Hero of the Day™

Who: Dog Davis.
Why: Because he wrote this article, in which he has the following to say about new Diet Coke Plus-

"There are now six types of Diet Coke; seven if you include Coca-Cola Zero. The latest is Diet Coke Plus. Plus what? Vitamins and minerals, of course. Each 12-ounce can contains small amounts of vitamins B6 and B12, as well as niacin, magnesium and zinc. It has a funky aftertaste, but that's not really the point. How messed up are you if you're drinking a caffeinated, artificially sweetened, flavored soda for its nutritional value? 'Man, this tastes funny, but at least I'm getting 15% of my daily allowance of zinc!' You want vitamins and minerals in your drink? Go to Jamba Juice."

Awesome.

Hero of the Day™

Everyone needs a hero, right? I have often had a "Hero of the Day": someone who just makes my day a little brighter in some way. It could be someone I actually know, someone in the news, a group, a fictional character...whoever! So it occurs to me that this could be an amusing thing to blog. I am inspired (appropriately enough) by my very first Hero of the Day™.

Who: Steven Van Dahm
Why: Steve is a friend of my husband's. He runs a great forum for their group of college friends, on which they discuss ... well, mostly video games, but internet weirdness, current events, music, any and all manner of subjects. Anyway, a recent topic of discussion revolved around the fact that Steve looks a bit (I largely disagree) like Ethan Suplee. Now, my favorite Ethan Suplee moment is when he gets totally pwned by the kids in Mallrats, and so my addition to the discussion was about how I'd love to hear Steve deliver that particular line.

Well, he obliged. And that makes him the very first officially blogged Hero of the Day™.

Book babbling

I promise I'll babble about books some more, really really soon:

Song of Solomon, Twilight/New Moon.

Edit:

I lied. It's been too long, and frankly, Song of Solomon just didn't impress me that much. As for Twilight and New Moon, all I can say is that if you are female and enjoy YA fantasy, GO READ THEM NOW. The third installment comes out on August 7th, which just so happens to be the day before my birthday.

Now, I did just finish Steppenwolf, and so I can probably say a few things about that.

1. Siddhartha is better.
2. The titular Steppenwolf may have been a learned man, but ultimately, I don't think he got it.
3. It's interesting that, as dated in some ways as the novel is, it's still pretty resonant. There are still those of us who consider ourselves intellectual and therefore outside of the mundane (bourgeois to Mr. Hesse), and there's a lot we could learn from Harry Haller.
4. Good book. Not as beautifully poetic as Siddhartha, and much more earthly bound. Still, I'd recommend it. Pay attention to the introduction; it's important.

I am on to Shakespeare (A Winter's Tale, I can't wait) and Jane Austen's minor works, as soon as they come in at the library. Plus I'll need to re-read HBP and The Golden Compass at some point. I gave up on some heavily literary-referential sci-fi jaunt called Hyperion. I gave it a honest, Nancy Pearl-worthy try, but it was just too much for me. If you want theology + sci-fi, go read Mary Doria Russell instead.

WaH

Hey. Wanna read me whine? Oh, c'mon, you know you do.

I don't feel good.
I am bored with my life.
I hate my job.
I don't want to be a grownup.
I feel like my friends have all forgotten me. They never email, hardly ever message, unless they want something, of course.

I suppose I could be all verbose about this shit, but I don't really feel up to it right now, and since it's just me whining, what's the point anyway?

There now. Wasn't that fun?

No wait, I'll elaborate one some counts, lest you think me a selfish child. My friends are busy. I know that. School is ending, and most of them are probably pulling their hair out right now. And I guess, really, if I didn't have friends who were smart and good in school, I'd be somebody different. I'd rather have the smart friends. It's just that some of them still find time to log onto networking sites and blog and do things online, and it's after a few weeks that I feel ignored. I wrote a friend recently and said something along the lines of "You know, I think people could send me an empty envelope in the mail, and I would still feel loved based on the fact that they took the time to write my name and put a stamp on and put it in the mailbox."

