I love the weather today; it's cloudy and cool. Perfect for sleeping in and drinking chai and watching movies like "You've Got Mail" under a down throw with my dog. Today is also a wonderful day because it's my dad's 50th birthday. It is hard to believe my dad is 50 years old. It scares me that my parents are getting older. It's like people say, "They take care of you your whole life and somewhere along the line, the roles reverse and you take care of them." I love my parents: they are vibrant and sassy and intelligent and full of life. I remember telling people my dad was 35; where have the years gone? I don't want them to get older. Maybe it is my whole fear of change. Maybe I don't want to get older. Who knows? All I know is when my parents stop being "hip" and either one starts to complain about their "hip", it will be a sad, sad day. My mom says 50 is the new thirty. I was recently told pink is the new black. Everyone wants something they are or own to be "in". In my book, I would love it if someone said...hey, Volkswagen is the new Mercedes. Yes....yes....
I don't have much to say this afternoon, so I will quote something I am reading. Last night at 1:15 am, I decided it was a good idea to begin reading "Self-Reliance and Other Essays" by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Why I chose this book out of shelves of others, I have no idea. Maybe because it is thinner than most of my books, at only 117 pages. Maybe it was fate that I picked it up off of the shelf, because his words made a lot of sense to me. Maybe they made sense to me because I was deliriously tired but could not go to sleep. He writes and essay entitled "Friendship" and I really enjoyed it's overall message-- the importance of friendship in one's life.
Emerson writes:
I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with the roughest courage. When they are real, they are not glass threads or frostwork, but the solidest thing we know.... A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud. I am arrived at last in the presence of a man so real and equal, that I may drop even those undermost garments of dissimulation, courtesy, and second thought, which men never put off, and may deal with him with the simplicity and wholeness with which one chemical atom meets another.... So I will owe to my friends this evanescent intercourse. I will receive from them, not what they have but what they are.
I have recently been thinking about the kind of friend I am vs. the kind of friend I want to be. I want to be a friend that expresses my love through not only my words, but moreso, my actions. I want to have the kind of love for my friends that Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 13 where he writes:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
This is something I am working on. This is something I will strive for. Emily Dickinson wrote, "My friends are my estate." My friends and family truly are where my wealth is placed. What to do with these thoughts? There is nothing left but to act, and sometimes acting can be actively giving a friend time and not doing anything, sometimes it can mean driving hours to see a friend for the afternoon, sometimes it is just being there for someone, even if neither person knows what to say. At times I wish my heart was transparent.... I need to be able to take risks. I take risks in my writing and in chasing a porcupine in a cave with a big stick (thanks Grant), so why can't I take them in the area of my life that I value the most. I will...
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
I may take a holiday in Spain...
My mom played hooky today. How great is that? Better yet, she's playing hooky again tomorrow and skipping work and class for my dad's 50th birthday. I think I should follow her example and take tomorrow off. I will personally greet my dad, singing "Happy Birthday to You", then I will sleep and watch Lifetime for the rest of the afternoon. One word: perfection. Throw in some ice cream and a nice massage and it would be heaven. Today, instead of her going to class, mom and I went to Chili's and had lunch. We then shopped for my dad's birthday present. On our excursion I picked up "Eternal Sunshine" for Friday night's viewing. Oh, yes. Lunch and my DVD purchase have been the highlights of an otherwise pretty monotonous day.
This morning I had a test in reading, which, thankfully, was much easier than I had expected. I did not get into bed until late last night, and I vowed to wake up around 6:30 to study before the 8:50 exam. Did that happen? Of course not. I slept until 7:55 and then threw my stuff together and ran out of the apartment. At least I did not over study; I would have felt like that was a huge waste of time. Instead of studying as hard as I should have, I played guitar, watched some TV, and talked to friends on the computer. I kicked myself as I went to bed, but I studied just the right amount (sitting at Java City with my laptop and notecards) to do well on the exam.
This afternoon I sat outside on a bench and read for two hours-- cool breeze, no heavy wind, great afternoon. I love the weather; it is finally fall-- my favorite season. I think my favorite feeling, when the change of seasons is actually palpable, is when you are driving in a car and for the first time since the sweltering summer you press your fingertips to the window and the glass is cooler than the interior of the car. It is cooler outside than inside. I love that. I think that seasons are the only things I don't mind changing; I wouldn't want them to stay the same year round. Other than that, I am not a fan of change in any sordid fashion.
Tonight I will be slaving away in the library, working towards the completion of a research project for Dr. Thompson. I am thinking of having my mail forwarded:
Melia A. McFarland
HSU Richardson Library
1st floor, across from stacks
Abilene, TX 79698
What do you think?
Old school album I am listening to: Goo Goo Dolls "Dizzy Up The Girl"
Favorite song on the album: Acoustic #3
They painted up your secrets
With the lies they told to you
And the least they ever gave you
Was the most you ever knew
And I wonder where these dreams go
When the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screaming
No one's listening anyway
Your voice is small and fading
And you hide in here unknown
And your mother loves your father
'Cause she's got nowhere to go
And she wonders where these dreams go
'Cause the world got in her way
What's the point in ever trying
Nothing's changing anyway
They press their lips against you
And you love the lies they say
And I tried so hard to reach you
But you're falling anyway
And you know I see right through you
When the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screamin'
You're not listening anyway.
