Day 26.

Caitlin Jender is pretty much amazing. This honorable mention is going to her because if it wasn't for her, I would not be posting today. I would have forgotten.

Life goes by so fast that it is hard to remember what is really important, what we really want to accomplish, and what we are actually doing. This evening I have been challenged to accept interruptions with an open mind and a open heart. Why, you ask? Because interruption are often the most important parts of our lives. Looking back on a season of time, it is often difficult for me to remember what it was i actually did and what important things happened. (I am more likely to remember a season of life by the bad things that happened during it than the good things-- A flaw of my own.) However, the good things I remember from a season already past are the things I didn't plan, the interruptions to the plans I had already made, the inconveniences that brightened others days and life. So here is to the things not planned and those things that seem like hassels but really turn out to be wonderful......maybe that is why I like misadventures so much.

Day 25.

Every day for the past 25 days I have been faced by an interesting dilemma-- I can never quickly decide what I want to write about for this blog. I only post here once a day so a simple random thought doesn't seem important enough, I don't want to write about random facts about my day because I'm trying to be less self-absorbed, and I feel weird copying the ideas written in the Tumblr I follow religiously.

I forgot to put pickles on my sandwich today, and, realizing this about a half an hour after lunch, I understood why the sandwich was so unsatisfying.

I was just speaking to Chelsea about my writing dilemma who suggested I tell you about my day.Today I went to Spanish class...it was interesting and stuff, but after that I watched a bunch of interesting and crappy music videos with Chelsea until lunch. Then Chels, Thomas, and I goofed off talking at lunch and now Thomas is making a card for Chels' wall. Oh, random day stuff.

Traveling. Paris. I want to go to Paris so badly and explore the Luvre for weeks and study at the Sorbonne. I want to wake up every morning, drink an espresso, eat a fresh baked croissant, and spend my days exploring the country side or walking along the river Seine. I want to tell as many places as possible, "I would stay and love you, but I have to go," go and love another place, and then another. I want to love places. Doesn't that sound like so much fun? It makes me wonder, how does one go about loving a place? By exploring and discovering, by tasting new foods and meeting wonderfully strange people....  I can almost envision a crowded street market as I walk through it looking for fresh produce for my afternoon meal. I can almost hear the rush of people walk by as I sit at an outdoor cafe and drink espresso while people watching. I can almost feel the sunshine. For now, though, I will just have to rely on the Tardis and my books to take me places, to travel.

Day 24.

Even as a small child I loved to argue about words, about what one person, mainly my brother, had exactly said because I felt the specific wording of a phrase held distinct importance. It is no wonder now that I love studying words, their effects, and how people use them. I almost wish I knew what I know now about words when I was arguing with my mom and brother about the importance of correctly relaying the dialogue between my brother and I during our fights-- I would have won most all the fights. (I think it is extremely humorous that someone like myself could love words so much and, also,  frequently forget the right words, use the wrong words, mispronounce words, and over use words with lovely descriptive capabilities such as 'stuff'' and 'things'.) For now, though, I am through arguing over words, over who said what and when and why I am right as a result of it. In taking all the energy I placed into arguing before and transferring it to understanding words, their importance and weight, I am seeking to better understand both the world around me and myself. I may not be able to eloquently explain everything I have learned about words, but I feel like I have gained a deeper understanding of language. In my Rhetoric of Humans Rights class, we have learned about a few, extremely powerful words that have a huge impact on the human rights scene. One of such words, genocide, is the young product of Raphael Lemkin who sought to appropriately name what was happening to the Jews in World War Two. Coupled with the "g-word" is a much older one that has been easily adapted to the human rights vocabulary..."war criminal". Both words, well at least as seemingly framed by Samantha Powell in "A Problem From Hell," are to be used to prevent atrocities from occurring and to stop those already occurring by naming genocides and pointing out war criminals. It seems so shocking to me that both words can also be used to encourage violence, not the prevention of it. The detailed examples of which I will spare you. Words are neither good nor bad, helpful nor hurtful, but incredibly powerful. How that strength is utilized is solely in the hands of those who wield them which, the last time I checked, is most every living human being. I think that is all very fascinating.