I feel compelled to point out that the friend I wrote that to has not yet responded. Shocking, I know.

So I'm only slightly selfish. I know they're busy. I just don't think anyone understands how truly emotionally high-maintenance I am. And you know, I tend to think that I do a lot for my friends. I go out of my way to be there for them. I only ask for a little of that back, but I feel like I don't even get that much, most of the time.

Or maybe I'm just a jerk.

Now, are you sure you wanted me to elaborate?

How to Read Literature Like a Professor, Thomas C. Foster

From Amazon.com (unspecified otherwise)
In this practical and amusing guide to literature, Thomas C. Foster shows how easy and gratifying it is to unlock those hidden truths, and to discover a world where a road leads to a quest; a shared meal may signify a communion; and rain, whether cleansing or destructive, is never just rain. Ranging from major themes to literary models, narrative devices, and form, How to Read Literature Like a Professor is the perfect companion for making your reading experience more enriching, satisfying, and fun.

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Plus, he provides me with an awesome reading list! This book was recommended by my friend Lindsay, and was much enjoyed. The language is what really makes it great: one definitely gets the feeling that one is sitting in on a favorite kooky professor's lecture. Thought-provoking, too...I caught myself thinking back on past reads in attempts to decipher things I'd missed the first time. I actually ended up buying a copy of this, as I feel that it'll be more useful in the long run in terms of learning to read more sensitively. Still, it's a fun read, and if you enjoy reading literature I'd suggest it. And man, there's that reading list. He mentions a lot of stuff I've meant to read but never got 'round to, plus a few things I wouldn't ordinarily have considered, but that sound reasonably interesting. As a matter of fact, I've already gone through Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon, which he raves about, and am currently chewing through T.S. Eliot and Joyce's Dubliners. So, stay tuned for those. Reading is fun, kids!

Hey.

I love you.

Go tell somebody else.

To continue: I'm becoming mildly obsessed with the news stories from Va Tech. On IU Fencing's Facebook group, we've discussed their fencers. Their website says that they're all ok, I guess as far as the webmaster knows. I don't really know any of them, but they were at College Nationals this year and last, so I thought of them quickly. I think about all the friends I have in college. I think about the fact that I and my husband work on a college campus... many, many people I know are somehow affiliated with colleges. Morbid, yes. But really, how can you help thinking about it when these things happen? I think that if this happened at IU or at Southern, I would just get on a plane and go. There would simply be no way that I could deal with the situation until I was there and could see my friends with my own eyes.

I read an article today that was discussing why people do things like this. It's not new; the article seemed to state the reasons why were different, though, based on the demands of society today. I think about anyone I know that's ever been termed a "loner", myself included. Could I ever do something like that? No. It makes me want to walk up to anyone sitting alone or looking sad and say "Hey. How are you today? Do you need to talk?"

I dunno. I think all we can do is love each other as much as possible. It's hard to say what else really matters.

Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card

From The New York Times Book Review, Gerald Jonas
. . . an affecting novel full of surprises that seem inevitable once they are explained. The key, of course, is Ender Wiggin himself. Mr. Card never makes the mistake of patronizing or sentimentalizing his hero. Alternately likable and insufferable, his is a convincing little Napoleon in short pants.

