I challenge you to a...
quiz: http://connect.tickle.com/test.html?id=QfPZCRWYmZegI9qw&
i apologize to my friends on whose quizzes i performed poorly. or should you feel bad for not being close enough to me?
Monday, March 22
i was talking to a friend of mine, and he brought up a piece that i wrote. he still has a copy of it because he likes it, so i thought that i would post it. if you don't like it, well that sucks for you, having wasted your time and all...
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As I was born, and I as I will die, I am alone.
When you're sad, it seems that the stars don't shine as brightly, time doesn't pass as quickly, roses don't smell as pretty, the clouds aren't as graceful, colors aren't as intense, and you feel all of this alone, no matter what. You are surrounded by people but you're all alone, because the stars don't sparkle in your heart, your heart is alone, and will be, until something is powerful enough to spark a change.
I might not know much in life, in fact, I know that I don't. If I know one thing, I know that I don't know much. This world is circling around me, well not me, some axis in the universe, and I am just one small weak being on it. In the scheme of things, I'm nothing. I am nothing, you are nothing, we are nothing. Life is a process of learning, always learning. Learning to what end? There is no end.
We learn that we are born, we learn that we will die, and we learn how to live in between. Everyone chooses a different way to live, and that's their own perrogative. Who am I to try and influence that decision, I'm nothing, remember? So why do I try? I think that it's an infinite search for meaning, if I can have an impact on someone else, then I have a reason that I'm here, if I can impact someone, maybe I'm not nothing, maybe I'm something.
From the moment that we are born, we are dying. Living is a process of dying. A little depressing isn't it? The only thing that is ever guaranteed in life is death. Everything else is a creation of our own power. We fabricate and cause the situations that happen in our lives. Everything is our own fault. All that I do is my choice, and my fault, I deserve what I get, whether positive or negative. I make my choices, and I accept my consequences, however unwilling I may be.
Though I may not be able to change someone else, I can observe. Observing other people is interesting. I have this craving to see how people think, what makes them tick, how can I figure this out as to other people, when I can't even figure out myself? As humans we always seem to be in a constant search for meaning. Who knows what the key to life is? I don't think that there is one single solution, how can there be, everybody is different, so how could one thing work for everyone? It can't, there is no miracle solution to life. What is life?
Merriam-Webster's dictionary:
life:1 a : the quality that distinguishes a vital and functional being from a dead body b : a principle or force that is considered to underlie the distinctive quality of animate beings; an organismic state characterized by capacity for metabolism, growth, reaction to stimuli, and reproduction
2 a : the sequence of physical and mental experiences that make up the existence of an individual b : one or more aspects of the process of living [sex life of the frog]
4: spiritual existence transcending physical death
5 a : the period from birth to death b : a specific phase of earthly existence [adult life] c : the period from an event until death [a judge appointed for life] d : a sentence of imprisonment for the remainder of a convict's life
6 : a way or manner of living
8 : a vital or living being; [many lives were lost in the disaster]
9 : an animating and shaping force or principle
10 : spirit [there was no life in her dancing]
11 : the form or pattern of something existing in reality [painted from life]
12 : the period of duration, usefulness, or popularity of something [the expected life of flashlight batteries]
13 : the period of existence (as of a subatomic particle)
14 : a property (as resilience or elasticity) of an inanimate substance or object resembling the animate quality of a living being
15 : living beings (as of a particular kind or environment) [forest life]
16 a : human activities b : animate activity and movement [stirrings of life] c : the activities of a given sphere, area, or time [the political life of the country]
17 : one providing interest and vigor [life of the party]
How can one word mean so many things? For the point of my mental state, I am using definition number 5a, the period from birth to death. We are all given life, form whom or what, I couldn't tell you, all I know is that it was given to us. And what do we do with our lives? We relate. In everything that we do and do not do, we relate to people, animals, even inanimate object, we relate. All life is is interactions with these beings and objects. And how do we choose to do this? I can only answer that question for myself.
I try to please everyone, to make everyone happy. I try to make all the people that surround me happy, with their lives, and with me, but I don't put the same effort towards myself. Always tring to cheer people up, making sure that they aren't sad, that's what I do. But in this process, do I lose myself? I think that I do. I think that trying to cater to everyone's needs, I forget who I am, what I am, whatever that may be. Always a smile on my face. That's me. But there isn't always a smile on the inside.