This morning I had a test in reading, which, thankfully, was much easier than I had expected. I did not get into bed until late last night, and I vowed to wake up around 6:30 to study before the 8:50 exam. Did that happen? Of course not. I slept until 7:55 and then threw my stuff together and ran out of the apartment. At least I did not over study; I would have felt like that was a huge waste of time. Instead of studying as hard as I should have, I played guitar, watched some TV, and talked to friends on the computer. I kicked myself as I went to bed, but I studied just the right amount (sitting at Java City with my laptop and notecards) to do well on the exam.
This afternoon I sat outside on a bench and read for two hours-- cool breeze, no heavy wind, great afternoon. I love the weather; it is finally fall-- my favorite season. I think my favorite feeling, when the change of seasons is actually palpable, is when you are driving in a car and for the first time since the sweltering summer you press your fingertips to the window and the glass is cooler than the interior of the car. It is cooler outside than inside. I love that. I think that seasons are the only things I don't mind changing; I wouldn't want them to stay the same year round. Other than that, I am not a fan of change in any sordid fashion.
Tonight I will be slaving away in the library, working towards the completion of a research project for Dr. Thompson. I am thinking of having my mail forwarded:
Melia A. McFarland
HSU Richardson Library
1st floor, across from stacks
Abilene, TX 79698
What do you think?
Old school album I am listening to: Goo Goo Dolls "Dizzy Up The Girl"
Favorite song on the album: Acoustic #3
They painted up your secrets
With the lies they told to you
And the least they ever gave you
Was the most you ever knew
And I wonder where these dreams go
When the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screaming
No one's listening anyway
Your voice is small and fading
And you hide in here unknown
And your mother loves your father
'Cause she's got nowhere to go
And she wonders where these dreams go
'Cause the world got in her way
What's the point in ever trying
Nothing's changing anyway
They press their lips against you
And you love the lies they say
And I tried so hard to reach you
But you're falling anyway
And you know I see right through you
When the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screamin'
You're not listening anyway.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
You have been erased from someone's memory...
How many times in your life have you wanted to erase something from your life: mistakes you've made, relationships that ended badly, memories that cause you pain? That is what makes "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" a brilliant movie. It makes the idea of erasing the parts of life that hurt a reality.
The title of the movie comes from a poem by Alexander Pope, which reads:
"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd." The concept behind this movie is universal, causing every viewer to relate on some level. It is easy to say that we wish we could erase all of the ugly parts of our mind that we don't want anyone to see; the parts that humiliate us, anger us, or cause that deep-set pain in your stomach, but don't those memories provide us with an education? If it were not for relationships past, or consequences we have had to face, or a number of other trials we have all been through, we would not have a sturdy foundation beneath our feet. If a machine could miraculously take away the bad, wouldn't it, in turn, take away the good as well?
I think of all the things I would want erased, but if they were all gone I would lose the connections to some of the best moments in my life. This idea can be illustrated through landscaping. There are several bushes in my front yard, and last summer, many of the branches began to turn brown and die. I found a website that showed me exactly how these bushes needed to be trimmed in order to remove the "diseased" parts without affecting the bush as a whole. If you cut out the diseased parts correctly, the bush would thrive and replenish itself over time. If you cut away the dead parts incorrectly, the entire bush would die. The way I relate this to the idea of erasing memories is this: If we haphazardly had our worst memories erased, or tried to erase them ourselves, all of the good memories that stemmed from those bad would be erased as well, killing our minds. However, if we are careful, we can eliminate the surface memories of the things that hurt us, while keeping the redeeming memories. It is impossible to wipe out all of the bad, without erasing some of the good. We need to learn how to deal with the bad, in order to see how those moments have provided us with good memories we may not have otherwise.
Here is another example to show how erasing the bad can erase the good:
One of the most painful experiences in life is the death of a loved one. It is easy to say that we do not want to remember the moments leading up to the end. We don't want to think of them sick or hurting or laying in a hospital. We do not want to think about anything surrounding his or her actual death. However, if we chose to erase those memories like Joel does in "Eternal Sunshine", the person would disappear completely. It would get rid of the ugly, but it would also rob us of the beautiful: the moments of laughter, late night conversations, holidays, etc.
I think this movie intrigues me so much because of its universality, but it also puts things into perspective. It is ludicrous to think we can erase our pain. Dealing with it makes us stronger, and in the most chaotic situations, beauty can emerge.
The title of the movie comes from a poem by Alexander Pope, which reads:
"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd." The concept behind this movie is universal, causing every viewer to relate on some level. It is easy to say that we wish we could erase all of the ugly parts of our mind that we don't want anyone to see; the parts that humiliate us, anger us, or cause that deep-set pain in your stomach, but don't those memories provide us with an education? If it were not for relationships past, or consequences we have had to face, or a number of other trials we have all been through, we would not have a sturdy foundation beneath our feet. If a machine could miraculously take away the bad, wouldn't it, in turn, take away the good as well?
I think of all the things I would want erased, but if they were all gone I would lose the connections to some of the best moments in my life. This idea can be illustrated through landscaping. There are several bushes in my front yard, and last summer, many of the branches began to turn brown and die. I found a website that showed me exactly how these bushes needed to be trimmed in order to remove the "diseased" parts without affecting the bush as a whole. If you cut out the diseased parts correctly, the bush would thrive and replenish itself over time. If you cut away the dead parts incorrectly, the entire bush would die. The way I relate this to the idea of erasing memories is this: If we haphazardly had our worst memories erased, or tried to erase them ourselves, all of the good memories that stemmed from those bad would be erased as well, killing our minds. However, if we are careful, we can eliminate the surface memories of the things that hurt us, while keeping the redeeming memories. It is impossible to wipe out all of the bad, without erasing some of the good. We need to learn how to deal with the bad, in order to see how those moments have provided us with good memories we may not have otherwise.