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No, Mr. Card certainly never patronizes or sentimentalizes Ender. And that's what makes the book so weird. As a sci-fi novel, it's perfectly cool; the dialogue is what you'd expect, the writing is so-so, the imaginative qualities are excellent, but the main characters are little kids. Preternaturally brilliant little kids, grant you, but kids just the same. And honestly, it's hard to remember that. So it gives the book a rather unusual dynamic. Beyond that, though, it's a pretty good read. The descriptions of all the War Games sound awfully fun...can't wait for anti-grav laser tag. On the more literary side, though, Card actually does an admirable job of probing the inner workings of humanity. Surrounding the brilliant little boy is a big problem ... that's been dealt with in a tragically thoughtless fashion. I greatly enjoyed (well, sort of) Ender's struggles within himself to reconcile the part of him that is "human" with the part of him that is "monster". (Working hard for no spoilers, here.) The climax (as opposed to the ending) is sad on multiple levels, most of which have to do with humanity's stupidity. Actually, I suppose that "stupidity" could also be interpreted as "survival instinct," in which case it's hard to place blame in such a fashion.

...In thinking about it, I have an argument for it merely being stupidity. But to post that here would be necessarily spoiler-rich, so I won't.

Again, I'll recommend, but more for the sci-fi lover than for anyone with general literary interests. Science fiction writers so seldom have a way with the language. It's not so ridiculously sci-fi as to be utterly avoided if you've an aversion to such things, however. Somewhere in between Stranger in a Strange Land and Snowcrash on the geek scale, I'd say.

The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood

From Library Journal
In a startling departure from her previous novels ( Lady Oracle , Surfacing ), respected Canadian poet and novelist Atwood presents here a fable of the near future. In the Republic of Gilead, formerly the United States, far-right Schlafly/Falwell-type ideals have been carried to extremes in the monotheocratic government. The resulting society is a feminist's nightmare: women are strictly controlled, unable to have jobs or money and assigned to various classes: the chaste, childless Wives; the housekeeping Marthas; and the reproductive Handmaids, who turn their offspring over to the "morally fit" Wives. The tale is told by Offred (read: "of Fred"), a Handmaid who recalls the past and tells how the chilling society came to be. This powerful, memorable novel is highly recommended for most libraries. BOMC featured alternate. Ann H. Fisher, Radford P.L., Va.

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Fascinating and scary in the the Huxley/Orwell-ian sense. Fundamentalists have taken over. Women cannot hold jobs, and are forbidden to read. The narrator is the titular handmaid, government-issued to the older scions in the community and then forced to produce children in order to maintain her position. It's sad and frightening in that this woman remembers her life before, where she had a job and a husband and a child ... all of which taken away from her. The language is very simple and direct, yet still narrative. I enjoyed noticing the multiple references and metaphors for parts of the body. The entirety of society is in some way sexually repressed ... even the men are not really supposed to enjoy the act of intercourse. There's also a lot of reference to color; women's roles in the society are color-coded. "Marthas" are green, Wives are blue (Virgin Mary reference, perhaps?), and Handmaids are red. The narrator's sense of the importance of color is striking in a world that attempts to remove much of what is enjoyable and aesthetic from society.

Ultimately, though, Atwood makes a bit of a departure from Orwell's 1984 and Huxley's Brave New World in that this fundamentalist society is a sham. Even the heads of the community secretly acknowledge that there is still a desire, or perhaps a "need" for what they call depravity. The Wives and the Marthas typically despise the Handmaids, yet there are still times where all three classes join together in breaking the rules - a moment of sisterly solidarity. There is, of course, an underground movement of questionable authenticity as well.

I recommend this. The language finds the balance between artistic and prosaic. Plus, as with any of these "watch out for the future" type things, there are warnings and messages to be had. Perhaps in the final count, Atwood wants us to simply be grateful for the freedoms that we have.

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Sadly, I had to leave this, and now coming back to it I am not positive I managed to remember what else I wanted to say. This whole "book report" thing is going to be an experiment in reading/processing sensitively. I'm probably going to be reading a fair amount of literary criticism in the near future in order to aid me in that goal. Stay tuned for Ender's Game, and perhaps the long-promised comparison of Will in the World and Shakespeare by Another Name. Don't expect anything great from that one, though. I procrastinate too often; it's been a while now since I finished them.

Books?

