i couldn't sleep last night (until almost four), and i didn't remember until this morning that i could register for classes (seniors today, juniors tomorrow, etc.). Luckily none of my classes were full (like they'd fill up that fast), but it took me a little time to figure out which ones i needed to register (i had done that a month ago but apparently never saved the info to my flash drive, which is confusing, because i thought i had done it in the computer lab at school). So my class rundown for the upcoming fall is as follows:
ENGL 492 Seminar in Writing (work on my portfolio and focus on my specialty = fiction)
ENGL 421 Introduction to Literary Theory and Criticism
ENGL 381 Creative Writing: Fiction
(as i'm sure i've written in the past, i need two of these focused writing classes, but only one is being offered next semester; i hope to take Character & Narrative or Poetry next spring. i could take Expository and Persuasive Writing next semester instead, but that is geared towards writing non-fiction)
ENGL 296 Topics:Sci-Fi Fantasy (pretty self explanatory, as this is the genre i plan to write novels in)
KINA 168 Hatha Yoga & Relaxation I (because i'm stressed, and it schedules in gym time for me for the first half of the semester, and i'm curious)
On Friday i heard James Van Pelt and Jonathan Safran Foer speak at the Mesa State Writers Conference. It's really for high schoolers that may be applying at MSC next fall, but i found Van Pelt to be particularly inspiring (i was there to hear Foer). He's a sci fi writer that teaches English at Fruita High. The short story (or exerpt) he read was interesting and spoke volumes about him being a public school teacher. But what impacted me the most is the fact that he said if one writes 200 words a day then one can write a normal length novel in about a year and a half. Two hundred words a day is nothing, it's like half a page. i need to set aside time to write every day.
Unfortunately i will be in class five days a week again next semester and i doubt that my job at Hobby Lobby will be conducive with that.
Monday, March 30, 2009
so frustrating
i only ran one day last week, and it was on the elliptical. i have been so stressed out lately, so short on time, that i don't feel i can even make the time to workout, and it's both disheartening and beyond my full capacity to care about. i gained another pound last week. i'm working so hard and i gained a pound. Sure, it would be great to workout 3, 4, or 5 days a week, and i really am glad that i seem to be losing fat on my stomach, but is it too much to ask to drop in weight a bit?
So, as a result of being disheartened, i ate fast food a couple of times last week, which of course only contributes to the problem. i am so sick of fat and wish that i could just get under 200.
So, as a result of being disheartened, i ate fast food a couple of times last week, which of course only contributes to the problem. i am so sick of fat and wish that i could just get under 200.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
by and by spare a sigh
i... edited this for Creative Writing. Everyone brought three poems to class, cut them up into lines, mixed them up, and made poems. i really like how mine turned out for the most part. The poems that i brought were now does our world descend and when faces called flowers float out of the ground... by e.e. cummings and Parkour by Tenshinoshin on DeviantArt. It was hard to pick only three poems. This version includes links to all the original poems (it took me about an hour to google all of them).
by & by, nor spare a sigh
now does our world descend
for all debts public and private,
intact despite agitation;
Ever unreeling them--ever tirelessly speeding them.
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
turned upon themselves
And flaming brains are the white heart of all.
It is the blight man was born for,
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
stands on the grave of dreams
and die into the dirt.
Now shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
the band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
for the caged bird sings of Freedom,
Claspa rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named.
thy sons acclaim your glorious name
and you've heard
Over your obstacles, your rules
(now the mountains are dancing, the mountains)
Stay! though the woods are quiet.
Startled at the stillness
and, gleaming in the maelstrom,
And be one traveler, long I stood
once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
I set the controls, I pioneer
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
i cannot believe that i used lines from the Raven three times (after rejecting three times as many Raven lines, actually) and the Road Not Taken only once. The last poem seems pretty apt to me on several levels: i just read A Tale of Two Cities in Brit Lit a few weeks ago, i'm a knitter, and personally trying to believe:
now does our world descend
for all debts public and private,
intact despite agitation;
Ever unreeling them--ever tirelessly speeding them.
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
turned upon themselves
And flaming brains are the white heart of all.
It is the blight man was born for,
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
stands on the grave of dreams
and die into the dirt.
Now shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
the band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
for the caged bird sings of Freedom,
Claspa rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named.
thy sons acclaim your glorious name
and you've heard
Over your obstacles, your rules
(now the mountains are dancing, the mountains)
Stay! though the woods are quiet.
Startled at the stillness
and, gleaming in the maelstrom,
And be one traveler, long I stood
once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
I set the controls, I pioneer
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
i cannot believe that i used lines from the Raven three times (after rejecting three times as many Raven lines, actually) and the Road Not Taken only once. The last poem seems pretty apt to me on several levels: i just read A Tale of Two Cities in Brit Lit a few weeks ago, i'm a knitter, and personally trying to believe:
Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
Monday, March 23, 2009
never save anything for the swim back (Vincent, in Gattaca)
Should be studying for my Brit Lit midterm but i can't really bring myself to care. i wrote Brad a couple of days ago, again last night, and feel torn about re-opening channels with him. i feel like i'm being dumb, but it's what a small piece of me has always wanted... to get a happy ending with him. The irony is that i am actually seeing the possibility of some life choices that probably would not be compatible with being with him (perhaps anyone). Even talking about this is stupid, i don't even know that he's interested or worth pursuing. i'm just remembering what it was like to start getting to know him, when i realized that i could be happy with a simple life on a farm, with giving up my dreams of being an actress. i have no overwhelming desire for fame for its own sake, or riches to squander; i just feel the overwhelming need to write, and any excess that i find myself blessed with would go to those less fortunate than myself.
i'm so tired, i guess i probably always just saw Brad as an out, a rescue, a knight in shining armor if ever i had such delusions, but then... he never seemed to want to fit that bill.
i'm so tired, i guess i probably always just saw Brad as an out, a rescue, a knight in shining armor if ever i had such delusions, but then... he never seemed to want to fit that bill.