Here is another example to show how erasing the bad can erase the good:
One of the most painful experiences in life is the death of a loved one. It is easy to say that we do not want to remember the moments leading up to the end. We don't want to think of them sick or hurting or laying in a hospital. We do not want to think about anything surrounding his or her actual death. However, if we chose to erase those memories like Joel does in "Eternal Sunshine", the person would disappear completely. It would get rid of the ugly, but it would also rob us of the beautiful: the moments of laughter, late night conversations, holidays, etc.
I think this movie intrigues me so much because of its universality, but it also puts things into perspective. It is ludicrous to think we can erase our pain. Dealing with it makes us stronger, and in the most chaotic situations, beauty can emerge.
Monday, September 27, 2004
Words they come and memories all repeat...
Yesterday I found a CD that Zack made me for my eighteenth birthday, four years ago. I remember how I felt listening to it the first time; each song struck a chord. It is full of senior year memories: fights, relationships, friendship, anger, nights out at Grant's ranch, love. Sitting in the library, I put it in my laptop and listened-- Third Eye Blind, Matchbox 20, Goo Goo Dolls, etc. The songs are still applicable to my life today. They have fallen into my hands at precisely the right time, just as they did years ago. Isn't it incredible how music can clearly speak the jumbled thoughts of your heart and mind right back to you? I don't talk to Zack anymore, but if I did I would say thank you. Somehow, through the songs on this mix album, my heart has changed. The way I think about things is evolving-- all because of the lyrics to one song.
I have nothing new of any importance to share. Last night I had coffee with a friend and then came home to my room, my dog, and my computer-- where I sat until late into the night finishing up editing. On second thought,I guess this is a pretty exciting development; I may be spending New Year's in Las Vegas. That's right, baby! I keep playing a certain scene from "Friends" over and over in my head:
Mondays are nothing but work, school, and meetings. I will probably not be home until pretty late because The Brand goes to print tomorrow and I have to go over it with a fine tooth comb. Thank God for Chicken E sweet tea or I would never make it; they even have "bucket drinks" now, which I think must be targeted for college students that stay up late. It's an ingenius idea. Although, I am not sure that ingesting over 50 oz. of any drink is a good idea. Where the crap do you put it? When I get home tonight I am going to reward myself with a BBC, and I hope to finish Sex and the City season 6. It's getting so good! I can't believe it's over.
Old school lyrics I am enjoying right now:
The Background by Third Eye Blind
Everything is quiet, since you're not around
And I live in the numbness now, in the background.
I do the things we did before. I walk Haight Street to the store,
and they say where's that crazy girl? You don't get drunk on red wine,
and fight no more. I don't see you anymore, since the hospital.
The plans I make still have you in them, cause you come swimming into view.
And I'm hanging on your words like I always used to do.
The words they use so lightly, I only feel for you.
I only know because I carry you around, in the background.
Words they come and memories all repeat.
Lift your head while they change the hospital sheets.
I would never lie to you, no, I would never lie to you, no.
I felt you long after we were through, when we were through.
The plans I make still have you in them, cause you come swimming into view.
And I'm hanging on your words like I always used to do.
The words they use so lightly, I only feel for you.
I only know because I carry you around, in the background.
I have nothing new of any importance to share. Last night I had coffee with a friend and then came home to my room, my dog, and my computer-- where I sat until late into the night finishing up editing. On second thought,I guess this is a pretty exciting development; I may be spending New Year's in Las Vegas. That's right, baby! I keep playing a certain scene from "Friends" over and over in my head:
Rachel: (Drunk) We need more drinks. (On the phone) Hello, Vegas. We need some more alcohol, and you know what, we need some more beers.... Haha, I forgot to dial. (Knock at the door)
Ross: That must be our alcohol and beers.
The girls are going to do New Year's right this year-- i.e. not in Abilene. Kimmy and Emily are planning a trip to London for Spring Break, but because Hardin-Simmons' Spring Break is completely different than every other school in the world, I cannot go. It's sad because traveling with those girls is such a blast, but Vegas sounds like it will definitely be doable! I have a vision of Kimmy, Emily, Laura Jack and me walking around, looking at all of the bright lights to the sounds of Wayne Newton impersonators, with a margarita in one hand and a pina colada in the other. Does it get much better? I am afraid not. Man, I am already excited, so I really hope it works out!
Mondays are nothing but work, school, and meetings. I will probably not be home until pretty late because The Brand goes to print tomorrow and I have to go over it with a fine tooth comb. Thank God for Chicken E sweet tea or I would never make it; they even have "bucket drinks" now, which I think must be targeted for college students that stay up late. It's an ingenius idea. Although, I am not sure that ingesting over 50 oz. of any drink is a good idea. Where the crap do you put it? When I get home tonight I am going to reward myself with a BBC, and I hope to finish Sex and the City season 6. It's getting so good! I can't believe it's over.
Old school lyrics I am enjoying right now:
The Background by Third Eye Blind
Everything is quiet, since you're not around
And I live in the numbness now, in the background.