I suppose, if all else fails, I could use this space to write about the books I read. With that in mind, I'll see if I can't come up with something shortly for the following:
1. The Handmaid's Tale, Atwood
2. Ender's Game, Card

Sick and tired?

I'm sick. Standard throat/sinus junkiness. Makes me feel groggy all the time. Won't be singing tonight. Fun and games.

Beyond the sick, I'm just having general feelings of blah-ness, and I'm trying to figure out where those are coming from.

My husband says that I'm very self-aware. I'd like to think so. I realize that everyone has baggage, and maybe I have more than most. I'm curiously anti-therapy, though. And so my self-awareness stems from a desire to work out my own problems. Biggest problem? Same as anyone: self-esteem. We've all got our ebb and flow. What I'm noticing lately, though, is that being (theoretically) on the cusp of things leaves me in some sort of gray zone where it's just ... kind of like the sinus thing, really. I don't feel bad, per se, but I just don't feel quite like me. Something's slightly off; my equilibrium is just the tiniest bit askew. So why am I off-balance, despite the appearance of being headed for some breakthroughs?

Job first. It has its ups and downs. Some things I like, some I don't. Changes are ahead though: I'm waiting to hear the results of an interview. I'm waiting to be scheduled for another one. And, I'm waiting to get started on adding some things to my current position which will help me move forward. So, things are on the horizon. Maybe it's the waiting, though...the notion of doing more or being more makes what I'm doing (or not, as the case may be) now that much more of an uncomfortable fit. Plus there's always the idea that all these other plans may fall through. Part of this, as well, stems from my looking at colleagues from graduate school and feeling as though they've succeeded that much faster than I have. I have, as my brother once called it, a "persecution complex," where I feel as though I'm somehow being singled out (by the universe?) in some way: missing out on job opportunities, losing touch with people (I think that it's something personal), or whatever. I take many things personally, I guess. Paranoia. Anxiety. Thanks, Mom!

So. What else? Well, I didn't make a New Years' Resolution to lose weight or get in shape or anything, but I simply took the opportunity to make the attempt to start good habits. And I've done pretty well. I go to the gym and do cardio at least twice a week. I do an upper- or lower-body weight routine at least 3 times a week. Ab routine 3 or 4 times. Plus I'm fencing again. So, once again, it can be assumed that better things are on the horizon. I can already see a difference in some things...I look a bit thinner, my arms are a bit more solid, etc. I'm working really hard on being patient, instead of doing the whole "Damn it, I've worked out for a week, why don't I look like a swimsuit model already?" thing. So maybe that patience is wearing a little thin, is all.

Maybe I'm just in a gloomy mood. I can't really pinpoint anything exactly that's got me down. I'm just down. I've rambled. At least "Ramblings" is the title of this blog, so I don't feel that I've misrepresented myself. I don't know if I had a point to make...I think I just wanted to get some of that stuff out. Perhaps if I think of a point later, I'll make it.

Don't Wanna

Some days I'm ok with getting older. Today, I just don't want to. Today I am wearing a suit. Wearing it poorly, I think. I got a haircut that I don't like that makes me look like Ramona Quimby. I feel like a little kid playing dress-up. Not just superficially, either. I go to work and I feel like I'm fooling people into believing that I know something about libraries and books and all. I mean, I have a diploma, but I feel so green sometimes. I feel that the only thing separating me from the student workers is the fact that I don't wear jeans every day. And honestly, sometimes I feel as though they're more knowledgeable, capable, and valued than I am. They know what's going on. My boss knows what's going on, too, but he doesn't often tell me. Why do they need me? I'm part-time and when I'm not there, a student does my job. I honestly don't know how to differentiate myself from that. The person who had this job before me was the first one to have the job at all, and he did the bare minimum, and students cover the desk when I'm not here, so it seems as though things were just fine without me here. I don't know how to make a mark.

