Psychosocial Split

Adults in Adolescence

2011-03-21T11:55:00.011-04:00

Statistics class. 90 minutes of semi-consciousness, calculators clicking, and sarcastic remarks from hormonal honors kids raging against the machine; that is, my 40-something teacher, who had trouble connecting with students even when he was one.

In this class, students and teacher make bad jokes, go off on anecdotes unrelated to statistics, and I pull out a novel. But occasionally, someone says something worth hearing. This happened last week, between discussing stratified samples and tables of random digits, when my teacher said something about how he was "born old."

I guess it's slightly cliché. Still, something about the circumstances made me put down the book I'd been reading and listen as my teacher described his high school job at McDonald's, at which, among other things, he would listen to Vivaldi's Four Seasons while sweeping the floor.

To use the words of overzealous guidance counselors: I related. I remembered hours of folding, tearing, and refolding paper booklets for my mother, when I drowned complaints in 80s indie bands named after common nouns. I thought of nights spent cooking for my baby sisters because my parents had a fallout or too much beer and dammit won't someone make dinner.

I won't say that adulthood was thrust upon me, because that's unfair to my parents and also not true. I'm not an adult, not nearly; who is? We all spend days as a rebellious teen, notching up the volume on our music to block out the world and ferment our own misery. But we've all been in the kitchen, stirring cheese powder into macaroni because someone had to be responsible.

I'm sure someone else could dream up a philosophical insight to share about this, but I've nothing like that. My point is this: When circumstance necessitates adulthood, we dwarf ourselves in order to help others. How often this happens depends solely on when one feels it is necessary. Besides that, it's formulaic.

Because it's not about Vivaldi or the responsibility with which you handle your summer job; it's about the sameness of all of us. How thirty years and a gender doesn't change the fact that we are all a mix of child and adult - tips of the balance, some measure in rectitude.

Happy New Year's! A ramble.

2011-01-01T00:38:00.003-05:00

I will be happier.
I will be nicer.
I will diet. For real this time.

Lists of New Year's Resolutions clog every social networking site. Every conversation. Even news networks feature videos listing the scripted resolutions of celebrities starved for the spotlight. They bring in every new year with so many empty promises and no change in mindset.

I suppose it's been said before, that the new year is an arbitrary date. But so are most of our holidays; any left-wing college hipster can tell you that Jesus was most definitely born in spring, so Christmas is a big capitalist scam and Americans are sheep to fall for it. Still, the lack of historical accuracy is part of the tradition, which is, in itself, history.

So let the people waste their money on gifts that will sit on shelves until the next holidays, when they will find a new home with an equally enthusiastic recipient. Let them try, again, to find a diet/exercise plan that "works for them." Let them raise champagne glasses and kiss. It's culture.

2010-11-20T01:28:00.004-05:00

"If you were an Indian, your name would be "Runs Like Fag." - middle school guy in the mall to his middle school friend.

1) Indian is not equal to Native American.

2) Cool, stereotype all homosexual people. They all run prissily. Because all gays are effeminate, and there are no athletes who are gay.

3) Being gay is not an insult.

4) Saying the word "fag" does not make you cool.

5) You're trying too hard.

The Forest

2010-11-08T22:05:00.003-05:00

(This is the first story I ever wrote; I was five or six.)

As I went in the forest I saw ladybugs. The ladybugs saw me. Then they flapped away. I was sad when they flew away. I had to cry because I liked them. But I stopped crying. And then I looked up and saw a bird .it was pretty but it flew away to. This time I did not cry. I just said by to the bird. Then I went back home. And when I got home it was dinnertime .I washed my hands and. Then I went to bed. Then it was morning. I played games with my family

They're All Precious In His Sight

2010-11-07T22:56:00.003-05:00

(This is an essay I wrote in creative writing class, for "This I Believe" via NPR.)

Sometime in 100 degree days and afternoon thunderstorms, I learned to believe in equality. Maybe it was church every Sunday, Jesus Loves the Little Children, or maybe something about elongated syllables rounded by men on the radio who said things like, “the only time I want a woman around me when I’m watching sports is when she’s bringing me a beer.”

Born in a trailer-and-fireworks-stand town in South Carolina, I hear things like this all the time. That might be why I believe in biracial marriages and civil rights. I believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and that He would love thy neighbor as thyself, whether dark-skinned or light-skinned.

Sometimes it’s easy to ignore the background mindsets of traditional Southerners. I now live in a diverse town; almost everyone has friends of different races. On top of that, most of the people I know are artists—liberal by definition. However, when elections roll around, I mute political ads. At family get-togethers, I slip out of the room when the conversation heads toward America’s choice of leaders.

One Sunday night, my grandmother was talking softly to my mother, the way adults do when they don’t want kids to hear. Later, I found out that, in discussing the preparations for my cousin’s wedding, they talked about biracial marriage. She learned that my aunt told her daughter that marrying a non-white man would be unacceptable.

I wasn't raised in the segregated south, so I don’t understand the social faux pas. But it seems dichotomous that a society of chivalry—ladies first, "yes ma'am", please, after you—can have such backward ideals. Marriage is a sacred bond between a white man and white woman, a black man and a black woman. Better an evil white man than a good black man. White Christian children don’t play with black Christian children.

This can change, though. My brother Ryan began dating a girl I’ll call Jocelyn White. Someone would mention “Jocelyn, Ryan’s friend,” and “oh, Jocelyn’s black, but she’s a really nice girl.” I’m not sure who finally connected “Jocelyn” as “Ryan’s girlfriend”, but my grandmother’s reaction was a small nod, an acknowledgment of something she’d already known.

They didn’t talk about it again until June. After my brother’s graduation, Jocelyn’s mother, Mrs. White, came over. After the talk of “our babies are all grown up,” my mother introduced her to my grandmother. They were true social butterflies; within five minutes, they were laughing and chattering like best friends.

Later, at Red Lobster, after biscuits and drinks but before salads, my grandmother said that Mrs. White was very friendly and that she was glad Ryan had a nice girl like Jocelyn. Some black girls, she said, are preferable to some white girls.

Ryan and Jocelyn are still together. She’s in Indiana for college, but coming home for Thanksgiving break. They’ve talked of engagement, and I can see them walking down the aisle, a happy couple, and not two ungodly sinners.

I just overheard the lamest conversation

2010-09-23T13:36:00.003-04:00

Freshman 1: Guess what I had for dinner last night? Pancakes and eggs and toast!
Freshman 2: I like toast.
Freshman 1: I was having a craving for eggs so I decided to eat an egg.

Really? I can't decide if you were trying to be funny or random or whatever. You're not. No one cares what you had for dinner last night.

What I really love about this is how much this tells you about the dynamics between these two "friends." Freshman 1 didn't even wait for a response before enlightening her friend about her dinner. And then Freshman 2 said something about toast and Freshman 1 just ignored her and started started talking about her craving for eggs.

Freshman 2 needs to ditch this girl. Besides this pointless conversation, she's loud, full of herself, and super annoying. She's like the most stereotypical middle schooler ever. It's awful.

Creative Writing

2010-09-12T20:53:00.001-04:00

Creative writing class was a probable mistake.

See, we're learning how to write short stories right now. Last class we learned about how to write a good first sentence.

There's no problem with that. What I have a problem with is having to use someone else's first sentence as mine.

We all wrote down a first sentence on a scrap piece of paper, put them into a hat, and then each picked one. This is the sentence I have to use:

"Manni sat in awe of the beautiful colors outside her window when all the sudden she went blind."

What the effing eff. First, this doesn't even make any sense. Can people just go blind like that? And who just sits at their window "in awe" of the colors?

That's not even the technical aspects of it. "All the sudden"? That's not even proper grammar. And "beautiful" is such a un-descriptive word. Beautiful colors? Is there a rainbow? Are there pretty fall leaves?

You could at least have used a comma.