I do the things we did before. I walk Haight Street to the store,
and they say where's that crazy girl? You don't get drunk on red wine,
and fight no more. I don't see you anymore, since the hospital.
The plans I make still have you in them, cause you come swimming into view.
And I'm hanging on your words like I always used to do.
The words they use so lightly, I only feel for you.
I only know because I carry you around, in the background.
Words they come and memories all repeat.
Lift your head while they change the hospital sheets.
I would never lie to you, no, I would never lie to you, no.
I felt you long after we were through, when we were through.
The plans I make still have you in them, cause you come swimming into view.
And I'm hanging on your words like I always used to do.
The words they use so lightly, I only feel for you.
I only know because I carry you around, in the background.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Eating barbecue with B list celebrities...
Friday afternoon my mother called me and told me Dr. Larry Fink, a professor of literature and my boss, had an extra ticket to the Boots and Books Luncheon at the Civic Center. I was not sure that I wanted to give up my Saturday sleeping in ritual, but I decided that I should go, as a career move if nothing else. In the literature world, you make the best connections at events such as this. The goal is to get your name out there, be social, and enjoy the free food.
I arrived at the door at noon, gave the my name, and searched for my table. Randomly, I ran into my ex-roommate and terrific high school friend, Becky. I believe Becky, her cousins, and I were the only people under the age of thirty there. I stood in line with Dr. Fink and his wife to get food-- barbecue, potatoes, iced tea...typical Texas entree-- and I was like a little kid in a candy store. There I was, thinking "What am I doing here?", when I turned around in line to see Naomi Shihab Nye (one of my all-time favorite poets) behind me. I tugged on Dr. Fink's sleeve and I said, "Naomi Nye is behind me, oh my gosh!", and he just laughed. It truly was like a red-carpet star sighting for me. Sandra Brown spoke; she has written more than 50 New York Times Bestsellers, and she is currently the #1 New York Times Bestselling Author. Walt McDonald was there. Novelist Stephen Harrigan talked about his book, "Gates of the Alamo". Charlie Waters, former Dallas Cowboy 1970-1982 and All-Star Football Player who played in five Super Bowls, also spoke about his book. It was a terrific luncheon and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Great food, awesome music (provided by the HSU Cowboy Band), and incredible company-- it's always refreshing to be surrounded by people who love and are passionate about the things you are; it creates some sort of spark. My friend Ashley would say, "It's magic!"
After the speakers finished, there was a book signing in a different room. I immediately got up from the table and walked into the bigger conference room, looking for the "lady in red"--aka Naomi Shihab Nye. I found her and approached her saying, "Mrs. Nye...I saw you last year when you read at Hardin-Simmons. I talked to you for a while after your reading about a children's series I am working on with a friend." After asking me how to spell my name, she remembered me. I told her that I had received several of her books for Christmas and I explained how much I enjoy a book she edited and compiled called "What Have You Lost". She seemed thrilled that I knew her work so well, and I told her I had talked to Dr. Bob Fink about contacting her with some questions on publication and children's literature. Then, she actually ripped up an envelope and wrote her e-mail address on it, telling me to contact her with any questions I may have along the way. Buh?! I was floored and a bit awe-struck, though I did try to hide it. I know, I am a nerd...a huge nerd.
I feel like the luncheon was well worth not sleeping past 9:30 for. I also met a publisher from Georgetown who is interested in looking at the manuscript for "I Want to be a Singer, but Mrs. Humphrey Says I Can't Sing." Excitement!
The rest of the day was pretty much a wash...nothing too exciting. I went to the library for the rest of the afternoon; I came home and did some editing; I went to a friend's birthday party and had several virgin pina colada's and one chocolate chip cookie; I came home and washed my dog; I talked to Michael and Danielle after they finished "Mean Girls"; I made everyone BBC's (see previous blog entry for recipe); I layed with Michael on the floor laughing at SNL, which in retrospect was not that funny; I decided it was a good idea to go to Whataburger at midnight; I slept long and hard. Today it's just homework and more homework and coffee with Rachel later. I leave you with a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye:
"Hidden"
If you place a fern
under a stone
the next day it will be
nearly invisible
as if the stone has
swallowed it.
If you tuck the name of a loved one
under your tongue too long
without speaking it
it becomes blood
sigh
the little sucked-in breath of air
hiding everywhere
beneath your words.
No one sees
the fuel that feeds you.
I arrived at the door at noon, gave the my name, and searched for my table. Randomly, I ran into my ex-roommate and terrific high school friend, Becky. I believe Becky, her cousins, and I were the only people under the age of thirty there. I stood in line with Dr. Fink and his wife to get food-- barbecue, potatoes, iced tea...typical Texas entree-- and I was like a little kid in a candy store. There I was, thinking "What am I doing here?", when I turned around in line to see Naomi Shihab Nye (one of my all-time favorite poets) behind me. I tugged on Dr. Fink's sleeve and I said, "Naomi Nye is behind me, oh my gosh!", and he just laughed. It truly was like a red-carpet star sighting for me. Sandra Brown spoke; she has written more than 50 New York Times Bestsellers, and she is currently the #1 New York Times Bestselling Author. Walt McDonald was there. Novelist Stephen Harrigan talked about his book, "Gates of the Alamo". Charlie Waters, former Dallas Cowboy 1970-1982 and All-Star Football Player who played in five Super Bowls, also spoke about his book. It was a terrific luncheon and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Great food, awesome music (provided by the HSU Cowboy Band), and incredible company-- it's always refreshing to be surrounded by people who love and are passionate about the things you are; it creates some sort of spark. My friend Ashley would say, "It's magic!"