Day 23.

I frequently think about people who have made huge impacts on my small life, and often those thoughts spill out of my mouth to the nearest person who is willing to listen. This morning my thoughts have been drowned in remembered music, the music of one person who I almost know. I have spent countless hours letting this person's thoughts influence my own, letting him transport me to the far away magical places that could only be  the product of our combined imaginations. I have heard in his music the sound of pure joy and happiness, longing, patience, satisfaction, wonder, awe, hope, and faith, and been captivated in all of that those sounds mean and feel. With those songs I have wondered what color the perfect twilight would be. I've imagined being so deep under water, far below where sun light reaches, and experiencing a brightness that could never exist on the earth's surface. I have felt the wind on my face as I soared in the air over the whole world and watched people staring up at me in wonder. With those songs I have laughed and been the happiest I can remember, but also I have cried and felt more pain than I care to now properly recall. To those songs I have fallen asleep and forced myself to stay awake. I have stayed as still as I possibly could and moved as quickly as my insufficient body would allow me to. Some may argue that his music isn't very good, that it is too similar to pop and is not real art. It is made with electronics, not with actual instruments. That it isn't music. However, I beg to differ. He has made a huge impact on my life through his music, his art, the reflection of who in essence he is. I am so thankful for his influence. I simply cannot wait until May 17 when his new album comes out. Where will we go? Where will he take me and what emotions and thoughts will I experience? Where will he demand I cross the boundaries of my limited imagination into wondrous places everyone should be in awe of? After being taken to the brightest depths of the ocean and the highest parts of the sky, I am terribly excited to discover where he will take me next.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_b7mT8ihGfQ

Day 22.

Sitting snug in my bed with blankets wrapped up to my neck in a tricky way that allows only my hands to stick out so I can type I cannot help but to be appreciative and to smile. The weather is just the gloomy leftovers of last night's thunderstorm and rain, and its dull cold is a sharp contrast to the brilliant warmth and sunshine that filled my last week with laughter and joy. It has been a battle all morning to prevent my mood from reflecting the weather, and I am afraid until recently it was a losing battle. My papers are refusing to write themselves and all my brain wants to do is to stare out the nearest window into the gray, cold day and reflect on where ever my brain wants to land. I wish it would go visit a Whangdoodle. I finally convinced myself to take a short, uh well long, break after trying to study in a few places across town. On this break of mine I read a few things, stalked a few people, discovered a few other things, and discovered my days worth of happiness. If you can find something to make you happy everyday, than maybe you can manage to be happy when you're doing something you don't want to do or thinking something you don't want to think or feeling something you don't want to feel. I think it would be a waste of a day to get through the whole thing without managing to be happy or finding something that made you happy.

Day 21.

Spring Break

I will honor my promise to make up for my rather neglectful spring break posts now that I am back at school by sharing some of my favorite things about my past week. They are in no particular order.
Walking on the beach.
Laying out in the warm sunshine.
Riding on a boat.
The mud fight. Who says throwing dirt is only for children?
Dr. Who episodes.
The best kind of naps.
Seeing a bunch of people I genuinely love and truly miss.
Being goofy and cooking with my mom.
Talking to and figuring things out with Thomas.
Sleeping in!
Getting to spend time with Caitlin even if it was only for a few hours.
Alex! I got to see Alex before I drove home.
Surprising Racheal with birthday things.
Backing huge cupcakes....I like birthdays.
Listening to music, but really listening.
Eating non-emerson food.
Doing laundry for free.

Now I am back at school with a bunch of homework to do that I have yet to finish. Being back reassures me that the quietness I had over break isn't going to become a regular part of my life. My life is loud. Their are so many people in my life, and all, with their own unique volume, peer into my life to learn what I have been doing and have been up to. I wasn't home for a half hour before my big sis decided that I was going to come over and another decided I was going to come over later in the evening. I'm not complaining either way. I'm excited to see my dear friends that I have missed and to spend time with them and hear what has been going on in their lives even though I have only been away from them for a week. Oh Ogletown, how you charm your inhabitants into loving you so.

