Luna Bar Morning

My response to eating a Luna bar for breakfast is two-fold: On one hand, I'm very proud of myself to be starting the day in such a responsible, health-nut way. On the other hand, I try to figure out ways I could possibly convince my boss it would be worth budgeting for coffee and breakfast for the people who work the opening shift. Does a muffin basket really seem over the top for two people you rely on so heavily to greet the world and be the face of your business at this ungodly hour? At least the poor coffee shop workers, with whom I commiserate deeply, are able to make themselves a cup first thing. I think something that has been lost in the American workplace is the employer's sense of responsibility over the well-being of his employees. We spend over half of hour lives at work. Why shouldn't it be as comfortable as possible. Granted, I know work is work, but I don't think I'm the first voice to say that happy workers are productive workers. One of my good professor friends absolutely maintains one cannot accomplish anything of greater worth if basic needs are not met. I think more than a few people know my limited capacity to be friendly under conditions of low blood sugar and no caffeine. I'm really sorry, I'm just not functioning without those two things. How many people actually do function to their full potential without food first?
The American "deal with it" mentality doesn't really make sense. We are painfully behind the times in things like reasonable vacation time, maternity leave, and even lunch breaks. You know, why do preschoolers get a nap? Seriously, they don't want one. That's just a parents way of giving themselves free time. OK, well maybe the kiddies need it, but we don't STOP needing it after the age of 4. I NEED A NAPTIME! How many people do you know who would turn down the option for a naptime during the day as long as they didn't have to give up something like food? By the way, a 30minute lunch break is a joke. That was an invention of someone who never was forced to eat in 30 minutes. How much can a person really accomplish in the other half of that hour that is spent chocking down the lunch that took the first half of the hour to acquire?

Mafia Matriarch

Sometimes I think my temper might actually be frightening. At various times in my life I've had people tell me that they'd be very, very afraid if I were ever really angry at them. My piano teacher once told me the difference between my sister and me was that Ciara would flip out and murder someone in public, ranting all the way to jail. But if I ever decided to murder someone, they'd just discover the body months later, unrecognizable by that point of course.
Then today, my co-worker compared being in a relationship with me to being a part of the mafia---Awesome while you're in the family, but if you're ever put out, you'd better disappear from the face of the earth. Frankly, I'm at a point in my life when I kind of have to agree with him..except for the actual, you know, Russian Roulette, murdering part. I mean, I wouldn't actually kill someone who broke my heart, but I might have fun making them think that I might. Heh.

You know, I thought it was funny at the time, but it kind of freaks me out now!!
Am I destined to be a mafia matriarch?! I mean, I've got the Irish Catholic and the Italian Catholic heritage going for me...There may be no escape. I'm like a time bomb. Help!!

Inflection

I realize when I chat in gmail or Facebook I make a great deal of effort to show inflection so as to improve communication. But I think, after a moment of introspection, it's more than that for me. I am something of a musical speaker, and I just wouldn't get the Dorian-ness across by saying, "I don't understand," or even "I don't understand!." It has to be, "I don't underSTAND!!" because in person, I would place heavy emphasis on the last syllable of that word in order to emit the exaggerated sentiment of frustration. But, the exaggerated sentiment is sort of a joke, and most likely a joke that very, very few people get. To explain: I'm not really that frustrated over something like my gmail not functioning properly for a few hours in the day. Seriously, life is too short to get that upset about it.
Anyway, in this texting-messaging world, I think learning how to convey inflection is an important skill. Part of the reason--the main reason--I hate texting conversations is that there is too much room for interpretation. We have to power to affect perception! Let's not give this up because of laziness. Let's be clear.

Glee, bite me.

I really like the show Glee, but sometimes it makes me want to break a pane of glass. It annoys me to no end that the evil head cheerleader brandishes a cross on her chest. Of course it's the "Christian" girl who just so happens to be the ring leader in a group of superficial, hypocritical, sexually frustrated teasing lemming be-yoches: The Cheerios. My eye is immediately drawn toward the little gold cross around her neck as she releases her most ruthless phrases into the high school's already drama-filled halls. Honestly--and maybe this is the point--I don't want to be a associated with it, the cross I mean. And that's sad. Obviously, there's no understanding of symbolism of the cross or any desire for that understanding, but this is beside the point. Who cares what it's supposed to mean. The point is irony. The so-called Christian is really corrupt. Come on, people. This has been done!

