Vacation

I have a problem with vacations. The problem is, I don't know how to relax, and I feel like I'm wasting a lot of time. There are some people who believe that it is impossible to waste time, as even the stupidest actions have some kind of value (? yeah, I don't quite get this philosophy yet, I think I waste tons of time). Christmas was okay I guess. I'm starting to get frustrated because I have so much stuff. I kind of want to burn a lot of it. Donating some to DI would probably be more constructive though. Arg, who cares if it's constructive? Like efficiency really improves quality of life! This is a point I get frustrated over quite often. I mean, are you really going to enjoy life that more if it takes you 5 years rather than 1 year to learn Spanish or something? Well, I suppose if you were living there it would make a difference. A big difference. But I mean, for like making hot chocolate mix, is anyone really going to care if it's $5 for a can rather than $7?

Another thing about me that bothers me is my elitism when it comes to books. When I read a classic, I must read the unabridged, pure original, and I must read the whole thing. I recently violated this constraint of mine when I stopped reading The Idiot halfway through. I'm reading Les Miserables now, and I must admit that I think it could be pared down a bit. I mean, 40 pages on cloisters? Another 40 pages on Waterloo? I only care about the darn story, so tell it! On the other hand, I tell myself that reading this sort of thing will give me an appreciation for a different method of storytelling, and that in my impulsive undiscipline, reading boring things is helpful as an exercise in self-control. It's also kind of interesting to see how Hugo will start on something completely unrelated and relate it to the story somehow. Sometimes I wish that we still had bards and poets to entertain us, but I suppose that has been replaced by movies and the television, and books. I get bored when people try to tell me stories anyways. I need pictures and the promise of looking smart to get me through stories.

I'm in Albuquerque now visiting my sister, and it's been snowing all day. I still really hate the snow, I hate what it does to the plants, and I hate how it makes everything look the same, and I hate how it makes things icy and dangerous. I just found out that my wannbe leather gloves aren't waterproof. I hate how I have like 6 pairs of gloves and none of them are waterproof. I also have boots and things that aren't waterproof. What is the point of having snow boots that aren't waterproof? I'm not sure, except mine are retro 80's coolness. I wore them to work one time, and my coworker was like, "what are you, three? I didn't know they made snow boots for adults." They're going sledding, and I'm just the party pooper staying here because I don't want to be miserably wet in like three seconds. Yeah, that's me... unadventurous, hermetical, etc.

Another thing I dislike is this denim fashion. Denim jackets, denim hats, denim skirts... next thing you know they'll be making denim socks *shudders.* It just seems so tacky to have denim that is not in a pair of pants. There are so many other things that jackets can be made out of that are much warmer and better looking. Wool, for instance. Also, I have a problem with shoes. I used to wear running shoes all the time, but I've recently realized that running shoes look horrible, even when covered in sharpie designs. Unfortunately, it seems that the cuter the shoe is, the harder it is to match with more outfits, resulting in making necessary multiple pairs of shoes. Shoes take up a lot of space though, and they are difficult to throw away. I mean, imagine in your trash can an old sock, that is doable, but a pair of shoes? That seems wasteful. Every now and then I think about how all that stuff in the trash doesn't really disappear, it just gets relocated. Thinking about these things makes me scared that some day trash will take over the world, seeing as how there is so much of it, or that garbage men may go on strike and I would have to be stuck with it in my area of residence. Alright, I think I've complained enough for one day.

apple

Yay, I'm done with finals. I bought an ipod shuffle for myself, but I can't get it to work. So much for straight out of the box. More complaining later, if you're lucky.

Finals = Ugly

I don't want to write my paper and I don't want to study, and I wish it were over. I'm a horrible writer and I'm going to fail all my classes, and then my life will suck, not like it did before, but I'm sure it can get worse. No one will love me, I'll be kicked out on to the street and live in a cardboard box and freeze because Utah is cold. After losing several fingers and toes to frostbite I'll probably be admitted to a mental institution for being homeless and have a schizophrenic roommate, whom I will instantly start to emulate. Many years later they'll find out the catalyst for my pscychopathology and stop giving finals.

I have strange fantasies don't I? Whistler, you are so weird. Arrgh! Just write the stupid paper!

Milk

I like milk. In fact, I like milk so much that I think I'll write a poem about it.

