Is beauty in the eye of the beholder or is it a law of nature?
Ok take a seat. This might make absolutely no sense whatsoever. But, it makes sense in my head so you just have to deal with it.
I look in the mirror every morning. I study my face while I put on my makeup and do my hair. To some people I am the definition of beauty. To others I might be just the ugliest thing ever made. It is an entirely personal opinion as beauty as always been personal throughout time.
The question is what makes us think someone or something is beautiful? Obviously there is no universal standard for beauty. I might think a guy is hot while one of my girlfriends would think I am nuts. Even the beauty of art is not universal. My brother and my sister-in-law have very opposing views about what art is beautiful. Everything is personal.
However, what is universal is what we associate beauty with now and at various times throughout history. “Beauty” was perceived as being close to or the same thing as “good.” “Good” things are not only what we like but also what we would like to acquire for ourselves. Love, wealth, happy experiences and fine objects can all be considered “good,” and therefore “good" can be described as anything that stimulates our desire. We desire the “beautiful.”
Before I come across as shallow remember the idea of beauty is not limited to people but rather a concept to describe various situations, art, scenes in nature, and people. The idea of a beautiful thing is something that would make us happy if it were ours but remains beautiful even if it belongs to someone else. Everyone can see the sunset as beautiful even if they do not own it.
In ancient Greece, the aesthetic ideal was described by various philosophers as having “harmony” and “symmetry.” What was beautiful in Greece was so important they claimed, “Only that which is beautiful is loved,” and “the most beautiful is the most just.” The Beauty ideals of the Greek bodies were, as Plato described, in Harmony and proportion. However, all it takes is to see what they considered beautiful to understand what they meant by proportion. The sculptures they had of the human body portrayed muscular men and soft curvy woman. Geometrical shapes were also very popular.
The idea of a well proportioned thing or person as beautiful spans even to modern day. The Pythagoreans looked at numbers as they relate to beauty. They claimed that all things exist because they are ordered. Essentially, they are the realization of mathematical laws, which are a condition of existence and of beauty. A statue in Greece, called the Canon embodies all the rules of correct proportion, or perfect ratio, in all of its parts.
But what about other types of beauty? In the 18th century many pieces of art represented the combination of beautiful things with terror, the devil and death. Aristotle explained why images in art, such as horrific volcanoes provoked a feeling of fear and pity. This made the person viewing the art feel cathartic. This idea of beauty is called the Sublime. Those feelings of fear without actually having experienced that, which one fears, made it beautiful. Sounds crazy…yeah. But think about how many people love the thrill of skydiving or the two-hour fright fest of a scary movie. It is cathartic and according to Aristotle it was beautiful.
So does this answer what is beautiful? Hardly. Is it something that is mathematically proportioned? The artists of the renaissance seem to think so. Or is something more? Is beauty truly in the eye of the beholder? Is it something the spectator feels that makes the object or person beautiful? I know I don’t have the answers. But the questions sure are fun.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
I know I know I have not wrote a damn thing in a while. Truth is I have been writing up a storm! Just nothing I would like to put on a public space. ;)
I promise some very insightful, smart and yet slightly stupid stuff is coming your way.
For now just know...
new job is going great.
I am counting down the days until Hitchhiker makes it into theatres.
Everyone needs to buy the new Glen Phillips album. While your at it pick up Aqueduct.
Everyone needs to read The History of Beauty by Umberto Eco. While your at it read The Name of the Rose by Ego as well.
Oh and just to brag with reckless abandon.....I am going to see Paul McCartney!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I promise some very insightful, smart and yet slightly stupid stuff is coming your way.
For now just know...
new job is going great.
I am counting down the days until Hitchhiker makes it into theatres.
Everyone needs to buy the new Glen Phillips album. While your at it pick up Aqueduct.
Everyone needs to read The History of Beauty by Umberto Eco. While your at it read The Name of the Rose by Ego as well.
Oh and just to brag with reckless abandon.....I am going to see Paul McCartney!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Who decides what makes a writer great?
