I've recently decided that my current American Studies class is in know way beneficial to my learning experience. We are learning the content at what I view as a snail's pace and it is turning my stomach.
I understand that Honors level is hard, but I am also quite certain that I'm cut out for it. I am prepared to do the work and do whatever it takes to learn as much as I can from that class. Of course, I probably won't take it ever.
This whole thing makes me sour over my performance last year; I know I could have done better, but, for reasons unknown, I didn't. I could have just done my work, gone to Honors level and been happy with it. But no. I decided to slack off and just expected to get my way. Well, whole lotta luck that gave me.
I'm really hoping that some teachers are conducive to my interpretation of my predicament.
If I don't get into it for the rest of this year... I think I'll wait another year.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
i no true love OR Revolution
I have decided that my previous affection for that guy I was talking about is unfounded. I base this on an epiphany I had regarding love in general.
I believe that love is not necessarily a rabid passion for someone that conquers all things. It can be a very simple feeling. What I felt for this young man was incredible, but it was brief. Over time, I felt a rapid decline of my actual feelings for him. I think that, if it was real love, there would have been no decline. Furthermore, it probably would not have been so volatile... I think that I wanted to believe it was love of some sort, whether out of some desperate attempt at fighting my constant feeling of loneliness (that, too, is unfounded) or just to make myself feel "all growed up and stuff".
If it was love, I think that it would start as something really small. Maybe something of moderate size. And it would stay that way. For a while. In time, I would realize exactly how important that small relationship was, and, maybe then, find some sort of love for that person.
But in every friendship I've ever had, I've tried to rely on the notion of utter loyalty and "best friendhood" to establish some secure base of friendship in my life. Maybe if I just decided to let my friends establish their own connections with me, we could grow into some of the best friends there ever were...
As for him, I still haven't really gotten over it. Oh well. Fatal attraction.
I believe that love is not necessarily a rabid passion for someone that conquers all things. It can be a very simple feeling. What I felt for this young man was incredible, but it was brief. Over time, I felt a rapid decline of my actual feelings for him. I think that, if it was real love, there would have been no decline. Furthermore, it probably would not have been so volatile... I think that I wanted to believe it was love of some sort, whether out of some desperate attempt at fighting my constant feeling of loneliness (that, too, is unfounded) or just to make myself feel "all growed up and stuff".
If it was love, I think that it would start as something really small. Maybe something of moderate size. And it would stay that way. For a while. In time, I would realize exactly how important that small relationship was, and, maybe then, find some sort of love for that person.
But in every friendship I've ever had, I've tried to rely on the notion of utter loyalty and "best friendhood" to establish some secure base of friendship in my life. Maybe if I just decided to let my friends establish their own connections with me, we could grow into some of the best friends there ever were...
As for him, I still haven't really gotten over it. Oh well. Fatal attraction.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Beef Forming Flint?
I have lost (for the moment) my binder and two of my notebooks, so, on the academic side of things, I am quite thoroughly fucked.
I have nothing else to report.
It's hard to blog when there isn't any drama.
I have nothing else to report.
It's hard to blog when there isn't any drama.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Teething Rhinos
There is nothing for me to write. Oddly enough, my life is going wonderfully right now.
I can't help but think that something will come around to fuck it all up.
Whatsisface isn't outright avoiding me, but we still have not spoken.
I can't help but think that something will come around to fuck it all up.
Whatsisface isn't outright avoiding me, but we still have not spoken.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Brute Cliché
This is my essay on Abigail Williams, as portrayed in Arthur Miller's The Crucible.
Enjoy!
Though its citizens would fervently deny such a claim, Puritan society was rife with demons; and, as all demons, these ones had their prey. The society had people who had engaged in sinful activity, whether deliberately or inadvertently. Perhaps even more common were the people who took a violent, unforgiving aversion to sin. Lastly, there were those who were too blind to see the nature of sin—its causes, its effects and the impressions it makes upon society. In The Crucible, Arthur Miller’s groundbreaking play about a terror-stricken Puritan community, Abigail Williams fell into all three groups; Yet, at the same time, she was somewhat a victim of each group, and, therefore, had no place in the Puritan society—for her own good or for the good of those around her.
