Quote of the Day

"A man has as many social selves as there are individuals who recognise him and carry an image of him in their mind."

- William James, 1892

Some Amusement During Exams

You cant spell studying without dying!

University is like a dementor - it sucks your happiness away and steals your soul.

Procrastination is like masturbation; at first it feels good but in the end you're just screwing yourself.

 

Bah dum bum BAH! *bows*
"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all week!"

Nyx Rox my Sox

Just cuz ;)
Found this cute program and decided to share. I'm generous that way :p
At least now you'll know what songs I'm talking about!
Enjoy!

Quote of the Day

"I never will forget those nights,
I wonder if it was a dream,
Remember how you made me crazy?
Remember how I made you scream?
Now I don't understand what happened to our love
But babe, I'm gonna get you back,
I'm gonna show you what I'm made of

I can see you,
Your brown skin shining in the sun,
I see you walkin' real slow and you're smilin' at everyone
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone"

- Ataris, The Boys of Summer

Grandpapa's Secret

My grandfather has arranged to donate his body to science once he passes on. I always thought it was an amazingly selfless and unbearably difficult decision to make, especially since he asked the the rest of the family to legally agree not to counter his decision once he's gone, which must have been almost unbearable for him to ask.

My grandmother could never understand, and my mother found it incredibly difficult to do so, but everyone in the family signed off on it, because it was his wish to help the scientific community.

His body will now go wherever it is intended straight from the morgue. No burial, no ceremony.

When I was first told, I was too young to understand fully, but I always knew he was doing what was right for him.

Recently, I was reading PostSecret, and the confessions of two strangers struck me;

 

-----Email Message-----
Sent: Sunday, November 30, 2008 10:04 AM
Subject: re: body donor
My med school has a memorial service at the end of anatomy for the students and the families of those who donated their bodies, including a slide show of the donors when they were alive. I don't remember the last time I cried so hard.

 

It touched me and, although he is half a world away, for an instant I was somehow connected to my grandfather. I feel I now understand the implications of his decision. And I am touched that the recipients of his donation will understand too.

Who is that standing over me with a fan and a never-ending supply of polystyrene balls?

Last night marked the first official snowfall of the season.

As I stepped out of the student services building, I could hear the gasps and excited shouts of those who had crossed the breach between the artificial toastiness of the activities building and the frostiness of another cloudy, starry night just before I had. Based on who was doing the shrieking, and what I've cynically come to expect from this university's typical social climbing, fashion conscious, self-involved, petty princesses (most of whom delight in congregating around doorways and in hallways just before and after lectures so that it's impossible for anyone passing by to get through), I came to the conclusion that it was probably about someone's new Prada purse or Fendi fur and directed my attention elsewhere.

And had to gasp myself.

While I had been in the activities building for a little under 3 hours, little flurries of snow had made their long journey from the clouds to share their icyness with the sidewalk and roads. Everything was covered in fine, white powder; not enough to completely blanket, but just enough to give everything a white glow. And it was still coming down, slowly but surely.

Beautiful.

Compared to last year, this fall had been long and drawn out, accompanied by occasional days of pseudo-Indian summer. The length of the days might be shortening but the temperature was sticking firmly in the positives. And those who knew what was good for them (read: those who knew what lay in store over the next 8 months of winter - like mountains of snow, negative 40 degree weather and severe wind chill), were quick to take advantage of these days. I, myself, am proud to be one of them.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Name and I staged a winter protest. Upon opening the curtains and seeing the sunshine pour in, we were struck with a wonderfully impulsive, childish idea that, had we been 5, our parents would have dismissed in an instant. Unable to give up the idea of summer just yet, we dressed up in our warm weather wear, consisting of a sleeveless shirt, shorts and slippers for him, and spaghetti straps, a skirt and flip flops for myself. Armed with a Frisbee and light sweaters we bounded through the streets, laughing and procuring strange glances from passer-by's, while simultaneously putting in a quick call to invite along everyone we knew.