White and cold
bubbly and hot
calcium's favorite resting place
a hot chocolate base
calms a troubled stomach
babies like to suck
wherever drinks are sold
milk shall be sought.

Gmail!

Whistler: hey are you going to answer that question about kissing phobia?

Quandary: i wasn't planning on it

why do you ask?

Whistler: because it seems like one of those ones that's fun to answer

wouldn't want you to miss out on it

Quandary: lol

yes but i don't know what i would answer

you have a nice answer though

Whistler: that was a funny question

Tangerine: i thought so too

I'm kind of hoping that it gets some funnier answers

Whistler: I was going to put something like "I give lessons, wink wink" but I thought it would be too blase

Tangerine: haha

Whistler: plus I don't know the gender of the questioner

Tangerine: you could do it as "the Supershrink"

;)

Whistler: lol... but then how would I break it to the poor reader

that I'm actually a girl

Tangerine: yeah, that's true

haha. well, you know readers hardly ever take you up on those sorts of things

i think it would be funny

Whistler: I know!

I think I will do it then

Tangerine: or even make up an entirely new alias

Whistler: oh, readers hate new aliases

too many to keep track of

Whistler: I don't know who would pay $147 fot that movie

educational video

Tangerine: haha. whatever

they should just go out and kiss somebody

get it over with

Dream

I have a cough. It's really nothing to complain about, especially compared with this one girl who was out for about a month with meningitis (I guess she caught it from herself a few times... how sad!). I like having an excuse to be grumpy, get more sleep, and slack off.

I had a strange dream last night. I was playing chess with one of my professors in the spring outside the HFAC. I was winning - my king was completely surrounded by pawns (so it was safe!), and I had a queen to take out the king. I looked away for a moment and suddenly my professor had taken a knight and put it on the board to checkmate me (okay, I don't think that really could have happened in that situation, but it is a dream after all). Later I dreamt that a classmate of mine was fainting, and I was like "it's a vasovagal response" (I'm a nerd even in my dreams). Then I was stuck in a room, and there was going to be a recital, and my professor told me I was supposed to play the Poulenc sonata. I was like, "let me go get my flute... do I have an accompanist?" And then I thought about how bad I would sound. I was relieved to wake up.

Maybe this dream means that I feel like my professor always has some kind of trump card over me, and that it isn't fair. I also feel like I have to do what my professors tell me to do, even if I'm bad at it or disagree with knowledge I have to apply.

I've been listening to Death Cab for Cutie's "Someday You Will Be Loved." It's a sad song, yet optimistic. Like a dove dying into a better day, or a bluebird without wings dreaming about flying.

Abstract

"As ever, things did not go entirely as the therapist had anticipated. "

This is from an actual psychology abstract. Hahaha!

Rejection

*at the ORCA office in the ASB*

Whistler: Um, I'm here to pick up my rejected IRB approval.
Random businessmen: Actually we're not with the university but this one guy should be able to help you in a minute.
*minute passes* *guy walks in*
Random businessmen: This student here needs some assistance.
Whistler: Um, I'm here to pick up my preliminarily rejected IRB application.
Guy: Oh, let's see if it's here anywhere. The secretary said she'd have it after break...
Whistler: Oh. Okay.
Guy: Are you sure? I could look some more.
Whistler: No, it's fine. I'll just get it after the break.

*walks out of office thinking, "That was SO humiliating!"*

My IRB approval was rejected preliminarily today. I was quite unhappy about it. I don't know why I feel pressured to get my honors thesis done - I started early so I wouldn't get stressed out about it like this. I just keep thinking about how my mentor trusted me to write it up well, and I trusted what I wrote a few months ago, why didn't I read over it and not waste the time of others? So that was unhappy. I did finish my reading on fixed role therapy though. It was pretty interesting. Fixed role therapy is when you write a one-page characterization of yourself and your therapist looks at it and writes a characterization of someone it would be good for you to pretend to be like. I'm not sure if I agree with the whole idea of pretending to be someone else, but I guess it could be fun.

Nothing original here, sorry

Let's have another angsty post about how I feel phony because I feel like I'm pretending to be something I'm not. Probably because I like taking on identities other than my real one, and not just as a Board writer. Someday I think it would be great to be myself. You know, not just tell people what they want to hear. Well, I'm usually pretty real when it comes to saying what I think, at least in Sunday School. I just feel silly when I introduce myself to people and tell them my major and where I'm from, and then I'm thinking... so this is what defines me for that person at the moment. I just wish there were an easier way to get to know people than talking to them. I'm sure some of them have blogs; that could be an easier way to get to know someone. However, I don't believe that all of a person's self is expressed in what s/he writes.