On the other hand, maybe we should take care to evaluate this commentary, however offensive at first. Just how badly are Christians acting? Do we even believe what we say we believe? More importantly, do we know what we believe? The cheerleader doesn't. She probably doesn't even know how to pronounce the word "introspection," and clearly has no idea what it means to treat someone how she wants to be treated. Maybe she has no idea what it's like to be treated well--for real. out of love, not fear of ridicule. I've noticed in my own experience that people are so used to being treated badly by each other that it has become normal to have all-out fights with "friends," including name calling, the week long gossip after its over, and a hefty grudge so it can be brought up again at a moments notice. So why try to treat people well when you get treated the same or possibly worse than when you treat them how they would treat you?
But this just isn't true. While the writers of Glee may be telling us so give up because even the "Christian" who doesn't even know she's not acting like one is behaving without regard for the dignity of those around her, people do respond to genuine acts of care and goodness. If not at first, then sometime afterward. There are people out there who are at least trying to live according to their model because, after all, they have at least established one.

poem

"What a web we weave!" said the spider to his friend. "It glistens in the rain and captures flies in the wind" But while they had their fill of flies still they wondered wished and whined for another who might slake their voracious appetites. One day she happened by, that monarch butterfly, and blown into the web she did catch their eyes. They oohed and ahhed at her beauty, made her welcome made her safe, but at the end of it all they still laid her on their plate.

Play.

I've started reading a truly awful, yet interesting blog: http://roissy.wordpress.com/
It's by a man about men, and his opinions on relationships, the nature of male and female reactions, dating market values of both sexes....very interesting stuff. Some things may make your blood boil, others make you laugh out loud. Either way, I've enjoyed reading it recently especially in light of my quasi-recent break-up with my very own alpha male-coward variety. What i have decided to do is something of an addendum to my Maneaters club that only exists in my imagination and just come up with a few life rules to follow and to pass along to unsuspecting women like me.
**Let me just add, I've never referred to myself as a woman until last month at some point. Maybe this awakening from the fairytale dream has somehow changed the way I view myself in some ways. I'm a girl most of the time, but when it comes to relationships, I'm a woman. and don't you forget it boys. Oh wait, I don't talk to you guys anymore....No matter.

Rule NUMBER ONE: Never expect. Perceive.

#2 Make every effort to learn how to speak the language of a man before they learn how to speak yours.

#3 Realize you are susceptible to "GAME" and men who have it will attract you--be careful who you play with.

It's not that I think these rules will really protect any of us completely from the web of our wily counterparts. (Especially considering that deep down we still WANT to be captured!!!!! ARRRG!) I do believe however, we might avoid some of the heartache we don't fully understand by learning about the nature of the men (or boys) we're dealing with.

Let's learn how to play. Shall we?

Can someone please tell me why everyone thinks it makes sense to live together before you're married because you're not sure? Aren't you, by choosing to live together, simply getting married without the ceremony? I've known more than a fair few people who have chosen this "half-marriage" option and ALLLL have ended up one of two ways: staying in a relationship way past its expiration date, or spending lots of money together, depending on each other financially then breaking up leaving one or both parties in financial disarray. The girls have the audacity to get mad at the guys for "not committing" when they haven't done so either. Oh, let's commit without really committing. We'll live together to make sure we gel as a couple. Haven't you already assessed your boyfriend/girlfriend's character by this point well enough to know if you want to spend the majority of your time with him or her? Honestly, I understand the financial stability and convenience that comes with sharing expenses with a significant other. I do. It makes perfect sense. What doesn't make sense to me, though, is why this is supposedly superior to retaining your independence before making the "official commitment." Excuse me, I'm not a girl you get to try out like that because you're not sure. Girl's, that's like saying, "Hey man, I'm not really worth sealing the deal over. Feel free to steal my youth and then leave me after 7 years we've spent deciding whether or not we love each other enough to actually be married."