To please everyone else, my friends as well as strangers, I put on this front, a person that I'm not. I don't have to live with these people for as long as I live, but I can't get rid of me. I won't go away, so why compromise myself to spare them? Because I am so afraid of hurting someone's feelings. I'll take it for the team, I'd rather see myself hurt than anyone else. At least with me I can pretend that it doesn't bother me. I can push my feelings to the corner of my heart, and ignore them. But they don't stay there.
Feelings and emotions come out through art, through music, through theater, through painting, through dance, through photography, through writing. All things that will be judged by other people. Which is why I am so afraid to express emotion, I don't want to be judged, I don't want people to pick apart my creation. Everything that I do is entirely mine, I put my heart and soul, my passion into what I do, and am happy with the end result. Why should I let someone take that away from me? Yes, I'm proud of what I do, I have confidence in what I do, that is until I let someone else in on my secret. When they see what I choose ot spend my time, my life doing, I have opened up to them. I just put my feelings in the air for them to be shot down, as they usually are.
People can be so cruel. I wonder sometimes if they realize how much effect, impact that they can have on other people. All it takes is one negative comment to ruin something forever. Every creation is sacred, to someone, and that negative thought kills it, the creation is dead, the idea is dead, the joy is dead, the hope is dead.
It hurts, when my hope, my vitality, is stripped from me. But in the end, I learned something. Life is learning, and so though I failed, I succeeded. I learned not to share myself with other people, because if I keep to myself, they can not hurt me, nor my hope. I can keep my hope, and my confidence, my creation, it's mine, and forever will be. But I then am alone, I am the only one that can partake of my creation. As I was born, and I as I will die, I am alone.
I feel like I am in a wide open field, that is surrounded by trees and mountains that I can never reach. There is a river, and flowers, the most beautiful flowers that anyone could imagine, at night the stars shine like wonderous flames in the sky, during the day the clouds dance above my head, everything is in vivid colors, brighter than fathomable, and the sun beats down with gloriously warm rays on my skin. I am happy. And then, I am alone, and everything changes. The light fades in my eyes and my heart, and I am lost. Where do I go from here? Now I am still, alone in the darkness, vulnerable to everything. All I have is my thoughts, myself, that's all that I will ever have, no matter what I try to achieve.
In all my life, everything I do will be destroyed. In the end all that I will have is me, and yet, I don't take care of myself, and my feelings. I spend my time and energy worrying about everybody else and their feelings. I can't change them, the change I would have in mind probably isn't right anyhow, I'm probably not right anyhow. But I can't make an impact on others, I can't change things, I am nothing, and can do nothing more than me, which is what I'm afraid of.
So I will not share what or who I am, for I will be destroyed, crushed by those who don't agree with me. Those who don't understand me will try to tear me apart at the seams. It will work, I will be sad, in the darkness, alone. My heart and soul be still, I will be alone forever.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As I was born, and I as I will die, I am alone.
When you're sad, it seems that the stars don't shine as brightly, time doesn't pass as quickly, roses don't smell as pretty, the clouds aren't as graceful, colors aren't as intense, and you feel all of this alone, no matter what. You are surrounded by people but you're all alone, because the stars don't sparkle in your heart, your heart is alone, and will be, until something is powerful enough to spark a change.
I might not know much in life, in fact, I know that I don't. If I know one thing, I know that I don't know much. This world is circling around me, well not me, some axis in the universe, and I am just one small weak being on it. In the scheme of things, I'm nothing. I am nothing, you are nothing, we are nothing. Life is a process of learning, always learning. Learning to what end? There is no end.
We learn that we are born, we learn that we will die, and we learn how to live in between. Everyone chooses a different way to live, and that's their own perrogative. Who am I to try and influence that decision, I'm nothing, remember? So why do I try? I think that it's an infinite search for meaning, if I can have an impact on someone else, then I have a reason that I'm here, if I can impact someone, maybe I'm not nothing, maybe I'm something.
From the moment that we are born, we are dying. Living is a process of dying. A little depressing isn't it? The only thing that is ever guaranteed in life is death. Everything else is a creation of our own power. We fabricate and cause the situations that happen in our lives. Everything is our own fault. All that I do is my choice, and my fault, I deserve what I get, whether positive or negative. I make my choices, and I accept my consequences, however unwilling I may be.
Though I may not be able to change someone else, I can observe. Observing other people is interesting. I have this craving to see how people think, what makes them tick, how can I figure this out as to other people, when I can't even figure out myself? As humans we always seem to be in a constant search for meaning. Who knows what the key to life is? I don't think that there is one single solution, how can there be, everybody is different, so how could one thing work for everyone? It can't, there is no miracle solution to life. What is life?