My Family

2010-08-21T17:31:00.009-04:00

A Letter

2010-07-18T14:36:00.003-04:00

Dear eighth grade self,

I'm sorry for all the jokes at your expense. If you'd known all the LOL'ing I would do over you in the future, would it have made it easier for you? Probably not. You would have killed yourself, wouldn't you? See, you just didn't have any sense of humor! Or any fashion sense. Sorry, honey, but that "punk" hoodie from Target never looked cool.

And your poetry sucked.

You had good times, though. Remember when Zack said you'd make a perfect future lesbian? That was funny, right? Especially when he realized you heard him. He didn't apologize, did he? Oh well.

Oh, and remember orchestra that one day? You were shaking so bad that you couldn't play. You were still better than all the other violas, though. Haha.

Ooohh, doing that dance in PE was another highlight of the year, wasn't it? Just listening to the song Men in Black made it all worth it! With your great coordination, it was a match made in heaven.

But your favorite song was "Music or the Misery." It was practically your theme song. Mostly because it had the word "misery" in the title, but still. You would turn the volume up so loud that it hurt your brain. That's what you thought angsty kids were supposed to do.

You also thought that angsty kids were supposed to sit against the wall with their knees up to their chest. That didn't make recess very fun. Well, you didn't go to recess most of the time, did you? If you couldn't stay inside your classroom, then you hid in the girls' restroom. It was nice and quiet and usually peopleless.

That trip to the guidance counselor was pretty funny, too, wasn't it? Your teachers thought you had some "issues." Of course, then it was all nervous laughter as she asked why you weren't eating at lunch. Somehow you convinced her that you might be poor, but not anorexic. That was hard work, wasn't it? Oh well. It got you out of class.

You had an eventful year, didn't you? I'm actually kind of attached to you now. I'm sorry that your self pity had to come at such an awful time. Those ideas you had were pretty scary. You held on for me, didn't you? And Katie, of course. You couldn't bear the thought of her two-year-old self asking where "Emy" was. How thoughtful of you.

Oh, the funniest thing happened to me the other day! I was at Kroger with my (our?) mom, when this lady comes by with her two kids, a little boy and a middle-school-age girl. I saw that girl and thought of you. Then I burst out laughing. See, she had your frizzy hair and that awful black eye makeup you always tried on in front of a mirror. It didn't go well with her small eyes and round, pale face. Her black t-shirt was a bit dirty and her jeans were old and too baggy. She was chubby though, so she didn't have all your problems.

She heard me laugh, I guess, and looked up at me. She gave me that no-one-understands-me look. The I-want-to-kill-you look.

It sort of broke my heart.

Anyway, I guess I'll see you later. You do come around every so often.

Love,
Your present self

The Marriage of OCD and ADHD

2010-07-14T23:56:00.002-04:00

This is how my mind works:

I'm bored. I should check Facebook.

Nothing's on Facebook. I should check Twitter.

Nothing's on Twitter. I should check my email.

Nothing's in my email. I should check Facebook.

(This continues for an hour or so.)

I should go clean. Cleaning is fun.

Oh my jeez that cabinet is dirty.

OH MY GRACIOUS that door needs to be cleaned!

Those walls are a bit dirty too...but so is the door...I'm bored of that, I want to clean cabinets.

Oh wait, the wall still needs to be cleaned. I should do that.

Why won't that stain come off??? Scrub harder. It still won't come off!

Oh look, there's a spot on the floor that needs to be cleaned.

That stain on the cabinet is still there! I'll try scrubbing it again, just in case.

I need Mr. Clean. I think Mr. Clean is my soulmate.

The stain still won't come off. I wish we could just repaint these stupid cabinets.

I hate cleaning. Cleaning should die.

Hmm, I wonder if anything's been posted on Facebook yet...

Life

2010-07-12T23:32:00.003-04:00

Nothing that makes sense ever works out. That's what Jimmy Eat World told me, and they were completely right.

I'm not going to go into the whole "I'm a terrible daughter/sister" thing. I'm much too tired for that.

But I'm kind of tired of trying to get my mom to like me. I'm tired of everything and everyone but mostly just myself.

Snapple

2010-07-05T23:42:00.002-04:00

Snapple Green Tea is more trouble than it's worth.

"All Natural! Best stuff evarrrr! METABOLISM!"

Wait, what? What kind of tea has "metabolism" written on the front of it in all caps? It doesn't even explain why. On the back of the bottle it's all like "Natural antioxidants! May increase your metabolism!" But Wikipedia tells the truth. Wikipedia knows everything and it says that epigallocatechin, this "natural antioxidant," can cause liver damage. So THERE.

Also, it has caffeine in it.

The lid of the bottle: "There are approximately 7,000 feathers on an eagle. Find more "Real Facts" at snapple.com"

That's wrong on so many levels. They are exploiting nature to promote their website! Also, the fact that "real facts" is marked in quotations can't be a good thing. It's also bad that they have to say it's a "real" fact. What other kind of facts are there? Imaginary facts? Way to not be cool, Snapple.

Since the nutrition facts aren't preceded by "real," I guess they're not real. Especially since one serving size is 60 Calories, and then the whole bottle (TWO total servings) is 130 Calories. That's not right, Snapple. 60 + 60 = 120. Do you know how to do math, Snapple? Did you even graduate elementary school?

You don't even taste that good, Snapple. You're such a disappointment.

Sorry for this post

2010-06-19T10:30:00.005-04:00

Since I'm not going to be updating for a while, I feel like I should post something worthwhile. But I can't think of anything, so instead I'm just going to post some stupid pictures.

Kitty!

I thought of this the other night...I'm so sorry.

"Orchestra is for dorks!" Yeah...well...so is drag! SO THERE!

She doesn't like me very much. I don't like vampires very much, so now we're even.

This is why I have a bunch of tabs open to pages about bubbles

2010-06-18T23:21:00.002-04:00

Nocturnalism is caused by the combination of:

- Wi-fi

- Small, portable devices on which wi-fi is accessible.

- An undying curiosity for random topics

- Wikipedia

- Webcomics that don't update until 4 in the morning.

- Solitaire

Or maybe it's just me.

FML Support Group

2010-06-17T17:33:00.002-04:00

I'm here because...

"I missed a job opportunity because of some idiotic thing my (insert relative here) did to me."

"I'm ugly."

"My extremely insensitive boyfriend dumped me after (insert tragedy here) happened."

"I find fulfillment in (insert socially unacceptable activity here)."

"My pet defecated on me."

"Someone stole (insert valuable item here) from me in an ironic situation."

---

I think the real problem these people have is that they post fake stories to FML in the hopes of enriching their lives. FML is really just sort of depressing.

A Sadness

2010-06-16T16:10:00.005-04:00

Dear Mother,

I like your work ethic. Really! It makes money and it seems to make you happy until you go overboard with it.

But you have to learn how to say no.

When someone calls in and asks you to work for them, you have the option to not do it. Especially when you already have things planned. You don't have to cancel plans in order to make $20. That's like someone paying you $20 to TAKE YOUR FUN.

Especially when it's my plans being canceled. In the middle of June!

And I've already forgotten how to talk to people due to my intense two weeks of being a hermit.

It's okay though. I have the Internet to keep me company...

- Emily

Psychology can go die

2010-06-15T23:55:00.005-04:00

These quizzes suck.

According to this website, I have Adult ADHD, anxiety, bipolar disorder, "mild to moderate" depression, an eating disorder "likely", and OCD.

Oh, and I need therapy.

Okay, I can understand the ADHD thing. Everyone has ADHD. And I can completely see the anxiety thing. (I'm the one who was up three hours last night during a thunderstorm, worried that it would spawn a tornado and kill everyone.) And the OCD is basically a given, considering my hand-washing obsession and perfectionism.

