with lots of planning, and I have to ask to use one of my parents' cars. And even then, I'd be alone. At school, I could easily walk from my duplex to the music building, or the park, the library, one of my trees, a friend's place, etc. Even if I started out alone, I could always have the guarantee of meeting some people along the way or at one of my destinations. But the biggest thing is that whenever I tired of being in one place, I could just get up and go wherever I wanted to. I so miss my night-time wandering of the campus. I miss my little study parties in the music building, I miss my late-night taco bell runs with my "little brother", I miss my girly nights at the duplex, I miss my fireside knitters, and I miss my classes.

It sounds weird, but in a way, I do actually miss homework. Yeah, it was a pain, but I always felt fulfilled when it was done, and especially when I knew it was done well. I really do enjoy learning things, and especially when it involves a passion of mine. Pretty much anything music related will get me going, and the nerdier the better. As my time at DePauw progressed, Psychology began to have a similar effect on me, and I will occasionally have minor geek-outs about psychology as well as music.  I really miss feeling like I was going somewhere with my life, or at least preparing to.... Now I'm just kindof stuck, have a rather useless degree, and nothing to do. Yes, I am planning on continuing my education, and finally doing what I know I want to do with my life, and hopefully I can start that venture in the spring. But for now, I'm stuck missing everything. And missing everyone.

Though I am more introverted, and am generally uncomfortable with people, I really, truly miss all the people at DePauw. I had a lot of friends (to some degree or another) at DePauw, and I am really missing that now. All my friends from home are either still in school somewhere, graduated with a job somewhere, or married.... and I feel very much alone. I'm stuck at home with nowhere to go, and no one to talk with or go places with anyway. I don't even really have a way of meeting and hanging out with people. I'm trying to work on that, though. I've never been the kind to just go up to people, introduce myself, and engage them in conversation. It's rather inconvenient.... But all the same, I am so tired of sitting at home, or going to work all by myself. Until this point I've been working the closing shift at the Big Y bakery, which is a solo shift except on weekends, but I am now being trained to do morning work, which is with other people. But I still don't have friends or even just random people to hang out with. I'm stuck with going to work and being at home. I cannot wait to start school again.

My plan of action:
Get into grad school, and stay there as much as possible (aka, summer sessions and the like)
Learn all the things I've been wanting to
Finally start a career in the field I long to work in
Get a home of my own
And somewhere in there I will get married

Silent thoughts, hidden tears

Sometimes I almost forget that you're not perfect,
That you couldn't possibly see through me and know everything I think and feel.
Sometimes, I forget that you're just a boy.
Without even thinking about it, I expect you to understand me,
To feel exactly where I am.
I forget that you can't always do that.
You know me so well and can connect with me no matter where I am,
But there are some times you completely miss it.
It shouldn't be so shocking to me,
I have no right to expect you to always know and understand.
Those moments when you miss it, few though they are,
They affect me far more powerfully than I'd expect,
And far more powerfully than I can bring myself to admit.
I can't let you know about that.
As you disappear in completely the wrong direction, oblivious and unaware,
The tears start to gather in my abandonment.
Then suddenly, those tears fell.
An unexpected overflow of emotion.
You don't know about those tears. You missed them and the reason for them.
You missed it, and now I don't want you to know.
I'm too proud to admit my stupid sensitivity to you.
It's my own fault. You didn't really do anything wrong
I had been denying reality;
I had come to expect so much more from you than I had any right to do.
Then I fell and landed back on reality;
A fall that was reflected in that stupid fall of tears.
We know that I'm not perfect, and neither are you,
So of course we can't be perfect together.
Why is that so hard to remember sometimes?
I get so caught up in all that's so wonderful and right that I forget it's not all easy.
There will always be things that need work,
But I wouldn't want it any other way.
You are so worth the time and effort.
What we have together is more than worth it all.
And I love you.
I just want you to know that.

Nonfiction Lives

I love to read. I love finding a book (preferably from a series) that I can just got lost in and become a part of that world as I read. I get to see so many places, meet so many people, and experience so many things that I could never do in real life. Magical realms and old fashioned love stories are my favorite book worlds to escape to. But regardless of what kind of book I read, one of the things I enjoy most about books is the fact that they have a plot line.