In a realistic world, sin tempts all people. Some are strong and hold back from their temptations. Some others, however, succumb to the allure of immoral solutions to everyday problems. Even the virginal girls of The Crucible’s society were not strong enough to remain pure, going to the slave Tituba and learning “charms” to win over their loves. Abigail Williams, however, entered that forest with something that none of the other girls had: malice. Desperate to win over her supposed lover, John Proctor, Abigail used Tituba’s rituals to attain something more than mere affection from her alleged paramour. According to Abigail’s cousin, Betty Parris, Abigail “drank a charm to kill John Proctor’s wife” (page 1044). So, not only did Abigail engage in an already sinful activity, but she intended to invoke a far more wicked power than her own will—whether it existed or not. While it is true that the young, misguided Abigail could have, like the other girls, been drawn by the decadent appeal of having one’s true love fall head over heels instantly,—with the help of Tituba’s “Barbados songs” (page 1039),—she entered that dead grove of arbor with ill intention upon Elizabeth Proctor—ill intention being the very essence of sin. Based on her aberrant cavorting with malevolent spirits, Abigail Williams was one of the bitterest of villains; and, like many villains, Abigail Williams knew how to cover her tracks—a good quality, considering the opinions of her community.
Puritan society, in almost all senses, relied on conformity and regularity. Change is often a threat to this. Even more threatening—considering the fact that this town is one rigidly bound by the Holy Scripture—is sin. The very thought of witches in a town that prides itself for its good morals is enough to fell the faint of heart and to send the entire community into a manic frenzy. Abigail knew that, if implicated, she would surely be hanged for her sinful behavior. Scared by the thought that the community which had guided her life from a very young age would be the same one to end it, Abigail accused Tituba, knowing that the Puritan settlers might be inclined to distrust a native of a heathen country. With the attention directed away from her,—well, the negative attention, at least,—Abigail was safe and sound. But was she really safe, or was there another enemy of Abigail Williams?
The Reverend Parris—for reasons unknown, his first name is never given—is a very egocentric man, in such a way that a modern person of God might find his actions unbecoming of a clergyman. He interprets almost any implication that his associates are not up to par as a personal attack on him and his ministry. His insecurity causes him to be unfairly harsh with people—even to his niece, Abigail—in order to assure himself that his leadership in the local ministry will be safe. That being said, he was not afraid to get angry, either. Although Abigail may or may not have been on the best terms with her uncle, she venerated him enough to fear his wrath. Parris saw the implication of his niece as John Proctor “blackening [his] name”. He surely would have punished her more severely than others if she indeed had a hand in the illicit dealings of Salem. So, while it is true that Abigail Williams deliberately bore false witness to the “witchcraft” of the women of the community, she did so out of a fear of retribution from her community and from her uncle. In this matter, the forces of good and evil in Abigail Williams are too balanced for a significant distinction to be made. It is perhaps this blurring of the lines between the two forces that contributed to the utter confusion that came as a result of Abigail’s actions.
As much as some insisted otherwise, no one could really be sure that the cries of witchcraft were indeed true. It is this uncertainty that added to the terror within the community. The fear of witchcraft was indeed so menacing that it blinded people from their common sense, leading them to believe even the most outrageous claims in a desperate hope that finding a scapegoat could put an end to their misery. Acting on their blindness, Abigail Williams spoke of other supposed witches with whom she had seen the devil: “…I saw Sarah Good with the Devil! I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil! I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!” (page 1060) Whether driven out of spite or out of fear,—or even because she was, apparently, such a talented actress,—the people of the Puritan community believed Abigail’s screams of witchcraft, and ended up tearing apart their society and ending the lives of many who were probably innocent. In that sense, the Puritan society had also sinned, bringing about a downfall of sorts to their own town. Few people in the community—besides, perhaps, Reverend Hale, John Proctor and all others accused—were of sound enough judgment to realize that their actions were ruining their standards of living. Even Abigail Williams, maybe, was too shortsighted to predict what effect her lying would have on society.