But bipolar disorder? So I just researched it. I go through cyclical "I hate everything" phases, but I think that's caused by BEING IN HIGH SCHOOL. And sleep deprivation. This slightly worries me though:

A series of authors have described mania or hypomania as being related to a high motivation to achieve, ambitious goal-setting, and sometimes high achievement. One study indicated that the pursuit of goals, encouraged by sometimes achieving them, can become emotionally dysregulated and involve the development of mania. Individuals may have low self-esteem and difficulties in social adjustment, however, and by definition there are periods of depression with difficulty in motivation and functioning.

SO WHAT IF I HAVE HIGH GOALS DON'T JUDGE ME. I'm a perfectionist - that falls more under "OCD" than bipolar disorder.

Just the category "mild to moderate" depression makes me sort of mad. Like they couldn't divide it up into two separate categories. "Mild to moderate" depression is the difference between "eh, I've been feeling really down lately..." to "I've been thinking about jumping off a bridge recently...".

And I don't have "mild" or "moderate" depression. I'M VERY HAPPY, OKAY?

And I don't have a stupid eating disorder either. I'm just a teen girl, which I think got me major points on their stupid scale.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure all these quizzes are designed to be as vague as possible. They were probably designed by psychologists or whoever it is that makes money when you schedule an appointment on the recommendation of those quizzes. Oh, capitalism.

A Public Apology

2010-06-15T23:34:00.003-04:00

Dear Internet,

I'm sorry for my really dumb attempts at being serious or the occasional sad attempt at humor. I'm not actually like this and I promise to stop trying to impose my half-hearted, "it was cool at the time" epiphanies. I'll try to stop the dumb jokes and unfunny stories, but I can't promise anything.

I think I'm going to try a new approach to this whole "blogging" thing. I'll just write whatever I'm thinking about. That sounds so simple but really was a very difficult decision to come to.

Maybe I'll actually stop ignoring this blog's existence! I don't know. I feel like this is a good place to stop but I want to keep rambling.

Hey! Maybe I could increase Google traffic by saying random searchable stuff!

How to know if you are pregnant!

How to make cheese!

Cheap laptop for sale!

Cheap laptop for sale that works!

I wonder if it's working yet. Probably not until I hit post...definitely not until I hit post...but still.

This post had a purpose when I started it.

Rebel

2010-06-15T23:05:00.003-04:00

I want to sleep. I was about ready to go upstairs and plop into bed when my dad comes up behind me and says, "don't stay up too late. You've been staying up really late recently and it's not healthy."

Normal person response: "Okay dad, you're right! Thanks for caring enough to worry that I'll become a miserable insomniac who stays up all night watching Becker which is for some reason always on tv! I'll go to sleep right now!"

My response: *angry fuming silence*

But I have LOGIC! See, I'm angry because I actually HAVEN'T been staying up late recently, so he doesn't know what he's talking about. Second, even if I WAS staying up late, what's wrong with that IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER? I have no problem with being nocturnal. As long as I actually get sleep.

But I really wanted to sleep. So I waited until my dad went upstairs, then I used my super sneaky skills to creep upstairs and pretend to just be going to brush my teeth. And then, when my dad went downstairs, I sneaked out of the bathroom and into my room. Except now my dad thinks I am sleeping and thus believes he has won. BUT HE HASN'T.

Only, I'm afraid to go downstairs because he is down there and what if he's finally had enough of me and is waiting to kill me and that was his plan all along because he knew I would want to contradict whatever he said?

So here I am, huddled in bed, furiously tapping away at my iTouch screen.

I need to stop being such a rebel.

Thoughts

2010-04-05T10:01:00.002-04:00

Buddha knew what he was talking about, or is the luckiest guesser in history.

It's impossible to read just one Wikipedia article. Similarly, it is impossible to play just one game of Tetris. (This is known as Lay's Theorem.)

Other people's conversations will always sound more interesting than mine. (Except the ones I have with my brother.)

Extreme pessimism is worse than extreme optimism.

Kids in high school are lame.

Kids in middle school are lamer.

Stuff I Wish I Could Say

2010-03-28T18:33:00.004-04:00

1. Just because I'm smarter than you doesn't mean I'm a know-it-all.

2. Just because I'm not failing this class doesn't mean I'm a nerd.

3. No, just because I know how to do the assignment doesn't mean you can copy my work.

4. No, I'm not "really quiet." I just don't talk to you.

5. I'm actually not staring at you, I just zoned out.

6. I hate talking to you. You are annoying and have no personality. You stare at me all the time and it scares me.

7. You know I can hear you talking about me, right?

8. Please stop staring. I don't care if we're being "weird." At least we're having fun.

9. It's real funny how you think you're pretty.

10. I would really love to be able to be friends with a guy without you making it awkward by saying we like each other.

Maureen Johnson

2010-03-19T18:40:00.001-04:00

...is 90% of the reason I go through evey single Twitter update on my feed. (The other 10% is OCD, I think). Here are some of her Tweets...

"@barrettclark When are your left hand?" Sometimes are left hand. Also right. Different times are occurring for each. #thatshouldclearthatup

"@SubtleExposure I invite you to a world where there is no such thing as time" Oh, you mean Deadline World. I've been there!

*does things* #mysteriousoroverlygeneralyoudecide

Satan has written Pat Robertson a letter! I'm so proud we are friends! (Satan and I, that is!) http://tinyurl.com/yejmyl8 (via @ShylaStokes)

"@Meljusenr what do YOU do when a baby is crying?" I hand it to Amy Winehouse. It doesn't help, but it makes for an interesting photo.

Our Easy Pass didn't work, so now we are doing paperwork at the toll! The people behind us are very excited about this! #spreadingcheer

I was just updating my insurance policy, and they asked me if I owned a trampoline. Seriously. That was question #1.

"@aubiscuit Do you think the English language is deteriorating?" lol do u?

I haven't worked out the details of Soup on a Stick, but in a nation where we can make the slap-chop and the Snuggie, I know there is a way.

It would probably be better for the human race.

2010-03-13T18:50:00.001-05:00

Ignorance is bliss. Which of course asks the question: would you rather be ignorant and happy or educated and miserable?

So many very brilliant or talented people also have what we classify as psychological disorders. Do I even have to back up this claim? Most great artists were dark and depressed. Writers too. Why?

Is it the way they analyze the world? Noticing details, nuances, remembering the things most people forget?

Open eyes = an open mind = thinking = realization = getting depressed over the state of the world/self?

And ignorant people (the blindly religious, the home schooled, all those stereotypes) are usually blinded from seeing things the way they
really are. I'm not against religion, I actually quite like Jesus, but being brainwashed into believing something is not faith.

What is faith? Believing without evidence? Knowing something is true even when evidence goes against it? Because that's not what some
"faithful" people experience. A lot of people just surround themselves in a little world where everybody agrees with them and where they
experience no opposition to their beliefs.

Or does being "insane" drive people to create art? What is art, really, except the artist's interpretation of things they see and experience?

Does insanity create art?

Six Types of Non-Writers

2010-02-15T19:11:00.001-05:00

Liable to overlap each other.

1. "emo" poets - the poseur kids who write when they're feeling a little down. The kids who try to write about suicide and cutting because it's "cool."

Example:

The blade sinks into my flesh
Deeper and deeper
Like the pain you caused me.
I am a monster because of you.
You made me do this.

All alone on my bed
I pull the trigger because of
What you did to me.
This is the final goodbye.

2. Teen trash writers - the kids who just emulate the most popular novel out at the time.

Example:

Julian looked deep into my eyes. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I said, and we kissed. It didn't matter that he was a vampire. Everything about him was perfect.

We broke apart, my heart racing and my breath coming in gasps. Kissing Julian was perfect, just like him. He had he body of a Greek god. He was so beautiful.

"I love you," I said again.

3. Grammar infants - the people who write lyk dis bc its cool nd uzin prpr grammer tks 2 lng.

Example:

i ran n2 teh livin rm "omg i h8 u!!!" i sed "y" he ask nd i sed "u no wat u did" thn i strted cryin nd he lft me

...that's about as much as I can stand.