Friday, March 20, 2009
i've been thinking
It's not really fair of me to try to label Brad's feelings when he isn't capable of or chooses not to express them to me. Unfortunately, he is the only boyfriend i've ever had, and our relationship was not exactly a conventional one. i lack the experience to handle the complexities of our interactions in a wise manner. It really puts me at a disadvantage when someone who is five years younger than me has more relationship experience than i have yet still chooses to act like a child. Still, it is not as if i am completely innocent in the matter, seeing how i threw myself at him when he was sending exponential signals that he wasn't even really interested.
This is why all i have ever wanted is to have a relationship with one man that is the right man for me, marry him, and not have to waste my time on the dating game. i don't believe in the war of the sexes and will never be able to do well at it had i wanted to participate in the first place.
This is why all i have ever wanted is to have a relationship with one man that is the right man for me, marry him, and not have to waste my time on the dating game. i don't believe in the war of the sexes and will never be able to do well at it had i wanted to participate in the first place.
drained... and stuck in my head
Well there was finally an e-mail today from the people who organized the 9 12 Project meetup, and they have been working on a website, so that is a relief. There is so much i wanted to write about yesterday afternoon while i was at work, so much that i heard on the radio that i wanted to respond to. i hardly recognize this country anymore.
Today i am exhausted, and don't remember or care to write about any of it. i'm so ready for the weekend, but of course even the weekend doesn't bring any rest. i've been praying, but then that doesn't bring any answers either.
Lately i have been thinking about Brad. For a while there was nothing i could think of to endear myself to him, there was nothing that i liked about him anymore. Now i don't know, i hardly remember what it was like to talk to him face to face. We had a lot of problems, there were a lot of things that i didn't like about our relationship that i couldn't change, and i don't want to be in a relationship where i want to change the man i'm with. But i would be lying if i said that i never loved him, that i do not still love him. i've been listening to a lot of music from while we were together, right after we separated, and i can still feel that. To be perfectly honest i don't know what to do about it. A part of me wants to reconnect with him, to try to patch things up, because i still love him, but i have a feeling that it would never work. i don't think that he loves me, he is closed off. The way he treated me is not the way a person treats someone that they love.
i have been abandoned quite literally, first by him, now by my sister and online "friends." i feel like i am getting nowhere in WoW, the leaders of the guild never schedule raids when i can be online, i'm now working an extra day a week, so instead of things getting easier they're getting even harder. i cannot keep doing this, i cannot sustain this. i don't know what to choose for my research paper for American Lit, i don't know how to do all my homework while i'm working, i can't find time to get on WoW, i don't get enough sleep, i don't have the time or energy to run, my life is a mess.
Brad used me; whenever he got drunk he would get depressed and come unload on Megan or me. i'm not saying that i don't care about what he's going through, but in the same token i have never been allowed to share what my needs are because he would just shut me down and ignore me. Every time i hear about how he's doing, he's still acting childish, he still seems to want to use me instead of share a life or even friendship. i can dream of what could have been, but rationally i have no reason to believe that such a future is even possible.
i keep thinking about Evanescence's Lithium: she sings about trying not to forget how she found herself when she was in the dark, how she doesn't want to let go of that as she gets "healthy." A perfect picture of my relationship with Brad is their song "Call Me When You're Sober." But when i listen to Ingrid Michaelson's "Die Alone," the lyrics say "don't be a fool girl ~ tell him you love him ~ don't be a fool girl ~ you're not above him," and i'm wondering if i'm just being a fool, if i'm too proud to forgive him for how he hurt me. i want to forgive him, even though he did the unthinkable. i don't know if that says more about me in terms of mercy or pure desperation.
Then there's the song i heard on K-Love earlier this week: "why are you looking for love ~ why are you still searching as if I'm not enough ~ to where will you go child ~ tell me where will you run ~ to where will you run." It's hard for me to listen to the mockery contained in a lyric like that; i fully believe it even while it's not apparent or "true" in my own life. i don't know how to look for / run to God anymore, i don't know how to pray to Him, because i never get any response. i have to be honest in my prayers, or i get a niggling of guilt, and i would rather "cover my hand with my mouth" than continue begging Him to respond.