Books are written with a beginning and an end, and it's all about the journey between those points. That journey and that end are already planned out, and everything in the book leads to that conclusion. I feel safer knowing that there is a plan, that everything has a purpose, the author has it under control, and everything is going to work out somehow. Unlike real life, I can see the whole journey in the book, I can follow the plan, and I get to know the ending. I love escaping to that alternate reality. But as much as I love books, and as much as I wish some aspects of those books could make their way over to real life, there are some things that I wish could just stay in the book world.

Characters who always take the wrong approach to things, who seem incapable of understanding, and who refuse to make any changes should stay in the book world where someone can deal with them there. Because, you know, such a character will be dealt with in some way, like being made to see reason, being subdued, having sense beat into them, being banished, just something. What I don't like is when such a character is in the real world, and there doesn't seem to be any way of successfully dealing with them. What do you do with someone who ranks above you, doesn't understand that they take the wrong approach to dealing with things, cause tension instead of relieving it, cannot relate to people, who does not understand how other people will and are responding, whose first reaction is to subdue and dominate to prove that they're in control, regardless of the fact that they can never get the results they want, and who explodes and retaliates to any attempt made to reason with them?

I hate the tension that comes out and the subtle feeling of hostility in the air. The sense of hopelessness that things can never be fixed. And I hate knowing that the one person who should be the one to deal with this character, has allowed themselves to be dominated, talked down, and belittled to the point that should they make a full effort now, they would have no effect. I am torn between the desire to take over and make things work, and the desire to run away to a time, place, and situation where I can escape all that and prove that things don't have to be that way. Prove that I won't be that way. To experience a life where I know things will never get that way, and will even be the exact opposite. Mutual trust, love, and understanding. A wonderful foundation to an amazing thing. That's my reality. That's the world I am living in, and proving that it doesn't just exist in books.

A whirlwind journey over four years.

A lot can happen in just four years. I've been thinking about the past four years a lot today in particular. In some ways they feel like so much more than just four years, but in other ways, I cannot believe that it's been four years. The time has passed all too quickly. And man has there been a lot packed into those four years. Today was actually a special day for me. On the surface it was just like any other day- work at the post office, some studying, paper writing, orchestra rehearsal, class, group project meeting, more homework (and soon to be closed off by a talk with my boy), but this day held much more significance for me. Four years ago today, I undertook what I hoped (and still hope) was the final step in dealing with a problem I've had to deal with since I was 9 (well, officially then, though I actually had it years before then). Namely-- Four years ago today I went under the knife for my second major brain surgery (first one was when I was 9). Yeah, not all of you knew about that, did you? So I'll just go ahead and say it-- I have epilepsy, caused by a brain tumor, Oligodendroglioma to be specific. I tend to avoid the subject for the most part. When I was much younger, I didn't really care too much and didn't really think about it. I really closed off on the subject when I was about 15 or so. That was when the seizures returned. As I approached the time for surgery number two, I tried to force myself to deal with everything by pretending it wasn't a big deal and making myself talk about it. After I went to college that fall, however, I hid away that part of me from most everyone. It wasn't until a couple years ago that I really explored just why I felt the need to hide this part of me and discovered a lot of trauma and hard memories buried away in my past that I didn't want to confront. Though I still feel rather uncomfortable on the subject, I have now been able to address the issues and fears from my past, and accept them. I cannot adequately express how grateful I am to the people who have been instrumental in this process in at least some small way, with a couple particular people helping in major ways.

Perhaps someday I'll come back to this subject, but I just wanted to start with it as it's what got me thinking about time and the past four years in the first place. (I also want to finish this post before it becomes midnight and is no longer technically "today".) So after that surgery, there was a long recovery process. I still had some high school work to finish up, and then I gave a senior recital during the summer. In the fall, I was off to college. Actually, if you look back at four years ago today, that was such a pivot point for me and my life. The surgery brought me from a place of struggling with my epilepsy to the point of being past it, hopefully for good. At that point in time, I was also reaching the end of the life I had always known, at home, a "homeschooler". In the fall, I would go off to college, way out in Indiana, and start a new chapter in my life. College has brought so many changes into my life and has been such a whirlwind four years. I feel like I've been here for so long. Almost like I've always been here, and of course I'll always be here. But at the same time, it feels so short, and I am NOT ready for it to be over.