After the speakers finished, there was a book signing in a different room. I immediately got up from the table and walked into the bigger conference room, looking for the "lady in red"--aka Naomi Shihab Nye. I found her and approached her saying, "Mrs. Nye...I saw you last year when you read at Hardin-Simmons. I talked to you for a while after your reading about a children's series I am working on with a friend." After asking me how to spell my name, she remembered me. I told her that I had received several of her books for Christmas and I explained how much I enjoy a book she edited and compiled called "What Have You Lost". She seemed thrilled that I knew her work so well, and I told her I had talked to Dr. Bob Fink about contacting her with some questions on publication and children's literature. Then, she actually ripped up an envelope and wrote her e-mail address on it, telling me to contact her with any questions I may have along the way. Buh?! I was floored and a bit awe-struck, though I did try to hide it. I know, I am a nerd...a huge nerd.
I feel like the luncheon was well worth not sleeping past 9:30 for. I also met a publisher from Georgetown who is interested in looking at the manuscript for "I Want to be a Singer, but Mrs. Humphrey Says I Can't Sing." Excitement!
The rest of the day was pretty much a wash...nothing too exciting. I went to the library for the rest of the afternoon; I came home and did some editing; I went to a friend's birthday party and had several virgin pina colada's and one chocolate chip cookie; I came home and washed my dog; I talked to Michael and Danielle after they finished "Mean Girls"; I made everyone BBC's (see previous blog entry for recipe); I layed with Michael on the floor laughing at SNL, which in retrospect was not that funny; I decided it was a good idea to go to Whataburger at midnight; I slept long and hard. Today it's just homework and more homework and coffee with Rachel later. I leave you with a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye:
"Hidden"
If you place a fern
under a stone
the next day it will be
nearly invisible
as if the stone has
swallowed it.
If you tuck the name of a loved one
under your tongue too long
without speaking it
it becomes blood
sigh
the little sucked-in breath of air
hiding everywhere
beneath your words.
No one sees
the fuel that feeds you.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
And that's the way this wheel keeps working now...
Last night a small group of us celebrated weekly "girls night" by going to Texas Roadhouse and eating way too much. We came back to the apartment, watched "Almost Famous", played cards, and experimented with mixed drinks-- one of which I am going to list below because it is sure to be a hit.
BBC's:
2 oz. of Bailey's Irish Cream
2 oz. of Cream of Coconut
1 oz. of Rum
1/2 of a Banana
Blend with ice until smoothe. You won't be sorry.
Obviously, by the title of this 'blog', I am currently listening to John Mayer. I love him, and I especially love the lyrics to the song 'Wheel'. I think I will post them later on. I have had it in my head all day; I think because of it's cyclical nature. Things in life truly are cyclical, at least I find them to be. I am sort of banking on the fact that they are.
I have recently been asking myself, "When did face-to-face communication become obsolete?" Initially I thought it began with the invention of emails and other communication devices, such as instant messenger. Then, this morning as I was taking a shower, a scene from "Legends of the Fall" came to mind. Tristan's letter: "Susannah, All we had is dead. As I am dead. Marry another." Should he have met with her face-to-face as he said the words that broke her heart? Yes. Any woman would agree. Of course, this scenario was semi-necessary, due to the fact that it was the early 1900's and Tristan was far away from home. I do believe, though, that even earlier than that, people used letters as a form of communication in order to express emotions and say things that they could never say if having to confront someone face-to-face.
Today, I believe that face-to-face communication is on it's way out. I think back to high school, where I would write emails to my boyfriend in order to express feelings I was too scared to tell him when we were alone. Somewhere there has to be a woman that was proposed to over the Internet...sad, isn't it? I think things like this will become the status quo. Even the phone is a problem. When did it become okay to make huge decisions that affect two parties in a half-hour long phone call? I was broken up with over the phone two summers ago, and that left me thinking...when did personal matters become so impersonal? On Sex and the City, Carrie was informed of her break-up with one boyfriend by the post-it he left behind. I mean, really...come on people! How hard is it to meet somewhere, no matter the time of day, and sit down and say, "Hey buddy...we need to talk"?
If it weren't for my stubborn curiosity and boredom, I would veto instant messenger all together. Recently I have fallen prey to the many downfalls that are AIM. First of all, can you hear a person's tone? No. Inflection? No. Can you see their eyes? Read their body language? No. Can you see what they are doing? No. Do you know what they are actually saying about you or vice versa? Can you defend yourself? No. If things get really rough in a face-to-face conversation, a person must muddle through it and usually some middle ground is found. On IM you can just sign off, or better yet, block them. This is not so in real life. Instant messenger is teaching people that you can say whatever is on your mind and ignore the consequences. Change your screen name, block your buddies, don't even sign on...but in the real world, you have to face an actual person. I have learned several lessons from my recent IM mistakes; maybe you can learn from them: 1- Never say anything you wouldn't or couldn't say to someones face. 2- Never use profanity, because although it may come out of deep hurt, it will seem as though you are irate. They may invision you hurling your computer through a second-story window, when really you could be sitting in front of the computer crying. 3- Never have any conversations of substance over a computer.It's just ri-damn-diculous. Drive across town at 3:30am if need be, but just sign off if the conversation should be had face-to-face, after scheduling a meeting time of course. You may save your relationships if you stick to these guidelines. I wish I had had them earlier in the week.