The life of Abigail Williams was one ridden with tragedy and loneliness. She was robbed of her childhood by her parents’ murder and sent to a father figure who did not give her the affection she needed. Children in general were taught by their parents that they were sinful and had to atone themselves in order to be saved from damnation. One can imagine that this only aggravated Abigail Williams’s already fractured soul. As she said to her friends, in order to warn them of her fervor to keep their wicked actions secret: “I saw Indians smash my dear parents’ heads on the pillow next to mine, and I have seen some reddish work done at night, and I can make you wish you’d never seen the sun go down!” (page 1044) The tragedy of her parents’ death clearly had made her a bitter person, defensive of herself as if the entire world is plotting against her. Angry at the society which had taken her under its wing and might now so swiftly cast her aside, she cried witchcraft. She reveled in the new attention, with people viewing her as a bringer of justice. However, even she realized that the whole matter had gone too far when her beloved John Proctor was accused. Horrified with the damage she had caused and unable to face the consequences of her actions, Abigail fled the community. So, even though she deliberately took advantage of the hysteria which had spread throughout her town, she was of high enough character to finally see the evil of her actions and did what she needed to put an end to the madness, both for herself and for the community: she fled. In this light, Abigail Williams was the most tragic of victims; although she was really more like a fallen angel, for, even though she finally tried to put an end to the lunacy, she had readily contributed to it and was too blind to realize it.
The Puritan community was doomed from its origin. Sin is too tempting a force to be overcome by sheer human will and prayer. Abigail Williams is a testimonial to this: she knowingly partook in sinful actions for her own benefit and preyed on the rabid terror of her peers. At the same time, though, she was also a victim of sin’s effects, in her fear of retribution which would come from her own sins and in her inner torture which was only aggravated by the morals of Puritan society. In all manners, the Puritan world would have killed this paradox called Abigail Williams had she remained in it any longer. It was, therefore, wise of her to escape the town before she suffered from a complete collapse. Blind for most of her life, Abigail was, for once, enlightened—finally seeing the error of her ways—when she left the town of Salem, ridding herself of the social structure which tore her apart inside and ridding the townspeople of her treachery. So, although Abigail was someone of subprime virtue, she was, in many ways, a victim of society; the complex history of Abigail Williams makes it impossible to define her as only one, and she is therefore better categorized as someone who had no place in Salem at all. That’s not to say, however, that she is of complete moral balance—she was quite probably more wicked than not; but, although no one mourns the wicked, even the worst deserve a nod.
Enjoy!
Though its citizens would fervently deny such a claim, Puritan society was rife with demons; and, as all demons, these ones had their prey. The society had people who had engaged in sinful activity, whether deliberately or inadvertently. Perhaps even more common were the people who took a violent, unforgiving aversion to sin. Lastly, there were those who were too blind to see the nature of sin—its causes, its effects and the impressions it makes upon society. In The Crucible, Arthur Miller’s groundbreaking play about a terror-stricken Puritan community, Abigail Williams fell into all three groups; Yet, at the same time, she was somewhat a victim of each group, and, therefore, had no place in the Puritan society—for her own good or for the good of those around her.
In a realistic world, sin tempts all people. Some are strong and hold back from their temptations. Some others, however, succumb to the allure of immoral solutions to everyday problems. Even the virginal girls of The Crucible’s society were not strong enough to remain pure, going to the slave Tituba and learning “charms” to win over their loves. Abigail Williams, however, entered that forest with something that none of the other girls had: malice. Desperate to win over her supposed lover, John Proctor, Abigail used Tituba’s rituals to attain something more than mere affection from her alleged paramour. According to Abigail’s cousin, Betty Parris, Abigail “drank a charm to kill John Proctor’s wife” (page 1044). So, not only did Abigail engage in an already sinful activity, but she intended to invoke a far more wicked power than her own will—whether it existed or not. While it is true that the young, misguided Abigail could have, like the other girls, been drawn by the decadent appeal of having one’s true love fall head over heels instantly,—with the help of Tituba’s “Barbados songs” (page 1039),—she entered that dead grove of arbor with ill intention upon Elizabeth Proctor—ill intention being the very essence of sin. Based on her aberrant cavorting with malevolent spirits, Abigail Williams was one of the bitterest of villains; and, like many villains, Abigail Williams knew how to cover her tracks—a good quality, considering the opinions of her community.
Puritan society, in almost all senses, relied on conformity and regularity. Change is often a threat to this. Even more threatening—considering the fact that this town is one rigidly bound by the Holy Scripture—is sin. The very thought of witches in a town that prides itself for its good morals is enough to fell the faint of heart and to send the entire community into a manic frenzy. Abigail knew that, if implicated, she would surely be hanged for her sinful behavior. Scared by the thought that the community which had guided her life from a very young age would be the same one to end it, Abigail accused Tituba, knowing that the Puritan settlers might be inclined to distrust a native of a heathen country. With the attention directed away from her,—well, the negative attention, at least,—Abigail was safe and sound. But was she really safe, or was there another enemy of Abigail Williams?