Despite the fact that only one friend showed up (in their defence, it was midterm season), we had a great time playing Frisbee barefoot on the main campus field. I couldn't aim right to save my life, but by the end of it my catching skills had improved significantly. The majority of people gave us strange looks in passing, and there must have been those who thought we were completely nuts, but it was one of those moments that everyone probably wished they were having instead. As if that wasn't bad enough, knowing that we all went back to my place afterward and had banana splits would have turned them green with envy.

Jealous? I know. Oh well, don't live in regret. Carpe diem!

Yesterday, though, the day had been cold as hell, as the many days before it, giving me a valid excuse to spend most of the day in the underground mall. It was the first time I'd been back in ages - all semester, in fact. My vow to not go over-budget again this year has thus far worked only because I have suppressed the shopaholic in me and avoided the malls all term. Yesterday was a great test of strength since I'd been so deprived, and I went a tad crazy; but I didn't buy anything (not even that bikini I decided I really needed despite the fact that winter was coming up and I didn't know anyone with a pool). I refused to give the little green man any satisfaction, and later that night, this was to be my reward; little flecks of polystyrene balls gently floating down, practically in slow motion.

So calm. So peaceful.

Welcome back, Winter.

Quote of the Day

"Part of the beauty of falling in love with you,
Is the fear you won't fall"

- Joshua Radin, The Fear You Won't Fall

Together

The beauty of the Internet.

This week on PostSecret:

-----Email Message-----
Sent: Sunday, November 09, 2008 8:58 AM
Subject: So sorry for your loss.

I don't know if we have read your beloved's obituary, but my husband and I read your secret -- one of our favorite things is to read PostSecret on Sunday morning when we're still bleary-eyed and in need of coffee, making up stories about the poster's lives -- and he hugged me because it made me cry, and touched the screen saying, "it's really beautiful."
So you just became a part of our story. I wanted to share this with you, because I would be honored to be a part of yours.

 

-----Email Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, November 12, 2008 10:19 AM
Subject: Obituary Secret

To both the sender of the obituary postcard and the person who responded, your words and thoughts were both beautiful enough to make me cry. I work at a weekly newspaper and handle the obits, and wonder about the life of every single person whose obituary comes across my desk.
Sometimes, I shut down a little.
You can only think about death so much. But your secrets made me remember, as I have to every now and then, that obituaries are really more about life.
Thank you.

Quote of the Day

“To men a man is but a mind. Who cares what face he carries or what he wars? But woman’s body is the woman.”

– Ambrose Bierce (1958)

Quote of the Day

"I'm a saint and I'm a sinner,
I'm a loser, I'm a winner,
I am steady and unstable,
I am young but I am able"

- Jessica Andrews, Who I Am

Voicemail

Its beauty never ceases to amaze me.

This week on PostSecret:

-----Email Message-----
Sent: Sunday, October 26, 2008 5:46 PM
Subject: grandma's voicemail
I have three voicemails my 34 year old cousin left me on my cell phone before she died of ovarian cancer over three years ago. In 3 years I will be older than she was when she died and my goal is to keep those voicemails until then. Maybe I'll keep them forever.

 

-----Email Message-----
Sent: Sunday, October 26, 2008 10:16 PM
Subject: grandma's voicemail
I work for a major cell phone carrier. About once a year we hear of a story where someone is desperately hanging on to a voicemail from a lost loved one. We will put a hard copy of a voicemail from a lost loved one in your hands if you ask. It could be the greeting on their phone or a message they left on yours. We want you to have those memories. Please ask.

Quote of the Day

"For every act there are two reasons: a good reason and the real reason"

- J.P Morgan

Quote of the Day

"Said I'll always be your friend,
Took an oath, I'm-a stick it out till the end.

Now that it's raining more than ever,
Know that we'll still have each other,
You can stand under my umbrella,
You can stand under my umbrella."

- Mandy Moore, Umbrella (acoustic)

Quote of the Day

"We sat and watched the sun go down,
Picked a star before we lost the moon.
Youth is wasted on the young,
Before you know it's come and gone too soon."

- Robbie Williams, Eternity

Quote of the Day

"We are young!
Heartache to heartache we stand!
No promises, no demands.
Love is a battlefield.

We are strong!
No one can tell us we're wrong!"

- Pat Benatar, Love is a Battlefield

Stepford Wife in the making?

So I see myself becoming a Stepford wife.