Merriam-Webster's dictionary:
life:1 a : the quality that distinguishes a vital and functional being from a dead body b : a principle or force that is considered to underlie the distinctive quality of animate beings; an organismic state characterized by capacity for metabolism, growth, reaction to stimuli, and reproduction
2 a : the sequence of physical and mental experiences that make up the existence of an individual b : one or more aspects of the process of living [sex life of the frog]
4: spiritual existence transcending physical death
5 a : the period from birth to death b : a specific phase of earthly existence [adult life] c : the period from an event until death [a judge appointed for life] d : a sentence of imprisonment for the remainder of a convict's life
6 : a way or manner of living
8 : a vital or living being; [many lives were lost in the disaster]
9 : an animating and shaping force or principle
10 : spirit [there was no life in her dancing]
11 : the form or pattern of something existing in reality [painted from life]
12 : the period of duration, usefulness, or popularity of something [the expected life of flashlight batteries]
13 : the period of existence (as of a subatomic particle)
14 : a property (as resilience or elasticity) of an inanimate substance or object resembling the animate quality of a living being
15 : living beings (as of a particular kind or environment) [forest life]
16 a : human activities b : animate activity and movement [stirrings of life] c : the activities of a given sphere, area, or time [the political life of the country]
17 : one providing interest and vigor [life of the party]
How can one word mean so many things? For the point of my mental state, I am using definition number 5a, the period from birth to death. We are all given life, form whom or what, I couldn't tell you, all I know is that it was given to us. And what do we do with our lives? We relate. In everything that we do and do not do, we relate to people, animals, even inanimate object, we relate. All life is is interactions with these beings and objects. And how do we choose to do this? I can only answer that question for myself.
I try to please everyone, to make everyone happy. I try to make all the people that surround me happy, with their lives, and with me, but I don't put the same effort towards myself. Always tring to cheer people up, making sure that they aren't sad, that's what I do. But in this process, do I lose myself? I think that I do. I think that trying to cater to everyone's needs, I forget who I am, what I am, whatever that may be. Always a smile on my face. That's me. But there isn't always a smile on the inside.
To please everyone else, my friends as well as strangers, I put on this front, a person that I'm not. I don't have to live with these people for as long as I live, but I can't get rid of me. I won't go away, so why compromise myself to spare them? Because I am so afraid of hurting someone's feelings. I'll take it for the team, I'd rather see myself hurt than anyone else. At least with me I can pretend that it doesn't bother me. I can push my feelings to the corner of my heart, and ignore them. But they don't stay there.
Feelings and emotions come out through art, through music, through theater, through painting, through dance, through photography, through writing. All things that will be judged by other people. Which is why I am so afraid to express emotion, I don't want to be judged, I don't want people to pick apart my creation. Everything that I do is entirely mine, I put my heart and soul, my passion into what I do, and am happy with the end result. Why should I let someone take that away from me? Yes, I'm proud of what I do, I have confidence in what I do, that is until I let someone else in on my secret. When they see what I choose ot spend my time, my life doing, I have opened up to them. I just put my feelings in the air for them to be shot down, as they usually are.
People can be so cruel. I wonder sometimes if they realize how much effect, impact that they can have on other people. All it takes is one negative comment to ruin something forever. Every creation is sacred, to someone, and that negative thought kills it, the creation is dead, the idea is dead, the joy is dead, the hope is dead.
It hurts, when my hope, my vitality, is stripped from me. But in the end, I learned something. Life is learning, and so though I failed, I succeeded. I learned not to share myself with other people, because if I keep to myself, they can not hurt me, nor my hope. I can keep my hope, and my confidence, my creation, it's mine, and forever will be. But I then am alone, I am the only one that can partake of my creation. As I was born, and I as I will die, I am alone.
I feel like I am in a wide open field, that is surrounded by trees and mountains that I can never reach. There is a river, and flowers, the most beautiful flowers that anyone could imagine, at night the stars shine like wonderous flames in the sky, during the day the clouds dance above my head, everything is in vivid colors, brighter than fathomable, and the sun beats down with gloriously warm rays on my skin. I am happy. And then, I am alone, and everything changes. The light fades in my eyes and my heart, and I am lost. Where do I go from here? Now I am still, alone in the darkness, vulnerable to everything. All I have is my thoughts, myself, that's all that I will ever have, no matter what I try to achieve.