I want to be a student again. I want to shuffle to class in jeans, flip flops, and my cut-off sweatshirt. I want to read Shakespeare and soak in what professors tell me. I want them to ask me questions so that I can think of things I've never thought of before. I don't know how to do it by myself. I don't want to worry about my vacation time, insurance, and what needs to be done. Let me be 20 again. Let me have my 20 self back. I promise I'll take better care of her this time. I won't eat such crap. I'll go to the dentist. Let me be beautiful and silly and thoughtless and carefree. Is it any surprise that I didn't value it when it was mine?

You know, I've spent a lot of time telling my younger friends that my apparent confidence and self-awareness is an act. I really believe that to be true. But sometimes, I feel like such a bad actor. The person that truly needs to be convinced is me, and I don't buy it; not for a second.

I'm whining. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow. For today, though, I want to go home and read and eat junk food and not care about any of it. I think I lost my innocence the second I started caring.

When did I become old?

Contrition

Reasonably often in my life, I look back at past relationships, and I am sorry for how I behaved. Not only romantic relationships, although I admit that generally those are the ones I look back on. As I grow older, I put a lot of effort into understanding myself: how I do things, why I do things, what I think about things, etc. In doing so, it's amazing how often I realize what must've been the motivation behind past behaviors; sometimes not only my own, but those of the other person as well. For the most part it's a pretty great thing. I'm proud of the things I've been able to come to terms with, and I'm glad that I understand my baggage. My hope is to keep perspective in order to better advise others, should I ever have the opportunity. Plus any breakthrough I have keeps me one step ahead of going into therapy. I'd like to see how far I can get without professional help.

The interesting part of all this is that when I have these revelations, I find myself wanting to contact the other person in question, and tell them all the things I realized. I want to apologize and explain my actions to them. I want them to know that I understand it now, and that I'm sorry they had to put up with whatever they put up with. Or didn't, I suppose. The existence of the Internet makes this a particularly interesting proposition, given that I am actually in contact with a fairly large percentage of people from my past through things like email and Myspace. If I want to, I can message them with my apologies. The question, though, is whether or not I should. I guess I wonder what their reaction will be. Maybe they've forgotten all about it. Maybe they really just don't care anymore. Maybe they'll say thank you. Maybe they'll come away with realizations of their own. What would you do if some person from your past suddenly contacted you and said "Man, you know, I was thinking about it, and I realize that I was pretty crazy some of the time. Sorry about that. Thanks for putting up with it"? What would you think? That this person wants to be a part of your life again? That they're still a wacko? The truth of the matter is that I still care about anyone I ever cared about, and I want them to know it. I want them to know that I'm sorry for anything I did that was upsetting or confusing or hurtful. I don't hurt people conciously. Thanks to marriage, I've come to realize that sometimes I do say things that are below the belt; that some part of me knows will hit where it hurts...but I realize after the fact, and I feel horrible for doing it. And I'm going to try my damndest not to do it in the future.

I had a dream last night about some old friends. They're not long-lost, particularly, but we haven't been in contact for several months, either. I was involved with one of them for a little while, and it was a strange situation. In the dream we were just trying to communicate and we were failing. And then I woke up, and suddenly realized, in part, what our problem had been all along. More than that, I realized that it was still a problem for him, and has probably held him back from many things in life. Should I tell him these things? Would it serve its purpose?

There's another old flame floating around. My relationship with him has been a sounding board for me as adult: something I've held up in order to examine my behavior, or sometimes something that I look at through the lens of other realizations. I've learned a lot about my behavior in relationships, period...there are, of course, many common threads. With him, though, his reactions tell me so much about how I affected other people. And I'm just so sorry about it. It's not that I want to go back, or that I carry a torch...he's married, so am I. I'm happy with the here and now. I just would like to tell him why I was the way I was, and that I'm sorry it was problematic for us. But I think he'd just think I was nuts.

Is it simply too late for me to be contrite?

Meditation -- on.