Little too soon? YEAH! Of course.

But what else can there be beyond a certain point? What else is there to a relationship after you've reached...this...and arrived at...this place?

I realize I'm being ridiculously cryptic (not to mention, I'm being just plain ridiculous too), but I've never done something like this. Something that might actually...matter. So bear with me; I'm finding difficulty putting it into words.

You know, people think that there's 'like', then there's 'love' (ugh - don't even get me started), and then there's different variants of growing and sharing and caring. ...but beyond that? It seems to me all the components are pointing to something: one headlong rush towards the alter. In growing relationships, marriage becomes the inevitable.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not talking about a wedding; that's a whole separate arena - the whole romantic proposal, rock-the-size-of-my-fist, "oh I knew this would happen for you!", wedding registries, white dress, big reception, four-tiered cake with the little people on top (of course) - I'm not saying it's a fate worse than death, but it's more stress than it's worth and it's definitely not for everyone.

I'm talking about marriage. It's almost as if you're supposed reach this 'magical', imaginary point in the relationship (very similar to that magical point where you're supposed to miraculously turn from a teenager into an adult) where you're supposed to say  "Oh. Well this is it! There's no where else this relationship can go but marriage! Lets do it!" Out rolls the white picket fence, the 2.4 kids and the little puppy bounding about in the back yard. Not to mention the knitting, carpooling, mortgages and hosting Saturday night dinner parties; none of which I actually have a problem with, per se (especially not the puppy part). It's just everything else.

The lifestyle is a choice. If you want it? More power to ya! But if not, there's got to be another way the relationship can go. ...right?

And much, much further down the line, after you've reached and passed the 'inevitable' exchange of vows, are you paying for your choices? When it comes to the point that you're with someone because you have this life, but you're not necessarily happy with the way you're living. Yes, you have the wonderful picturesque life and the great guy and the perfect, little, happy, smiling kids - the life that all grown ups and Disney movies tell kids is the way you should hope your life turns out. But what if that's not really what you want? Or what if it is, but you're not sure you want it, or that you're ready for it just yet? What if you still want to find out what else there is to life?

And is it okay to step on other people's feelings (whether its reluctantly or not) to fight for what you want? Because your actions aren't just about you anymore; they affect the whole 'unit'. The binding laws of marriage have suddenly linked every decision you make to another who may or may not share the same feelings, views, wants, desires as you. If that wasn't bad enough, everyone who interacts with you, who knows you, sees you as part of this 'unit'. Your family, your friends, your bank accounts and retirement funds. Everything in your life is touched by this decision - and although I feel pretty sure you're delusional if you don't see that, could it be that you can still maintain some individuality and freedom of choice? (and if so, how?) But if this is miraculously not the case (which I drudgingly suspect it is), what do you do then?

Call me young, but I cant see myself living 'behind' someone just for the sake of the stability of their life, their world, their happiness. What about my happiness? And yeah, call me the cynic or the bitch or whatever, but I've got to look out for myself. No one else will. Not really, at least.

If I'm ever in that situation, where I'm in a relationship - which by definition is supposed to be intrinsically fulfilling - for someone else's sake and not my own, you can be sure as hell that I'm going to end it. And I would expect the same respect from anyone else. Period. No matter how happy or involved I am in any sort of relationship I'm in, or how much our 'unit' has affected the rest of our lives. It's basic decency.

So back to my original point: no, I'm not 'in love', and I'm sure as hell not ready to get married (if I even want to do that). I just so happen to be covered so head to toe in issues, and have only had relationships with guys who are doormats and puppy dogs before, that I have no sense of what a 'normal' relationship entails (not that the relationship I'm in is 'normal', but it's as close as I've come). I seem to think that I'm a hop, skip and a jump away from matrimony, since I have no idea what it means to be on the path I'm on.

Is it a path even? Starting at first impressions and ending with "I do"? Or is that not even the end? I'm sure people grow during their marriages...or so television tells me.

(wow writing this post has gotten me to consider arranged marriages in a whole new light)

Maybe it's a tree; you start at the bottom but "till death do you part" is just one branch.

Or better yet, maybe people start from different places too... 

...it's starting to seem more and more like a complex game of snakes and ladders.