Sometimes I just hate being a girl. Actually approximately 36 days out of the year I hate being a girl. The rest of the year is just fine and dandy. So tonight at dinner the subject came up about what makes a writer great. The boyfriend claims that one (not the only) thing that makes a writer great is vocabulary. I personally think what makes a writer great is the ability to convey the writer’s thoughts to the mind of the people in a smooth manner. Or rather in a manner that RELATES to the people. I don’t care if the material is a mystery, politically incorrect humor, romance, drama or psychological editorials; it has to be able to form a mental picture in the readers mind. Essentially if the reader does not like the person writing, he or she won’t like the actual writing. Marcus Aurelius is the perfect example of a great writer who “speaks” to the people. If one reads Marcus, even though the language may be archaic, you would still feel like Marcus himself is speaking to you. That, to me, is a great writer. I am not there yet. However, I have faith I will get there someday. Now vocabulary is important and the boyfriend brings up a good point. If you feel the writer is an idiot you won’t want to listen to him anyway. But (and this is a big BUT) you can have “common man” vocabulary in your writing and still be considered great (at least in my book). The boyfriend's writing is politically incorrect humor. There are not many words the everyman would have to look up in the dictionary to be able to understand what he writes. (In my opinion this is a good thing because no one has the ability not to laugh whilst reading his material.) But, is he good? Yes. Is he great? Yes. So this brings me to wonder, am I wrong? Am I right? Neither? What makes a writer great? My brother is a great writer and yet the everyman could probably understand only half of what he writes. He has the vocabulary. He is a great writer. But, does he “speak” and “relate” to the people? Hell no. So maybe it can be both and the exceptional writer has the ability to combine both good human relations and great diction. The jury is still out.
In other news….
The job is going well, however I do find it hard to separate emotions when you have to call a patient to come back to the doctors knowing very well the doctor found cancer but not being able to tell them that over the phone. I never knew how many were really out there
I heard on the radio today that Pope Benedict VXI has an email address. Now I really know I am living in the world of technology. You really know the Internet has taken over when the freaking Pope has an email address.
The L.A Book Fair is this weekend. Everyone in the area should check it out.
I said earlier today that I just really wanted to be a writer but I was not sure it would happen. Weird thing is though; last week I had nothing in print except this blog. Today I have a photo in a magazine with a byline and a feature article on a very popular website. Maybe I just need to look at the big picture…baby steps. I don’t need to go from nothing to having my own column. I can do things little by little and someday I just might end up somewhere cool. Whether or not I am a great writer, a good writer, or the common average writer, the truth is I don’t mind either way. I just know I love to write and I was taught that you could always do what you love… if you try hard enough.
Sometimes I just hate being a girl. Actually approximately 36 days out of the year I hate being a girl. The rest of the year is just fine and dandy. So tonight at dinner the subject came up about what makes a writer great. The boyfriend claims that one (not the only) thing that makes a writer great is vocabulary. I personally think what makes a writer great is the ability to convey the writer’s thoughts to the mind of the people in a smooth manner. Or rather in a manner that RELATES to the people. I don’t care if the material is a mystery, politically incorrect humor, romance, drama or psychological editorials; it has to be able to form a mental picture in the readers mind. Essentially if the reader does not like the person writing, he or she won’t like the actual writing. Marcus Aurelius is the perfect example of a great writer who “speaks” to the people. If one reads Marcus, even though the language may be archaic, you would still feel like Marcus himself is speaking to you. That, to me, is a great writer. I am not there yet. However, I have faith I will get there someday. Now vocabulary is important and the boyfriend brings up a good point. If you feel the writer is an idiot you won’t want to listen to him anyway. But (and this is a big BUT) you can have “common man” vocabulary in your writing and still be considered great (at least in my book). The boyfriend's writing is politically incorrect humor. There are not many words the everyman would have to look up in the dictionary to be able to understand what he writes. (In my opinion this is a good thing because no one has the ability not to laugh whilst reading his material.) But, is he good? Yes. Is he great? Yes. So this brings me to wonder, am I wrong? Am I right? Neither? What makes a writer great? My brother is a great writer and yet the everyman could probably understand only half of what he writes. He has the vocabulary. He is a great writer. But, does he “speak” and “relate” to the people? Hell no. So maybe it can be both and the exceptional writer has the ability to combine both good human relations and great diction. The jury is still out.
In other news….
The job is going well, however I do find it hard to separate emotions when you have to call a patient to come back to the doctors knowing very well the doctor found cancer but not being able to tell them that over the phone. I never knew how many were really out there
I heard on the radio today that Pope Benedict VXI has an email address. Now I really know I am living in the world of technology. You really know the Internet has taken over when the freaking Pope has an email address.
The L.A Book Fair is this weekend. Everyone in the area should check it out.