I've been interested in the concept of meditation for years. I've never managed to get really into it thus far because I don't think I'm the type of person who can do such things by themselves. I have zero focus, really, unless someone is standing there, asking it of me. I learn best in a classroom, essentially.

Along the same lines as meditation, I've recently been working at "clearing my mind." I often find my mind racing from one subject to the next, and sometimes it's just really obnoxious. So my question is, how does one clear the mind? What is a clear mind like? It seems as though the entire concept would, at some point, fall back on itself. If you're focused on clearing your mind, aren't you still going to be thinking of something; namely, whether or not your mind is clear?

Am I merely misunderstanding the concept of a clear mind? I have to admit that sometimes I think I catch it, if only for an instant. This morning, for example, on my way to work, I tried to think of nothing but my breath, coming in for four steps, going out for four. And for a few minutes, that felt pretty great, and I wasn't really thinking about anything else. Is that the clear-mindedness aspired to by yoga practitioners?

I suppose that the point of it is that it is something to be practiced and I should just keep at it. I am mostly unsure of whether or not I'm doing it right. Perhaps it's all just ridiculous. Life being but a dream, and all.

On that subject:

A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July--

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear--

Long has paled that sunny sky;
Echoes fade and memories die;
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die;

Ever drifting down the stream--
Lingering in the golden gleam--
Life, what is it but a dream?

--Lewis Carroll

Shakespeare

Not too long ago I read Will in the World, which is a (very well-) hypothesized biography of Shakespeare as we generally acknowledge him to be, i.e. the man from Stratford-on-Avon, etc. I read some other stuff in between (Corelli's Mandolin, recommended if you like Marquez; Tuck Everlasting; Island of the Blue Dolphins, good for a bit of nostalgia), and now I've just started Shakespeare by another Name, which is essentially a biography arguing that "Shakespeare" the author was actually Edward de Vere, [Seventeenth] Earl of Oxford.
So far I've only read the introduction and maybe half of the first chapter, but I'm already blown away by the difference in these two ideas. I don't think the author of the de Vere bio is specifically targeting the work done in Will in the World, necessarily, but he's already blown so many holes in the typical idea of Will Shakespeare that I'm already finding it difficult to believe that "Shakespeare" was a reasonably uneducated, middle-class actor from the country. Honestly, if you look at it that way, it sounds downright silly.
More will be said on this subject when I'm a little further in. Expect at least a book report, and at most a full-blown essay comparing the two theories. Whee, fun.

Little Miss S

I have, at many points, vowed eternal love for Pandora.com. My favorite thing is to be minding my own business and be suddenly confronted with a song I love and probably haven't heard in many, many years. I just got hit with one such song: Little Miss S by Edie Brickell & New Bohemians. I used to have the tape. I bought it used at The Emporium. Little Miss S was probably my favorite song on the album. It's like greeting a long-lost friend when one hears a strain of music, forgotten but familiar, and clicks over to see what it is. The heart leaps upon the realization. No, seriously.

The funny thing is, listening to it again, recalling the lyrics, I've no idea why I ever liked it so much. I think part of it was merely the title. I am, after all, a little miss S. But check out the lyrics. Those don't describe me in the slightest. Never could, never would. What's fascinating, though, is that I think Edie Brickell foresaw the future in some fashion. This song doesn't describe me, but it gets someone like Paris Hilton spot on. It absolutely describes the celebutante (don't you just love that word?) in all her trashy glory. How'd she do it? I suppose there's nothing new about the concept of a talentless rich girl, living fast and leaving a good-looking corpse, but they really seemed to be a somewhat recent phenomenon, didn't they? They fascinate me. They hold such power over the general population; somehow convincing us that they are beautiful, or talented, or important, when they're really probably just dysfunctional messes, begging for fleeting attention in place of meaningful relationships. We live vicariously through them when in fact we probably have much better lives. Think about it next time you wish you were rich and famous. Would you trade that life for your friends, your family? I don't think I would.