In all my life, everything I do will be destroyed. In the end all that I will have is me, and yet, I don't take care of myself, and my feelings. I spend my time and energy worrying about everybody else and their feelings. I can't change them, the change I would have in mind probably isn't right anyhow, I'm probably not right anyhow. But I can't make an impact on others, I can't change things, I am nothing, and can do nothing more than me, which is what I'm afraid of.
So I will not share what or who I am, for I will be destroyed, crushed by those who don't agree with me. Those who don't understand me will try to tear me apart at the seams. It will work, I will be sad, in the darkness, alone. My heart and soul be still, I will be alone forever.
Sunday, March 21
so i started exploring that website. and i came upon the swear word quiz
your fuck.
What swear word are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
again, pretty fitting.
strange.
your fuck.
What swear word are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
again, pretty fitting.
strange.
i saw this on joey's, so figured that i'd do it. fitting.
you are the cute but psycho happy bunny. You
adorable, but a little out there. It's alright,
you might not have it all, but there are worse
which happy bunny are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
you are the cute but psycho happy bunny. You
adorable, but a little out there. It's alright,
you might not have it all, but there are worse
which happy bunny are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Wednesday, March 17
Back from Mexico. With a boatload of stories. But the most interesting one, begins Saturday...
We go to this club called Baja Cantina. It's $15, all you can drink, and PACKED. This night it was just the girls, so there were 5 of us. We walked around, partied, met people, danced, etc. Mind you it was like a mini high school reunion for anyone who attended high school in AZ. The girls from Prescott ran into their old friends. Crazy. So we start heading out, and I get separated from the group. So I continue to make my way through the crowd, walking in circles, trying to find the girls. This was a fruitless effort because they were walking around the rest of the strip looking for me, at Manny's, Pink Cadillac, etc. So needless to say, I did not find them. Eventually, I figure I should head back to my car, maybe they are there.
When I get back to my car is when I realize that I no longer have my purse. Fuck. It contained my car keys. So luckily, my back hatch was unlocked so I sat down in the back of my truck trying to concoct a plan. I am FREEZING cold at this point, so I am shaking, crying a little (that's what I do when I freak out, cry), and planning. All of the sudden I hear at a distance, "Jessica, there she is." All of the girls at this point had gone back to our condos. One of the Prescott girls, also named Jessica, had one of her friends, who was also looking for his buddy, drive her around to try to find me. He had to continue looking, so the scene now bears two Jessicas, sitting in the back of my truck, scheming. We decide to go back to Baja, to see if a purse had been turned in. The guy in the office said that he saw a purse, red, small, described exactly like mine, but he just didn't know where they had put it. He told me to come back in the morning and the people then would be able to help me better. We took a taxi home.
Sunday...
The girls got up before I did to check on my purse and go get my car. I wake up to Stephanie saying, "Jess, your truck is gone." Ok, I'm up. What do you mean it's gone? Gone? So I got up, and we went back to Baja (for the third time now) to ask about my purse. The guy said it wasn't there, but as we asked him, the two maids in the office looked at each other conspicuously. In my mind, they took it.
Which on a side note, I don't really care too much about my purse or its contents. All I wanted back were my keys, the film in my camera, and the knife that my dad gave me. They can have my money, my camera, my purse (I have plenty), my ID (if that will do them any good). The things that I want back are of the least value, with exception of the knife, to whoever got them. Back to Sunday.
So we leave Baja, and drive over to where my truck was parked to see if maybe the owner of the property had had it towed. He was an American, painting a door, and a real nice fellow. He said it wasn't him, but we should go to the police station, whether it was towed or stolen, and directed us there. So we go to the police station. arriving at 11:00 a.m. It was pretty cool because we got to hear all of these stories from people bailing their friends out. But I go in and talk to the first guy who I need to speak with. He asked me if I had a '98 white Jeep Cherokee. I said it was a '99, but yeah. Well, apparently what happened was someone came to the police making a claim of a hit and run by a white Cherokee with AZ plates. Which obviously is mine, because I own the only car of such description. Assuming that I was the responsible party, my truck was impounded. At about 3:30 they finally were writing out my papers to get my truck out of the impound. The "judge" looked up at me and said (in Spanish), that'll be $50. $50, for what? Because you assumed incorrectly and wasted my day? Hell no. I told her that I did nothing wrong, so there is no reason that I should pay $50.