In these four years, I have made many wonderful friendships, have experienced the ups and downs of relationships, discovered a deep love for music theory (what can I say? I'm a nerd!), have developed close ties with many of my professors and with the community, have truly received a "well-rounded education", have finally discovered my passion and have a direction for my future, have been blessed to participate in four weddings (bridal party for two of them and music for the other two), and have learned so much about myself. You know what I've realized? Some people may say you change a lot during these years, and maybe some people do, but I don't think that's really the case for me. Of course I'm not exactly the same as I was four years ago, but it's not so much that I've changed but that I've grown. I am very much the same me, but I now know who I am more than I used to, have learned to open up and accept who I am and what I've been through, and have developed from there. I am not a different me now, I am just a fuller me, a more realized me, a real me.

The past four years have seen times of pain, of struggle, of tears, of despair, and of deep hurt; but they have also seen times of joy, of smiles, of silliness, of laughter, and of hope. And right now, I think I can safely say that I am at the best place I can ever remember being. I know what I want for my life. I may not know exactly how to get there, but I have a dream to follow. I have dealt with the demons in my past, and am in the process of leaving those shadows far behind. I am a much fuller version of me, and am so much more comfortable with myself than I have been since I was a young, oblivious child. And right now, I am in a relationship with a wonderful man, and it is so much better than anything I could have ever dreamed possible. I cannot keep from smiling and constantly have a song in my heart. Though I know I still have things to work through, and I know there will be rough times ahead, right now I am happier than I've ever been. I can now look at my future with great hope.

(And as it is almost midnight, I must post this. The flow is not as great as I would like it to be, and I kinda rushed through a lot of things without much explanation, but I really just wanted to write it all out and get it posted. :P)

Ice Day(s)!

So back home in CT everyone is getting slammed with crazy snow storms. Well, out here in Indiana, we got majorly slammed with an ice storm! By yesterday evening the county had issued a level 1 weather emergency, and travel was restricted to emergency vehicles only. The University was closed down yesterday and today as well. This is a pic from yesterday, before phase two of the ice hit, but you can see already how the trees were laden down by the ice. It was crazy! Well, it still is, and it's even worse. We've had lots of falling limbs and power lines.

The branches don't look like this anymore, as now they have at least a full inch of ice on them, but this pic will give you an idea, anyway. Just before phase two started to hit yesterday evening, I went outside with two of my roommates to have a bit of an adventure in the ice. The cars were (still are) completely iced over. Like, there is no way anyone is going to get in their car for a very long time. One car we saw on the side of a road had been completely smashed in the back by a giant, ice-covered limb that had fallen. It was sad.

It is very Narnia looking out there-- Always winter, never spring. It certainly looks like everything is permanently frozen over, has been for a long time, and will continue to be for an indefinite amount of time. It's actually really cool! I know it's scary, how much ice there is covering everything, but it's so beautiful! I'm so glad we haven't had classes, so I can just enjoy seeing the ice out there. And not die while trying to walk through it.....

This is how the grass looked yesterday.... Individual blades were coated with ice, and it was so amazing! When we ventured out to explore and adventurize, we had a lot of fun crunching across the grass, feeling it break under our feet. Hahaha, it was like a premature stress-reliever. (we've only had one day of classes so far this semester, so not much stress has built up yet, but still....) One of the girls was so funny. She is one of the sweetest creatures you will ever meet, and she was the one to get us started stomping on the grass. She was enjoying "killing" various things, because the were so frozen that if you shook them or tried to crack the ice off, you'd end up actually breaking the branch/leaves/grass/what-have-you off. I stole all these pictures from a very artistic friend of mine who put up a very large album on facebook. I'm hoping someone will put up more pictures from today. This afternoon we all ventured out to the home of a family who lives just off campus.Their eldest daughter graduated from DePauw last year, and the mom is a member of my knitting group.