Okay, I have mass amounts of homework to do, so I am off. I leave you with John Mayer:
People have the right to fly
And when it gets compromised
Their hearts say "Move along"
Their minds say "Gotcha heart"
Let's move it along
And airports
See it all the time
When someone's last goodbye
Blends in with someone's sigh
Cause someone's coming home
In hand a single rose
And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now
And I won't be the last
No I won't be the last,
To love her
And you can't build a house of leaves
And live like it's an evergreen
It's just a season thing
It's just this thing that seasons do
And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now
And you won't be the first
No you won't be the first
To love me
You can find me, if you ever want again
I'll be around the bend
I'll be around the bend
And if you never stop when you wave goodbye
You just might find if you give it time
You will wave hello again
You just might wave hello again
And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now
I believe that my life's gonna see
The love I give
Return to me
BBC's:
2 oz. of Bailey's Irish Cream
2 oz. of Cream of Coconut
1 oz. of Rum
1/2 of a Banana
Blend with ice until smoothe. You won't be sorry.
Obviously, by the title of this 'blog', I am currently listening to John Mayer. I love him, and I especially love the lyrics to the song 'Wheel'. I think I will post them later on. I have had it in my head all day; I think because of it's cyclical nature. Things in life truly are cyclical, at least I find them to be. I am sort of banking on the fact that they are.
I have recently been asking myself, "When did face-to-face communication become obsolete?" Initially I thought it began with the invention of emails and other communication devices, such as instant messenger. Then, this morning as I was taking a shower, a scene from "Legends of the Fall" came to mind. Tristan's letter: "Susannah, All we had is dead. As I am dead. Marry another." Should he have met with her face-to-face as he said the words that broke her heart? Yes. Any woman would agree. Of course, this scenario was semi-necessary, due to the fact that it was the early 1900's and Tristan was far away from home. I do believe, though, that even earlier than that, people used letters as a form of communication in order to express emotions and say things that they could never say if having to confront someone face-to-face.
Today, I believe that face-to-face communication is on it's way out. I think back to high school, where I would write emails to my boyfriend in order to express feelings I was too scared to tell him when we were alone. Somewhere there has to be a woman that was proposed to over the Internet...sad, isn't it? I think things like this will become the status quo. Even the phone is a problem. When did it become okay to make huge decisions that affect two parties in a half-hour long phone call? I was broken up with over the phone two summers ago, and that left me thinking...when did personal matters become so impersonal? On Sex and the City, Carrie was informed of her break-up with one boyfriend by the post-it he left behind. I mean, really...come on people! How hard is it to meet somewhere, no matter the time of day, and sit down and say, "Hey buddy...we need to talk"?
If it weren't for my stubborn curiosity and boredom, I would veto instant messenger all together. Recently I have fallen prey to the many downfalls that are AIM. First of all, can you hear a person's tone? No. Inflection? No. Can you see their eyes? Read their body language? No. Can you see what they are doing? No. Do you know what they are actually saying about you or vice versa? Can you defend yourself? No. If things get really rough in a face-to-face conversation, a person must muddle through it and usually some middle ground is found. On IM you can just sign off, or better yet, block them. This is not so in real life. Instant messenger is teaching people that you can say whatever is on your mind and ignore the consequences. Change your screen name, block your buddies, don't even sign on...but in the real world, you have to face an actual person. I have learned several lessons from my recent IM mistakes; maybe you can learn from them: 1- Never say anything you wouldn't or couldn't say to someones face. 2- Never use profanity, because although it may come out of deep hurt, it will seem as though you are irate. They may invision you hurling your computer through a second-story window, when really you could be sitting in front of the computer crying. 3- Never have any conversations of substance over a computer.It's just ri-damn-diculous. Drive across town at 3:30am if need be, but just sign off if the conversation should be had face-to-face, after scheduling a meeting time of course. You may save your relationships if you stick to these guidelines. I wish I had had them earlier in the week.
Okay, I have mass amounts of homework to do, so I am off. I leave you with John Mayer:
People have the right to fly
And when it gets compromised
Their hearts say "Move along"
Their minds say "Gotcha heart"
Let's move it along
And airports
See it all the time
When someone's last goodbye
Blends in with someone's sigh
Cause someone's coming home
In hand a single rose
And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now
And I won't be the last
No I won't be the last,
To love her
And you can't build a house of leaves
And live like it's an evergreen
It's just a season thing
It's just this thing that seasons do
And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now
And you won't be the first
No you won't be the first
To love me
You can find me, if you ever want again
I'll be around the bend
I'll be around the bend
And if you never stop when you wave goodbye
You just might find if you give it time
You will wave hello again
You just might wave hello again
And that's the way this wheel keeps working now
That's the way this wheel keeps working now
I believe that my life's gonna see
The love I give
Return to me
Friday, September 24, 2004
Your heart won't return anyone, anything, anyhow...
Guess what happens on Tuesday...Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind comes out on DVD. I most assuredly will be having a viewing party next weekend, complete with canadian bacon and pineapple pizza.