Day 20.

Today is my last day of spring break. Well, the last day that I will be not doing school work. Thomas and I are driving for the big ATL tomorrow morning, and from then it will be mostly paper time. I;m afraid I have one due this coming Tuesday and another due this coming Thursday. I really am crossing my fingers hoping I'll be able to finish them both in time, though I have surely procrastinated writing them long enough. I did try working on them over this break, but I just kept being distracted. I don't know what is wrong with me. Now, though, I am tired and I still have to pack for the car ride tomorrow. I have to admit I feel badly for all the short posts this week so I will do my best to make up for it next week.

Day 19.

Today was quite an interesting day to say the least. Spring break is much lovelier then I ever imagined it would be. There have been disappointments, especially today at the dentist, but there have also been surreal evenings of watching Dr. Who, walking the beach for hours, talking and talking, and kayaking, and mud fights that I totally win. Today I am not sure if I want to go back to Atlanta. What a change that is from the girl who just a few days ago couldn't imagine living anywhere else. I am told that in a few days things will still be different, but it won't seem so strange. Here may stay magical, life may stay magical, but just because I leave doesn't mean everything changes. Didn't you know? Disney World dropped right into Gulf Shores, and fostered a lovely week. Tomorrow is my last day in this town. I think I want to spend it at the beach and making homemade pasta with my mom.

Day 18.

Things change, but change scares me. I am excited for a change that could possibly occur tomorrow. I'm afraid to get my hopes up, though, for fear I will be disappointed. For once I'm excited for change. Who knows what will happen....I may be able to eat an apple relatively soon. I wonder how many different types of apples there are and what they all taste like....I shall soon take a bite out of as many different types of apples as I can find. Maybe I'll find a new favorite, sorry Granny Smiths.

Day 17.

I want to write a short story, but I'm not really a writer. I am just going to share what the story is about. I am not quite sure yet who the characters are going to be, they haven't quite come to life. There are lots of shells, lots and lots of shells. There is also a girl who when her family goes on vacation to the beach for the summer, all summer long, every summer, walks the beaches every morning looking for a perfect shell. She can't seem to find one and is really quite obsessed with a shell that displays perfection. She does this for years. One year is different though. In between the almost perfect summers, she discovers she has cancer. The next summer, trying to make things seem as normal as possible, the family still goes to the beach, but she doesn't have any hair. She is quite self conscious about not having any hair; however, that was the summer she met him. She was older and had met a boy. You know how the story goes, it was a complete summer romance. She didn't quite know what to do with him or what to do with herself. He just started showing up places she was, and, one day, he simply showed up on the beach as she was beginning her ritual morning walk. As they were walking and talking, she saw a beautiful shell in the sand by the water. Bending down to pick it up, she thought it was going to be just as beautiful and imperfect as so many of the shells she had previously collected. Upon examination, though, the shell she was now holding in her hands was perfect. Her companion asked to look at it to examine it for himself--just out of curiosity. When she looked up to watch a seagull fly over their heads, he quietly broke the shell into two uneven, imperfect pieces. 

Day 16.

There isn’t really a nice way to confess failure. I did not write a blog yesterday, but I also didn’t do a lot of things I normally do either. My days at Oglethorpe follow a routine that changes whenever I get bored of it, but it is a routine nevertheless. My morning routine is the one that changes the least, probably because it seems the most practical way to do what I need to do within the amount of time I allot myself. Normally I wake up, have a quiet time, shower, eat breakfast, fix my hair, and go about my day. Although writing my blog fits into the schedule of my day at school, it is often never at a specific time every day that I decide to write. Mostly whenever I have a thought I think will suffice for a blog. Yesterday, Day 15, had no semblance of any sort of routine. The day was filled with people I enjoy, the best possible weather, and lovely summer time activities. The only thing I did yesterday that has anything to do with my routine at Ogletown is shower. Nothing else. I didn’t even blog.

Day 14.