This caused one of the many little spats between Steph and I, because as I came out of the "judge's" office to go talk to the other guy about not paying, she asked what was going on. I told her that they wanted me to pay, and I had to go talk to the first guy. She said, "Jessica, it's an impound fee, just pay it." My response was, "Steph, I didn't do anything wrong, their system is fucked up, and I am not going to contribute to it." She was getting ancy because we all had been there so long. "How long is it going to take?" "I don't know, but I'm not going to be a part of their corruption. No one is keeping you here. If you don't want to wait, go." And I walked away.
I went and found the first man. He came back to the judge's office, and I told him that I didn't understand why I would have to pay, I hadn't wronged anyone. He said I did not have to pay. So they gave me my papers to go to the impound to get my registration to come back and get my papers to go to the impound and get my car. Whew, 4 and 1/2 hours later, we have gotten a piece of paper.
Now here comes the next problem. My purse is gone, my keys are gone. So we have to find a locksmith. But there are no phones ANYwhere. Seriously. We dropped Steph and two of the triplets off back at the condo, so they wouldn't have to deal with it. And so Steph and I wouldn't leave hating each other. So Bridget and I continued on our adventure for a locksmith. Everyone knew where one was, and sent us all around town. They were all closed, but had a phone number available. Too bad we couldn't call them. So we ended up at Cyndi's Beach House Rentals, and I asked the guys at the counter for any direction they could give us. They were WAY nice. They took the number from us and offered to call the guys for us, so I wouldn't have to be worried about my Spanish. The locksmith comes, we get my car, we get back to the condos, and it is 7:00 p.m.
Did I mention that I was dehydrated the whole day? So as soon as we got back, I found myself bolting in to the restroom, to relieve myself. I hate throwing up. But I did feel better, so I suppose that it was for the best.
In summary, I refused to pay for their fucked up system, and I came out on top. I have had my fill of Mexico for a while.
We go to this club called Baja Cantina. It's $15, all you can drink, and PACKED. This night it was just the girls, so there were 5 of us. We walked around, partied, met people, danced, etc. Mind you it was like a mini high school reunion for anyone who attended high school in AZ. The girls from Prescott ran into their old friends. Crazy. So we start heading out, and I get separated from the group. So I continue to make my way through the crowd, walking in circles, trying to find the girls. This was a fruitless effort because they were walking around the rest of the strip looking for me, at Manny's, Pink Cadillac, etc. So needless to say, I did not find them. Eventually, I figure I should head back to my car, maybe they are there.
When I get back to my car is when I realize that I no longer have my purse. Fuck. It contained my car keys. So luckily, my back hatch was unlocked so I sat down in the back of my truck trying to concoct a plan. I am FREEZING cold at this point, so I am shaking, crying a little (that's what I do when I freak out, cry), and planning. All of the sudden I hear at a distance, "Jessica, there she is." All of the girls at this point had gone back to our condos. One of the Prescott girls, also named Jessica, had one of her friends, who was also looking for his buddy, drive her around to try to find me. He had to continue looking, so the scene now bears two Jessicas, sitting in the back of my truck, scheming. We decide to go back to Baja, to see if a purse had been turned in. The guy in the office said that he saw a purse, red, small, described exactly like mine, but he just didn't know where they had put it. He told me to come back in the morning and the people then would be able to help me better. We took a taxi home.
Sunday...
The girls got up before I did to check on my purse and go get my car. I wake up to Stephanie saying, "Jess, your truck is gone." Ok, I'm up. What do you mean it's gone? Gone? So I got up, and we went back to Baja (for the third time now) to ask about my purse. The guy said it wasn't there, but as we asked him, the two maids in the office looked at each other conspicuously. In my mind, they took it.
Which on a side note, I don't really care too much about my purse or its contents. All I wanted back were my keys, the film in my camera, and the knife that my dad gave me. They can have my money, my camera, my purse (I have plenty), my ID (if that will do them any good). The things that I want back are of the least value, with exception of the knife, to whoever got them. Back to Sunday.
So we leave Baja, and drive over to where my truck was parked to see if maybe the owner of the property had had it towed. He was an American, painting a door, and a real nice fellow. He said it wasn't him, but we should go to the police station, whether it was towed or stolen, and directed us there. So we go to the police station. arriving at 11:00 a.m. It was pretty cool because we got to hear all of these stories from people bailing their friends out. But I go in and talk to the first guy who I need to speak with. He asked me if I had a '98 white Jeep Cherokee. I said it was a '99, but yeah. Well, apparently what happened was someone came to the police making a claim of a hit and run by a white Cherokee with AZ plates. Which obviously is mine, because I own the only car of such description. Assuming that I was the responsible party, my truck was impounded. At about 3:30 they finally were writing out my papers to get my truck out of the impound. The "judge" looked up at me and said (in Spanish), that'll be $50. $50, for what? Because you assumed incorrectly and wasted my day? Hell no. I told her that I did nothing wrong, so there is no reason that I should pay $50.