Well, I have no idea where my ladder is going or where it ends. I've got this stereotype in my head; that this type of ladder (the 'normal' resembling type) ends ends up with my own personal Brady Bunch. But while writing this, it's become more and more clear to me that I'm jumping to conclusions. You just can't go from zero to Stepford in 3.5 seconds flat, no matter which ladder you're on.

I cant help but wonder, why aren't any of the other stages on the ladder mentioned? You have first dates, followed by matrimony. What about all the gray area in between? I'm sure other people have gone through it...(selfish bastards aren't sharing what they know!)

What happens between like and love, love and Stepford?

I guess I'll have to continue along the ladder to find out for myself. And why, you might ask, is the commitment phobic psycho continuing down this path? Who knows. Where will it lead? Once again, who knows. It could take a million twists and turns, or end at any time. So why am I going on? Beats me.

But I guess that's half the fun, right?

Quote of the Day

"Gossip's worth its weight in gold"

- Notes, Phantom of the Opera

New York Thoughts

A compilation of the scribblings from my notebook so I could forever remember my first impression of the immense, intense, infamous metropolis.

-x-x-x

My thoughts at 7am today, after stepping off a 9 hour bus ride to walk the 8 blocks to my hotel, were something along the lines of "Holy crap, I'm walking the streets of New York...and I'm not being mugged! It's beautiful!"

-x-x-x-

Where am I having breakfast today? On the corner of 51st and BROADWAY!

I'll sit outside in hopes of catching more of the atmosphere...

I <3 New York

-x-x-x-

From where I'm sitting I can see people pass by the Times Square Church, a fat kid just walked by with her mother and screamed "But I wanna go to McDonalds!", and my maitre d', Flip, exaggeratedly swings his hips with unashamed flamboyancy.

I must be in New York.

The sights, the sounds, the hustle, the bustle. People talk about it, you see it in movies, but nothing prepares you for that initial "get out of my way!" when you've lingered just a moment too long at the bottom of an escalator not even five minutes after you step off the inter-city bus at your final cosmopolitan destination.

Ah, New York. The vast, consumer-driven, whore of a city; God bless ya.

-x-x-x-

Oh my god I can see where The Late Night Show is being filmed.

-x-x-x-

There's so much excitement just at this single intersection. For someone who thinks of herself as a die-hard city girl, I can't imagine how exciting the whole city must be. I can't wait!

-x-x-x-

I just saw a traffic ticket being given by none other than a stereotypical, gum-popping, angry African American lady traffic cop to a man sitting in a nondescript black sedan. Eep! This is the stuff movies are made of.

My waitress, Melody, was thoughtful enough to bring me two coffees while sitting outside, in case I finished one. Free refills too. The bill came to $7-something. I left a $10 and a note - "Thank you! P.S. Melody, you're gorgeous!"

...yeah I hit on my waitress. But was too scared to sick around so I slammed down my money and bolted.

Brave, aren't I?

-x-x-x-

(change to desperate me not reading the signs - nothing actually happening. new york making me crazy)

I was watching this cute guy outside the hotel; he's inked (which is hot) and smoking (which is decidedly not). Lo and behold, he walks into the Sheraton and sits down next to me, at one of the computers in the lobby. He looks like a total hard-ass, but my phone has died and I can't log in to a computer because I don't have a room number yet. Damn.

*lean over*
*bat eyes*
"Excuse me, are you going to be using this computer long?"
"Yeah, sort of. Sorry."

He's so genuinely apologetic! Wow, those sleeves really distract from his sweet face and innocent eyes...

*lean over a bit more*
*raise eyebrows hopefully*
"Well actually, my phone died and I just need to plug it into a computer..."
"Oh sure!"

So happy to help! And so cute too...

I move to sit next to him and his computer screen. And about halfway through scribbling in this entry, he asked me for a pen! I gave him the one I was writing with - obviously so he could (a.) see how generous I am, and (b.) feel my warmth through the pen (I know, I know, it's a stretch).

He's looking for an apartment - a detail he did not have to share! I also gave him some paper - because I'm helpful and unselfish like that.