You know, I really do believe that all the great ideas have been taken, so it's just impossible to be original these days. I suppose that a new expression of these ideas could be original... but I just hate how it seems that research and scholarly essays are just telling us things we've already heard in different ways. I'm not sure why that should bother me, I mean, the scriptures do the same thing and I find it perfectly justified in that context.

In a class of mine we discussed how one way to measure love is to see how quickly werf forgives others. I'm considering this in various situations, and I think that sometimes it is useful to not forgive others right away, mostly so you don't make the same mistakes or fall for the same tricks. Let's say you have a group member who consistently appears to slack off and doesn't come to meetings, but you feel sorry for him so you forgive him, and then no justice is done because he gets credit for all the work you've done. Is it better in this case to not forgive, to complain to TAs and your professor, and to make sure this member gets no credit? Maybe loving others isn't the smartest thing (but it feels nicer than holding grudges).

Trials

I like to listen to classical music in the dark. Sometimes I fall asleep while listening.

While reading through some of my posts, I noticed that I sound like a ditz. Or shall I say, someone excited by trivial things who knows little of suffering. I suppose that's an accurate snapshot of myself. When people say how they think their trials are the worst ever, or that life is so hard, I think, "gee, I must not be a very strong person if God hasn't tried me too much... either that or I'm really going to get it later." My "trials" are usually over silly things - doing well in a difficult class, getting along with manipulative people, overcoming laziness, restraining my nosiness when it comes to sensitive information, etc., etc. It's nothing like what other people have to deal with - I don't seem to have problems with loved ones dying, addiction, debt, or morality (unless you count general flirtiness, which I believe is justified in someone of my age). I suppose my real challenge will be avoiding mediocrity, and not judging others unjustly. I am really quite mediocre sometimes.

Therma

I bought a thermometer for $3.00 today! This is amazing! I love having a thermometer! Sometimes when I'm feeling down, I'll take my temperature, and if it's not a fever or anything I'll think, "Whistler, you are such a fine specimen." Somehow knowing my temperature makes me feel better. Maybe because it's reassuring me that I'm still alive.

...

I just called a guy and asked him out on his message machine. I am such a dork. Hopefully my social ineptitude is endearing. >_<

So, I was reading all about sex in my abnormal psychology textbook, and I was like, "gee, that sounds fun!" But then the next day our bishop gave us all a chastity talk, so then I was like, "oh yeah, sex is more than having fun." Then I read a post about how fun labor is, and then I was like, "man, that does not sound fun." Um... nevermind...

Choking

I set my clocks back Friday night, which was a mistake. All of Saturday I had difficulty with simple time-math. It was weird, because it was like time didn't really matter.

I was trying to eat lunch quickly today, and a piece of pumpkin spice cake got stuck in my throat. I tried to wash it down with some water, but unfortunately it didn't go down all the way and I started coughing and gasping for breath. What's worse is that I was at "linger longer," and someone noticed that I wasn't doing so well with the breathing thing and got me some napkins, and I survived to tell the tale. It was frightening because it felt like I was drowning on a piece of food. It kind of feels like it was just a bad dream. This whole day has felt dream-like. Looking back on it anyways.

Do you ever get those times when you look at your life and think, "Am I really living this, or am I going to wake up soon?" Or days when you have deja vu a lot and it seems like maybe you lived it all before? I find Slaughter-House Five intriguing for the reason that time is non-linear in it, kind of. I have a feeling that time isn't linear but it just appears that way to us. But it seems like if time were not linear, we would be unable to grow, as growth requires change contingent upon the previous minute, hour, or year.

Yay!

I feel really happy. Ephemeral and fleeting, but let's revel in it while it lasts! I took all my tests I needed to take by today, yay! The leaves in the grass look beautiful, but they look even prettier on my forest green jacket. I like skipping and whistling. I'm having so much fun teasing my friends. I have lots of candy in my room. If I play my cards right, I'll get to flirt with my mentor's son this weekend. heehee! I like smiling at strangers. I think it's good practice. I probably have lots of work to do. Oh joy! I got nine hours of sleep last night! I'm so amused. hahaha...