This caused one of the many little spats between Steph and I, because as I came out of the "judge's" office to go talk to the other guy about not paying, she asked what was going on. I told her that they wanted me to pay, and I had to go talk to the first guy. She said, "Jessica, it's an impound fee, just pay it." My response was, "Steph, I didn't do anything wrong, their system is fucked up, and I am not going to contribute to it." She was getting ancy because we all had been there so long. "How long is it going to take?" "I don't know, but I'm not going to be a part of their corruption. No one is keeping you here. If you don't want to wait, go." And I walked away.
I went and found the first man. He came back to the judge's office, and I told him that I didn't understand why I would have to pay, I hadn't wronged anyone. He said I did not have to pay. So they gave me my papers to go to the impound to get my registration to come back and get my papers to go to the impound and get my car. Whew, 4 and 1/2 hours later, we have gotten a piece of paper.
Now here comes the next problem. My purse is gone, my keys are gone. So we have to find a locksmith. But there are no phones ANYwhere. Seriously. We dropped Steph and two of the triplets off back at the condo, so they wouldn't have to deal with it. And so Steph and I wouldn't leave hating each other. So Bridget and I continued on our adventure for a locksmith. Everyone knew where one was, and sent us all around town. They were all closed, but had a phone number available. Too bad we couldn't call them. So we ended up at Cyndi's Beach House Rentals, and I asked the guys at the counter for any direction they could give us. They were WAY nice. They took the number from us and offered to call the guys for us, so I wouldn't have to be worried about my Spanish. The locksmith comes, we get my car, we get back to the condos, and it is 7:00 p.m.
Did I mention that I was dehydrated the whole day? So as soon as we got back, I found myself bolting in to the restroom, to relieve myself. I hate throwing up. But I did feel better, so I suppose that it was for the best.
In summary, I refused to pay for their fucked up system, and I came out on top. I have had my fill of Mexico for a while.
Wednesday, March 10
i had a couple moments today where a certain smell or angle of light remind me of the ol' days. i meant to post about this a week or so ago, when i had a similar experience.
first, back yonder during the storms, i was walking around campus. and it smelled like rain. divine. it reminded me of how back home, when it rained, the next day the ground would be filled with earthworms. we would be all excited and go play with the little creatures. ahhh.
next, on the little creatures note. i was walking between the anthropology and language and literature buildings this morning. the way the sun was coming through the trees, and the smell on the wind, reminded me of catching caterpillars. it was definitely the smell of caterpillar hunting. we would catch them, and put them in old margarine tubs. DON"T FORGET TO PUNCTURE THE TOP, THE CATERPILLARS WILL DIE!
walking home. two apartment complexes west of mine had a sprinkler going on the lawn. we had a play treehouse thing at our last house in illinois. and we would put the sprinkler near it so that we could swing on the rope from the fort part through the water around to the net. the pool was always too cold.
first, back yonder during the storms, i was walking around campus. and it smelled like rain. divine. it reminded me of how back home, when it rained, the next day the ground would be filled with earthworms. we would be all excited and go play with the little creatures. ahhh.
next, on the little creatures note. i was walking between the anthropology and language and literature buildings this morning. the way the sun was coming through the trees, and the smell on the wind, reminded me of catching caterpillars. it was definitely the smell of caterpillar hunting. we would catch them, and put them in old margarine tubs. DON"T FORGET TO PUNCTURE THE TOP, THE CATERPILLARS WILL DIE!
walking home. two apartment complexes west of mine had a sprinkler going on the lawn. we had a play treehouse thing at our last house in illinois. and we would put the sprinkler near it so that we could swing on the rope from the fort part through the water around to the net. the pool was always too cold.
Tuesday, March 9
some of the interesting concepts that i found in machiavelli's "the prince":
"one should never allow chaos to develop in order to avoid going to war"
"the arms of another man either slide off your back, or weigh you down, or tie you up"
"one can generall say this about men: that they are ungrateful, fickle, simulators, and deceivers, avoiders of dangers, greedy for gain;"
"fortune is a woman, and it is necessary, in order to keep her down, to beat her and struggle with her. and it is seen that she more oftern allows herself to be taken over by men who are impetuous than by those who make cold advances; and then, being a woman, she is always the friend of young men for they are less cautious, more aggressive, and they command her with more audacity."