I am itching to get on the road. I am sorry for not taking the time to update you properly.

Day 13.

I am currently overcome with disappointment in myself at what is apparently my inability to learn a seemingly simple lesson. Maybe it comes with age, or maybe wisdom....well, maybe a lot of disappointment--that comes with both age and wisdom, right? I am forever yearning for something different or something more of what I already have. I can manage contentment, but happiness slips like water through my grasping fingers. I never realize how happy I was and how much I enjoyed what I have until it leaves and drives right out of the driveway, right on to the interstate to go far, far away, from where I am. I'm never home often, and even when I am home I am sometimes bothered that I am never alone. Sometimes all I want is to be alone and for everything to just be quiet for once! Here I am, now, and it is perfectly quiet, so quiet that I left the door open so that the silence would not drive me bonkers, and I am perfectly alone. Now, I can't help but to miss the sound of familiar voices coming through the wall that make me dream of flipping out on people. I can't help but to miss the familiar face I know is always there for me. I need to appreciate them more when I have them. I need to appreciate what I have, while I have it instead of imagining there is something better. I am starting to think that I have what is better, and the other stuff I imagine are simply shallow ideas that when brought to life are less and worse than what I really do have.

Day 12.

There is a certain type of person, a certain archetype, that I keep seeing everywhere. My reaction towards them is the same every time I notice them. I want to kidnap them, take them home with me, praise them, encourage them, and instill them with self confidence. I suppose I am making general assumptions about these people when I see them, that I am judging them by their looks that they lack self respect and confidence. This, I admit, is quite terrible of me. Still, I cannot seem to help myself. It is not unusual of this archetype to walk very slowly, almost as if they are crawling. At first they look like cute, little, old people because their backs are slightly hunched over, but instead they are young. Their heads are tucked down in a slight cower constantly and shrink down further when others talk to them. (This may be the cause of the haunched back--the back is just following the lead of the head.) As much as I would like to assign them to a certain fashion sense, they are individuals and that truth is displayed through their clothing. Now my question is: Are these real people or are they "paper" characters I create in my head and assign to a certain image or does the way people carry themselves and present themselves really reflect their character? What do you think?

Day 11.

I'm just procrastinating. I have nothing to say. I just don't want to write my paper.

Day 10.

This morning I started watching a 6 episode series called The Atheist Tapes. There is one intellect, I believe they are all white males, per episode being interviewed on their religious views or lack there of. The two interviews I have watched so far, I have really enjoyed. Both men made a distinction between atheists and anti-theists and both men claimed to be anti-theists. The distinction is that atheist simply do not believe in a god of any sort while an anti-theist not only does not believe in a god, but believes that any religious belief in a god is genuinely a bad thing. I was surprised when I heard the first man say this and couldn't wait to hear his explanation on why a belief in something larger than humans are able to comprehend is a bad thing. He didn't explain. The second man gave an answer, but it just wasn't a satisfactory one. According to this man, bad things are not done solely in the name of religion, but because of it. However, the examples he gave were only examples of people doing bad things in the name of religion which only represents the fallibility of man and not so much the fallibility of God. I was disappointed in his answers. I guess I expected those men to have better, convincing arguments. The second man also said something that has been playing through my head all day long. I've even thought about saying this to the person I was watching the tapes with, but I'll just talk about it here for now. The second interviewee said he was glad that science is detrimental to religion. I can't help but to strongly disagree with him. Although I am not very knowledgeable when it comes to scientific things, I haven't heard a piece of science that disproves religion. I think scientific discoveries such as universal laws and patterns attest that there has to be something more than random in this world, in this universe. Just my thoughts for the day.

Day 9.

This is my favorite kind of weather. The wind is lightly blowing mixing the sent of bright sunshine and new flowers. The little "woodland" between Emerson and Traer that has worn a think brown covering of dead leaves since fall is turning green with patches of purple and yellow flowers. The temperature is neither hot nor cold; instead, the weather is frequently described as chilly and warm. I love this season that reminds me of new beginnings, of second chances, of rebirth.... 