I said earlier today that I just really wanted to be a writer but I was not sure it would happen. Weird thing is though; last week I had nothing in print except this blog. Today I have a photo in a magazine with a byline and a feature article on a very popular website. Maybe I just need to look at the big picture…baby steps. I don’t need to go from nothing to having my own column. I can do things little by little and someday I just might end up somewhere cool. Whether or not I am a great writer, a good writer, or the common average writer, the truth is I don’t mind either way. I just know I love to write and I was taught that you could always do what you love… if you try hard enough.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
This is just a random thing. This is my life.
I was going to talk about watching the election of the new Pope this morning, but decided against it because of my understandable lack of knowledge of what the Pope really means to me. (Really I was in awe but more because of my memories of Italy). However, the crowd reaction was beautiful and surreal. I thought about writing on how planning is stupid because things never go as planned anyway. Why not just ride where the wave takes you. I had training this morning at 8:30; I had to reschedule or 4:30 today because I forgot my shoes. I forgot my shoes! My biggest worry about my first day on the job tomorrow is how studious and cute my new outfit will be. I am not nervous about the job. Odd. I might complain about how when I went to the bank this morning to open a new account they came at me with a 300-dollar chargeback from the account I had there over two years ago. I could rant about how the lady was rude to me and talked to me in a condescending manner when I stated there was no way I was in New York in January of 2003 when I was in Europe! Those damn charges where not mine!
I could lighten the mood. I could say that without a doubt I will be debt free in two months. I will make good money. I will love my job. My boyfriend owns American flag pajamas. I have panties with ruffles on the butt. My dog masturbates and my other dog has gone psycho because she is on prednisone. I have always wanted to be a heroine. When my sister-in-law calls I know the conversation will last at least an hour. My brother has an interview on Thursday that I believe could change his life. I got recent picture today of my best friend in Aruba’s daughter. It really made me miss Aruba. The Aruban sun is different than our sun. It feels like…perfection.
I am protesting the bank charge. I know my new work outfit is cute. I will get back to Aruba someday soon. My dog will continue to masturbate and I just might buy these Beatles Pajamas.
I was going to talk about watching the election of the new Pope this morning, but decided against it because of my understandable lack of knowledge of what the Pope really means to me. (Really I was in awe but more because of my memories of Italy). However, the crowd reaction was beautiful and surreal. I thought about writing on how planning is stupid because things never go as planned anyway. Why not just ride where the wave takes you. I had training this morning at 8:30; I had to reschedule or 4:30 today because I forgot my shoes. I forgot my shoes! My biggest worry about my first day on the job tomorrow is how studious and cute my new outfit will be. I am not nervous about the job. Odd. I might complain about how when I went to the bank this morning to open a new account they came at me with a 300-dollar chargeback from the account I had there over two years ago. I could rant about how the lady was rude to me and talked to me in a condescending manner when I stated there was no way I was in New York in January of 2003 when I was in Europe! Those damn charges where not mine!
I could lighten the mood. I could say that without a doubt I will be debt free in two months. I will make good money. I will love my job. My boyfriend owns American flag pajamas. I have panties with ruffles on the butt. My dog masturbates and my other dog has gone psycho because she is on prednisone. I have always wanted to be a heroine. When my sister-in-law calls I know the conversation will last at least an hour. My brother has an interview on Thursday that I believe could change his life. I got recent picture today of my best friend in Aruba’s daughter. It really made me miss Aruba. The Aruban sun is different than our sun. It feels like…perfection.
I am protesting the bank charge. I know my new work outfit is cute. I will get back to Aruba someday soon. My dog will continue to masturbate and I just might buy these Beatles Pajamas.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Why being employed is more than just making money...
I just got home from being poked prodded and watched while peeing in a cup (well almost watched.) I was not even aloud to flush the damn toilet until the nurse came in and took my cup of pee from me. That was nice.
So I start my new job, (my well paying, real ob with benefits) on the 20th of next week. What is it about the 20th? Everything new seems to happen on the 20th! I even started my last job on the 20th. So anyway I have a stack of papers and books to study and read and sign before I start. Apparently there is a lot paper work in hospital positions. Regardless of all this procedure I have to say I am damn excited to start this job. I am confident in it and once again I am confident in myself.
These last couple months of unemployment have been hard on me. However, I am thankful I went through it. I am thankful because I now know how important working is and how I improve upon myself so much when I am working. It is not just about the money and being financially independent. It is about the feeling of accomplishment. That, even though I am a whole person no matter what my circumstances are; even though I am already worthy because I am just me; I am only me improved when I work for something.