In spiritual terms, i am not running anywhere, i cannot even get off the ground. i alternate between prostrating myself on the ground before Him and trying to crawl in the direction i think He must be. But what do i know? When it's pitch black because you're blind and utterly silent because you're deaf and you're in the midst of sensory deprivation then what do you have to go on? Spiritually that is where i am, for all i know i am caged, or falling through an abyss, because i might as well be when He does not respond or lead. He doesn't fulfill the promises He gave in the Bible, but maybe i shouldn't assume that those promises are meant for me, maybe they are only meant for the people He gave them to. i don't dwell on these things, because i don't want to be angry at God, i don't want to be blasphemous in my truth, i don't have the luxury of collapsing under the burden i carry, with no relief in sight, and i don't have the luxury of sitting back and waiting for Him to rescue me. A part of me wonders what the point of waiting is after a decade, whether He ever will come back to me (i always have felt in a sense like this is a sick, twisted version of the prodigal son)... but then i have to remember that i'm nothing without Him, that i can't do this on my own, and that's the entire reason my entire life has been so bad for the past decade, where all my tries have failed.
So what's the point of trying at all? Of course, what am i going to do, wander around in the desert like John the Baptist or run from coast to coast like Forest Gump? i don't ignore my life like that. We are meant to strive, we are meant to pursue, if i cease to do that then i cease to be. i don't know if i have already been destroyed in the fire, that's the way it feels, as if i have been melted away with the dross, but i have to have faith that God knows what He's doing in my life.
"Anything is better than to be alone"... she sings about forgiveness. i came to that a long time ago, i'm not mad anymore. Yet coming to what seems like it would be a life-shattering and -changing choice has changed nothing at all. i'm still in the same place. i never reach decisions or realizations that change everything. And i wonder if it's as simple as in the song Lithium, if i can just choose to let go of the darkness, of course she also singing about only knowing herself in the dark. And a part of me would rather have the dark, and a place where i can be honest with myself, than all the superficial things that i am striving for. i'd rather have spiritual and emotional truth than an empty life that is "successful." i like myself the way i am, angry about corrupt politicians, striving to make myself a better person, desperately wanting to fly in the face of authority but restraining myself as to not offend.
It's so funny, i'm always trying not to offend other people and no one gives a care about offending me... they do it all the time unapologetically. People treat me like something stuck on the bottom of their shoe, are rude, and it's construed as my fault, my problem. i keep remembering what my mother told me as a child, that it's rude to tell someone that they're being rude... Why is that? Wouldn't it be better to be honest, to call them out on their utter b.s., than to put up with it?
Succumbing to politics because the example fits: on Boortz this morning was a former adviser of Margaret Thatcher's, Christopher Monckton. He was talking about Global Warming, how Al Gore won't respond to his challenge to a debate, how the thermometers that are monitoring the huge "rise" in temperatures are purposefully positioned next to manmade machines and urban developments that will artificially raise the temperature, how the scientists have manipulated the figures from decades ago in order to make their findings appear legit. These scientists are perpetrating a gigantic hoax for fame and glory. He has found 35 errors in An Inconvenient Truth. So, are Boortz and Monckton wrong to call these people liars? That's what they are, and so many people believe them.
i think that one of the biggest problems with out country right now is that the people who know the truth are silenced. It isn't socially acceptable to be the voice of dissent, to not be politically correct, and as a result so many people are simply ignorant of the truth. Take that video i posted yesterday: with everything that Congress has done in this year alone, how are we not marching to DC right now? It's insanity. We're letting them get away with things that are illegal. What are we going to do about it? Anyway, that's what i'be been trying to figure out.
Today i am exhausted, and don't remember or care to write about any of it. i'm so ready for the weekend, but of course even the weekend doesn't bring any rest. i've been praying, but then that doesn't bring any answers either.
Lately i have been thinking about Brad. For a while there was nothing i could think of to endear myself to him, there was nothing that i liked about him anymore. Now i don't know, i hardly remember what it was like to talk to him face to face. We had a lot of problems, there were a lot of things that i didn't like about our relationship that i couldn't change, and i don't want to be in a relationship where i want to change the man i'm with. But i would be lying if i said that i never loved him, that i do not still love him. i've been listening to a lot of music from while we were together, right after we separated, and i can still feel that. To be perfectly honest i don't know what to do about it. A part of me wants to reconnect with him, to try to patch things up, because i still love him, but i have a feeling that it would never work. i don't think that he loves me, he is closed off. The way he treated me is not the way a person treats someone that they love.
i have been abandoned quite literally, first by him, now by my sister and online "friends." i feel like i am getting nowhere in WoW, the leaders of the guild never schedule raids when i can be online, i'm now working an extra day a week, so instead of things getting easier they're getting even harder. i cannot keep doing this, i cannot sustain this. i don't know what to choose for my research paper for American Lit, i don't know how to do all my homework while i'm working, i can't find time to get on WoW, i don't get enough sleep, i don't have the time or energy to run, my life is a mess.
Brad used me; whenever he got drunk he would get depressed and come unload on Megan or me. i'm not saying that i don't care about what he's going through, but in the same token i have never been allowed to share what my needs are because he would just shut me down and ignore me. Every time i hear about how he's doing, he's still acting childish, he still seems to want to use me instead of share a life or even friendship. i can dream of what could have been, but rationally i have no reason to believe that such a future is even possible.
i keep thinking about Evanescence's Lithium: she sings about trying not to forget how she found herself when she was in the dark, how she doesn't want to let go of that as she gets "healthy." A perfect picture of my relationship with Brad is their song "Call Me When You're Sober." But when i listen to Ingrid Michaelson's "Die Alone," the lyrics say "don't be a fool girl ~ tell him you love him ~ don't be a fool girl ~ you're not above him," and i'm wondering if i'm just being a fool, if i'm too proud to forgive him for how he hurt me. i want to forgive him, even though he did the unthinkable. i don't know if that says more about me in terms of mercy or pure desperation.