They are an absolutely wonderful family, and they like to have college students over to their house every Tuesday evening for dinner. Due to the extreme weather conditions yesterday, we postponed dinner until a mid-afternoon deal today. Walking over there was amazing! Due to the new layer of ice, the grass was completely covered, no lumps poking out, and most of the footprints and tracks made in the sidewalks were also filled in. It was so slippery! I slid most of the way, and it was such funnn! I kindof want to go adventuring tonight and slip and slide my way around campus. It would be so awesome by moonlight!

But anyway, I should actually read some stuff for my psych class tomorrow. I just wanted to put up a few pictures and talk about the adventure the past couple days have turned out to be. Fortunately, we never lost power and had to be relocated like a couple places had to be.

So sore

I took a free weights class at school this last semester. It was good. I didn't really learn much of anything from the class itself, but I did get many tips and exercises from a few of my classmates. It was such a good thing for me to be using the gym. I had class twice a week, and I tried to get in the gym two or three more times besides that each week. It felt great to be exercising and getting into some kind of shape, as well as developing my body. When I came home, I attempted to get myself into the habit of some form of exercise, but I knew it wouldn't be nearly as extensive as at the gym, and that I wouldn't be able to stick with it for long.
I started off going for a jog up and down the street almost every day, plus a few other leg exercises and pushups. As I expected, that attempt did not last longer than a week. I decided to get a gym membership for the summer. In doing so, I was given a free session with a trainer. That session convinced me to sign up to meet with a trainer once each week. I had two sessions with the original man (both in the same week), I think he must be the head guy or something, and maybe he evaluates people... I dunno. Those were both rather tiring, but esp. the second one, as it was a cardio test and basically left me dead at the end. After that I have now had two sessions with my real trainer. Both of those sessions left me so tired that I was stumbling to the car afterward.
Unfortunately, though I have a membership now, and a trainer to stimulate me to work harder and do more, I only went into the gym once last week besides my session. I did do a few things with an exercise ball at home another day, and Saturday I went through the whole regimen from the previous session. It's a lot harder than I thought it would be to find time to get over to the gym. What with working most days, family stuff, and working on staining my grandparents' porch (they live 40 minutes away), I don't have much free time. But the first trainer I met with was right. Having a trainer to meet with once a week does provide that extra push to keep you working. Knowing now just how hard he'll push me in my sessions really makes me feel the need to actually go exercise more throughout the week so I can develop those muscles which he completely wears out in my sessions, both because now I'm aware of how much they need it, and so that he can't wear me out that completely again the next time.
Yesterday's session wore my legs down to rubber. I had to lean heavily on the railing as I stumbled down the very shallow steps like an infirm old lady. I was afraid that if I did not take very shallow, careful steps across the parking lot that my legs would just give way and I'd helplessly fall to the ground. That worn out feeling has now given way to intense soreness. It burns just to crouch down to sit on the toilet! Oy I need to work out more. I think by the end of the semester I had rather plateaued, and now I am getting that push up to a higher level. I thought I was in such great shape (for me at least) when I came home. Still can't run, never was a runner, but I was pretty well developed everywhere else. Turns out I had barely touched on things, and the way I was exercising was not the most efficient. I can work harder and better in just half an hour with a trainer than I did in an hour on my own at school. This will be incredibly good for me, but first I need to relocate and renew the enthusiasm I initially had for working out when I signed up. Haha, they had several forms for me to fill out at the beginning, and one section on one of them had me rate how motivated I felt to exercise and get in shape. I was still hyped up from what I had been able to do at school, and really wanted to continue that and push it farther, so I answered 9 on a scale of 1-10. I think I've dropped down to a 4 or 5..... I despaired a bit after those sessions, but now I'm ready to re-energize and get working!

Letting Go

I know it's been a long time since I've written. The last couple weeks at school were really rough, and definitely some of the most stressful weeks at school I've experienced. Finals week was a killer. Not that I had a bunch of bad finals or anything, I actually had papers instead. For me, though, I think that was worse, or at least, having that many papers was worse. I had four large papers plus another large project due finals week, and consequently wrote over 50 pages of material, plus my large project that week. It was really rough. But I finally made it through, packed everything away, and flew home.