Spring feels like the beginning of a new year. The death of most everything green in the winter time makes everything seem dead, that everything is ended. But when spring comes, the plants and bugs that survived the harsh cold come alive again, they start over, they're reborn. It's lovely. Walking through the woods is even more peaceful and pleasant, and I can't help but gaze upwards. My chest swells with awe and my mind fills with thanks for being where I am, for seeing the beautiful smelling snowflake blossoms, for hearing the chirping birds' lullaby... 

Spring is definitely in the air and I love it.

Day 8.

When does a day begin? Does it start when the clock hits midnight or is a day renewed when you wake up? For the sake of this tale, my day started at midnight. I hadn't yet fallen asleep when the clock truck twelve because it was my personal goal of the evening to call Alex as soon as it was his birthday and sing him happy birthday. He received an extremely obnoxious voice mail and, when he called back, was serenaded by a lovely middle of the night frog croak version of "Happy Birthday." I wish that kid the happiest hours any twenty-four can contain. With my mission accomplished I decided, for the first time that night, it was time to dissolve into the nothingness of peaceful sleep. zzzzzttt, zzzzzttt. My phone decided to alert me that Chelsea would really like to go to McDonald's, and consequently my sleep was delayed a little longer by adventure time with Chelsea. Once back from a midnight trip, it was finally time for sleep. When at around 1:30 I finally realized that I could not fall asleep, I headed into the suit-mate's room to participate in their friendly chatter. Next thing I know it is 5:45 in the morning. I lost myself and all sense of time in a lovely conversation that seemed to last only 20min. My alarm was set to go off at 8am. Third times the charm. I was able to fall asleep rather quickly. If not productive I feel like that was a very nice way to begin a day.

Day 7.

Thank you for this day, it was so incredibly wonderful. Hot shower, lovely book, wonderful sister, soy latte, book store, signed by author book finds, Flannery O'Conner, $60, Rags-O-Rama, Figo's, my mom, giant cupcake pan-maker-thingy and "Under the Sea".

My day started rather badly, I woke up very upset, but it quickly brightened in the best kind of way. What is more special than being asked out on a date by one of my favorite people who proceeds to bring me starbucks, spend all day with me, and meet my parents all because she wanted to? I am truly blessed.

Jacki is so very lovely. Apparently I am just like her....She misses me so much. It feels lovely to feel missed and loved by someone I love so much. I showed mother the book my small group is reading and briefly explained that it is about the Sabbath and keeping the Sabbath, what that means and why it is so important and such a good thing. I am really learning a lot by the book. I read almost a whole chapter this morning. I wish I could explain the content to you, it really spoke to me. Though I can't quite find the words to communicate properly what I read. Appreciate the days like today. They are worth their seconds' weigh in the most precious metals that exist on this planet.

Day 6.

My friendships are so incredibly important to me. Many of the people I love most in this world are my friends. The definition of true friendship goes far beyond "being there" for each other. It means: caring about what is going on in each others lives, asking the other how their day was and being interested in what they say even when you only want to talk about yourself, wanting to tell them what is going on in your life, sharing yourself with them, supporting them, telling them when their being stupid, telling them how much you appreciate them, genuinely appreciating them, thinking about them above yourself, and many other things I can neither think of or articulate at this moment. I am so thankful for the wonderful friends I have in my life that love me and support me.

Day 5.