These past few months I have had a lot of time to think. Unfortunately when you have too much time to think you start to disbelieve everything you are thinking about. You start to not believe in yourself. The truth is, no matter what is going on around us we can believe in ourselves and we can believe we are worthy. We don’t need to make a certain amount of money to be worthy. We don’t need to look a certain way to be worthy. We don’t have to be better than someone else to be worthy. We are worthy just because of who we are. It took me a long time to realize that. It took going into the “hole” again and struggling to climb back out.
I wrote before how I was still not sure where I was going. At first, I felt inadequate because I am 23 and I still am unsure of my future endeavors. The truth is, who the hell knows where they are going? My brother was going to be a professor as of last year when he was going into his marriage. Now he has dumped that idea and is going back into the corporate world. My grandfather went though countless jobs until he found his ground at the age of 50! My mom had two children before she decided what she wanted to do. I have many friends who are still feeling their way around different dreams. At least now I have a grasp of what my talent is. Now all I have to do is improve upon that (good advice from a friend) and the pieces will fall where they are supposed to. For now, I am happy working at the hospital, bringing a smile to faces of women who might need the outside help. I am happy just being me…good and bad, confident and vulnerable, imperfect and yet perfect at the same time.
I have a few plans in mind. I want to be financially independent by the end of the year. Yup, that’s right, no gas money, no nothing. I want to move out and I want to continue working toward my degree while at the same time working. Most importantly I want to continue believing in my talent and myself. Because, that is all we can really strive for…belief.
" I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope." - Red - Shawshank.
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies." - Andy - Shawshank.
I just got home from being poked prodded and watched while peeing in a cup (well almost watched.) I was not even aloud to flush the damn toilet until the nurse came in and took my cup of pee from me. That was nice.
So I start my new job, (my well paying, real ob with benefits) on the 20th of next week. What is it about the 20th? Everything new seems to happen on the 20th! I even started my last job on the 20th. So anyway I have a stack of papers and books to study and read and sign before I start. Apparently there is a lot paper work in hospital positions. Regardless of all this procedure I have to say I am damn excited to start this job. I am confident in it and once again I am confident in myself.
These last couple months of unemployment have been hard on me. However, I am thankful I went through it. I am thankful because I now know how important working is and how I improve upon myself so much when I am working. It is not just about the money and being financially independent. It is about the feeling of accomplishment. That, even though I am a whole person no matter what my circumstances are; even though I am already worthy because I am just me; I am only me improved when I work for something.
These past few months I have had a lot of time to think. Unfortunately when you have too much time to think you start to disbelieve everything you are thinking about. You start to not believe in yourself. The truth is, no matter what is going on around us we can believe in ourselves and we can believe we are worthy. We don’t need to make a certain amount of money to be worthy. We don’t need to look a certain way to be worthy. We don’t have to be better than someone else to be worthy. We are worthy just because of who we are. It took me a long time to realize that. It took going into the “hole” again and struggling to climb back out.
I wrote before how I was still not sure where I was going. At first, I felt inadequate because I am 23 and I still am unsure of my future endeavors. The truth is, who the hell knows where they are going? My brother was going to be a professor as of last year when he was going into his marriage. Now he has dumped that idea and is going back into the corporate world. My grandfather went though countless jobs until he found his ground at the age of 50! My mom had two children before she decided what she wanted to do. I have many friends who are still feeling their way around different dreams. At least now I have a grasp of what my talent is. Now all I have to do is improve upon that (good advice from a friend) and the pieces will fall where they are supposed to. For now, I am happy working at the hospital, bringing a smile to faces of women who might need the outside help. I am happy just being me…good and bad, confident and vulnerable, imperfect and yet perfect at the same time.
I have a few plans in mind. I want to be financially independent by the end of the year. Yup, that’s right, no gas money, no nothing. I want to move out and I want to continue working toward my degree while at the same time working. Most importantly I want to continue believing in my talent and myself. Because, that is all we can really strive for…belief.
" I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope." - Red - Shawshank.
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies." - Andy - Shawshank.
Why being employed is more than just making money...
I just got home from being poked prodded and watched while peeing in a cup (well almost watched.) I was not even aloud to flush the damn toilet until the nurse came in and took my cup of pee from me. That was nice.
So I start my new job, (my well paying, real ob with benefits) on the 20th of next week. What is it about the 20th? Everything new seems to happen on the 20th! I even started my last job on the 20th. So anyway I have a stack of papers and books to study and read and sign before I start. Apparently there is a lot paper work in hospital positions. Regardless of all this procedure I have to say I am damn excited to start this job. I am confident in it and once again I am confident in myself.