Now that I'm home, there are things I must confront and work out. As suggested by my title, I have to do some letting go. Some things will be quite a relief to let go of, such as the tremendous pressures and stress of keeping up with my homework and maintaining good grades. Other things will be harder. At the same time that I must let go of some of my stricter lifestyles from school life, I must also let go of some of my lazier ones. There are certain attitudes I need to let go of, masks and cloaks I need to let go of, automatic reactions I need to let go of, personal desires I need to let go of, and emotions I need to let go of. Needless to say, there's a lot, and it will be hard. I get into ruts when I'm at school. Or maybe it's that I feel I can escape and hide away in various ways when I'm at school, but all that is disrupted when I go home.

I haven't spent more than a week or two at home in a very long time. (well, I guess I spent just over two weeks at home over Christmas break) The last time I spent more time than that at home was the summer between freshman and sophomore year. (that would be summer of 08. Two years ago. That's a long time. The atmosphere is different at home. Very different. I'm now used to the school atmosphere, and the atmosphere of the little town. I'm used to the people there, and the various means of escaping. There's always another room to go to, there's always another building to go to, there's always a place outside to go to, always a tree to go to, always other people to hang around with or to avoid. Here, it almost feels like I'm stuck. I love my family dearly and wouldn't really wish to be anywhere else. But, it's hard to be stuck in my little house to no place to escape to for privacy and a chance to try to work things out. I really miss just leaving my duplex at night and going across the street to the athletic park. I miss walking the labyrinth at night, and just sitting on the edge of the hill. I miss my various tree friends. I just miss the freedom, solitude, and the familiar habits I had at school. There were certain places, and even times, that became connected with thinking and wrestling through things. Now I don't have those and I don't really know what to do. It would be easier if I had my own room, but we don't have enough rooms for that, and I'm sharing with my sister.

It's just such a different atmosphere here at home. I feel almost like I end up being one person at school and another person at home, but it's not quite that bad. Maybe it's just that I can't quite fit in at school, and I also don't quite fit in back home. The mold I left can no longer hold me when I return. Part of why I don't feel like I don't really fit in anywhere is due to the various obstacles I have constructed. Emotional obstacles, habitual obstacles, and obstacles of disguise. These are part of the things I need to let go. I don't really know how to get started on everything, but I'm going to try. The sooner the better, I guess, but it's so much easier to just sit around a relax....

I knew I didn't want to get involved in the theater...

I don't think I ever wrote anything about working for a theater show.... if I did, I didn't go into much detail. So there is a student-run production getting ready to go up this weekend. I'm friends with the director, the musical director, the accompanist, the band members, the sound tech person and the light tech person (as well as several members of the cast), so when the music director started asking around for someone to stage manage, I volunteered. I'm the House Manager in the school of music, and manage all the large events and do a lot of stage managing for smaller events as well, so I thought working a theater show would be good experience too. It's turning out to be a lot rougher than I had expected, and I'm being reminded over and over again of why I didn't want to get involved in the theater.... ever. Sure I've played in pits, and even that is plenty enough and even more than enough for me. But oy.... it's rough. It's actually not so much any one element, but mostly the combination of several. Well, I suppose one in stronger than the others, but it's still the combination that's the worst.

I came to the scene rather late. Everyone had their parts and were learning them, musical rehearsals were being held, dance rehearsals were being held, the set was being built, all that had been going on before I was brought on board. I went to a couple meetings, but didn't really get started with the show until last week. Since then, I've had three hours of my evening eaten up every day by the rehearsals. Evenings are my only free time to actually do homework....Now I don't even have that time. The director is getting pretty stressed over the show, since it goes up this weekend and things are still pretty rough in a lot of ways. I'm kindof like her buffer, and almost her personal slave. I do want to help her, and try to do so in every way I can, but it's taking a lot out of me. I now know almost every line in the show, every song in the show, all the cue lines, who is supposed to be where when, who takes care of what props when, where, and how, and so much more. I've been sitting next to the director the past two nights as we've run the show and had her give me all her comments to type up, meanwhile also listening to the band so I could provide feedback to them as well. I also show up early and stay late to help set the stage and then clear it again. It's just really busy and stressful. Because it's put on by students (only a little help from some faculty), resources are limited. Until tonight we were without soundboard or lightboard personnel. We had someone who was supposed to design lights, but hadn't come at all yet, and someone who was going to help with sounds, but he was in the show so he couldn't run the board. I went crazy all yesterday and today trying to find someone and finally got someone who could help. That's one thing taken care of.