4. The fantasy-obsessed. The kind of people who follow the "epic adventure" archetype that's been done a million times.

Example: Eragon.

5. The uninspired writer. The kind of people who always seem to have "writer's block" or "no inspiration." Usually found on writer forums/blogs. (Hmmm, correlation?)

Example:

I haven't been able to write anything recently. :( My muse seems to have escaped again.

But anyway, did anyone else see the Lost season premiere? [...]

6. The "talking-to-the-reader" writer - the people who interrupt the flow of the story to explain something or talk to the reader.

Example:

John and Sarah started running away from the evil child with red eyes. Now, I bet you're wondering why the child has red eyes, it's because he is a vampire! So anyway, John and Sarah kept running but the couldn't escape the evil child and then it ate them...

Bigotry: 1, Open-mindedness: 0

2010-02-11T12:35:00.005-05:00

"YOU came to OUR country. YOU learn OUR language." - a REAL group on Facebook, with over 40,000 members as of this post.

Let's hear it for good ol' fashioned American arrogance! I mean seriously, why do WE have to learn OTHER languages? We should just be able to go anywhere in the world and have them speak OUR language, because we're AMERICAN, and we deserve it! Even if we DO have one of the lowest multi-linguism percentages in the world! Even if most of the immigrants over here speak English much more fluently than WE could speak THEIR language! (nd nm teh fact tht mst ppl n the us dnt evn spk prpr englsh nemor.)

And even though most of our ancestors were probably poor immigrants who spoke little to no English! And, GOD, why couldn't those German Jews in World War II just learn English before coming here??

And who CARES that our nation was basically built on the work of much-abused immigrant workers, like the Chinese who built the railroads, and the Mexicans today doing the horrible jobs that no TRUE American would do? I wish that those below-poverty-level workers with no access to educational facilities would just learn our language!

Oh, and I don't CARE that technically the Native Americans were here first, and that we should be speaking THEIR language, if there'd been a rule like this when the pilgrims landed here. Those Cherokee were heathens, and killing them in God's name was the right idea!

But whatever. Thank you, xkcd, for summing up my point.

The miracle of cream cheese frosting

2010-01-15T16:18:00.003-05:00

Before

After

Wordle

2009-12-05T22:43:00.005-05:00

Wordle is pretty much the best thing ever. Above is one made up of poetry I wrote from last fall to the present. I'm guessing no one finds it interesting but me.

But why do I use the word "never" so much?

ETA: Wow, I just Wordle'd pre-eight-grade poetry. The contrast is ridiculous.

Note the happy-to-angsty ratio in each. And then you will understand how much I hated eighth grade.

Cornerboys

2009-11-08T21:40:00.002-05:00

"Cornerboys is collaborative effort between writer Jamieson Ridenhour, artist Ali LaRock, and composer Kevin Smith. The short film tells the dark fairy tale story of Jennifer Lynn, who searches the night streets for home but finds only the rat-eyed and restless Cornerboys. Inspired in equal parts by Christina Rossetti’s Goblin Market, the fairy tales both of the Brothers Grimm and of later practitioners like Tim Burton and Brian Froud, and the gritty urban Gothic fantasies of the 19th century, Cornerboys began life ten years ago as a long poem published in the now-defunct horror ‘zine Whispers from the Shattered Forum. The resurrected version features a dramatic reading illustrated in Ali LaRock’s trademark dark whimsical style, supported by Kevin Smith’s wickedly elfin orchestral score. The final product is ten minutes of devilish color and rhyme."

The Internet.

2009-10-31T22:00:00.001-04:00

I think there's something wrong with the whole idea of the internet.

I mean, sure, that sounds odd coming from me. Seeing how I pretty much live, breathe, and eat the Internet, but there's just so much about it that isn't right. Nevermind the stalkers and hackers and scammers. It's just the whole idea of being able to create a new person through the internet's anonymity that bothers me. It's too easy to create a new persona, a more "perfect" you. And once you create that ideal image, the "real" you (excuse the cliche) doesn't seem good enough. I guess that's one way to motivate yourself for self-improvement, but it's more likely that you won't be able to meet your standards. Which can be a bit...damaging.

Not that I know from experience or anything.

And another thing that bothers me is how nasty some people are under the blanket of anonymity. If they disagree with someone, what reputation do they have to keep them from speaking exactly what's on their mind? No one knows who you are. You could easily create a fake identity, slander someone's name, and never have any repercussions for it. So many arguments break out when you can voice your opinions with no accountability.

Like for example. If anybody actually read this, I'm pretty sure I would hear a very large chorus of "LIES! LIES! NOT TRUE! OMG, HOW DARE YOU!" (with significantly marred grammar.) And I would respond by attempting to defend my point of view, which I have a feeling would fail miserably. (considering how I'm already failing at this post.)

And the thing is, everything that's wrong about the internet is what makes it so appealing. I guess it's just the idea of having an honest opinion that makes it so addicting. That, and the fact that I, and a vast majority of other people, have no lives and depend on the internet for interaction with other people.

But whatever.

Favorited Twitter Posts

2009-10-17T11:51:00.001-04:00

Pretty much.

~

Jack Barakat - @heycassadee We kicked you off the tour. You've been replaced with David Hasselhoff

Maureen Johnson - "@digitalcable what's a quick strange plot to an imaginary novel?" Bees take over government. Honey becomes currency. No one notices.

Maureen Johnson - FYI: http://twitpic.com/jmtn5

Pete Wentz - Go football! I'm excited for every team that's winning! And every team losing sucks!

Maureen Johnson - I'm no fool, Twitter. #questionablestatements

Maureen Johnson - "@grampajoe Just put on roller skates and push a lot of people." Oh, so you've seen me at the grocery store. That's how you win the food!

Maureen Johnson - So, you know when you have those days where something is due and you're working and you accidentally book a trip to Amsterdam?

Scott Westerfeld - I wish my name rhymed with "whaddup." Then people would always be going, "Whaddup, Scott?" and it would rhyme.

Hayley Williams - Conan O'Brien never ceases to bring the LOL's

Laurie Halse Anderson - Boy who wanted beer found a guy who promised to help him out. I did not mention that if he hands over that $20 the guy will not return.

Scott Westerfeld - Let's all just admit it: water is badly designed. Too heavy. Takes too long to boil when I NEED COFFEE.

True/False?

2009-10-12T13:40:00.000-04:00

People exist to make other people happy. If everybody makes everyone else happy, then no one has to worry about their own happiness. Tension and anger happen when someone stops caring for others.

If everyone lived by this, the world would have no problems.
If just one person does not live by this, then it doesn't work. Their tension and anger will lead to more tension and anger. Soon, it sets off a cycle of angst and such that cannot be stopped.
If we can figure out how to stop this cycle, and keep it from starting again, then we have achieved a utopian society.

But how to stop it? Is there any way that does not involve tampering with minds, lying to people, or keeping secrets? These, in themselves, contradict the Golden Rule and thus would lead to the cycle of misery.

So what's the solution?

City of Bones by Cassandra Clare

2009-09-26T14:06:00.009-04:00

So I lied when I said the book rec was a one-time thing. The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare just begs my attention, and yours too, because it is just the most utterly awesome thing one could dream of.

I was reluctant to read it at first, due to the fact that, you know, I hate fantasy novels with an intensity somewhere between Rush Limbaugh and diet soda. But I was in Barnes and Noble last week and needed a book that might take me a while to read. City of Bones, being about the size of the Holy Bible, seemed appropriate.

Too bad I finished it in two days.

City of Bones (And the City of Ashes and The City of Glass) are fantasy, but without that whole unrealistic-protagonist thing. Also missing is the made-up medieval land with dragons and misogynistic warriors. And...well, I could sum it up by just saying that, unlike other fantasy I've read, CoB doesn't suck.