These last couple months of unemployment have been hard on me. However, I am thankful I went through it. I am thankful because I now know how important working is and how I improve upon myself so much when I am working. It is not just about the money and being financially independent. It is about the feeling of accomplishment. That, even though I am a whole person no matter what my circumstances are; even though I am already worthy because I am just me; I am only me improved when I work for something.
These past few months I have had a lot of time to think. Unfortunately when you have too much time to think you start to disbelieve everything you are thinking about. You start to not believe in yourself. The truth is, no matter what is going on around us we can believe in ourselves and we can believe we are worthy. We don’t need to make a certain amount of money to be worthy. We don’t need to look a certain way to be worthy. We don’t have to be better than someone else to be worthy. We are worthy just because of who we are. It took me a long time to realize that. It took going into the “hole” again and struggling to climb back out.
I wrote before how I was still not sure where I was going. At first, I felt inadequate because I am 23 and I still am unsure of my future endeavors. The truth is, who the hell knows where they are going? My brother was going to be a professor as of last year when he was going into his marriage. Now he has dumped that idea and is going back into the corporate world. My grandfather went though countless jobs until he found his ground at the age of 50! My mom had two children before she decided what she wanted to do. I have many friends who are still feeling their way around different dreams. At least now I have a grasp of what my talent is. Now all I have to do is improve upon that (good advice from a friend) and the pieces will fall where they are supposed to. For now, I am happy working at the hospital, bringing a smile to faces of women who might need the outside help. I am happy just being me…good and bad, confident and vulnerable, imperfect and yet perfect at the same time.
I have a few plans in mind. I want to be financially independent by the end of the year. Yup, that’s right, no gas money, no nothing. I want to move out and I want to continue working toward my degree while at the same time working. Most importantly I want to continue believing in my talent and myself. Because, that is all we can really strive for…belief.
" I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope." - Red - Shawshank.
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies." - Andy - Shawshank.
I just got home from being poked prodded and watched while peeing in a cup (well almost watched.) I was not even aloud to flush the damn toilet until the nurse came in and took my cup of pee from me. That was nice.
So I start my new job, (my well paying, real ob with benefits) on the 20th of next week. What is it about the 20th? Everything new seems to happen on the 20th! I even started my last job on the 20th. So anyway I have a stack of papers and books to study and read and sign before I start. Apparently there is a lot paper work in hospital positions. Regardless of all this procedure I have to say I am damn excited to start this job. I am confident in it and once again I am confident in myself.
These last couple months of unemployment have been hard on me. However, I am thankful I went through it. I am thankful because I now know how important working is and how I improve upon myself so much when I am working. It is not just about the money and being financially independent. It is about the feeling of accomplishment. That, even though I am a whole person no matter what my circumstances are; even though I am already worthy because I am just me; I am only me improved when I work for something.
These past few months I have had a lot of time to think. Unfortunately when you have too much time to think you start to disbelieve everything you are thinking about. You start to not believe in yourself. The truth is, no matter what is going on around us we can believe in ourselves and we can believe we are worthy. We don’t need to make a certain amount of money to be worthy. We don’t need to look a certain way to be worthy. We don’t have to be better than someone else to be worthy. We are worthy just because of who we are. It took me a long time to realize that. It took going into the “hole” again and struggling to climb back out.
I wrote before how I was still not sure where I was going. At first, I felt inadequate because I am 23 and I still am unsure of my future endeavors. The truth is, who the hell knows where they are going? My brother was going to be a professor as of last year when he was going into his marriage. Now he has dumped that idea and is going back into the corporate world. My grandfather went though countless jobs until he found his ground at the age of 50! My mom had two children before she decided what she wanted to do. I have many friends who are still feeling their way around different dreams. At least now I have a grasp of what my talent is. Now all I have to do is improve upon that (good advice from a friend) and the pieces will fall where they are supposed to. For now, I am happy working at the hospital, bringing a smile to faces of women who might need the outside help. I am happy just being me…good and bad, confident and vulnerable, imperfect and yet perfect at the same time.
I have a few plans in mind. I want to be financially independent by the end of the year. Yup, that’s right, no gas money, no nothing. I want to move out and I want to continue working toward my degree while at the same time working. Most importantly I want to continue believing in my talent and myself. Because, that is all we can really strive for…belief.
" I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope." - Red - Shawshank.
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies." - Andy - Shawshank.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Why do people love what they love?