I'm not saying by any stretch that I think people are bad or evil or stupid because they have decided to live together before getting married. I am saying that I think that it's ignorant to say that experiencing someone in this way is somehow the fail-safe for a path otherwise way to risky to take. I wonder if most people are starting their relationship off not with trust, but fear and selfish expectations that the other person will meet their needs.

Precious Helplessness

There is nothing like a wonderful wave of helplessness to bring you back to center, and there are few things in life quite like being locked out of your house and your car at the same time that give you that sensation we all hate. However, there is nothing like returning to the spastic arm motions toward the dreaded door button and the smile that hurts my cheeks that make me realize how a precious, helpless hour and half of nothing to do can be so...nice. I think I spend so much time in fast motion that I start forgetting that life can and does exist at regular speed, and that the world doesn't end when you can't make it somewhere. No one hates you and you haven't downgraded from overachiever to slacker status because you enjoy a little breather. (This is a great fear of mine.) You may even be better for missing whatever you're missing, or whatever it is you think you're missing.

Freedom in being unmemorable

As much as I'd like to think of myself as an-outside-the-box thinker, I must admittedly come to the conclusion that I have not had a single original thought in my entire life. The fact is, everything that I think about--even the most odd--has been thought already by many, many people. Though I cannot help but hope one day to be a great thinker who might actually contribute among the truly genius ideas of other people, let's face it: Out of the millions and millions of people, smart people, out there in the world and in history, there is a minuscule number of people who contributed something different and/or innovative enough for us to remember. Somehow, this fact actually encourages me...There is a freedom in being unmemorable. It is likely no one will ever remember anything that I say or write or do. HA! So it doesn't matter if 5 years from today I look at this blog and feel morbidly embarrassed. 5 years from that day, I'll probably have forgotten about it.

My favorite mode of expression is hyperbole.

Yesterday I saw a brief news story on a poetry recitation contest in which high school students chose from about 600 English poems to recite for a cash prize. Besides feeling immediately inadequate for my very poor knowledge of poetry in general, I remembered happily yet another thing my high school English teacher did so very well--poetry. We had poetry recitation contests for my first three years in high school. Junior year I recited Oliver Cromwell by Monty Python, the beginning of which I still remember: "The most interesting thing about King Charles the first is that he was five-foot-6 inches tall at the start of his reign, and only 4 foot 8 inches at the end of it...because of.....!! Oliver Cromwell Lord Protector of England!!" Of course, the best part about this poem is that it is actually a song set to Chopin's Heroic Polonaise, which is by far one of his best pieces as far as I'm concerned. I should find a link to it...
ahhhh!!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJ1yPz14LrU
Watch this!!!!!!!!!

One of my favorite things about poetry and writing in general is that one can say or explain with such artistry and grace the most mundane things. The most fun of these, of course, are delicate little insults that may even go unnoticed: "Darling, your fashion sense astonishes me, always so dernier cri! Even your morals match your attire, always so fresh and new!!"

Did she just call me shallow?

The writer/poet may leave his human subjects positively adust from just a push of the pause button in a world that has been spinning continuously for quite some time now. It's not fun writing to be mean as an end in itself. It is fun, however, when the aim is farce, to make fun of ourselves and each other and the things we believe and take for granted, thing we have stopped thinking about. But is this really being mean? or just tough love?

I am sorry.

I came across a paper that I wrote about my own character yesterday while searching my archives for a decent writing sample to send with my graduate school applications. After reading through the 5 pages of honest criticism, I realized to my disappointment that effects of that life-shattering moment in self-realization have not resulted in the formation of a deeper more stable character. I am just as scared and unstable, arrogant and willful. How depressing. I do realize my character flaws, but I don't know how to fix them. Or maybe I'm too lazy and emotional to think to seriously about it. The worst part about it is that I find myself guilty of the same behavior I despise most in other people--that is the callousness towards the feelings and well-being of others. I do want the best for people, but I am so easily angered by other people's bad behavior that I allow it to alter mine and I become just like them. How do I get out of this pattern? I wonder if it will take forming a habit of altering my perception of most people, which honestly is very negative at this point.