CoB takes place in modern day New York City. Instead of going on a cross-country quest to find an evil villain hidden in a goblin-infested cave with some half-baked motive, the main character Clary actually acts with reason and realism. The romance isn't just summed up with the standard "damsel falls in love with pretty boy after he rescues her from bad guy." Clary is rescued by her pretty boy Jace a few times, but Clary also saves Jace. Also, neither are perfect, and neither overlook that because of looooove. All the characters have their flaws, but not in a Harry Potter way.

And as for that wise-old-tutor thing present in most fantasy...well, yes, there is some wise-old-tutor guy who I strangely pictured as Dumbledore despite the fact that he couldn't have been older than 50. I can't really say anything without giving away a major plot twist, but he's not magically exempt from mistakes and flaws and neither is he omniscient in a way that's highly unlikely if not impossible. (Seriously, JK Rowling, old people are senile, not all-knowing! I DON'T CARE HOW WISE DUMBLEDORE IS!)

Another one of the things I really loved about Mortal Instruments is the lack of black and white: "he's evil, and that's all there is to it!" No. It's like Lupin says: "the world isn't divided into good people and Death Eaters." (I probably killed that quote, but you understand what I mean.) There is no one "wrong" side, really. Just two groups trying to eradicate evil, and going about very different ways to do so. Sure, one side has a little Hitler vibe going on, but still.

One of the best things about the book was the romance angle. (I don't know if you can actually call that an angle, but whatever.) Maybe I just really like forbbiden/unrequited love, but I found the romance in Mortal Instruments much more interesting/realistic than in Harry Potter or Twilight. In Harry Potter, it's like...they all end up marrying people they've known since they were kids. In Twilight, everyone has their perfect match, even Jake, who ends up falling in love with the newborn daughter of the girl he loves. And hey, while we're all into happy endings, Bella gets her baby and no one dies. Hooray. In Mortal Instruments, there is closure but not unrealistically.

Just about all aspects of Mortal Instruments have that balance: great, but not overdone. It's hard to find a book like that. One that I literally cannot put down. I spent all of last week reading during class instead of paying attention, which might or might not be worth the drop in grades.

I have a new favorite series.

On Impulse

2009-09-19T20:42:00.001-04:00

Being impulsive sucks.

Ignorance is Death

2009-09-18T19:08:00.005-04:00

It's sad how utterly unlikeable some people are.

For example, this girl in my "Current issues" class. I am not saying names, but she is my age and went to my elementary school and I have never liked her. Her name is five letters and starts with a B and could easily be replaced with another five-letter word that starts with B. So for purposes of this post, will refer to her as B.

Let's go back to last month. It's the first day of school, second block. I walk into my current issues class, and the first person I see is B, which is enough to make me want to walk out the door. But I figure that it's been a few years since I've had any interaction with her, so I should give her a second chance. Psh. That was a big mistake. On the third class of the year, when I had to be in a group with her and her "friend", I gave up on it. She's the same shallow, self-centered brat she's been since elementary school. Would give examples of her brattiness, but that would take two thousand words, and this post is going to be too long as it is.

So, today. In current issues class, we're supposed to be doing this project on a "controversial issue," based on a list our teacher gave us. B did eating disorders, maybe because she wants to be anorexic but doesn't know how/have the willpower, or maybe because she just wants it to seem like the does have an eating disorder - because destroying your body is "fun" and "glamorous"! So she was rambling on about her topic, and I was barely listening until she said this:

B: [incoherent rambling] So like, people have eating disorders because like, they think it's easier than exercising. [incoherent rambling]

No!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot express my utter revulsion at this statement any other way. But like any fuming-but-polite person, I waited until she was finished with her rambling before slamming what she said.

Me: *raises hand* Umm, I'm not trying to say you're wrong or anything, but people don't have eating disorders because they think exercising is too hard. It's actually...harder...having an eating disorder, like, it takes more willpower than just exercising. It takes a lot of, uh, willpower to resist eating when you're hungry all the time. And it makes you sick and cold all the time and you always feel like you're going to pass out. And a lot of people with eating disorders also over-exercise so that they lose even more weight. No. It's not because they're just...too lazy to exercise. It's because they're...sick...in the mind...and it's...not just about...*deep breath* They don't eat because they feel like they don't deserve to eat...not that I know from experience. But I've done research on it. So no. Just...no.

So, yeah. Incoherent, of course. At the best of times, I have trouble expressing my mind. At times when I'm really mad or frustrated...well. Yeah. Above rant explains adequately. I was trying not to come across as a jerk. I was trying not to sound like I actually have an eating disorder - which I don't. I was trying to express my ideas in a polite, coherent manner.

So much for that.

And what made me seriously ticked is that while I was talking, B just had this small oh-I-think-your-ideas-are-cute-because-I-know-more-than-you look on her face. And no, bitch, you DON'T know more than me. My mom AND her sister BOTH had eating disorders. It's in my fucking genes, okay? I've DABBLED in it myself, and I didn't just use that word cause it's cool! I've experienced this firsthand, but thankfully have passed that stage because it's all so stupid and pointless and makes it harder to make good grades. Plus, I know how my mom fared after her anorexia. Which is enough to discourage anyone from destroying themselves like that.

Some people are so ignorant. Everyone thinks they know what anorexia is. "It's that thing where girls don't eat, right?" No. It's that thing where someone of any age sees themselves as too fat or unattractive or just undeserving of nourishment. So they starve themselves. Not by eating nothing, which would for sure kill you. They do it by counting calories. Always on caloriecounter.about.com, checking calories on health food like bananas and spinach and onions, so you can measure out the right amount. Always measuring, always counting. But it's ironic: with all these numberes, you can't think about the values, just the numbers. Health doesn't matter. You just need to be thinner.

Eventually, you might cut back to 100 or 200 calories a day. (My record low was 80ish.) You continue to lose weight by exercising until you feel like you'll collapse from exhaustion. And even when you're not exercising, you're always tired. You wake up tired. You're always shivering from lack of body heat. Every time you stand up, no matter how quickly, you black out and almost pass out. Even just walking is a struggle because your legs are shaking so badly and just can't hold up the rest of your body. You weigh yourself obsessively, but no amount of weight loss is ever enough. You're always pinching the "fat" (mostly just skin) on your arms and stomach, wishing it would just go away. Hating yourself with every bite. Sometimes even inflicting pain on yourself as "punishment."

But those thoughts are bogus. You just need to sleep, and then everything will be better. You start taking painkillers to erase the pain and make yourself stop thinking and just sleep, because being tired doesn't always mean you can fall asleep.

And throughout it all, you're keeping it a secret. Hiding it from your family. Making sure no one ever knows, because they'll stop you, and kind of wishing they did know, for the same reason. But at the same time, you know it would be the end of ever losing weight like this. So you continue saying nothing. You continue laying awake at night, knowing that it's horrible and wanting to be normal. Wanting to be innocent, wishing you had never had this stupid idea in the first place. Because once you start, it's almost impossible to stop. Visions of You As You Are and a Better You pop into your head to keep you motivated. No matter how much you wish you were healthy and happy, the wish for weight loss is always greater.

And maybe the hardest part is knowing how bad it is for you - unless, of course, you're so far gone that you don't even care whether you live or die, maybe even hoping for death. Because you know it's unhealthy and deadly, but you do it anyway. Even when it seems like you can feel your organs being ground up for food. Even when you literally can't move from lack of energy or fall down from weakness. And you only care when it's at the point that you have so little sugar in your blood that you feel like you're going to die.

But it's going to get easier, right? Once you get used to the incessant emptiness in your stomach, the shaking in your fingers, the constant craving for sustenance? No. It gets worse. Until you feel like you're going to break from the division in your mind - to eat or not to eat? That is the question. And you eventually do break, shoving fats and grease and carbs into your mouth, sliding in clumps down your esophagus and into your stomach, which you know is expanding, but you don't care until the bowl is scraped clean.