My father is obsessed with Sherlock Holmes and biblical history. He has a stamp collection to rival most and is like a kid in a candy store at any model train retailer. My brother gets all warm and fuzzy when it comes to his computers, electronics and REM. My grandfather also treats anything electric like a toy. My boyfriend has a baseball card and memorabilia collection like none I have ever seen. He has enough magazines to cover his entire floor and Fox news is on 24 hours a day. My sister-in-law loves cats, cartoons and children’s books. Me? Well I get orgasmic over many a thing. I am an expert on all Buffy trivia. I have read certain books too many times to count (count of Monte Cristo, Hitchhiker’s Guide, Harry Potter, and anything Neil Gaiman). I love makeup and clothes and anything to do with philosophy and psychology. I believe music can change the soul. Was this all learned? Are we born with certain genes that tell us what we will have attachments to? Nature or Nurture? Perhaps if I play Beatles music 24 hours a day when I am pregnant one day I will give birth to a Beatle maniac. I happen to believe attachments to certain things or types of things is a good thing. I have to wonder though if these attachments are what make us who we are. Anyone that knows me knows what my attachments are. They define me. My musical taste defines me. My affinity for certain genres defines me. I know what “type” of people read Gaiman. I know what type of person loves Buffy the Vampire Slayer and listens to REM all day. Really, no matter how much one would try to hide it, what we love really does define who we are. Maybe people love what they love because they feel the need to be unique. One cannot simply state she is a Rachel or he is a Joe. In order to be unique one has to be “that guy” who is obsessed with….(fill in the blank here). However, at least it gives us something outside ourselves to be in love with. Essentially, loving Star Wars just might mean you are not a narcissist.
My father is obsessed with Sherlock Holmes and biblical history. He has a stamp collection to rival most and is like a kid in a candy store at any model train retailer. My brother gets all warm and fuzzy when it comes to his computers, electronics and REM. My grandfather also treats anything electric like a toy. My boyfriend has a baseball card and memorabilia collection like none I have ever seen. He has enough magazines to cover his entire floor and Fox news is on 24 hours a day. My sister-in-law loves cats, cartoons and children’s books. Me? Well I get orgasmic over many a thing. I am an expert on all Buffy trivia. I have read certain books too many times to count (count of Monte Cristo, Hitchhiker’s Guide, Harry Potter, and anything Neil Gaiman). I love makeup and clothes and anything to do with philosophy and psychology. I believe music can change the soul. Was this all learned? Are we born with certain genes that tell us what we will have attachments to? Nature or Nurture? Perhaps if I play Beatles music 24 hours a day when I am pregnant one day I will give birth to a Beatle maniac. I happen to believe attachments to certain things or types of things is a good thing. I have to wonder though if these attachments are what make us who we are. Anyone that knows me knows what my attachments are. They define me. My musical taste defines me. My affinity for certain genres defines me. I know what “type” of people read Gaiman. I know what type of person loves Buffy the Vampire Slayer and listens to REM all day. Really, no matter how much one would try to hide it, what we love really does define who we are. Maybe people love what they love because they feel the need to be unique. One cannot simply state she is a Rachel or he is a Joe. In order to be unique one has to be “that guy” who is obsessed with….(fill in the blank here). However, at least it gives us something outside ourselves to be in love with. Essentially, loving Star Wars just might mean you are not a narcissist.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
I applied for four jobs today. Someone has to bite. I also spoke with my counselor at school about what my plan is going to be for the next year. It is now official; my major is communications. Say goodbye to English. I figure it took Ethan 15 applications to get two bites so all I really have to do is keep throwing things out there and someone is going to play catch. I feel better though because at least SOMETHING is getting accomplished. I feel like the ball is finally rolling. I remember when Ethan went through his five months of pure hell, in the months right before his wedding no less. He was depressed and torn up and even had no job. I look at him now, getting through his masters and having people interested in him as an employee. I look at him now as happy and feeling good about himself and that gives me hope. It gives me hope about my future. I picture myself graduating with my degree and having people notice my work and my writing. I know there is a perfect job out there for me; maybe it just does not exist yet. I see people all around me getting jobs that seem to come out of nowhere. Ethan with the bites he is getting, my mother got her job after a big low point (losing ones job because a bunch of Arthur Anderson employees lied is a low point in my book), Josh becoming the editor of a magazine he used to write for for free, finally getting to kiss being a waiter goodbye…in a way it is like getting discovered. All you really have to do is put yourself out there, be aggressive to the point of annoying and someone will take you. I feel optimistic today. I have my points of insecurity that creep in but something inside me keeps shoving that away, telling me I am worth it and I am worth having it all. I am reminded of a prayer I know by heart. It is not really a prayer but rather a reminder one can say to him or herself whenever doubt creeps in. I used to have it by my bed so I could read it every morning when I woke up:
Good morning,
This is God.