"ingenuity over rage" (this actually part of a quote from petrarch)
"one should never allow chaos to develop in order to avoid going to war"
"the arms of another man either slide off your back, or weigh you down, or tie you up"
"one can generall say this about men: that they are ungrateful, fickle, simulators, and deceivers, avoiders of dangers, greedy for gain;"
"fortune is a woman, and it is necessary, in order to keep her down, to beat her and struggle with her. and it is seen that she more oftern allows herself to be taken over by men who are impetuous than by those who make cold advances; and then, being a woman, she is always the friend of young men for they are less cautious, more aggressive, and they command her with more audacity."
"ingenuity over rage" (this actually part of a quote from petrarch)
Monday, March 8
so do you want another story of me being a dumbass?
of course you do.
funny, how it involves the same spanish class. so my profesor asks me and a few other students to stay after class a few minutes because he hadn't finished grading our tests (for which i missed out on britney) yet, and he wanted us to have them to study for our mid-term (wed.). there was a section on the test in which all of the accents were omitted and we had to add them in where we saw fit. APPPARENTLY we also had to rewrite the paragraph in a different tense (i.e. past, etc.). he asked me where i had done it, and i promptly informed him that i didn't do it. i got told to read the instructions better next time. he then handed me my test and told me that i would have gotten an "A" had i actually completed the test.
damn it. to hell.
so let's rewind the day a little more to my spanish literature class, in which today she handed back our papers that we had to write on a narrative piece of literature. she handed mine back to me after class, and wanted to talk to me about it. APPARENTLY i didn't read through it before i decided that i was done, because as i re-read it with her, it looked like a second grader wrote it. luckily for me there was no grade on my paper. she had wanted to talk to me, because she knows that i am a good student and she said that she wouldn't grade it as is. it was an ego shot, but i'd rather her let me edit it first, and then she grade it. because i sound like a jackass who wrote a paper in my REM sleep.
i'm such an ass.
of course you do.
funny, how it involves the same spanish class. so my profesor asks me and a few other students to stay after class a few minutes because he hadn't finished grading our tests (for which i missed out on britney) yet, and he wanted us to have them to study for our mid-term (wed.). there was a section on the test in which all of the accents were omitted and we had to add them in where we saw fit. APPPARENTLY we also had to rewrite the paragraph in a different tense (i.e. past, etc.). he asked me where i had done it, and i promptly informed him that i didn't do it. i got told to read the instructions better next time. he then handed me my test and told me that i would have gotten an "A" had i actually completed the test.
damn it. to hell.
so let's rewind the day a little more to my spanish literature class, in which today she handed back our papers that we had to write on a narrative piece of literature. she handed mine back to me after class, and wanted to talk to me about it. APPARENTLY i didn't read through it before i decided that i was done, because as i re-read it with her, it looked like a second grader wrote it. luckily for me there was no grade on my paper. she had wanted to talk to me, because she knows that i am a good student and she said that she wouldn't grade it as is. it was an ego shot, but i'd rather her let me edit it first, and then she grade it. because i sound like a jackass who wrote a paper in my REM sleep.
i'm such an ass.
Friday, March 5
i'm sick of this feeling.
the worst part about it is that it is self inflicted. i think that i finally know that i am going to do something about it. maybei need to ask for help, but i wont. because i don't want you to look at me like that. but i am sick of looking at me like this.
this is a turning point for me in which i need what i will refer to as "santa claus support". support without knowing what is really wrong. support without question.
wait, isn't that friendship? well, i guess that's what i'm going to need, a big bucket of friendship.
the worst part about it is that it is self inflicted. i think that i finally know that i am going to do something about it. maybei need to ask for help, but i wont. because i don't want you to look at me like that. but i am sick of looking at me like this.
this is a turning point for me in which i need what i will refer to as "santa claus support". support without knowing what is really wrong. support without question.
wait, isn't that friendship? well, i guess that's what i'm going to need, a big bucket of friendship.