Why are we supposed to be monogamous? I mean, why can't everyone enjoy my love? Why all the limits? I wonder if God has more than one wife. I'm such a heretic.

Destineddddd

So does God know everything we are going to do? Does he care if I wear my blue shirt or my white one? Does he know if we will be saved or not? Maybe he sees time in a fourth dimension.

Magnetic Poetry

I received some magnetic poetry recently. The results are odd:

create dead book
pour seed above
expose genius

wail that day
soul could not eat
cold bleed her
trap his time
end like my own life will
say yes you good girl

investigate bad spy play

read pages
are my mouth
conscious after tremendous word
ghost howl
lone who was free

experience naked grammar
voice obedient dictionary
take one lime tree

manipulate white bone
ask but don't burn
never fear inspiration

how holy grace feels

prostitute transgress beauty

find truth
use poet

you did elaborate manuscript too
but would hot soup
spur brain down

Bible Dictionary Study

Today I read through a ton of Bible Dictionary entries. I really liked the ones under Fear and Temple (and Devil, oddly enough). Here's some quotes I'd like to share (sorry if it's boring, but I was interested).

Under "Devil": "One of the major techniques of the devil is to cause human beings to think they are following God's ways, when in reality they are being deceived by the devil to follow other paths." Wow, scary.

Under "Temple": "Only the home can compare with the temple in sacredness." Wow, this is amazing. It almost makes me want to get married and have a family right away (but other things should come first, like, growing up).

Under "Fear": "Sin destroys the feeling of confidence God's child should feel in a loving Father, and produces instead a feeling of shame or guilt."

I hope you feel educated; I do.

Mysterious!

Things that Increase Mystique:

• Being a member of a secret organization
• Having secret meetings
• Flirting with freshmen (especially the one's who haven't a clue who you are)
  
• Mentioning things angularly (I can't think of the word but it's when you refer to something vaguely)
• Mentioning failed love affairs vaguely
• Having friends who don't know your other friends
• Knowing and alluding to other people's secrets (but never telling them)
• Alluding to schisms
• Getting choked up over seemingly benign associations (oh, not Napoleon...)
• Receiving strange packages in the mail
• Wearing dark glasses and reading from old books

So.... Mystique=f(withheld information)

mwah ha ha...

anything to add to my list?

Facade

In answering a question
I purport to know the answer.
In lingering and partying
I show a confident air.
In my trivial love affairs
I like to say, "I don't care!"
While in conversation
I'm the pinnacle of perfection -
but knock down my keystone of arrogance,
my pride of never disappointing,
and I crumble into a pitiful heap -
I try to answer, and I turn out wrong,
children make fun of my attempts to be social,
I smile coyly, but he doesn't smile back,
and my sentence construction and articulation
become incoherent shadows of a lost pride.

(Plainspeech: I pretend to know, but I don't
I pretend I'm popular, but I'm not
I pretend I don't care, and then I do
I pretend I'm confident, but inside a critique crumbles me.)

:-( = f(circumstance? how dumb!)

I'm worried that perhaps I AM finding my limit. It's not that I have a lot of work to do all the time, but I have lots of little things to do for lots of classes/jobs/volunteer slavery. I'm wasting more time in hopes of alleviating stress but it just makes it worse.

I think I've cried twice in the past two months (that's a lot for me). I like expressing my sadness in criticism and sarcasm, not tears. So today I screwed up on someone else's project at work and I was really disappointed in myself. It was kind of embarrassing because I didn't want my superior who was informing me about this on the phone to know. I mean, it wasn't even that big of a deal, I was just choked up because my physical condition is less than optimal. But it BOTHERS me when I break down like that, because it's always about something stupid/trivial. When really bad/sad things happen, it's like it never happened. Sometimes I'll try to cry about big things (like, oh, breaking up, or horrible things happening in other countries, or listening to a really sad song), but it rarely happens. Basically I lack control over my emotions, and I just let them run around like a puppy, and this is frustrating to me.