I will be handling
All of your
Problems today.
I will not need
Your help, so have
A miraculous day.
And with that I leave the bad feelings behind and venture off to become whatever it is I am supposed to become.
Good morning,
This is God.
I will be handling
All of your
Problems today.
I will not need
Your help, so have
A miraculous day.
And with that I leave the bad feelings behind and venture off to become whatever it is I am supposed to become.
Take me out to the ballgame....
Last night I went with Josh to the first Angels game of the season. I have to admit; while I am no baseball geek I was pretty excited to go. My memories of Angels games stem all the way back when I was a young girl who had no clue what the game was about but rather went to have fun and get cotton candy. I know a little more now, not much mind you, but at least I know how the game is played. I can actually follow a game where as before it was a fun social event. So last night we went, my first opening game and my first game in about a year. Tamara Gray sang the national anthem that was capped off by two fighter planes flying overhead. Nothing could be cooler than that. The game was fun and, besides tennis, one of the only non-boring games out there. Now, in no way am I a sports freak but I have to give some sports some credit. Baseball is truly “America’s pastime.” It has been around and stuck around through everything. Tennis is the ultimate singles sport in my opinion. It is pure “Zen” meaning that to be great you have to have exceptional mental AND physical focus at the same time. With tennis everything has to be in sync. Hockey is another sport I can respect. Hockey is the sport where with no talent you just get killed, simple as that. Football and other napoleon complex sports are just something I can’t watch. It is like watching a bunch of animals see who can hit the other the hardest. It just seems too Neanderthal to me…but that’s just me.
Now last night, Josh explained to me the system behind batting averages. Now to me if someone averages at anything as less than half, they suck in my book. This was until I learned that anything above a 300 batting average was considered good and the actual record was somewhere around .406, which is still less than half! However, compared to everyone else, that average is exceptional. He explained that hitting a ball coming at you at 100mph with a stick is one of the hardest things to do in sports. While this is probably true, to prove my point, which I always need to do, I explained how hard it was to grab your leg up to your hear while making a 360 degree turn on the tip toe of the other foot, and doing that 360 rotation a total of three times without bringing your leg or your heel down. Of course, I was then told dancing is not a sport. Well, dear friends, dancing is a sport. However, I won’t get into that now. Bottom line is, parts of baseball impress me, and it is not just the cool hot dogs and ice cream in helmets. I guess I can appreciate the art surrounding the game. This does not mean I will follow the game; I am more of a spectator’s spectator. But, it does mean I get the passion that goes with it. Plus, the planes are just too cool.
P.S. No one has guessed any of my favorite songs. Either you are all stumped or just damn lazy!!
Last night I went with Josh to the first Angels game of the season. I have to admit; while I am no baseball geek I was pretty excited to go. My memories of Angels games stem all the way back when I was a young girl who had no clue what the game was about but rather went to have fun and get cotton candy. I know a little more now, not much mind you, but at least I know how the game is played. I can actually follow a game where as before it was a fun social event. So last night we went, my first opening game and my first game in about a year. Tamara Gray sang the national anthem that was capped off by two fighter planes flying overhead. Nothing could be cooler than that. The game was fun and, besides tennis, one of the only non-boring games out there. Now, in no way am I a sports freak but I have to give some sports some credit. Baseball is truly “America’s pastime.” It has been around and stuck around through everything. Tennis is the ultimate singles sport in my opinion. It is pure “Zen” meaning that to be great you have to have exceptional mental AND physical focus at the same time. With tennis everything has to be in sync. Hockey is another sport I can respect. Hockey is the sport where with no talent you just get killed, simple as that. Football and other napoleon complex sports are just something I can’t watch. It is like watching a bunch of animals see who can hit the other the hardest. It just seems too Neanderthal to me…but that’s just me.
Now last night, Josh explained to me the system behind batting averages. Now to me if someone averages at anything as less than half, they suck in my book. This was until I learned that anything above a 300 batting average was considered good and the actual record was somewhere around .406, which is still less than half! However, compared to everyone else, that average is exceptional. He explained that hitting a ball coming at you at 100mph with a stick is one of the hardest things to do in sports. While this is probably true, to prove my point, which I always need to do, I explained how hard it was to grab your leg up to your hear while making a 360 degree turn on the tip toe of the other foot, and doing that 360 rotation a total of three times without bringing your leg or your heel down. Of course, I was then told dancing is not a sport. Well, dear friends, dancing is a sport. However, I won’t get into that now. Bottom line is, parts of baseball impress me, and it is not just the cool hot dogs and ice cream in helmets. I guess I can appreciate the art surrounding the game. This does not mean I will follow the game; I am more of a spectator’s spectator. But, it does mean I get the passion that goes with it. Plus, the planes are just too cool.