But how, then, do you teach yourself not to be afraid? It is said that with God at our side we should not have to be afraid, but I've always felt afraid. Fear is at the very base of every single action I regret. Fear of hurting someone's feelings just causes you to hurt them more deeply. Fear of a conversation just makes the inevitable more difficult. Fear of failing just makes you less relaxed and more apt, in fact, to fail at what you're doing.

So the answer is Do Not Be Afraid. Say what needs to be said. Do what needs to be done. Above all, operate this way among the rest of the population who likely haven't really thought about this. Wonderful.

I have to apologize to nearly every guy I have come into contact with in the past 2 months. I am sorry that I cannot live up to what you might have thought of me; but I am moving river underneath an iced surface. If you dig too deeply, you'll likely drown. I have unfairly and selfishly invited people close to me knowing that my ice is thin, but I'm telling you now to keep off. Better to visit me in the spring.

Oh Master

In the past two days, I have been approached by not one but TWO young men who have insisted upon making me their Sith Padawan, their protege of the dark side of the Force. Are my friends bigger nerds than I am? Well, it's looking grim. I do not wish to be a member of the dark force, thank you very much! If I am going to submit to a master, it's going to be a master of some goal I actually wish to achieve. Because what does a master do? He tells you you're an idiot, that you know nothing, that you a large pile of masticated beef. You get mad, wish you were dead, tear your hair out, scream and cry.... and then you get BETTER at whatever you're trying to accomplish. Thank you, master.

Yes, I have no intention of putting myself through this kind of torture, however effective, if the outcome is to be the demise of my soul. I do quite well all by myself in that department. The evil man only serves himself. So in the case of the Sith master, the padawan should be aware that his master will most likely betray him anyway. Likewise, the master should be aware that his padawan will most likely kill him, enjoying each moment in retribution for the torture he experienced on the road to becoming a full fledged Sith. What is the POINT, people??!?
Of course, is the sith master completely evil if he desires to impart his knowledge, that being an unselfish act....Or no, because it is possible to educate for selfish reasons...hm. But why if you know it's going to backfire on you? ARG. I don't understand.

I recall reading something by Nietzsche that at once described the void of love and love itself. I wonder what this means when applied to actions...I wish I could remember what I was reading....

Dearie me Dairy

If only this weren't so hilarious to me, I would be embarrassed that I've allowed a bacterial process to take up residence in the most sacred domain that is my car...where, in fact, I live most days.

I am gradually getting dumber.

I think this statement deserves its own post. No explanation necessary.

Edgyness in Perception

I finally slept well after more than two weeks of getting between 3 1/2 and 5 hours of sleep per night. Of course, I overslept through 3 alarms, and woke only after incorporating text messages from work into my dream, which I realized almost immediately were part of my real world. ARG. I have been extremely edgy this summer in general, but this month has been...special. My personal narrative is at once rudely shaken and painfully redundant. My thoughts are so vivid that I have to force myself to pay attention to anything actually in front of me. This is particularly unnerving while driving. WAY too often I end up a mile down the road and don't remember how I got to that point.
I've been spending a great deal of time thinking about perception, especially my own, and how it is affecting the vision of reality. The truth is, I have a wide variety of perceptions. At this point, I think the variety is just leading to fear a self-diagnosis of schizophrenia. I may be painfully unaware of what is actually happening around me. Maybe this is because what I'm thinking so hard about is in fact the perception of other people who, I imagine, are first of all struggling to understand what their own perception is, which is changing as often as mine is, making it virtually impossible to analyze from the outside. It's a futile effort that I wish I could just put down and forget.Is this how philosophers come to the conclusion that there is no reality? Because they can't find it for themselves beyond there own perception?

I'm losing sleep over this ridiculousness and its beginning to vex me.