Then there's the song i heard on K-Love earlier this week: "why are you looking for love ~ why are you still searching as if I'm not enough ~ to where will you go child ~ tell me where will you run ~ to where will you run." It's hard for me to listen to the mockery contained in a lyric like that; i fully believe it even while it's not apparent or "true" in my own life. i don't know how to look for / run to God anymore, i don't know how to pray to Him, because i never get any response. i have to be honest in my prayers, or i get a niggling of guilt, and i would rather "cover my hand with my mouth" than continue begging Him to respond.
In spiritual terms, i am not running anywhere, i cannot even get off the ground. i alternate between prostrating myself on the ground before Him and trying to crawl in the direction i think He must be. But what do i know? When it's pitch black because you're blind and utterly silent because you're deaf and you're in the midst of sensory deprivation then what do you have to go on? Spiritually that is where i am, for all i know i am caged, or falling through an abyss, because i might as well be when He does not respond or lead. He doesn't fulfill the promises He gave in the Bible, but maybe i shouldn't assume that those promises are meant for me, maybe they are only meant for the people He gave them to. i don't dwell on these things, because i don't want to be angry at God, i don't want to be blasphemous in my truth, i don't have the luxury of collapsing under the burden i carry, with no relief in sight, and i don't have the luxury of sitting back and waiting for Him to rescue me. A part of me wonders what the point of waiting is after a decade, whether He ever will come back to me (i always have felt in a sense like this is a sick, twisted version of the prodigal son)... but then i have to remember that i'm nothing without Him, that i can't do this on my own, and that's the entire reason my entire life has been so bad for the past decade, where all my tries have failed.
So what's the point of trying at all? Of course, what am i going to do, wander around in the desert like John the Baptist or run from coast to coast like Forest Gump? i don't ignore my life like that. We are meant to strive, we are meant to pursue, if i cease to do that then i cease to be. i don't know if i have already been destroyed in the fire, that's the way it feels, as if i have been melted away with the dross, but i have to have faith that God knows what He's doing in my life.
"Anything is better than to be alone"... she sings about forgiveness. i came to that a long time ago, i'm not mad anymore. Yet coming to what seems like it would be a life-shattering and -changing choice has changed nothing at all. i'm still in the same place. i never reach decisions or realizations that change everything. And i wonder if it's as simple as in the song Lithium, if i can just choose to let go of the darkness, of course she also singing about only knowing herself in the dark. And a part of me would rather have the dark, and a place where i can be honest with myself, than all the superficial things that i am striving for. i'd rather have spiritual and emotional truth than an empty life that is "successful." i like myself the way i am, angry about corrupt politicians, striving to make myself a better person, desperately wanting to fly in the face of authority but restraining myself as to not offend.
It's so funny, i'm always trying not to offend other people and no one gives a care about offending me... they do it all the time unapologetically. People treat me like something stuck on the bottom of their shoe, are rude, and it's construed as my fault, my problem. i keep remembering what my mother told me as a child, that it's rude to tell someone that they're being rude... Why is that? Wouldn't it be better to be honest, to call them out on their utter b.s., than to put up with it?
Succumbing to politics because the example fits: on Boortz this morning was a former adviser of Margaret Thatcher's, Christopher Monckton. He was talking about Global Warming, how Al Gore won't respond to his challenge to a debate, how the thermometers that are monitoring the huge "rise" in temperatures are purposefully positioned next to manmade machines and urban developments that will artificially raise the temperature, how the scientists have manipulated the figures from decades ago in order to make their findings appear legit. These scientists are perpetrating a gigantic hoax for fame and glory. He has found 35 errors in An Inconvenient Truth. So, are Boortz and Monckton wrong to call these people liars? That's what they are, and so many people believe them.
i think that one of the biggest problems with out country right now is that the people who know the truth are silenced. It isn't socially acceptable to be the voice of dissent, to not be politically correct, and as a result so many people are simply ignorant of the truth. Take that video i posted yesterday: with everything that Congress has done in this year alone, how are we not marching to DC right now? It's insanity. We're letting them get away with things that are illegal. What are we going to do about it? Anyway, that's what i'be been trying to figure out.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
judge rules against homeschooling mother in NC
Heard about this the day before yesterday on the Glenn Beck program as i recall. Immediately felt sick, about on the same level of nausea that i experienced while my professor was covering a Modest Proposal last semester.