I want to talk to you about my duck theory. I am sure that there have been periods of time in my life where I have gone weeks, months even, without seeing a duck. Wednesday it seemed that the latter part of my day revolved around ducks. I remember looking at the ground and saying, "Look at all the duck dander!" These ducks had a profound affect on the environment around me; they were everywhere. They seemed to elevate emotions, causing laughter and fear, practically in the same moment. I recall being scared as the ducks swarmed me, exclaiming, "It's like feeding homeless people, only it's cheaper and they're ducks." They came in droves, straight from the water to me. I couldn't rip the bread off fast enough; one duck was knocking me around with his bill. I have never seen ducks become angry; I feel as though this should have been a forboding symbol.
Being a student of literature, I look for symbolism and foreshadowing in all things. I know you are saying, Melia...what is the point of all of this duck nonsense? I say, wait a minute...it is coming. Think about authors such as Edgar Allen Poe and Charles Dickens; their books are covered in foreshadowing. These moments, looking back, are steeped in foreshadowing. In literature, the raven is a mark for death or gloom of some sort. It is perfect because the creature is black, and I would imagine, somewhat intimidating. My current symbol of forthcoming disaster is the duck. It's the only common denominator in a day that ended horribly; the only thing that made it different than any other Wednesday when I skip class and go to the park. Wait, maybe (if I believed in karma) I am getting what was coming to me all along for being such a selfish slacker.
Okay, so for the incident that ties together all things talked about. Later that night, after a nice conversation with a great guy over coffee, we walked, laughing, to the pond. We had an idea that was sure to win many laughs-- sneaking a duck upstairs and surprising the occupants of a certain apartment with a quacking present. We got to the pond and attempted to catch one of these feather-covered, and not to mention --extremely fast, ducks. After running around for about ten minutes, we gave up on the mission and headed back across campus. Now, I know this sounds like a good time, and really...it was. However, on this night I had chosen to wear extremely uncomfortable open-toed sandals. After walking from the campus apartments to the coffee shop and then running around the pond like a crazy person, I had worn a huge blister on my right foot. Okay, now you are asking...why is this important? Well, here is the link.
In high school I read a poem called "Last Times", which talked about how a person never knows when they are doing something for the final time. As for me, I remember the last time I dropped Chris off at the airport, but I didn't know it would be the last time I would see him. I am sure there was a last time I hugged my grandfather or rode my bike in the driveway of our old house, but we don't relish those moments because they seem infinite. I know I do not know what is going to happen later this afternoon, let alone in the days to come, but to me...the last times I spent with two people I love revolved around those damn ducks. Things happen without reason or understanding, sometimes people come around, sometimes they don't. Maybe I will hate ducks forever because they will remind me of Wednesday. Maybe when my sneaker stops pressing against the blister I will forget that day, those memories, and move on...giving those sandals to Goodwill.
I want to talk to you about my duck theory. I am sure that there have been periods of time in my life where I have gone weeks, months even, without seeing a duck. Wednesday it seemed that the latter part of my day revolved around ducks. I remember looking at the ground and saying, "Look at all the duck dander!" These ducks had a profound affect on the environment around me; they were everywhere. They seemed to elevate emotions, causing laughter and fear, practically in the same moment. I recall being scared as the ducks swarmed me, exclaiming, "It's like feeding homeless people, only it's cheaper and they're ducks." They came in droves, straight from the water to me. I couldn't rip the bread off fast enough; one duck was knocking me around with his bill. I have never seen ducks become angry; I feel as though this should have been a forboding symbol.
Being a student of literature, I look for symbolism and foreshadowing in all things. I know you are saying, Melia...what is the point of all of this duck nonsense? I say, wait a minute...it is coming. Think about authors such as Edgar Allen Poe and Charles Dickens; their books are covered in foreshadowing. These moments, looking back, are steeped in foreshadowing. In literature, the raven is a mark for death or gloom of some sort. It is perfect because the creature is black, and I would imagine, somewhat intimidating. My current symbol of forthcoming disaster is the duck. It's the only common denominator in a day that ended horribly; the only thing that made it different than any other Wednesday when I skip class and go to the park. Wait, maybe (if I believed in karma) I am getting what was coming to me all along for being such a selfish slacker.
Okay, so for the incident that ties together all things talked about. Later that night, after a nice conversation with a great guy over coffee, we walked, laughing, to the pond. We had an idea that was sure to win many laughs-- sneaking a duck upstairs and surprising the occupants of a certain apartment with a quacking present. We got to the pond and attempted to catch one of these feather-covered, and not to mention --extremely fast, ducks. After running around for about ten minutes, we gave up on the mission and headed back across campus. Now, I know this sounds like a good time, and really...it was. However, on this night I had chosen to wear extremely uncomfortable open-toed sandals. After walking from the campus apartments to the coffee shop and then running around the pond like a crazy person, I had worn a huge blister on my right foot. Okay, now you are asking...why is this important? Well, here is the link.
In high school I read a poem called "Last Times", which talked about how a person never knows when they are doing something for the final time. As for me, I remember the last time I dropped Chris off at the airport, but I didn't know it would be the last time I would see him. I am sure there was a last time I hugged my grandfather or rode my bike in the driveway of our old house, but we don't relish those moments because they seem infinite. I know I do not know what is going to happen later this afternoon, let alone in the days to come, but to me...the last times I spent with two people I love revolved around those damn ducks. Things happen without reason or understanding, sometimes people come around, sometimes they don't. Maybe I will hate ducks forever because they will remind me of Wednesday. Maybe when my sneaker stops pressing against the blister I will forget that day, those memories, and move on...giving those sandals to Goodwill.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
It's not hard to fall...when you float like a cannonball.