-x-x-x-

Wow. I just realised I'm a schoolgirl again. A clueless, desperate schoolgirl who hopes a total stranger is into her for no reason other than she leant him a pen. I'm crazy.

-x-x-x-

I should follow up next time something comes up. Well, he still has my pen! What should I say?...

-x-x-x-

Musing about the rest of the morning, I just realized that I arrived in New York at around 7am and have flirted with three people thus far - the guy who walked with me from the bus to the hotel, Melody at Ellen's Stardust Diner, and nameless-homeless-inked guy. And it's only 10.30. Go me! The day is still young and looks full of promise.

-x-x-x-

Bitch stole my pen.

Not Even 6 degrees

You probably came across this random site, were mildly intrigued the colour scheme (first impressions, and all that), and decided to read a line or two.

Little do you realise intricacy of it all.

What starts out as a mere musing in the head of an average, half sane, half crazy wannabe-goddess slowly gathers stickiness and elaborations as it's toyed with, until the whole mess gets splashed out onto her computer (sometimes via a spiral ringed school notebook, which, in some cases, turns out to be the thought's inspirational medium). She then edits away to bring some order and coherency to these abstract, jumbled thoughts until she's semi-satisfied with the way her ramblings have come together and embodied themselves into words. But once the idea has taken form and the matter reflects the mind, there still comes the question of an audience.

These ramblings are from a person who might as well be living in a different world, as far as you're concerned. But even as I'm typing this, I know that when I finish and decide to send my cosmic thoughts out into the void of cyberspace, there's a chance (small as it may be) that it will reach someone like you; someone who would actually take the time to read what I have been thinking, to understand what's happening in my world, and maybe even to reach back out to me, perchance to validate my whole existence.

I don't see how anyone could object that the most beautiful thing about technology is the Internet.

It brings people together. It's as simple as that.

People who were once separated by vast distances can now be so close. You never have to feel alone again - you have billions of people within your grasp. There's always someone out there, always someone who needs to be reached out to or who might just be the missing piece in your puzzle.

And I'm not talking about those 'true love' dating sites or questionable people with questionable morals who use the Internet to deceive and harm. I'm talking about genuine people coming together to share an interest in something, maybe a hobby or affiliation, or take an interest in each other. The magic of sites like PostSecret or the One World message are their ability to bring people together. If anyone ever had any doubts, that's really what it's all about.

It's a meeting place. A community. An outlet for your brainchild. A definition for your identity.

And the best thing about the Internet? It's anonymous. Secrecy and parallel lives might be the bane of your existence and cause you more stress than you can imagine, but on the Internet there's no need for it. Pursue your interests, meet like-minded people, learn about the wonders of the world. Freedom.

Ever needed to be free?

Quote of the Day

"Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while,
Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies,
Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.
Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?

Let us die young, or let us live forever,
We don't have the power, but we never say never.

...

Youth is like diamonds in the sun,
And diamonds are forever."

- The Youth Group, Forever Young

Bouquets of Sharpened Pencils

A blank sheet of paper. A sharpened pencil. And nothing else.

I love the silence.

There's something about pencil and paper - something so basic, uncomplicated, simple. The swift strokes and lead scratching on the page remind you that anything's possible.

Ever needed to be free? Free from restraints, limitations?

In today's world when we'd rather click a mouse than click a pen, when a trip to the mailbox seems to far to check whether you're loved (even if it's just by the phone company), when typing pristine, ordered, homogeneously styled letters onto an impossibly white, pixilated representation of paper, seems like the best thing since sliced bread.

No effort. No strain. No waste of space or end to your resource supply. Almost everything that could once be accomplished with the byproducts of a tree can now be done electronically, through the magic of technology.

And I do mean almost everything.

Don't get me wrong. Technology is an amazing thing. I hardly need to detail its wonders and merits to you. Just look at what we're doing right now! There are countless things that would not be possible were it not for the geniuses at Microsoft and Mac.

But if you want freedom? Freedom of expression? A more direct translation? No limitations?

Paper.

Who can beat scribbling in the margins, pressing down on the page for emphasis, side notes, foot notes, drawings, effects? All achievable for the cost of paper and pencil. No training required, no need to find the font button or the table tool. No limitations on what you can draw, insert, write over, slash out. The pencil in your hand and the paper at your fingertips: it brings you closer to your creation.