That's when the guilt begins. The frustration, the inability to throw it all back up, the inability to just claw it all out. But that doesn't stop you from trying: cutting your skin, clawing yourself with fingernails until you bleed. Because somehow the pain makes you feel better. You deserve it. It's your punishment for being a disgusting pig with no willpower.

And when you're done, the craving starts again.

It's sick.

Stuff of Religion

2009-08-26T19:43:00.003-04:00

Bill Maher and Sam Harris discuss the idiocy of Christianity - singling it out among all the other world religions, of course.

My mother's network of conservative friends are all abuzz about this horrid clip from Real Time with Bill Maher, in which Bill Maher and Sam Harris (author of The End of Faith) discuss how stupid Christianity and Christians are.

So I watched the clip. I could barely stand to finish it. First of all, both of them have this arrogant tone of superiority for the whole almost-nine minutes of the video. Yes, they have a few good points. Like...some extremist Christians are pretty much a curse upon this earth. Their idea of religion doesn't even closely resemble whatever it is that religion is supposed to be.

Honestly, I don't believe everything in the Bible. I think parts of it are figurative and parts of it are outdated. (An example that works for both of these is caning children.) Parts of it are lost in time or lost in translation. It's a general guide, but one that was written thousands of years ago, for the people of the time and culture. You can't expect it all to apply to society today. I think parts of the bible were written in a way for the common people to understand it. I don't believe the earth was necessarily created in seven days. Seven "god days," sure, but based on scientific findings, it doesn't seem likely that earth was created in just a week.

So, no, I don't agree with people who say the bible must be followed completely and literally to be a good person. I don't believe everything in Revelation is meant to be taken literally. I don't believe women must be submissive to men and I don't believe that women shouldn't be allowed in authority. Maybe things worked well that way in a society thousands of years ago...but have we not progressed since then?

Yes, people like that are clueless. But so are the people who believe in nothing. Or rather: so are the people who only believe in science. Meaning that they only believe in what can be proven. So what if everything isn't as clear cut and obvious as gravity or the laws of physics? That doesn't mean it isn't there. That doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

Even if religion is based on faith, there are some things that you can't ignore. For example...crowds of people witnessing gold dust coming from nowhere. Hmm...has Sam Harris ever heard someone (or a crowd of someones) speak in tongues? How could they make that up? How could they speak a language they've never heard?

And, even if you can argue that point, you can't argue with the scientific fact that the big bang was a totally random event that had such a small probability of happening that it was hardly a probability at all.

And even after it happened, what is the likelihood of life existing on any level? Even the existence of microbes are incredibly unlikely given that they, as people like Sam Harris believe, evolved from...dirt. And then there's the existence of an ever-growing number of species on the earth, all of which are impossibly more complicated than a microbe.

And then you realize how unlikely it is that human life exists. That we developed culture, that we are able to devise language, that we can grow and raise our own food, that we are intelligent enough to wonder and find out where we come from.

By all rights, we shouldn't exist. When you think about all the totally random events that brought us to where we are now, how can you honestly believe that it all happened on its own?

"A Withered Past and Blurry Future..."

2009-08-09T10:56:00.002-04:00

School starts in ten days and registration is tomorrow. I'm so freaking joyful over it.

I mean, I guess I don't really know anything about what's going to happen this year. But I was optimistic about school last year, and that turned out just fabulous.

So yeah. Excuse me for having some doubts. Sure people say "high school is so much better than middle school!" But is that really so much of an accomplishment?

It's all just kind of depressing.

Yes, Racism is Dead

2009-08-03T18:00:00.002-04:00

I have the very best grandparents ever. Really. They are amazing people.

But my dad's mom and her husband have a few kind of scary issues. The worst is probably their very 19th century-esque racism. I try to overlook it, but sometimes I'm just flummoxed with how...close-minded they are.

Last night, for example. My grandmother was talking to my mother. About...well...grandkids, of course. So somehow they get talking about how my aunt told her daughter that a biracial marriage would be completely unacceptable.

Cue flummoxing.

I just fail to see what's wrong with biracial marriage. Okay, so I wasn't raised in the segregated south...but still. My grandmother is not an old-fashioned lady. She has a computer. An email. A Facebook page. Okay, so she lists "husband" as one of her activies...and as an interest. And she believes that good wives serve their husbands and do as they say.

But does your grandmother have a facebook?

It's just baffling how a society with such chivalry - ladies first, "yes ma'am", no, please, you enter first, I insist - can be so bigoted. So unfair and cruel. So close-minded.

Like I said before - my grandmother is a good person. She's always been nice to my family even when I dyed my hair black and even when my cousin did her hair in dreads and even when my brothers grew their hair out and started playing "that devil music", all of which go against what she believes southern white people should do. Even though she disagrees with basically everything we do (and yeah...she doesn't know most of it...), she's always nice and welcoming and friendly.

She was just raised with such horrible ideals. The best wife never argues with her husband. The best mother raises her children with a belt and paddle.

And the best Christian white families hate Christian black families.

WTF

2009-07-27T21:14:00.000-04:00

So today my brother came home from a month in Vermont.

All he can think about is how much he hates living here. How horrible we all are. How much he misses Vermont.

Yes, brother, I know mother has issues. I know father has issues. I know I have issues. Duh. And yes, I know it's chaotic. That's normal when you have a two year old and six year old in the house. You don't have to whine about it. Just SHUT UP and get OVER IT. The world wasn't made to please you.

My mother was all excited about him coming home. She made a special dinner for him and everything. And all he says to her is how much he hates it here. How much he wishes he was still in Vermont. How suckish everything is. He actually told her this!

Does he have any consideration for her feelings? Any concern for her at all? I mean, seriously! That's NOT something you tell your mother after a month of being away from home! And what about everyone else? He's said stuff like that numerous times - in hearing of the little kids. How does he expect them to take that? Is he trying to make little girls cry? Did a month in Vermont make him into such a jerk, or was he like that before he left?

Writer's Block

2009-07-20T19:52:00.004-04:00

If you ever talk to a writer, or if you are a writer, you will hear about this phenomenon called writer's block. It seems like most writers have writer's block most of the time, and instead of trying to write, they whine about it to their other little writer-friends.

Whatever.

So this one poet guy was teaching this one poetry class. And he says that writer's block does not exist. And the more I think about it the more I agree.

"What???" You may be asking, "then why do so many writers experience it??"

Well, um. Sometimes people go through dry spots in their writing. Sometimes people are busy and have no time to really write. But that's not writer's block.

The thing is, most people seem to be under the illusion that great writing comes from great inspiration. They're naive. (Sorry if that sounds arrogant. I think I know a lot more than I do.) Some people think that if you don't have great inspiration, then you can't have great writing.

Psh. What crap.

Forcing yourself to write might suck, but it's better than no writing. And it's borderline perfectionist to expect something to sound perfect in its first draft. Writing needs work, not inspiration.

So, closing with a quote. "Inspiration is for the weak."

Cliches

2009-07-03T22:49:00.000-04:00

"A thousand compliments can't make up for one insult."

"If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

Etc, etc.

Cliches would be much more effective if they weren't overused. Maybe if they carried more meaning, people would heed their message.

But then again, maybe not.

Psychoanalysis

2009-06-30T17:04:00.002-04:00

I know this guy. Some people think that this guy is a power-hungry control freak who looks down on the world. These people are right...to an extent.

But recently I realized that that's not exactly it. I was talking to him the other day and mentioned optimism. He said, jokingly, that he was an optimist until the world beat him down. Of course he was kidding, but it didn't take me much to figure out that those words actually are somewhat true.

From what I know of his childhood, which isn't much, he grew up in a not-so-friendly home. His dad was an abusive redneck trucker. This is all I know. But I think that his dad's words tortured him. I think that, like a lot of people, that he had a lot of problems in childhood. But unlike most people, he didn't fall into this chasm of low self-esteem. No...his ego was already too big for that. Instead, he blamed his problems on the world.