*sound of frustration*

I feel really frustrated with my internet addiction, and you, my dear blog, are part of it. I'm usually not one to procrastinate but lately I think I've been getting worse. I hope I can keep it together this semester. I've been acting funny lately - displaying inappropriate affect, being rude to people, making dumb jokes (more dumb than usual), talking to myself, being self-effacing, etc. I think reading my abnormal psych book creeps me out. I keep thinking of people I know who could have these different disorders, but then I remind myself that I'm overpathologizing. But at the same time I have to come to terms with the fact that I have a stressful life. Granted, it's not as stressful as many people's lives. But you know, maybe stress is like a gas that just fills up life no matter how much there is. I would complain about everything but I hate reading about how some people think their lives are sooo hard when it's really not that bad, and I'd prefer not to elicit contempt.

Rectangle screen
your black edges
don't seem mean
but I get trapped in hedges
when I caress your body
a strange portal to connection
when will I be free
from this life in sections,
pages, codes, and letters
where anonymity seduces the weak
and leaves honor in fetters
in such silence, I cannot speak.

Problem-Solving Applied

So I made a new blog for my IP&T class. It's pretty boring, but I thought I'd inform you of its existence. I haven't had any deep thoughts lately, although I've been trying to reconcile my want for affection and my want to avoid any kind of committed relationship (basically I feel like it would be unjust... seeing as how I hate feeling owned). The obvious solution is NCC (non-comittal cuddling), or sublimation (converting sexual energy into something useful). Yes, that's right, I just wrote "sexual energy." I wonder if it's measurable. Wait, I'm not sure if I want to know. ...so, let's talk about microwaves!

Mmm I took a test today. I think I have either a compulsion to compelete tests or a sick satisfaction. I think it could be a compulsion because I don't really feel great when I'm taking a test but afterwards I'm like "ahh yes I can relax now." Not too abnormal though.

Boring Complaints

This is one of those times where I have a bunch of stuff to do, and it feels like it might not ever get done, but I know if I sit down and start it will. So I met with a counselor in the CCC who's working on some research with the intake questionnaires, and he was telling me how disorganized everything is, and how corrupt everything is. Anyways, he gave me bunch of ideas of research to do with the database, along with this huge binder of articles to read for my background. Yipee! It sounds like if I really put my mind to this I could get my thesis done this semester... although I must admit, my procrastination skills are only improving with my partying skills.

Now what you've been waiting for: cool insights from my life. Well, these are insights from other people, so I guess they're my exsights. So, according to the third article of faith, to be saved we need to obey the principles and ordinances of the gospel. Assuming that saved here means exalted, in order to grow into an exalted state (read: learn), all we need to do is obey the principles and ordinances of the gospel. This means that... learning is an ordinance of the gospel. Possibly.

I've been listening to the CD I talked Optimistic. into making for me. It's pretty much awesome (especially after I downloaded the codec that let me play it). I'm still getting a feel for it - there are of course some weird/cool songs (at least on first listen). So I'm thinking of taking an internet diet, so don't worry if I'm absent. Not that you would, I'm inflating the importance of my blog presence once again.

Self-shrinkage.

I feel like an incredibly selfish person. Since the beginning of this year I've been doing research work for a counselor in the CCC for research credit and since I'm interested in it and need the experience. I used to meet with said counselor once a week to discuss how the research was going or sometimes just to talk about whatever, and sometimes I'd e-mail him with trivial questions. Oh yeah, and he was going to be my mentor for my honors thesis. But for the past two weeks we've had another assistant come to our meetings, and I feel bored when we go on tangents. I like to stick to the matter at hand and get things done. He's been less accessible because his son has been having some major health problems, and my honors thesis is like not even on the discussion plate (like maybe it's dessert or something). All this is very logical and understandable. So why do I feel like suddenly I'm not getting as much out of this deal as I used to? I'm still doing the dirty work. But I'm being really ungrateful - I wouldn't have gotten my current job without this beginning research stuff, and I probably wouldn't have the chance I do to do my thesis working with such a large database otherwise. Let's see if I can do some self-therapy: my irrational beliefs are that I shouldn't feel hurt that I'm not getting as much attention for being a smart, hard-working, ambitious undergraduate (can you tell how humble I am?). My advice to myself: Get over it, Whistler. Blood relations will always take precedence over you. Yeah, so things change. Most things do.

I haven't hit the nail here. The real IB is that I believe I should get attention for being better. For one, I am not better than anyone else, and for two, there is no reason why I others must give me their attention, as that is entirely up their decision out of the goodness of their heart to invest in your life. Pow.