The novel, Notes from the Underground is truly an amazing novel. Although I enjoyed it while reading it, talking about it during class today allowed me to understand it better and consequently to appreciate and like it even more. We were supposed to have finished reading the novel by class today. Three of us in the class, including the professor, were the only ones who had finished it. The others probably hadn't started reading it yet. Dr. McCarthy was talking about something in the book, I don't quite remember what exactly, but in the middle of what she was saying, curiosity struck me. Apparently the fact that I had a question or something to say was evident on my face for McCarthy called on me and told me to go ahead with whatever I was going to say even after I told her it was incredibly off topic from what she was talking about. Thanks to my wonderful memory I do not remember what I asked her, though the ideas we discussed and the than floating ideas in my head are still quite clear to me. The main character in the novel, the ever present "I", deals with an incredible amount of self contradiction and inner turmoil because of it. He is an orphan and has never truly known love or friendship, and as a result most of his knowledge on the two subjects comes from books. Romantic stories in books are not a true reflection of reality and because of this, I think, the "I", struggles with what reality really is and what he thinks it should be due to the impression of reality imparted on him by books. The poor man can't seem to separate reality from the books and cannot therefore understand his turmoil at seeing the world in two different ways and wanting to act towards it in two different ways. At the end of the novel it becomes clear the the character is just an exaggerated version of all of us, well that is what the author tells us at least. I agree with him, the author, to some extent. I have read countless books that I have at one point in time decided I wanted to live in. There have been other times that I have been tempted to frame and experience my reality through the reality of a book. I don't think I have ever fully been able to lose the distinction though. After reading the book, I understand how horrible of an idea it would be to expect what I read in books to be reflect in actual reality. It may be easy to fall into that trap though. Dostoevsky is in part advising us to make the distinction and to not expect our realities to reflect the fiction we read. Otherwise our fate will be the same as I's, the fate of the disappointed idealist that turns into a horrible cynic.

Day 4.

Tonight was the first fullish rehearsal of The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler, only two nights before the heartfelt show opens. Auditions were a while ago, I don't remember when. But since then, well actually before than, since I first read the monologues, I have grown in ways I never thought I would. Over my short life span, I have made a conscious effort to not really think about my vagina, to put off thinking about it like I was putting off any type of a sex life. Well, in my effort to delay a sex life till I thought it was right, I put off thinking about my vagina. When I was reading the script, I was forced to think and acknowledge some things I hadn't before, but I was also given the chance to agree with concepts that were previously foreign and alien to me. In my audition, I was asked to yell CUNT as loud as I could. That evoked quite a interesting response from those lingering outside the audition room. Words that I didn't use very often, because of their suggestive and lewd subject matter, became proud new members, devoid of negative connotations, of my vocabulary. My view of my and other women's bodies changed-- I'd say for the better. I've really enjoyed that challenge of memorizing lines-- once a foreign concept to me--, becoming someone else, taking multiple (and sometimes confusing) corrections, and expanding my mind beyond the comfortable bubble I live in. Now, if only I can finish a paper, earn an A+ B- on a Spanish test, spend time with my mom when she comes up, improve my own monologue, and most importantly, sleep. I'm going to study now, good night.

Day 3.

Vulnerability. There are not many things that truly frighten me, that  make me want to implode and become nothing. I recently realized that being emotionally vulnerable creates this horrible feeling that I would do almost anything to prevent happening again. Honesty is required in order to be vulnerable, right? Although I try not to be a prideful person, I do pride myself in being an honest person. But if honesty creates emotional vulnerability, how honest am I with the world, especially if it is a feeling I would like to avoid at all costs? I have been thinking about vulnerability, my emotional vulnerability, lately because I just learned that I am scared of it. I was honest and in turn I felt like I opened myself up to the possibility of taken advantage of, crushed and essentially destroyed. I could not escape the anger this created. Who couldn't be angry at themselves for putting themselves in such a fragile position? Maybe that is why love and hate are so closely connected.

Day 2.

Well, technically it is Day 3, but it is only 12:01 and I haven't gone to sleep yet. Today has been wonderful. Alex is staying the night. A rare treat. I learned something about myself last night. There are very few things I am willing to stay up all night for. I am too busy to write anything special tonight. What a bad beginning. I'll make it up though:)

One

It has been about a week since I first created this blog, chose its first layout design, chose the first color scheme and back ground, and since that day I have been anxiously waiting to write in this new, empty and limitless journal of sorts. And though many thoughts and ideas have past through my head, it wasn't time yet to put them here. Now, those thoughts are gone and I do not have any pressing thoughts trying to force their way out into cyberspace. I suppose I should change that. My goal for today is to try to pay attention to the small things, find words to describe them or be overtaken by the curiosity and awe they inspire.