So now, he has no faith in anyone's abilities but his own. He doesn't see anyone else as competent. And I think that's why he always has to be in control of everything. So much so that he's ruining the lives of those around him with his constant micromanaging and know-it-all attitude and condescension. And he won't get any help. That would be too harmful to his ego.

I think it's just his way of surviving. I don't think he could deal with that chasm of self-hatred and self-destruction. So instead, he destroys the world.

But of course, that's just what I think.

Willow by Julia Hoban: My First (Probably Last) Book Review

2009-06-25T21:26:00.005-04:00

Willow. It's a YA novel by Julia Hoban, and quite possibly the most attaching book I've read in a long while.

I suck at book reviews and (possibly sour grapes) I hate reading book reviews. Or synopses. Or even the flap/back cover of the book. But Willow deserves an exception...

Willow is a 17-year-old girl. One night, she was driving her parents home after they drank a bit too much. It was raining hard, and she got into a car accident. Both of her parents were killed. To deal with the pain of losing her parents — and thinking that she's lost her brother's love for "killing" them — she starts to cut herself.

Wow...where do I start? Willow's pain is so fresh, so realistic. The author really gets into Willow's mind (and those like her). You can tell that the author has never actually cut (I don't think so, anyway), but she hit a few things spot on.

For example: At one point, Willow was thinking about how having the bike she left at her parents' house would make her life easier. But then she thinks something along the lines of "but my life doesn't deserve to be easy." I just about died of love for this author. Yes! Yes! I felt like screaming. This is the mind of a cutter that Cut never portrayed!

And Guy is so freaking lovable and perfect...maybe a little too perfect. I think a guy like him just does not exist. At the very least, he would be very hard to find. And it somehow seems that things were rushed a bit, especially at the end, but I can forgive that...I do the same thing in my writing. The only other thing I have to say is that the prose was a little bit undesirable in some places, but not too noticeably.

But really, this is the best book I've read in a very long time. I seriously recommend it.

I Made Lunch, and This is the Result

2009-06-19T14:47:00.006-04:00

My grilled cheese in its golden brown liciousness.
This actually turned out pretty awesome. The only thing about it that bothered me was that it was very buttery. (Our non-stick pan is, alas, no longer non-stick. Margarine is the easiest way to deal with this.) And because it was buttery, it was kind of mushy and gross in the center. But overall, decent.

This will be explained.
So after I finished my grilled cheese, I was still hungry. I already had the pan out, so I pulled a veggie burger out of the freezer (me = vegetarian) and cooked it pretty much to perfection.
Unfortunately, there was a severe lack of hamburger buns in the house. So I used the only bread I could find, which happened to be multi-grain. It looks kind of pretty, but it was horrible. I ended up ditching the cheese and bread and used half a hoagie roll instead.

Best lemonade ever.
My lemonade isn't the most aesthetically appealing drink ever, but my family loves it. It looks nasty because it's not watered down. Actually, it's so strong that if you drink too much of it, it burns your throat. I don't want to think about how much sugar is in each cup.

Dude, it's luminous.

Even in Times of Change, Mundane is Still Mundane

2009-06-17T21:24:00.006-04:00

All day I've been following the progress of the protests in Iran. I've been hoping and praying and doing everything I can to help the Iranians. Of course, I can't do much, but every little bit helps, right?

But I'm just sort of surprised every time I hear something, see something, or notice something that isn't related to the Iran election. Somehow, life goes on. Mundane is still mundane.

Two years ago, I wouldn't have cared much about the protests. I would have been unable to realize the significance, just because it wasn't in my own backyard.

But then again, two years ago, they didn't have the media outlets they do now. You can watch what's going on via YouTube and read input from Iranians via blogs. Twitter and Facebook and other such social networking sites are helping spread the word like never before. It feels like not only are we being informed of what's going on, we're being part of it. For the first time.

Of course, it's not the sites or the onlookers that will change the nation. The sites are merely a tool for the Iranians. A tool to accommodate their spirit of democracy and freedom.

And in the end, it's that spirit that will revolutionize Iran. These people are risking their lives by accessing these blocked sites. Amazing things can happen when people are willing to die for something.

It Never Had a Chance

2009-06-12T18:11:00.001-04:00

This is what happens when I try to cook...

Summer @ Tomorrow

2009-06-03T16:23:00.002-04:00

So, as the end of school draws ever-closer (ONE MORE DAY) I'm trying to figure out what to do with my summer. Right now, though, I think I'll do basically nothing...I'm getting too addicted to the Interwebs. Again

By the way...I've been scavenging various author blogs for cool people. So if I recently added you, I'm not a stalker. (Well, now you think I am.) (Of course, I could be saying that you think I am so you think I'm not...this is a never-ending cycle! Just take my word, 'kay? Thanks.)

Anyway. People-who-recently-gained-me-as-a-follower, be not afraid. I think you're cool!

Go awaaaayyyy

2009-06-02T17:13:00.003-04:00

I'm running out of excuses.

This is the sort of thing that everyone goes through at some point in their life: weird/creepy/annoying guy (well, or girl) asks you out. You say no. He asks why. You come up with an excuse on the spot. Despite this, he continues to bother you.

What am I supposed to do? I'm not just going to say, "no, I don't want to go out with you. You're weird. You're annoying. Leave me alone."

Last year I told him that my parents wouldn't let me date until I was older. He asked why I can't go behind their backs. I tell him that I don't keep secrets well. (If he knew me at all, he would know what a lie this is!)

Eventually he gave up on it, but then he started doing all this absurd crap to try to get me to feel sorry for him. He said he would become emo and started stabbing his wrist with a plastic spork at lunch. He started IMing me about how depressed he was. He claimed to become atheist because God would never turn his back on him like this.

Seriously...I don't care. I'm not going to pity you. I actually have been "emo" before, and...you're doing it wrong. Please, stop trying to get me to go out with you out of pity and do something better with your time.

Sea of Anonymity (And melodramatic, cliche titles)

2009-05-30T23:53:00.002-04:00

I'd almost forgotten how difficult it is to create yourself on the Internet. Especially on a site as big as Blogger.

My first exposure to online communities is somewhat of an embarrassment to admit. (I mean, Wikipedia? Seriously.) I joined the English Wikipedia several years back but found it much too large to establish myself. So I moved to its smaller cousin, Simple English. Smaller community and much more work to be done. Easier to become accepted into the geek club.

The same thing happened with fanfiction (also somewhat of an embarrassment to admit) but in reverse. I joined this smaller fanfic archive with a friendly community and a pretty layout. But when that site closed down, I joined fanfiction.net. It was like moving from a small suburban town to New York City. Waaay overwhelming. So much crappy fanfiction. The smaller archive had its share of badfics, but at least I knew the good authors.

That's what Blogger is like. Most blogs I come across are either a) in another language, b) hopelessly lame, or c) written by cool-sounding people about subjects I know nothing about.

This is where I prefer Livejournal. LJ has communities. Fandoms, pretty much. And you know that the average LJ-er is an angsty fangirl-ish teen so you pretty much know what to expect.

Blogger has a much bigger variety of people, for sure. But there's maybe too much people. Or maybe it's just the fact that they're all jumbled together. I like how you can look for people based on interests, music, movies, etc. But at least 75% of bloggers have "writing" and "reading" and "drawing" and "music" down as their interests. It doesn't tell you anything. And you can't really tell whether or not a person's blog is interesting based on what movies they watch.

And this bothers me. If I can't find blogs to read, what is the likelihood that anyone else will read mine?

Not a Wasted Day

2009-05-30T20:16:00.001-04:00

Gah. The pre-exam stress hurtzzzz. Like, literally. I'm pretty sure all the "STUDY STUDY STUDY" has worked its way from my mind to my digestive system, 'cause I haven't eaten practically anything all weekend without head-spinning nausea. And I think the whole end-of-the-year buzz is what has me in this state of dizziness, headaches, and borderline derealization.