So, the short version is that a mother is getting divorced because her husband committed adultery repeatedly and that she homeschools her three children. Her ex-husband doesn't like the fact that she uses the Bible and teaches creationism, and guess what, neither does the judge. Two of the children test at two grade levels above their current grade, the third is testing fine at his or her own grade level, the judge wants them to be socialized (even though they socialize with other homeschoolers) and for their spiritual beliefs to be challenged. And of course the judge was appointed by a Democrat and is pushing his own agenda even though it's illegal.
three news articles:
NC Judge Orders Mom to Send Homeschoolers to Public School for Exposure to "Real World"
Wake judge orders home schoolers into public classrooms
NC Judge Orders Homeschool Mother to Put Kids in Public School
a blog written by a friend of the mother:
Homeschool Injustice
So, the short version is that a mother is getting divorced because her husband committed adultery repeatedly and that she homeschools her three children. Her ex-husband doesn't like the fact that she uses the Bible and teaches creationism, and guess what, neither does the judge. Two of the children test at two grade levels above their current grade, the third is testing fine at his or her own grade level, the judge wants them to be socialized (even though they socialize with other homeschoolers) and for their spiritual beliefs to be challenged. And of course the judge was appointed by a Democrat and is pushing his own agenda even though it's illegal.
three news articles:
NC Judge Orders Mom to Send Homeschoolers to Public School for Exposure to "Real World"
Wake judge orders home schoolers into public classrooms
NC Judge Orders Homeschool Mother to Put Kids in Public School
a blog written by a friend of the mother:
Homeschool Injustice
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
overwhelmed...
Spring break was heinous. One of the cashiers had a death in the family and i was expected to work full time... i had a ton of homework (most of it didn't get done) and the worst allergies that i've ever experienced in my entire life. On Friday i went to the local We Surround Them meetup, which i have mixed feelings about. i was not very inspired by the show, though it was nice to see other people that feel the same way i do about where this country is going (for the most part). However, i feel let down that nothing has happened yet. People talked about meeting once a month, starting small groups and growing, getting in touch electronically somehow... nothing has happened so far as i can tell. It's hard for me to reconcile that it's been less than a week after all i've been through the past few days and all the Obama administration is doing to destroy this country.
Last week, i started taking a new allergy medication, which made me hyper for two days, and then i eventually crashed, which made me a bit depressed. i'm doing a bit better now, but it has been a very foggy week. i am excited about several things that i'm considering pursuing, but realistically i am having a hard time getting up on time, getting to class, do the work, etc. i am soooo ready to quit work... and school really. It's just so hard. Once again, work seems more counterproductive than helpful, and school mostly seems that way, too. i feel like my entire life has been stalled by the expectation / necessity for me to work pointless jobs and get a degree. i'm not progressing at work, i'm not happy, i don't have time to pursue the things i love, the things that matter. It's the same thing in school, i mostly feel as if i am not learning anything worthwhile and that absolutely no one that is there would agree with my political beliefs. i want to connect with other students, i want to do something, but i have no idea how to do that. i am hard pressed to stay on task enough to get good grades, must confess that i am not wholeheartedly throwing myself into my work, am trying to just skate by, because--once again--what we're covering in class seems pointless. i am surrounded by opposing views constantly and not allowed to respond, everything i say in Brit Lit is "wrong" (this from the teacher who claims in his syllabus that there are no wrong answers), American Lit is liberal, Creative Writing (while i love the teacher) is below my level, busy work, simply a prerequisite, and Brit Rom feels very shallow and disjointed.
If i were to quit school i would be in debt, have to start paying within six months, and still have no prospects for a better job. i don't have the time to write or create anything valuable, anything marketable, anything worthwhile, and that seems like a cop out (i should be doing so much better), but it's so very true. i do not know how to cope, let alone thrive. i am so tired of trying so hard and getting nowhere. i don't know what to do, i am still stuck in the same place that i was in ten years ago, and i've fought really hard. What is the point in trying if you get nowhere? Not that i can give up, but it's very discouraging. Even in a level mood i sound so depressed lol.
i'm so sick of qqing / complaining but have no idea how to find solutions. Nothing is in my control, i am at the mercy of things around me that are out for my failure. i am a backwards capitalist, i don't care about making a lot of money or being rich, i just want to support myself (comfortably preferably, but getting by on my own two feet would be a welcome start), i have no means of doing so. i feel as if i am at a dead end before i have even started (still in the cage as it were). i should be doing homework, gah.
Last week, i started taking a new allergy medication, which made me hyper for two days, and then i eventually crashed, which made me a bit depressed. i'm doing a bit better now, but it has been a very foggy week. i am excited about several things that i'm considering pursuing, but realistically i am having a hard time getting up on time, getting to class, do the work, etc. i am soooo ready to quit work... and school really. It's just so hard. Once again, work seems more counterproductive than helpful, and school mostly seems that way, too. i feel like my entire life has been stalled by the expectation / necessity for me to work pointless jobs and get a degree. i'm not progressing at work, i'm not happy, i don't have time to pursue the things i love, the things that matter. It's the same thing in school, i mostly feel as if i am not learning anything worthwhile and that absolutely no one that is there would agree with my political beliefs. i want to connect with other students, i want to do something, but i have no idea how to do that. i am hard pressed to stay on task enough to get good grades, must confess that i am not wholeheartedly throwing myself into my work, am trying to just skate by, because--once again--what we're covering in class seems pointless. i am surrounded by opposing views constantly and not allowed to respond, everything i say in Brit Lit is "wrong" (this from the teacher who claims in his syllabus that there are no wrong answers), American Lit is liberal, Creative Writing (while i love the teacher) is below my level, busy work, simply a prerequisite, and Brit Rom feels very shallow and disjointed.