Yeah, it's just a lot of details and stuff to care for, plus I have all the director's anxiety and stress spilling over onto me. That whole bit just is not my scene. I hold my own pretty well, but that's partly the problem. There's so much that needs to be done, so I throw myself into it and try to do as much as absolutely possible. At the same time, I'm getting frustrated, worn out, and just tired, but I can't let people know that, so I have to work even harder to hide that and maintain my cool. I have to remain collected and always know what's going on and what needs to be done. That gets old.... I can't wait for this to be over.

Now for the biggest part. I can't stand swearing. At all. Of course, here in college (and everywhere else too I suppose, it's just worse here), everyone swears practically every other word. The show actually has a lot of bad language in it, but the director wants it to be "family friendly", so everyone has had to go through their parts and make substitutions. There are still things that slip through, and I think I'm the only one who notices. I'm actually enjoying the show for the most part. I love the songs and many of the story lines. There are a few things I don't particularly care for, but overall, at least I like the show. It's just that whenever people miss lines, talk about things, or esp. when the director goes over stuff with the cast that all the swearing breaks loose and I can't stand it! That's probably what makes all the hours the hardest. I could deal with the stress better if I wasn't also constantly frustrated with everyone around me swearing all the time for no reason at all. I cringe every single time I hear a cuss word, but it's just second nature to them and they don't notice at all.

My other reason for never wanting to get involved in the theater doesn't really come into play here, but I'll mention it briefly so you have a better picture of my thoughts. This applies more to if I were to act, but also spreads to those who do. I disagree with the idea of playing parts that go against my morals, or the morals of a Christian. I would never play a part where someone says or does something I myself would never say or do. I don't think any Christian should play parts that require them to say or do things that go against what the conduct and language of what a Christian should be. I don't care if it's just "acting", it's the fact that you as a Christian seem to be sanctioning things because you are acting them out on stage. You demean yourself and what you stand for if you compromise and play parts on the stage that don't hold with your beliefs and how you should act accordingly. But anyway. I should stop now and study for my psych exam. I just needed to vent a bit. Gosh am I ever ready for the stress of everything to be over.

Being productive?

Now that I am without facebook I turn on my computer, check both my emails and sign into chat..... then realize that I have nothing else to do. I'm so used to signing into facebook, checking my notifications, using my stalker feed to find out everything everyone has done since the last time I was on, and doing more detailed stalking of specific people. Of course, I sign into the chat there too, and see if anyone gets on that I can talk with. The problem with facebook is that I can't just check it and be good. It's a live-updating thing..... so I stay on..... and keep refreshing and stalking people.... and keep checking on new things that come up.... and go back over old stuff..... and it just eats all my time. Now, I check my emails and I'm done. I feel like I may start being more prodcutive. I guess I was a bit more focused last night as I was preparing my sources for my final paper. Now that I don't have anything else to do on my computer, I have the feeling that I will be able to actually start on work I need to do and focus on it without the distraction of constantly refreshing my facebook page. Actually, I'm feeling good about not having facebook, if you can believe it. I miss it, but at the same time, I feel good and even relieved. This is good. This is what I need. I'm still a little lost without facebook, but I'm finding my way. And now I know that if I get too dependant on facebook again, I can survive without it and will deactivate it again.

Hmm, I never did talk about why I decided to deactivate in the first place. Well, you can kinda get part of the picture from what I said earlier about how much time I spend just stalking and following up on everything on there. And obsessing about refreshing and checking for new stuff. It just ate so much of my time and I really fell into quite an unproductive rut. I would also end up getting almost depressed, in a sense, because either no one was interacting with me, no one had noticed or said anything about rough times I was going through, or one of the biggest depressing factors was seeing all the stuff going on in my friends' lives. There are a lot of upsetting things to be seen in people's news feeds. I won't explain in detail, but I was just getting upset over things I was seeing, and especially things going on with people I care about. I was getting too involved and it wasn't good for me. So I removed myself from it all. Definitely needed a break and time to refocus.