Computers give you neat organization. Tidy rows of homogeneously styled and fonted letters which can be deleted, edited, moved, sized and emphasised at will. No doubt this is some people's saving grace (myself included, as my handwriting changes on a daily basis and mostly looks like the scratchings of a preschooler), but typed words lack the personality of the scribe.

When I sit down to write, it's possible that I can be neat, but unless I set my mind to it I usually come out with bad handwriting, several mistakes, and scribbles and smudges everywhere, most of which is illegible.

You can't stay neatly in the lines? Life doesn't either. It's messy and complicated. A margin note can make you laugh, a footnote will trip you up, and your silly looking doodle's will all congregate to party after you turn the page.

So the next time you sit down to write something, consider some tangible mediums. And even if you don't use them, take a moment. Take a look and drink in the feeling.

There's an art to it. It's almost as if you can see the beauty that lies within. Like a carver gazing at the beauty inside his marble, at the statue still inside that he only sees.

"In here I have ability. In here I have beauty. That is all that matters to me. If I never touch steel to this stone, then I will always have the beauty of what it could be, and that, can never be taken away from me."

Blank. Calm. Silence is beautiful. Anything's possible.

Two Words

So I was in the Dollar Store today (temporarily satisfying my addiction to cute stationary) and a guy stopped me in the decoration isle and asked if I attended the nearby university, which is my university's rival school. I said no, he must be mistaking me for somebody else...and then he proceeds to hit on me (in very bad English, might I add), asking me all sorts of questions ranging from impersonal ("which university do you go to?") to stalkerish ("what will you put in the Tinkerbell folder?").

Now, I'm all for being friendly with strangers (hey! don't give me that look - you know strangers have the best candy), but there comes a point when a very uninteresting, desperate guy should wise up to the fact that his 'pick up line' (if that's what that was) has fallen flatter than a pancake and take the hint that answering each question with "actually, I really have to go" is a sign that I'm not all that interested (shocker!).

However, it's flattering how persistent some people are... Creepy. But flattering.

P.S. Picking up girls at the Dollar Store? Two words: cheap date.

Casual Flirtation, Isle 3

So someone’s checking me out. I turn slightly and feel their eyes on my back. And I wonder “is it me they’re looking at?” Hardly matters though, at least they’re looking in my direction. Easy enough to work with. Not that I’m an attention whore (much...), but as long as I’ve got their attention…

Under the pretence of absentminded scanning, I slowly turn so they can get a better look at me. Eyes scan me up and down. Good sign. It’s always nice to know I’m not a complete heathen. Widen Bambi eyes, purse lips slightly and continue my pretend search down the isle. I just so happen to find what I’m looking for on a lower shelf. Shameless, I know. But as predictable as a puppy, he’s definitely looking. Mental note to self: wear short skirts while grocery shopping more often. I start walking back up the isle towards my would-be voyeur and once again flash the Bambi eyes and blink in surprise as we make eye contact – ‘oh my, I didn’t notice you standing there before, handsome stranger’. Innocent surprise turns into a very brief moment of slight school-girl embarrassment (occasionally accompanied by a downward glance) followed by a smile which starts off more laugh-at-myself but ends up sitting comfortably at a nice-to-meet-you smile. Transitions so smooth and brief they seem genuinely spontaneous. Looks so classically textbook, he feels like he knows you already, can read your mind.

The slight ego boost accompanied by the self-satisfaction of believing he has some great interpersonal skill, or heaven forbid, ‘a connection’ with you, makes him feel confident, the ringleader, ‘the man’. The feeling of control over the situation, obviously including the belief that he orchestrated this casual but interesting encounter, allows him to feel he divided and conquered, despite the fact that he had no idea he was actually pursuing a quest (i.e. you) in the first place. The next logical step, whether he consciously realizes he’s acting on it or not, is to go in for the kill on this until-a-moment-ago unsuspecting girl. It’s biology, evolution. So natural, instinctive. Predator and prey. Seductive and seduced.

Little does he suspect that while he thinks he’s playing with a full hand, you’ve got a few aces up your sleeve.

xoxo

Nyx, Goddess of the Night