If i were to quit school i would be in debt, have to start paying within six months, and still have no prospects for a better job. i don't have the time to write or create anything valuable, anything marketable, anything worthwhile, and that seems like a cop out (i should be doing so much better), but it's so very true. i do not know how to cope, let alone thrive. i am so tired of trying so hard and getting nowhere. i don't know what to do, i am still stuck in the same place that i was in ten years ago, and i've fought really hard. What is the point in trying if you get nowhere? Not that i can give up, but it's very discouraging. Even in a level mood i sound so depressed lol.
i'm so sick of qqing / complaining but have no idea how to find solutions. Nothing is in my control, i am at the mercy of things around me that are out for my failure. i am a backwards capitalist, i don't care about making a lot of money or being rich, i just want to support myself (comfortably preferably, but getting by on my own two feet would be a welcome start), i have no means of doing so. i feel as if i am at a dead end before i have even started (still in the cage as it were). i should be doing homework, gah.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Lifeless Change (response 2 for US Lit 2)
William Carlos Williams was a working doctor (Baym 832), which would leave one to believe that he thinks more analytically than many other artists, but of course that meshed well with the Modern period he was writing in, which sought: “order, sequence, and unity in works of art” (712). As a doctor, “the sickness and suffering he saw…entered into his poetry” (833); undoubtedly he would have seen a lot of death in his line of work and because average life expectancy was shorter at the beginning of his career than at the end of his life. However, he also saw a lot of life and new beginnings: as a pediatrician “he delivered more than two thousand babies” (832). Though his poems are not autobiographical (833), no one can write poetry without bringing something of their life to the work: some of Williams’ poems tend to be dark, while others look at the world with almost an innocent point of view.
“The Young Housewife” focuses on a young woman whose life has a dubious conclusion. The poem does not rhyme, is composed of twelve lines in three stanzas of varying lengths, and is incredibly short. More questions are asked than answered here. The poem contains elements of “the mixed belittlement-adoration accorded [women] by men” (832): the narrator seems to be in awe of her “shy, uncorseted, tucking in / stray ends of hair” (Williams 833) and simultaneously have a macabre view of her. The driver “compare[s] her to a fallen leaf” (833) and then runs over leaves. Upon my first reading I was left feeling slightly shocked: did he run over her? Was the bow of his head a sign of respect or was he feeling murderous as he “pass[ed] smiling” (834)? I read this poem to my mother and a sister and they had the same interpretation. There isn’t an answer to these questions within the poem itself: they are open ended. In one moment the narrator appears to be respectful, and in the next he is thoughtlessly running over the leaves (or her). Even if he isn’t committing vehicular manslaughter he has just compared her to something that he doesn’t hesitate to crush, perhaps Williams only meant this as a juxtaposition of his musings. It seems fairly clear, however, that any driver in 1916 most likely would have disapproved of a young woman running around in her nightgown to see men at the front door, especially at ten in the morning, but the line “then again she comes to the curb” (833) makes it seem that she does this often and that he likes to drive by for the show, which makes him sound even more menacing because he didn’t just thoughtlessly run over her, he’s been stalking her.
“Spring and All” runs like one long run on sentence and is the longest assigned poem of Williams’. Once again, there is no rhyme scheme, as seems to be common for this poet. The beginning starts off very dreary; it is obvious that winter is holding on, and everything has a whisper of death upon it, from the “contagious hospital” to the “small trees / with dead, brown leaves under them / leafless vines” (836). The transition comes in the middle of the poem, in lines 14-15 when “Lifeless in appearance, sluggish / dazed spring approaches” (836). Suddenly the dreariness and despair is broken with new hope. Lines 16-18 bring to mind the fact that he is a doctor that delivered babies when he wrote: “They enter the new world naked, / cold, uncertain of all / save that they enter” (836). Upon first reading this poem was confusing and seemed dark, owing to the bleakly descriptive words Williams used, but the stanzas break it up for the reader so as not to overwhelm, and the poem ends on a very positive note with terminology that reinforces the temporal nature of winter in the life cycle of a plant: “the profound change / has come upon them: rooted, they / grip down and begin to awaken” (836).
“The Red Wheelbarrow” is very short: only eight lines. It has no punctuation or capitalization, which immediately puts me in mind of e.e. cummings. The subject of this poem is very every day, not depressing at all, and could seem dull, but his word play holds the reader’s interest. Each stanza is composed of two lines, the first line being three words long, with a thought completed by the one word on the second line. The entire poem could be considered to be one sentence, short and simple, but the arrangement of the words causes the reader to pause and consider. “So much depends upon a red wheelbarrow” just does not read the same way, the line breaks are part of the poem’s meaning.
“This Is Just to Say” reads like a note that a husband would leave for his wife. I had to laugh, and read it to my mother: she said she would be annoyed with my father if he left her a note like that. Once again, Williams uses carefully placed line breaks, and no punctuation, though the first letter of stanzas one and three are capitalized because they begin the poem’s two apparent sentences. Interestingly, the narrator writes “forgive me” but does not seem to be very repentant (839); his concluding observation, “they were delicious / so sweet / and so cold,” rather seems to be rubbing in the fact that he enjoyed the fruit alone (839).