The Reverend Parris—for reasons unknown, his first name is never given—is a very egocentric man, in such a way that a modern person of God might find his actions unbecoming of a clergyman. He interprets almost any implication that his associates are not up to par as a personal attack on him and his ministry. His insecurity causes him to be unfairly harsh with people—even to his niece, Abigail—in order to assure himself that his leadership in the local ministry will be safe. That being said, he was not afraid to get angry, either. Although Abigail may or may not have been on the best terms with her uncle, she venerated him enough to fear his wrath. Parris saw the implication of his niece as John Proctor “blackening [his] name”. He surely would have punished her more severely than others if she indeed had a hand in the illicit dealings of Salem. So, while it is true that Abigail Williams deliberately bore false witness to the “witchcraft” of the women of the community, she did so out of a fear of retribution from her community and from her uncle. In this matter, the forces of good and evil in Abigail Williams are too balanced for a significant distinction to be made. It is perhaps this blurring of the lines between the two forces that contributed to the utter confusion that came as a result of Abigail’s actions.
As much as some insisted otherwise, no one could really be sure that the cries of witchcraft were indeed true. It is this uncertainty that added to the terror within the community. The fear of witchcraft was indeed so menacing that it blinded people from their common sense, leading them to believe even the most outrageous claims in a desperate hope that finding a scapegoat could put an end to their misery. Acting on their blindness, Abigail Williams spoke of other supposed witches with whom she had seen the devil: “…I saw Sarah Good with the Devil! I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil! I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!” (page 1060) Whether driven out of spite or out of fear,—or even because she was, apparently, such a talented actress,—the people of the Puritan community believed Abigail’s screams of witchcraft, and ended up tearing apart their society and ending the lives of many who were probably innocent. In that sense, the Puritan society had also sinned, bringing about a downfall of sorts to their own town. Few people in the community—besides, perhaps, Reverend Hale, John Proctor and all others accused—were of sound enough judgment to realize that their actions were ruining their standards of living. Even Abigail Williams, maybe, was too shortsighted to predict what effect her lying would have on society.
The life of Abigail Williams was one ridden with tragedy and loneliness. She was robbed of her childhood by her parents’ murder and sent to a father figure who did not give her the affection she needed. Children in general were taught by their parents that they were sinful and had to atone themselves in order to be saved from damnation. One can imagine that this only aggravated Abigail Williams’s already fractured soul. As she said to her friends, in order to warn them of her fervor to keep their wicked actions secret: “I saw Indians smash my dear parents’ heads on the pillow next to mine, and I have seen some reddish work done at night, and I can make you wish you’d never seen the sun go down!” (page 1044) The tragedy of her parents’ death clearly had made her a bitter person, defensive of herself as if the entire world is plotting against her. Angry at the society which had taken her under its wing and might now so swiftly cast her aside, she cried witchcraft. She reveled in the new attention, with people viewing her as a bringer of justice. However, even she realized that the whole matter had gone too far when her beloved John Proctor was accused. Horrified with the damage she had caused and unable to face the consequences of her actions, Abigail fled the community. So, even though she deliberately took advantage of the hysteria which had spread throughout her town, she was of high enough character to finally see the evil of her actions and did what she needed to put an end to the madness, both for herself and for the community: she fled. In this light, Abigail Williams was the most tragic of victims; although she was really more like a fallen angel, for, even though she finally tried to put an end to the lunacy, she had readily contributed to it and was too blind to realize it.
The Puritan community was doomed from its origin. Sin is too tempting a force to be overcome by sheer human will and prayer. Abigail Williams is a testimonial to this: she knowingly partook in sinful actions for her own benefit and preyed on the rabid terror of her peers. At the same time, though, she was also a victim of sin’s effects, in her fear of retribution which would come from her own sins and in her inner torture which was only aggravated by the morals of Puritan society. In all manners, the Puritan world would have killed this paradox called Abigail Williams had she remained in it any longer. It was, therefore, wise of her to escape the town before she suffered from a complete collapse. Blind for most of her life, Abigail was, for once, enlightened—finally seeing the error of her ways—when she left the town of Salem, ridding herself of the social structure which tore her apart inside and ridding the townspeople of her treachery. So, although Abigail was someone of subprime virtue, she was, in many ways, a victim of society; the complex history of Abigail Williams makes it impossible to define her as only one, and she is therefore better categorized as someone who had no place in Salem at all. That’s not to say, however, that she is of complete moral balance—she was quite probably more wicked than not; but, although no one mourns the wicked, even the worst deserve a nod.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Deletion Pen OR Patient Foothill
I am taking steps to rid myself of that idiot whom (as you can see) I can't stop thinking about.