P.S. No one has guessed any of my favorite songs. Either you are all stumped or just damn lazy!!
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
A little Game to pass the time...
A good idea from my friend Frannie’s blog (www.onthestarboard.com). I write down my top 20 bands and musicians and you try to guess what my favorite songs are by each. And away we go….
1. The Beatles
2. R.E.M
3. INXS
4. The Beach Boys
5. Gomez
6. Eels
7. Rufus Wainwright
8. Elliot Smith
9. The Verve
10. The Delgados
11. Radiohead
12. Tracy Chapman
13. The Decemberists
14. Travis
15. Simon and Garfunkel
16. Grant lee Phillips
17. Queen
18. Jackson Browne
19. Prince
20. Van Morrison
Happy guessing!!!
A good idea from my friend Frannie’s blog (www.onthestarboard.com). I write down my top 20 bands and musicians and you try to guess what my favorite songs are by each. And away we go….
1. The Beatles
2. R.E.M
3. INXS
4. The Beach Boys
5. Gomez
6. Eels
7. Rufus Wainwright
8. Elliot Smith
9. The Verve
10. The Delgados
11. Radiohead
12. Tracy Chapman
13. The Decemberists
14. Travis
15. Simon and Garfunkel
16. Grant lee Phillips
17. Queen
18. Jackson Browne
19. Prince
20. Van Morrison
Happy guessing!!!
Monday, April 04, 2005
Missing in Action
I have not written anything the past couple of weeks. I have been in a funk. A low point. I depressed, no fun, zone that I seem to be finally coming out of. I can’t say what exactly brought it on. Lets call it a snowball effect. One thing “seems” wrong and before you know it, you feel like this small insecure puddle. I did not have a job and the combination of feeling worthless from that mixed with too much time on my hands to over think everything and I was a weepy mess.
I went to the Starbucks job fair today and a prominent jewelry maker is interested in me doing some part time work. Both or none of these can work out but I am hoping for both. I am feeling better today…good in fact. I think I just started to take my own advice. I looked at what I have in my life. I have great parents, great friends and a great boyfriend. I have ideas and even if they are not reality yet, at least I have the ideas. I have a support system and I have, ehhh, great taste in music. ;) Sometimes we all get down in the slumps, but it is with the support we have we can get out of it ok. Here’s the thing though; we have to want to feel good in order to feel good. Sometimes we get comfortable feeling bad about ourselves and then we feel guilty for feeling bad and feel worse. We start a vicious cycle. Sometimes we just have to say, “some things are shitty, but some things are good…let’s focus on the good.” Insecurity and depression breeds’ insecurity and depression. It does not matter what it is about. No job. Your face breaking out. A friend pissing you off. There is only one way out…to climb out of the hole and slowly trek through the mud and soon you will be back to the state of mind you were before….happy. :)
I have not written anything the past couple of weeks. I have been in a funk. A low point. I depressed, no fun, zone that I seem to be finally coming out of. I can’t say what exactly brought it on. Lets call it a snowball effect. One thing “seems” wrong and before you know it, you feel like this small insecure puddle. I did not have a job and the combination of feeling worthless from that mixed with too much time on my hands to over think everything and I was a weepy mess.
I went to the Starbucks job fair today and a prominent jewelry maker is interested in me doing some part time work. Both or none of these can work out but I am hoping for both. I am feeling better today…good in fact. I think I just started to take my own advice. I looked at what I have in my life. I have great parents, great friends and a great boyfriend. I have ideas and even if they are not reality yet, at least I have the ideas. I have a support system and I have, ehhh, great taste in music. ;) Sometimes we all get down in the slumps, but it is with the support we have we can get out of it ok. Here’s the thing though; we have to want to feel good in order to feel good. Sometimes we get comfortable feeling bad about ourselves and then we feel guilty for feeling bad and feel worse. We start a vicious cycle. Sometimes we just have to say, “some things are shitty, but some things are good…let’s focus on the good.” Insecurity and depression breeds’ insecurity and depression. It does not matter what it is about. No job. Your face breaking out. A friend pissing you off. There is only one way out…to climb out of the hole and slowly trek through the mud and soon you will be back to the state of mind you were before….happy. :)
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