To Williams, “rhythm within the line, and linking one line to another, was the heart of the poetic craft” (Baym 833); that concept is clear in all four of these poems. One of these poems reflects on nature, but he did not use the same methods that the Naturalists did, he wrote with a different voice entirely that is thoughtful and sometimes confusing. He saw the world in a different way than his predecessors, and so he wrote about it in a different way as well. He was living in a time in which questions didn’t always have answers, and this comes through in his writing. It is my opinion that, whether he was writing about the simple or the abstract, he was very successful at finding the rhythm at the heart and linking it to the reader.
“The Young Housewife” focuses on a young woman whose life has a dubious conclusion. The poem does not rhyme, is composed of twelve lines in three stanzas of varying lengths, and is incredibly short. More questions are asked than answered here. The poem contains elements of “the mixed belittlement-adoration accorded [women] by men” (832): the narrator seems to be in awe of her “shy, uncorseted, tucking in / stray ends of hair” (Williams 833) and simultaneously have a macabre view of her. The driver “compare[s] her to a fallen leaf” (833) and then runs over leaves. Upon my first reading I was left feeling slightly shocked: did he run over her? Was the bow of his head a sign of respect or was he feeling murderous as he “pass[ed] smiling” (834)? I read this poem to my mother and a sister and they had the same interpretation. There isn’t an answer to these questions within the poem itself: they are open ended. In one moment the narrator appears to be respectful, and in the next he is thoughtlessly running over the leaves (or her). Even if he isn’t committing vehicular manslaughter he has just compared her to something that he doesn’t hesitate to crush, perhaps Williams only meant this as a juxtaposition of his musings. It seems fairly clear, however, that any driver in 1916 most likely would have disapproved of a young woman running around in her nightgown to see men at the front door, especially at ten in the morning, but the line “then again she comes to the curb” (833) makes it seem that she does this often and that he likes to drive by for the show, which makes him sound even more menacing because he didn’t just thoughtlessly run over her, he’s been stalking her.
“Spring and All” runs like one long run on sentence and is the longest assigned poem of Williams’. Once again, there is no rhyme scheme, as seems to be common for this poet. The beginning starts off very dreary; it is obvious that winter is holding on, and everything has a whisper of death upon it, from the “contagious hospital” to the “small trees / with dead, brown leaves under them / leafless vines” (836). The transition comes in the middle of the poem, in lines 14-15 when “Lifeless in appearance, sluggish / dazed spring approaches” (836). Suddenly the dreariness and despair is broken with new hope. Lines 16-18 bring to mind the fact that he is a doctor that delivered babies when he wrote: “They enter the new world naked, / cold, uncertain of all / save that they enter” (836). Upon first reading this poem was confusing and seemed dark, owing to the bleakly descriptive words Williams used, but the stanzas break it up for the reader so as not to overwhelm, and the poem ends on a very positive note with terminology that reinforces the temporal nature of winter in the life cycle of a plant: “the profound change / has come upon them: rooted, they / grip down and begin to awaken” (836).
“The Red Wheelbarrow” is very short: only eight lines. It has no punctuation or capitalization, which immediately puts me in mind of e.e. cummings. The subject of this poem is very every day, not depressing at all, and could seem dull, but his word play holds the reader’s interest. Each stanza is composed of two lines, the first line being three words long, with a thought completed by the one word on the second line. The entire poem could be considered to be one sentence, short and simple, but the arrangement of the words causes the reader to pause and consider. “So much depends upon a red wheelbarrow” just does not read the same way, the line breaks are part of the poem’s meaning.
“This Is Just to Say” reads like a note that a husband would leave for his wife. I had to laugh, and read it to my mother: she said she would be annoyed with my father if he left her a note like that. Once again, Williams uses carefully placed line breaks, and no punctuation, though the first letter of stanzas one and three are capitalized because they begin the poem’s two apparent sentences. Interestingly, the narrator writes “forgive me” but does not seem to be very repentant (839); his concluding observation, “they were delicious / so sweet / and so cold,” rather seems to be rubbing in the fact that he enjoyed the fruit alone (839).
To Williams, “rhythm within the line, and linking one line to another, was the heart of the poetic craft” (Baym 833); that concept is clear in all four of these poems. One of these poems reflects on nature, but he did not use the same methods that the Naturalists did, he wrote with a different voice entirely that is thoughtful and sometimes confusing. He saw the world in a different way than his predecessors, and so he wrote about it in a different way as well. He was living in a time in which questions didn’t always have answers, and this comes through in his writing. It is my opinion that, whether he was writing about the simple or the abstract, he was very successful at finding the rhythm at the heart and linking it to the reader.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Cto5k W7D3... complete!
So on Monday i ran in front of the house, and it really took it out of me. i forgot how hard it is to run on hills and gravel (no matter how small those hills are). i was so knocked out, i had to stop and walk for a minute at the halfway point, and barely finished the run. i felt really weak afterward, like i had just climbed out of a pool after swimming for hours. i'm not entirely sure how accurate the map is at MapMyRun.com is for this route: surely it's longer than the 1.5 miles it claims i ran yesterday. i need to drive it to double check the distance.