I have had Damien Rice lyrics stuck in my head all afternoon. Maybe in posting them, by releasing them out into this technological void, I will be able to clear my mind. I will include them at the end of this post.
Today has been filled with much melodrama and too many words. It has me thinking about the Chaos Theory, and the more I think, the more absolute sense it makes-- finding patterns and answers in even the most obscure data. I suppose many days are like that. As far as my personal life, I am really weighing the idea of honesty. It is a gift and a curse I suppose. I have learned that you can be too honest, and that comes back to haunt you and it causes massive amounts of needless destruction in its wake. I guess you can take anything to the nth degree: loyalty, friendship, love, compassion, honesty, devotion...pretty much any abstract concept. I am trying to decipher the line. I know it is there, but it seems like I don't know I have crossed it until it's too late. When I do cross any sort of proverbial line, my first instinct is to act. Some create distance; I act. I am trying to fight my instincts and sit on my hands for a bit. This is pressing my limits, but I think it is causing me to grow. Maybe we should all fight our instincts on something and go the opposite direction for once. Maybe it will open doors I have never been able to see, or if not a door, possibly a small window. If you have any thoughts on this, I would appreciate it...as long as you don't get too existential/philosophical on me.
As far as academics is concerned, I have reached a new level of apathy in my studies. Not only do I not care, but I put things off until the last second. I have missed classes this week. I have missed work. I am becoming a post-grad bum. If anyone sees me with my pockets hanging out, glasses on crooked, hair so disheveled that you can't even see my eyes, please pull me aside and remind me that I need to take school seriously. I will probably make some jack-ass comment and walk away laughing, but I need the reminder...badly. I don't want to be at Hardin-Simmons forever. Right now I am trying to work out the problems I have run into with my autobiography for Dr. Thompson's class. I do believe there is such thing as "too experimental" when it comes to writing; especially writing that will be read aloud to a class. My biggest hurdle thus far is in dividing the persona's physical self from her mental dialogue. I am wanting to work with stream-of-consciousness, bringing in many of Woolf's techniques from "Mrs. Dalloway". Any ideas?
Okay, well. I have run out of things to say for the time being. Tonight it is studying and Sex and the City season six for me and Danielle. I think I want Chinese for dinner. Food is one arena in which I show no apathy.
Now, for Mr. Rice:
There’s still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
There’s still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
It’s still a little hard to say what's going on
There’s still a little bit of your ghost your witness
There’s still a little bit of your face i haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day
That i can’t say what's going on
Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life, it taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall when you float like a cannonball
There’s still a little bit of your song in my ear
There’s still a little bit of your words I long to hear
You step a little closer to me
So close that I can't see what's going on
Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall when you float like a cannonball.
Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage, teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall and I don't wanna scare her
It's not hard to fall and I don't wanna lose
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know
Today has been filled with much melodrama and too many words. It has me thinking about the Chaos Theory, and the more I think, the more absolute sense it makes-- finding patterns and answers in even the most obscure data. I suppose many days are like that. As far as my personal life, I am really weighing the idea of honesty. It is a gift and a curse I suppose. I have learned that you can be too honest, and that comes back to haunt you and it causes massive amounts of needless destruction in its wake. I guess you can take anything to the nth degree: loyalty, friendship, love, compassion, honesty, devotion...pretty much any abstract concept. I am trying to decipher the line. I know it is there, but it seems like I don't know I have crossed it until it's too late. When I do cross any sort of proverbial line, my first instinct is to act. Some create distance; I act. I am trying to fight my instincts and sit on my hands for a bit. This is pressing my limits, but I think it is causing me to grow. Maybe we should all fight our instincts on something and go the opposite direction for once. Maybe it will open doors I have never been able to see, or if not a door, possibly a small window. If you have any thoughts on this, I would appreciate it...as long as you don't get too existential/philosophical on me.
As far as academics is concerned, I have reached a new level of apathy in my studies. Not only do I not care, but I put things off until the last second. I have missed classes this week. I have missed work. I am becoming a post-grad bum. If anyone sees me with my pockets hanging out, glasses on crooked, hair so disheveled that you can't even see my eyes, please pull me aside and remind me that I need to take school seriously. I will probably make some jack-ass comment and walk away laughing, but I need the reminder...badly. I don't want to be at Hardin-Simmons forever. Right now I am trying to work out the problems I have run into with my autobiography for Dr. Thompson's class. I do believe there is such thing as "too experimental" when it comes to writing; especially writing that will be read aloud to a class. My biggest hurdle thus far is in dividing the persona's physical self from her mental dialogue. I am wanting to work with stream-of-consciousness, bringing in many of Woolf's techniques from "Mrs. Dalloway". Any ideas?
Okay, well. I have run out of things to say for the time being. Tonight it is studying and Sex and the City season six for me and Danielle. I think I want Chinese for dinner. Food is one arena in which I show no apathy.
Now, for Mr. Rice:
There’s still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
There’s still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
It’s still a little hard to say what's going on
There’s still a little bit of your ghost your witness
There’s still a little bit of your face i haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day
That i can’t say what's going on
Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life, it taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall when you float like a cannonball
There’s still a little bit of your song in my ear
There’s still a little bit of your words I long to hear
You step a little closer to me
So close that I can't see what's going on
Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall when you float like a cannonball.
Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage, teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall and I don't wanna scare her
It's not hard to fall and I don't wanna lose
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