Towards the beginning of this whole fiasco (back before he thought he knew what was going on), I wrote an amorous letter to him, explaining how awful I felt that I could potentially put him in such an awkward position, but how much I thought I cared about him...
I burned it today. Not all of it--I did say, in one portion, at the end, "I love you". I tried to burn it once, but the wind was blowing, so only the bottom portion burned... those words, somehow, were left intact. I tore them off, and then burned the rest of the letter on my porch. My eyes welled a little, but more because of the smoke getting in my eyes than because of grief. I vowed that I would keep them safe.
I freaked out while writing this because I thought I had lost them, but, just while writing that last paragraph, I noticed them beneath the pencil cup. Crisis averted.
Dear God, what have I become?
I have the strangest feeling that, somewhere, I have greater control of this situation than I think. In this pattern, I have the needle.
I guess that's the point of it all.
Towards the beginning of this whole fiasco (back before he thought he knew what was going on), I wrote an amorous letter to him, explaining how awful I felt that I could potentially put him in such an awkward position, but how much I thought I cared about him...
I burned it today. Not all of it--I did say, in one portion, at the end, "I love you". I tried to burn it once, but the wind was blowing, so only the bottom portion burned... those words, somehow, were left intact. I tore them off, and then burned the rest of the letter on my porch. My eyes welled a little, but more because of the smoke getting in my eyes than because of grief. I vowed that I would keep them safe.
I freaked out while writing this because I thought I had lost them, but, just while writing that last paragraph, I noticed them beneath the pencil cup. Crisis averted.
Dear God, what have I become?
I have the strangest feeling that, somewhere, I have greater control of this situation than I think. In this pattern, I have the needle.
I guess that's the point of it all.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Go Debauch
How this one did not ruin my evening, I will never know.
I went to the homecoming bonfire and went to say hi to my friend Megan ('cos she's the bomb). The subject of the past few rants was there. He pulls her and my dear friend Abby away and tells my friends Megan and Katie to punch me and shoot me and kill me in any other possible fashion.
WHAT THE FUCK? As it turns out, he never even KNEW that I liked him--he was assuming based on a very poor factual basis. And how he's being a vindictive douchebag (if you look closely, you'll notice that this post's title is an anagram of "douchebag") and is too conceited to even give me a say in the matter.
UGH! And what's worse is that I'm in drama club with him, so I have to deal with him TOMORROW too.
God, why can't he just let it go?
Why can't I let it go?
I went to the homecoming bonfire and went to say hi to my friend Megan ('cos she's the bomb). The subject of the past few rants was there. He pulls her and my dear friend Abby away and tells my friends Megan and Katie to punch me and shoot me and kill me in any other possible fashion.
WHAT THE FUCK? As it turns out, he never even KNEW that I liked him--he was assuming based on a very poor factual basis. And how he's being a vindictive douchebag (if you look closely, you'll notice that this post's title is an anagram of "douchebag") and is too conceited to even give me a say in the matter.
UGH! And what's worse is that I'm in drama club with him, so I have to deal with him TOMORROW too.
God, why can't he just let it go?
Why can't I let it go?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Gentlemen Hint
To conclude that last rant, I've decided that I can accept this person's "hatred" for me. I understand he is offended and that it is my fault, and I am truly sorry for that.
I cannot, however, apologize for having been attracted to him. That's not exactly something that I can control. I would think that he'd be able to realize that. I suppose not.
Also, I think that he is, in at least one aspect, blowing things out of proportion. I admit that I felt those feelings for him and I am infinitely sorry for having offended him. I wouldn't mind telling him that, because I do still care about him, even if only a little. I am admitting what I did and apologizing for it, but apparently that's not good enough for him.