Tuesday i was so sore; i could feel it every time i tried to sit up straighter in my desk in class or had to kneel down to get a paper bag at work.
The high yesterday was 72, today it's 69 and the windiest conditions that i've run in for quite a while. i woke up with a sore throat and slight cough, almost overslept, and am still a little sore. i wanted to push to 9 laps today, for 2.7 miles, but i didn't make it. i ran 8 laps for 2.4 mi., pausing at the end of 3 and 6 for a couple of gulps of water. It was really hard today, partly because of the heat, partially because i was running directly against the wind half of the time. Even though i had the pauses Monday and today i plan to move on to week 8 and try to stick to the track. So on Friday i'll start week 8, on which the forecast calls for cooler weather.
i plan on buying allergy stuff on Friday. Over the past week i had a sinus headache on and off, not my worst by any means, but certainly over my longest stretch ever. Yesterday during my work lunch (around 4:40 p.m.) i bought a 20oz. Coca-Cola at BigLots and my headache immediately went away. i drank part then and part after work and my headache has no signs of returning. i've always suspected that drinking Coke made me feel better and has pain killing properties, but it's kind of crazy for it to be proved to be the case. i hadn't had a Coke in a loooooonnnnnnggggg time.
i have to write a paper for U.S. Lit. tonight, we're having a party for Polly, and of course there's Lost. i still haven't been able to fix my computer, but i'm still working on it... i'm not the most computer literate person in the world.
Tuesday i was so sore; i could feel it every time i tried to sit up straighter in my desk in class or had to kneel down to get a paper bag at work.
The high yesterday was 72, today it's 69 and the windiest conditions that i've run in for quite a while. i woke up with a sore throat and slight cough, almost overslept, and am still a little sore. i wanted to push to 9 laps today, for 2.7 miles, but i didn't make it. i ran 8 laps for 2.4 mi., pausing at the end of 3 and 6 for a couple of gulps of water. It was really hard today, partly because of the heat, partially because i was running directly against the wind half of the time. Even though i had the pauses Monday and today i plan to move on to week 8 and try to stick to the track. So on Friday i'll start week 8, on which the forecast calls for cooler weather.
i plan on buying allergy stuff on Friday. Over the past week i had a sinus headache on and off, not my worst by any means, but certainly over my longest stretch ever. Yesterday during my work lunch (around 4:40 p.m.) i bought a 20oz. Coca-Cola at BigLots and my headache immediately went away. i drank part then and part after work and my headache has no signs of returning. i've always suspected that drinking Coke made me feel better and has pain killing properties, but it's kind of crazy for it to be proved to be the case. i hadn't had a Coke in a loooooonnnnnnggggg time.
i have to write a paper for U.S. Lit. tonight, we're having a party for Polly, and of course there's Lost. i still haven't been able to fix my computer, but i'm still working on it... i'm not the most computer literate person in the world.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
first paper back finally
This semester is a bit different in that i am only writing rough drafts thus far in Creative Writing and only got my first response paper back in US Lit today. i got an A-; i cannot post the paper right now because my only copy is saved on the my computer and it won't boot. i think i may have finally figured out a way to fix the problem, but until i can there's no way for me to boot my computer. i think it's time for me to start saving for a new computer but that is probably going to take me a while. i really need to be able to use my computer for school.
In other news, i'm really sore from my run yesterday. i'm not used to running on hilly pavement and gravel, the track at Stocker Stadium has definitely made me soft. i'm not running often enough, but i get so tired and feel so bleh so often. i've had a headache on and off for the past week, i think my allergies are acting up already, but i'm not sure what to take for them. i had really weird dreams last night, Brad was running half naked around a house that was a mix of Megan's and Bard House and i had just had a baby boy who was huge, already wearing glasses, and talking. Incidentally, had we actually had sex and i had gotten pregnant, i would probably be due very soon. i have no idea where the dream came from really, other than pain.
i can hardly wait until spring break (next week) when i'll finally be able to actually sleep as long as my body wants to. The house will be quiet, i have homework to catch up on, the bad thing is that Daylight Savings will be starting (stupid lying Congress, wasting energy by failing to repeal stupid laws).
i meant to say something else, but i can't remember what it was... hoping to finish Cto5k W7 tomorrow though.
In other news, i'm really sore from my run yesterday. i'm not used to running on hilly pavement and gravel, the track at Stocker Stadium has definitely made me soft. i'm not running often enough, but i get so tired and feel so bleh so often. i've had a headache on and off for the past week, i think my allergies are acting up already, but i'm not sure what to take for them. i had really weird dreams last night, Brad was running half naked around a house that was a mix of Megan's and Bard House and i had just had a baby boy who was huge, already wearing glasses, and talking. Incidentally, had we actually had sex and i had gotten pregnant, i would probably be due very soon. i have no idea where the dream came from really, other than pain.
i can hardly wait until spring break (next week) when i'll finally be able to actually sleep as long as my body wants to. The house will be quiet, i have homework to catch up on, the bad thing is that Daylight Savings will be starting (stupid lying Congress, wasting energy by failing to repeal stupid laws).
i meant to say something else, but i can't remember what it was... hoping to finish Cto5k W7 tomorrow though.
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