Instead of studying today, I went to various music stores and played at least a dozen different types of guitars. I would like to say that I impressed people with my mad skills, but truthfully, an eleven-year-old poseur emo kid could play better than me. My hands are just too small to play my brother's 25-inch-fretboard-Ibanez. It hurts like death when I try. So today I played mostly small-scale guitars. Some of them were major suckage, but there was this micro Ibanez that was basically heaven. Never gonna afford it though. Sigh.

Also, Mountain Dew is great. Especially on a day so humid and hot that it's impossible to not leave the car running while you wait in various parking lots, even for five minutes.

Four more days...

Music > Fashion

2009-05-29T16:19:00.001-04:00

One of my pet peeves is how dreadfully generic pop music has become. You know those overused guitar and keyboard riffs you hear used in 75% of pop music? STOP LISTENING TO THEM. Those riffs weren't even that great the first time they were used. You don't have to use them over and over and over again.

The average teen today listens mostly only to top 100 hits they've heard on the radio. They have no taste in music. They only listen to what is popular and, occasionally, what they have grown up on

Why would you wear the t-shirts of bands that you have never listened to? If you don't listen to The Beatles, why wear a Beatles shirt? If you don't listen to the Rolling Stones, why wear their shirt?

So, today I saw this girl wearing a Beatles shirt. I asked, "Oh, The Beatles. Do you listen to them?"

She didn't catch my subtle sarcasm. "Oh, I don't even listen to them. I just liked the shirt."

My point exactly.

When did music become a series of meaningless fads?

Global Warming Sucks

2009-05-29T07:46:00.000-04:00

And they said Global Warming didn't exist.

For anyone too busy or lazy to read the article: 300,000 people die from effects of climate change every year.

What is this, you ask? Liberal propaganda? No. When Fox admits something is wrong, you know it's serious.

And what really sucks about this (besides the fact that 300,000 people are dying each year) is that the people dying aren't the ones causing the climate change. The people dying are the people of third-world countries that produce less than 1% of carbon emissions worldwide.

So...rich nations cause most of the climate change, but poor countries are the ones to pay for it? What kind of sick logic is that?

Human nature says that a lot of people won't try to cut down on carbon emissions until it threatens their own health. They don't care about those 300,000 people, as long as it isn't them. They might be a little concerned ("oh, that's horrible") but they won't really care until their own lives are threatened.

Are we really going to have to wait for that point? Does civilization always have to learn the hard way?

How I Know Teachers Need Funding

2009-05-28T21:04:00.000-04:00

Oh, how I love the many exploratory classes that don't matter at all.

Last class, my music tech teacher gave us one of our first actual assignments all semester. We were supposed to write a two-page paper about rock music of the 70's. (Completely on topic.) So instead of checking my email and playing minesweeper, I got to work and looked at Wikipedia's opinion of Rock music of the 70's.

I got stuck at one and a half pages. Yes, that is quite pathetic. Get over it.

So, I started adding all this random crap about "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." This is what it reads:

"Not only is the song still widely played on the radio today, but has been used as an anthem for civil rights and El Nino. This usage has been a subject of debate between scientists for centuries. Many hypothesize that this usage stemmed from the song's ability to draw up storms wherever it is played, leading many to believe that it has supernatural abilities."

This, along with increasing the top and bottom margins by a combined four-tenths of an inch, took me to two pages. I printed out the paper and turned it in to my teacher. He read over it, commenting on his intense dislike for ABBA, while I kept a totally straight face. (Well. "Totally" is a subjective term here.) He finished reading the paper and said, "This is a very good paper, Emily."

Um...thanks?

White Lies

2009-05-28T10:12:00.001-04:00

Around three years ago, I was at a department store with then three-year-old Jenna and my mother. We were riding down the escalator. Going up the escalator was this guy. I barely stopped myself from laughing when I saw him. He looked just like Simon Cowell, black T-shirt and everything. For a moment I thought he was Simon.

So I was a bit amused by that. But what happened next was more amusing.

Jenna had seen American Idol, of course. She knew who Randy and Paula and Simon were. She knew the names of some of the contestants that year. So she sees the Simon lookalike, and being a three-year-old, loudly proclaims...

"That guy looks like Simon!"

I burst into silent peals of laughter. Several people on the escalator smile and hold back laughs. I didn't dare look at the guy at whom the comment was aimed.

I thought about this today. Little kids speak whatever is on their minds, whether it is offensive or not. But over time, they are raised not to do that. They are raised not to say bad things about people, even if what they are saying is true.

So wait...parents are telling their kids to lie to people?

I don't know about anyone else, but I would much prefer knowing what's wrong with me than having people laugh at me behind my back. It might be embarrasing, but at least if they tell you, you can fix it.

White lies are more harmful than most people realize. Maybe little kids have it right. Maybe people should be honest with each other even when it's unpleasant.

Remember Kids...Wear Your Socks!

2009-05-27T23:04:00.000-04:00

Never underestimate the power of socks. (I'm sure you're all grovelling in the dirt right now, wondering what I could possibly mean by this.)

Well. My mother grew up in the hills of Tennessee. She never really wore shoes, much less socks. If had been totally left up to her, I would have been the same way. But luckily for me, my OCD father intervened. Thus I wear socks.

Unfortunately for my younger sister Jenna, my dad has given up on controlling my mother's carefree ways. I think all the fight in him has been drained, leaving him a directionless soul.

And poor Jenna...her feet smell disgusting. It's like a cross between piss, gym mats, and my dad when he's losing a video game. She has these old shoes she wears to play outside, and whenever she takes them off it's just horrid. If someone tells her that her feet smell bad, she runs out the room crying. (As six-year-olds do.)

So the moral of this story? Wear socks.

I Am Not on a Boat

2009-05-27T21:27:00.002-04:00

I'm on a boat! I'm on a boat! I'm on a boat!

Okay...I get it. I got it the first time. Now, let's move on as a culture. Por favor.

Don't take this the wrong way, young teens across America. I love how it's mocking rap, but it's just not that funny. And no, neither is "Like a Boss (ft. Seth Rogan)" or "Jizz in my Pants."

It's one of those things that you watch once and ask, "dude, what is this?" Like "The Mysterious Ticking Noise", Weird Al, and Soldier Boy (oops, I mean "Soulja" Boy!).

Sometimes, I think YouTube was the worst thing to happen to the Internet.

So About That "People" Thing...

2009-05-27T18:56:00.000-04:00

I just realized how horribly anti-social I sounded in my first post. Which I guess is fairly accurate, but still.

I don't mind having people read what I write. I love it, actually. I just don't like people who have already formed an opinion of me and expect me to conform to that expectation.

Maybe I just don't like expectations because I'm afraid that I won't meet them. Whatever. I just wanted a fresh start...with a new blog.

So...don't feel unloved if you're reading this. Emily loves you! (Unless you're conservative.)

Beware of Redneck

2009-05-27T18:17:00.000-04:00

These signs were posted in my neighborhood last weekend.

Their trailer wasn't stolen...it was stolin!*

One week later, all we have is a pizza box hanging on by a piece of duct tape.

Isn't it a delightfully redneck world in which we live?

* Also note the two different spellings of "thief."

Legend of the Blog

2009-05-26T16:45:00.002-04:00

So, once upon a time there was this girl. She loved writing, ripping words out of her skull and throwing them on the page, creating an annoying rant or a lovely poem.

This girl used to write in paper diaries. Then, she learned of this new-fangled idea called a blog. How could this be? She thought, You can write down your thoughts, and people can actually read them? Too good to be true! Quickly, she rushed to the nearest computer and created a blog. This was going to be so cool.

Here's a secret: this is not my very first blog post. The thing is, I sort of already have a blog. I have had it for almost a year now. But it has actual people on it. People = pressure. Pressure to conform to something that interests them, to censor my thoughts.

Truth: Being pressured to monitor my thoughts is not why I started a blog.

So, the birth of "Me, Uncensored."