Now I must be off to studio class and then actually do some studying! (and sleep..... I get to sleep tonight..... Mmmm, that will be wonderful.)

A time of divesting and refocusing.

I haven't been here for a while.... I may.... no guarantees, but just may blog more over the next two weeks. I have deactivated my facebook and intend to remain without out it for these next two weeks. Depending on how this goes, I may do similar things now and then, or after i get back on I may turn right around and deactivate it for another several weeks. I won't get rid of it permanently. It's such a good tool to stay connected with a wide range of people, and let's face it, I like to stalk! I like to find out what's going on in everybody's lives. But right now, I have too much to deal with and am in the process of removing a lot of things and trying to fix my focus on where it needs to be. Yes I'm going to be pretty vague (and by that I mean very), but I do want to write about things a bit. Plus I'm going to miss updating facebook whenever something happens or I just feel like sharing something. Not that it matters so much here, since pretty much nobody actually reads this.... but who knows, if I make a habit of deactivating facebook for a while, I can let people know about my blog and maybe more people will read it. That would be nice. I'll just have to be careful not to treat it too much like my journal... can't get too personal, ya know. ~_^ I was thinking the other day.... journaling is such a strange concept. I don't know about most people and how they approach it, but to me it feels like I'm talking to myself. I mean, I'm talking, I'm opening up and spilling what's on my heart and mind, but to whom? The book is inanimate, so it's kinda weird to address the book. But it's not like a letter to another person, because generally they aren't for anyone else's eyes. (at least I know mine isn't.) So yeah, I feel like it's just another way for me to talk with myself, and that way is sanctioned by the general populace. See, I'm one of those people who talks to themself all the time. Like literally, out loud, pretty much everywhere. I'll be talking as I walk around and catch myself just as people are passing within earshot, restrain the flow until they've past, then continue with a so anyways.... It's kindof a bad habit I fear. I can't help but think that journaling enhances that though. It's just talking to myself about what's going on and reliving conversations and situations on paper instead of out loud.

But anyway, I kindof digressed, and now I have to shower and go see a concert, so I'll have to get back to my main point in a later post.

Winter Term

So I'm back at school and into the last week of Winter Term. Feels so weird! I'm definitely not ready for the semester to start yet. There's so much I was hoping to accomplish over winter term, but have not been able to do so. Of course, I haven't exactly been managing my time very well. I've been practicing a good amount, though not as much as I had intended to. I have been spending more time with people and getting to know some of my classmates better, so that's good. Thing is, haha, I still have not completely unpacked from break..... *shhh* I'll get to that eventually. Need to make a clean start to the semester. Also need to get myself back into a decent sleeping schedule. Well, I guess that unless I get scheduled for work early in the morning, I could actually sleep to a later hour during the semester on Tue, Thu, and Fri. But all the same, it's not good for me to stay up as late as I do all the time. But I love the night time! I love sleep too, but I can do that anytime. kinda. But I love the quiet at night and being able to hang out and be goofy. Hm. Choices. Anyway, time to get back to stuff. I waste too much time online. Going to actually hang out with the girls I live with. It's sad how little I see them, even though I live with them.

Life can be such a pain.

Why is it that the one thing you really need to do is the one thing you want most not to do? Why is it that the more you realize the need to do that thing the more you try desperately to avoid it? It seems that for every small step towards it is matched by another step away, and I'm just not really getting anywhere. Uncertain, hesitant, increasingly frustrated and frayed. Moody and tired of wearing a mask, but the mask is my safety, I can't give it up.

Why are we always in such a hurry? Why do we rush through life?

This is a question that has been in the back of my mind for some time, but I've been thinking about it a lot more since the beginning of the summer. I did a lot of house-sitting over the summer, and therefore had the use of other people's cars. (I do not yet have one of my own.) I am from Connecticut and people are always in a hurry there, but I stayed in sweet little Greencastle Indiana for the summer, and guess what? People are in a hurry even here! The experience of driving to and from work everyday, plus trips to the store and to see friends, has increased my awareness of how impatient people are on the road, and due to that observation I've been thinking about how impatient people are in life as well. I'll start with the road, since I think that is a very obvious example, yet a very insightful key to other areas of life.