So be it. If he is going to be so egocentric as to not consider how I look at this whole situation, then that is his own matter. If he is so immature that he would rather shun the cause of his problems rather than face it and learn to move on, then I have no interest in associating with him until he starts being mature and letting bygones be bygones. I understand I'm being more than a little harsh, but I feel that this is what I have to do in order to move on with my life while generating as little bad air as possible.
I want him to know that my silly little pursual of him, for the time being, is over and done with. I have no interest in being in any kind of relationship with him beyond a friendship. Come to think of it, at this moment, I don't really want to being in any kind of relationship with him at all until he lets it go.
I mean, it's not like I MEANT for him to be offended--hell, I didn't even mean for him to find out. I suppose the fact that he found out is my fault in some way or another. I don't know how or why, but I did something that lit the fuse...
I hope that, one day, he'll wise up and accept the fact that this whole ugly mess happened and that there's nothing either one of us can do to change that. But according to every account I've ever heard on the matter, he is a good person, so I know that there is at least the most marginal hope of us being good friends.
I guess this is the end.
I cannot, however, apologize for having been attracted to him. That's not exactly something that I can control. I would think that he'd be able to realize that. I suppose not.
Also, I think that he is, in at least one aspect, blowing things out of proportion. I admit that I felt those feelings for him and I am infinitely sorry for having offended him. I wouldn't mind telling him that, because I do still care about him, even if only a little. I am admitting what I did and apologizing for it, but apparently that's not good enough for him.
So be it. If he is going to be so egocentric as to not consider how I look at this whole situation, then that is his own matter. If he is so immature that he would rather shun the cause of his problems rather than face it and learn to move on, then I have no interest in associating with him until he starts being mature and letting bygones be bygones. I understand I'm being more than a little harsh, but I feel that this is what I have to do in order to move on with my life while generating as little bad air as possible.
I want him to know that my silly little pursual of him, for the time being, is over and done with. I have no interest in being in any kind of relationship with him beyond a friendship. Come to think of it, at this moment, I don't really want to being in any kind of relationship with him at all until he lets it go.
I mean, it's not like I MEANT for him to be offended--hell, I didn't even mean for him to find out. I suppose the fact that he found out is my fault in some way or another. I don't know how or why, but I did something that lit the fuse...
I hope that, one day, he'll wise up and accept the fact that this whole ugly mess happened and that there's nothing either one of us can do to change that. But according to every account I've ever heard on the matter, he is a good person, so I know that there is at least the most marginal hope of us being good friends.
I guess this is the end.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Be Livelier In Snoot
To continue that last ramble:
It ended. There was/is no hope. I can accept that. I now have to avoid said person for a time in hopes that distance will repair the tremendous damage.
I spent the last hour or so bitching to my dearest friend about how much my life sucks. She told my to shut the fuck up and deal with it. So I will (minus the "shut up" bit). I'll try to deal with it. I think I will succeed.
I have more things to worry about. I have a D in my history class (bull). My teacher is going to hear quite a rant, but hopefully it will be a just one.
I think that my previous appraisal of the situation was flawed, and it was more of my own poor judgment that this thing falls apart.
But it's not the end of the world.
There is hope. I just need to reassess things--edit my hypothesis.
Don't let anyone ever tell you that science class didn't teach you anything.
That's not to say it teaches you a lot.
I find life is a better teacher.
Much better.
How odd it is that I can move on so quickly... makes me question the veracity of my initial emotion.
I urge you to live your lives. I certainly won't let mine be ruined by one day.
It ended. There was/is no hope. I can accept that. I now have to avoid said person for a time in hopes that distance will repair the tremendous damage.
I spent the last hour or so bitching to my dearest friend about how much my life sucks. She told my to shut the fuck up and deal with it. So I will (minus the "shut up" bit). I'll try to deal with it. I think I will succeed.
I have more things to worry about. I have a D in my history class (bull). My teacher is going to hear quite a rant, but hopefully it will be a just one.
I think that my previous appraisal of the situation was flawed, and it was more of my own poor judgment that this thing falls apart.
But it's not the end of the world.
There is hope. I just need to reassess things--edit my hypothesis.
Don't let anyone ever tell you that science class didn't teach you anything.
That's not to say it teaches you a lot.
I find life is a better teacher.
Much better.
How odd it is that I can move on so quickly... makes me question the veracity of my initial emotion.
I urge you to live your lives. I certainly won't let mine be ruined by one day.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
SCANDAL: Bee Frightens Lion Twins!