Wednesday, March 3
let's talk about doing things that make you want to kick your own ass. or in my case, my own ass. you get it.
anyways, i have of late had a little trouble making it to my last class, spanish composition at 6:40. you may be wondering what the problem is, last class? no. spanish? no. composition? no. this is possibly one of the easiest spanish class i have taken, so what's the problem? 6:40. it's so late, it kills me. so i missed it for two weeks straight (which would be a grand total of 4 classes).
now, i was supposed to go to the britney spears concert tonight with steph (my roommate).
in class on monday night, i realize, shit, i'm in class right now. i'll be in class this time on wednesday. shit.
so now i have disabilitated (is that even a word?) myself from going to said concert. now i could miss class, turning in an assignment, and possibly a quiz. but in the end, would i want to have failed or been forced to drop a class, and possibly have to take an extra semester to make up for it, for britney? the male readers here might see it differently, but it isn't worth it to me. had i not been a retard for the past two weeks, and gone to class, i would have either (a.) been able to miss, or (b.) realized the conflict and not had to tell steph last night.
i piss myself off.
anyways, i have of late had a little trouble making it to my last class, spanish composition at 6:40. you may be wondering what the problem is, last class? no. spanish? no. composition? no. this is possibly one of the easiest spanish class i have taken, so what's the problem? 6:40. it's so late, it kills me. so i missed it for two weeks straight (which would be a grand total of 4 classes).
now, i was supposed to go to the britney spears concert tonight with steph (my roommate).
in class on monday night, i realize, shit, i'm in class right now. i'll be in class this time on wednesday. shit.
so now i have disabilitated (is that even a word?) myself from going to said concert. now i could miss class, turning in an assignment, and possibly a quiz. but in the end, would i want to have failed or been forced to drop a class, and possibly have to take an extra semester to make up for it, for britney? the male readers here might see it differently, but it isn't worth it to me. had i not been a retard for the past two weeks, and gone to class, i would have either (a.) been able to miss, or (b.) realized the conflict and not had to tell steph last night.
i piss myself off.
Tuesday, March 2
last time on tales of a traveling gypsy:
"tuesday is my last day. i wouldn't be surprised if i have already mentioned that. but i am excited."
"i looked 'like an ASU girl'."
"find the opportunity."
now back to today's episode *fun jingle song that's like, "hey, jessica's cool, yeah!"*
today is the day. we'll see how that goes and i'm sure i will update on the strange feeling of non-jobness. i'm sorry if you all think that i am dwelling on this, but you have to understand (for those of you who aren't FULLY aware) of the effects that this job has had on my life. i grew up with that crew. a lot of firsts. so there are social and emotional implications that today carry. so quit your bitching. and if you don't like it, don't read it.
one of my many pet peeves is people who complain about things that they get for free. for example, if you do not like the selection of music that a particular radio station plays, why on earth would you call and try to tell them what music to play and how to run their business. a listener doesn't really have any say, YOU GET IT FOR FREE! advertisers might have a little more room in bitching, but either way, the station should not adapt. unless they are playing some crazy music that no one listens to, so therefore no advertisers buy time, so therefore the station flounders. but for those people who call and say shit like, "i listened ALL day and you played FOUR britney spears song, you should play less of her, and more hip-hop," YOU ARE AN ASS. first of all, if you don't agree with their music selection, STOP LISTENING, changing the station is in your power. your radio station is not cosmically predetermined, so shut the fuck up, eat your McDonald's, and try your mightiest to fall off the face of the earth. i'd sure appreciate the effort.
i think that i am an angry person.
"tuesday is my last day. i wouldn't be surprised if i have already mentioned that. but i am excited."
"i looked 'like an ASU girl'."
"find the opportunity."
now back to today's episode *fun jingle song that's like, "hey, jessica's cool, yeah!"*
today is the day. we'll see how that goes and i'm sure i will update on the strange feeling of non-jobness. i'm sorry if you all think that i am dwelling on this, but you have to understand (for those of you who aren't FULLY aware) of the effects that this job has had on my life. i grew up with that crew. a lot of firsts. so there are social and emotional implications that today carry. so quit your bitching. and if you don't like it, don't read it.
one of my many pet peeves is people who complain about things that they get for free. for example, if you do not like the selection of music that a particular radio station plays, why on earth would you call and try to tell them what music to play and how to run their business. a listener doesn't really have any say, YOU GET IT FOR FREE! advertisers might have a little more room in bitching, but either way, the station should not adapt. unless they are playing some crazy music that no one listens to, so therefore no advertisers buy time, so therefore the station flounders. but for those people who call and say shit like, "i listened ALL day and you played FOUR britney spears song, you should play less of her, and more hip-hop," YOU ARE AN ASS. first of all, if you don't agree with their music selection, STOP LISTENING, changing the station is in your power. your radio station is not cosmically predetermined, so shut the fuck up, eat your McDonald's, and try your mightiest to fall off the face of the earth. i'd sure appreciate the effort.
i think that i am an angry person.
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