Greencastle is a sweet, homey little town, and is really very beautiful in the surrounding countryside. The homes I stayed at were all just out of town in lovely, friendly little neighborhoods. To get to the last home I stayed at you leave all the main roads behind and drive on a twisty little country road, and boy was it ever scenic! Once you leave town the landscape just opens up, there are a few hills with great views and little farms here and there. Oh I loved that drive. The road starts at 30 mph, later increasing to 45 mph, but cars would always pile up behind me because I was going the speed limit, then go roaring past me at the first opportunity. Why? Why were they so impatient? The summer was fairly mild, perfect for driving with the windows down, and the mornings were absolutely lovely. Why then were people in such a rush to get where they were going rather than enjoying the life around them? I've been teased about being a "cloud-watcher", and it is true that as a passenger in a car I spend most of my time looking at the clouds and all the scenery around rather than paying the slightest attention to how we were getting to wherever we were going. (Thus my wretched sense of direction.) I've always been a nature lover, but it doesn't necessarily follow that you have to be a nature lover to enjoy life instead of rushing through it.

Back to the road. When I would drive to work in the morning I could somewhat understand the impatience of the other drivers. They just wanted to get to work too, and this young girl was stubbornly going the speed limit, if not a couple miles under. But you know what? If they weren't always in such a rush and oblivious to the beauties of life around them, they could plan to leave just 5-10 minutes earlier and enjoy the drive to work! Is everything really about saving those couple minutes? People try to find all the shortcuts, "save" a minute here and there, shave off a couple seconds from this or that, but why? For what? What do they do with those few minutes of saved time?

So ok, people will be impatient on the road in the morning because they just want to get to work as quickly as possible, right? Well then, why is it that in the middle of a lovely afternoon, people are still impatient as ever on the road? Why is it that any time of the day at all, everyone's just in one big rush? You know, for many people, the time they spend on the road is the closest thing they'll get to enjoying nature. The rest of the time they're locked away in a little cubicle typing away on a computer, or glued to the couch watching TV. Why not enjoy the break from all that and take your time on the road? If I had a car I would totally go out on pleasure drives. As it is, I rarely use my bike and walk everywhere instead. (The best part about that is the opportunity to go barefoot... :D :D :D)

I just don't understand why people are so concerned with getting wherever they're going as fast as possible, and not only that, but why they are determined to do so while secluding themselves from all interaction with people and/or nature. I was talking with a professor earlier this week about how travel has changed over the years. Everyone used to use trains, and taking the train used to be a very social thing. People talked with each other, there were dinner cars, concerts, bars, card games, all kinds of stuff. Now if you take a train, you keep to your own seat and ignore everyone else. Same thing with buses and planes now. You may be forced to travel with other people, but you can still seclude yourself from everyone. Yay for technology... Phones, ipods, computers, mini DVD players, etc. And then we have the car. You drive to work alone in your personal metal cage, secluding yourself from all the others on the road in their own metal cages.

I guess I just don't really belong to this day and age. But I'm stuck here and there's really not anything I can do about it. Maybe someday I can live in a quiet little town similar to Greencastle. I'd like to be away from the bustle of life, yet still have people around and have some simple stores in the vicinity. I'd like to be friends with the people in my neighborhood and to have a friendly, close community. But I don't know if my prospective profession will allow me that life. I may end up needing to drive into a busy city somewhere to work at a hospital or some such place. I know that if that's where I'm needed, I'll go, but I refuse to actually live in a city. I would kill myself if I had to do that. But who knows, perhaps I'll end up working in a smalltown hospital or nursing home. I'd like that a lot. I'll write a post about all my career thoughts later on. (I realize that I never actually migrated away from the road and so did not talk about the other areas of life in which people rush and are impatient. Oh well, thoughts for another post.) But for now, I am going to enjoy an absolutely lovely Saturday in the fall.