Hooray! Once again you can hear me babble on about how much I think the LGBT community rocks! Joy!
This is a different matter than the last one, though. This actually concerns something slightly more pertinent to my own doings.
Just to clear the air (and prevent any potential future confusion), I'm bisexual. For you who did not know... surprise! Although, in a strange sort of way, you should have seen something like this coming.
Quite unsurprisingly, however, I've found myself pining for someone unattainable. Allow me to explain:
I have a friend--more like an acquaintance. I don't know him too well, and yet, for reasons I don't fully understand, I am drawn to him. I am overcome with some unfortunate anxiety that essentially prevents me from talking with this person even momentarily.
As I'm writing this, I realize that my thoughts are in no way individual and that a good deal of people have already felt something like this.
Might as well press on. I suppose one cause of this senseless drivel is my general inability to deal with high pressure social situations. I've noticed that, at parties (although my opportunities to attend such things are few and far between), I often get so wrapped up in the heat of the moment that I end up making a total ass of myself; I then realize well into the party, and proceed to mope, and apparently have the impression that all others must be miserable if I am. What of this? I'm terrified to talk to a person I barely know--if you know me, you know that this is quite a rare thing indeed. I have an unfortunate tendency to misinterpret signals and to say things at completely inappropriate times; therefore, whenever I say something even remotely off-topic I get this bizarre feeling that this is only increasing his aversion towards my very presence. I then proceed to speak for an hour with Simone--who, in the past week, has essentially become my psychiatrist--about my apparent lack of confidence. How she puts up with it, I shall never know...
This whole mess has made me question my own ability in the past: How is it that I was able to essentially make a bunch of friends by saying a few random things and then being a generally nice person, and yet now I cannot let a single word escape without torturing myself about how off-topic it may or may not have been? Why can I get by talking to my friends every now and then and still maintain a solid camaraderie while at the same time expecting to possibly coax someone into considering a committed relationship when I can barely utter a word?
More on this uninteresting development in the near future. I'm sure you all are wondering what on Earth I am talking about.
This is a different matter than the last one, though. This actually concerns something slightly more pertinent to my own doings.
Just to clear the air (and prevent any potential future confusion), I'm bisexual. For you who did not know... surprise! Although, in a strange sort of way, you should have seen something like this coming.
Quite unsurprisingly, however, I've found myself pining for someone unattainable. Allow me to explain:
I have a friend--more like an acquaintance. I don't know him too well, and yet, for reasons I don't fully understand, I am drawn to him. I am overcome with some unfortunate anxiety that essentially prevents me from talking with this person even momentarily.
As I'm writing this, I realize that my thoughts are in no way individual and that a good deal of people have already felt something like this.
Might as well press on. I suppose one cause of this senseless drivel is my general inability to deal with high pressure social situations. I've noticed that, at parties (although my opportunities to attend such things are few and far between), I often get so wrapped up in the heat of the moment that I end up making a total ass of myself; I then realize well into the party, and proceed to mope, and apparently have the impression that all others must be miserable if I am. What of this? I'm terrified to talk to a person I barely know--if you know me, you know that this is quite a rare thing indeed. I have an unfortunate tendency to misinterpret signals and to say things at completely inappropriate times; therefore, whenever I say something even remotely off-topic I get this bizarre feeling that this is only increasing his aversion towards my very presence. I then proceed to speak for an hour with Simone--who, in the past week, has essentially become my psychiatrist--about my apparent lack of confidence. How she puts up with it, I shall never know...
This whole mess has made me question my own ability in the past: How is it that I was able to essentially make a bunch of friends by saying a few random things and then being a generally nice person, and yet now I cannot let a single word escape without torturing myself about how off-topic it may or may not have been? Why can I get by talking to my friends every now and then and still maintain a solid camaraderie while at the same time expecting to possibly coax someone into considering a committed relationship when I can barely utter a word?
More on this uninteresting development in the near future. I'm sure you all are wondering what on Earth I am talking about.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Club Heretic
I've started writing my essay on The Crucible, and I think I'm doing rather well. This is the first paragraph:
"Though its citizens would fervently deny such a claim, Puritan society was rife with demons; and, as all demons, these ones had their prey. The society had people who had engaged in sinful activity, whether deliberately or inadvertently. Perhaps even more common were the people who took a violent, unforgiving aversion to sin. Lastly, there were those who were too blind to see the nature of sin—its causes, its effects and the impressions it makes upon society. In The Crucible, Abigail Williams fell into all three groups; Yet, at the same time, she was somewhat a victim of each group, and, therefore, had no place in the Puritan society—for her own good or for the good of those around her."