I guess there wasn't really a grand and glorious point to this, but I told myself that I'd wait until something really caught my attention before talking about it here. Nothing like the emergence of an old friend to take you out of yourself, at least for a little while.

Application of Self

When I told Andrew that I'd decided to return to this blog, he asked me what I intended to do with it. I found myself stumbling through an attempted explanation of wanting to do various things: focus on varied interests, find some disclipline in furthering those interests...ultimately, I guess, I'm looking for lessons in application. In dealing with online networking, etc., one of the things we're often asked is "What are your interests?" I really kind of hate that question. I'm interested, to some degree, in so many things. The problem is that I don't really apply myself to most of them.

Maybe to any of them. I don't know where to begin.

I have a good friend who says that this is the curse of particularly intelligent individuals. We're doomed to find everything interesting, and to be unable to focus wholly on any one thing. We're never going to be the best at something. In a lot of ways, it's a really valid concept. I see it in him, myself, many of those closest to me. And so my question becomes, how do I change this?

While I was in school, it was easy to ignore this lack of application. There was always something immediately demanding attention and application: a paper, an exam, something to be read. Now that I'm an "adult", I don't have that out anymore. Why do you think I'm in such a hurry to go back to school, yet again? The thing is, there really are things to which I could apply myself. Now's the time to develop hobbies, to find out what I like and what interests me, to delve further into how my brain works, and how I view the world. I'm even sort of half-heartedly working on professional interests, eyeing a topic that will most likely make for some pretty interesting and potentially important research. Still, I feel afraid of the notion. I feel that I'll just talk about it, maybe do some research when there's nothing better to do, and never really do anything about it.

Yes, I'm talking about discipline. I don't have it in any great abundance. I'd like to, if only because I believe that it would lead to a better understanding of me. I look at the things I say and do, the things I "blog" about, and I realize that they're so shallow. If we watched a movie last night, I'll say that I liked it, perhaps, but I'll hardly ever say why. Same with anything else.

Does any of this make any sense? It's really just something to work on. And I guess that the only way to work on it is to make the effort to go an inch further, for now, into the things I choose to discuss. Hence, this blog will (theoretically) be an experiment in deeper thought. Probably about shallow topics to start with, since it might be easiest to analyze a song I'm currently obsessed with, or a movie we see, or a random item of internet-ness that I feel the need to share. Start small, eh? I don't know if I want to discuss any professional ideas, as someone could conceivably steal my ideas. Is that silly and paranoid?

Just some thoughts for a Sunday afternoon. If I take them to heart, I'll get off the computer directly and go DO something with myself. Ask me later if I made it to the gym.

Back again.

Well, we see what happened with that particular idea. Not a thing. I decided that hanging out on LJ was more important, given that's where my friends were, and that's how I communicated and kept in touch with them. Of course, now I also have a Myspace, because there's a collection of friends over there. And now, I'm thinking again about having a more "grown-up" and somehow more adult-friendly "blog" as opposed to an LJ. I still don't think there's a difference. But I'm willing to entertain the notion. Maybe I'll post different things here. Maybe I'll just cross-post. Who knows? I can be spontaneous...I'm completely allowed. So there.

blog vs lj

so, a while back, andrew & david & i had a conversation about the difference between a blog and a livejournal. basically, i feel that there isn't one. there's just internet snobbery. blogs seem to be generally focused on one topic of discussion, and not so much personal life. while personal life can certainly be boring, i find one person proselytizing on a particular subject ALL the time pretty boring as well.

hence, i have joined the cool kids in blogdom. i haven't quite decided what i'll do with it yet. perhaps, since i do conceivably have free time over the summer, i shall attempt to discuss a topic of note with each post. we'll see. it's mostly an experiment, to function in this community as well as in the lj community, and determine any differences that may exist. self education, if you will.

cheers.