Of course, now there's that grueling process of actually substantiatin the points which I have put forth... FUCK!
Well, I understood the play quite well, so I don't think I have any reason to be uneasy beyond keeping up my grades (I freak out any time one of my grades isn't a B).
Valete.
"Though its citizens would fervently deny such a claim, Puritan society was rife with demons; and, as all demons, these ones had their prey. The society had people who had engaged in sinful activity, whether deliberately or inadvertently. Perhaps even more common were the people who took a violent, unforgiving aversion to sin. Lastly, there were those who were too blind to see the nature of sin—its causes, its effects and the impressions it makes upon society. In The Crucible, Abigail Williams fell into all three groups; Yet, at the same time, she was somewhat a victim of each group, and, therefore, had no place in the Puritan society—for her own good or for the good of those around her."
Of course, now there's that grueling process of actually substantiatin the points which I have put forth... FUCK!
Well, I understood the play quite well, so I don't think I have any reason to be uneasy beyond keeping up my grades (I freak out any time one of my grades isn't a B).
Valete.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Martinis Up
I've decided that, while I can respect people's religions by the very fact that they are religions, but I can't respect some of the lame ass view that the people themselves hold.
For example, my friend Madeleine and I once had a debate in health class with another friend, Truman (he is good-natured and bright, but sometimes he's just an airhead), regarding the topic of same-sex marriage. Let's clear the air on that:
Personally, I think that a constititutional amendment to assert that "marriage" is any civil union between two people (perhaps more) or to assert that "marriage" is a holy sacrament between a man and a woman--specifically--is superfluous. I believe that the right to marry, regardless of sexual orientation, is guaranteed in the U. S. Constitution. I should clarify that, by "marriage", I mean the legal bond between two people. "Marriage", as in the ceremony, is a purely religious matter and to attempt to define it in the Constitution contradicts the basic concept of separation of church and state. Therefore, state governments should license couples not to be "married", but to be legally bound in a civil union. Whether or not a couple (heterosexual or otherwise) chooses to define their union as a "marriage" relies entirely on how they view themselves spiritually and how their spiritual community chooses to view them.
Madeleine very much agrees, but doesn't think it would necessarily be a bad thing for same-sex marriage to be legalized in federal legislation.
Truman, on the other hand, views it as gay marriage as immoral, as well as homosexuality itself, and yet asserted that he was personally okay with gay people. Honestly, I wanted to kick his ass.
I know he has a right to his opinion, and I will not feel personally angry towards him for it.
Furthermore, my friend Heather described homosexuality as "not something you're born with--it's a psychological problem". Not the best choice of words on her part.
For example, my friend Madeleine and I once had a debate in health class with another friend, Truman (he is good-natured and bright, but sometimes he's just an airhead), regarding the topic of same-sex marriage. Let's clear the air on that:
Personally, I think that a constititutional amendment to assert that "marriage" is any civil union between two people (perhaps more) or to assert that "marriage" is a holy sacrament between a man and a woman--specifically--is superfluous. I believe that the right to marry, regardless of sexual orientation, is guaranteed in the U. S. Constitution. I should clarify that, by "marriage", I mean the legal bond between two people. "Marriage", as in the ceremony, is a purely religious matter and to attempt to define it in the Constitution contradicts the basic concept of separation of church and state. Therefore, state governments should license couples not to be "married", but to be legally bound in a civil union. Whether or not a couple (heterosexual or otherwise) chooses to define their union as a "marriage" relies entirely on how they view themselves spiritually and how their spiritual community chooses to view them.
Madeleine very much agrees, but doesn't think it would necessarily be a bad thing for same-sex marriage to be legalized in federal legislation.
Truman, on the other hand, views it as gay marriage as immoral, as well as homosexuality itself, and yet asserted that he was personally okay with gay people. Honestly, I wanted to kick his ass.
I know he has a right to his opinion, and I will not feel personally angry towards him for it.
Furthermore, my friend Heather described homosexuality as "not something you're born with--it's a psychological problem". Not the best choice of words on her part.
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