Parallel-ism

So we were studying parallelism today. Fun stuff. My lame imitations:

Good soil gives growth to seeds;
Fertile minds birth ideas.
A fist that will not open to a gentle word
will not open to a harsh growl.
Capturing a frightened rabbit
is like learning a new word:
running to one side, and finding its limits,
wearing it out and finally conquering.
A mind that will not open to a gentle nod
will remain closed to rebuke.
A happy hue hibits learning;
Mineral rain encourages absorption.

Mental Illness?

Okay, so I was writing this paper for a class, and then I was like, hey that would make a cool blog, so here it is in all its random glory (although I'm not sure if I agree with everything I wrote, if that makes sense, not like you're going to read it all anyways):

Psychological disorders are an unlucky combination of multiple factors, much like physical injuries. However, unlike physical injuries, those suffering from mental illness often wish to hide their troubles because of the stigma associated with their problems. One of the reasons for stigma associated with psychological treatment and therapists in particular is that, for one, some therapies have been grounded in unsound research (and the gospel of empiricism demands that treatment theories have tangible research backing them), and for two, many people are unfamiliar with therapy, have a slight fear of it, and sometimes react to the idea of therapy in anger or defensiveness.

Some therapies are not scientifically proven to help clients. This poses a problem, as insurance companies and consumers wish to know what they can expect from services. While backing by science is important to people in the world, it is useful to keep in mind that science does not know all. The second issue of stigma associated with mental illness can be solved by requiring a yearly (or for adults, penta-yearly) mental examination, much like physical examinations are administered now. This would give mental examiners such as psychologists and psychiatrists more work to do, and it would increase insurance premiums (I'm sure it would be good for the economy somehow).

I'm afraid that somehow I have gotten off-track from the original topic of what my perception of mental illness is. Mental illness is a mysterious, exciting, and sometimes (well, actually mostly) tragic phenomenon. I like many others romanticize mental illness into an other-worldly abnormality that can enable people to do great and horrible things. I am reminded of great artists who suffered from mental illness – Schumann, Tchaikovsky, Emily Dickinson, Blake, Dostoevsky, Van Gogh – all these people suffered tremendously yet no doubt experienced poignant aesthetic highs. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's almost like their illness wasn't really an illness, it was a fuller life, and one with more meaning than the normal lives of the mentally healthy. Maybe in my desire to be different in a capitalist cookie-cutter Mormon society, I envy the mentally ill, who are genuinely different from myself and the status quo (without being pretentious or non-conforming for the sake of being non-conformist). But, paradoxically, the mentally ill probably envy me in my mental health (unless of course they're manic). The only solution is for me to voluntarily extend myself into the realm of insanity and then, after becoming disillusioned with one of my vestiges of romanticism and idealism, to despise and pity the mentally ill, while wishing the depressed could just quit being such objects, waiting for others to act upon them. In the world of psychology we're always stressing how the mentally ill don't have character flaws, they just have a “chemical imbalance” in their brain. Yeah right. Then who are the people with character flaws, if not the mentally ill (who account for supposedly the majority of the population?)? I'm going to dare to say that some people in therapy aren't really ill, they're just jerks or lazy people. Not all of them, but some. And what is the cure for lazy people? Let them be lazy and see where it gets them. If being lazy and selfish gets more attention than being hard-working and selfless, where is the future of desirable people? Intrinsic motivation... that's all I have to say.

another fold of life

To visit again a favorite metaphor:

Life is like a sheet of origami paper,
the more you fold, the harder it is to go back,
the further life goes, the harder it is to change like new,
a thin square sheet.

I hope I become so blessedly folded that I eventually tear apart. It would be boring to be a crane or something my whole life.

You know, I do some really rotten things sometimes. Like sitting here.

An Evaporating Puddle = My Depth

Wow, I feel really shallow.

Explanation: I often try to decide how I like people, especially those of the male persuasion. I often persuade myself I like certain boys because of certain of their attributes. For example, I liked D- because he was cute, kind of weird, and he happened to like me too. Some other males I like because they are smart, cute, may like me, and are almost as strange as I am. But is this a legitimate reason to like someone? Looks? Smarts? Reciprocity? How shallow can I get? But then, if liking a guy for his attributes is shallow, what isn't? If I love someone just because I love everyone else, that isn't very special is it? But then again, if I love someone because he's useful to me, that isn't very flattering. Here I am arguing over the determinants of love again. It seems I'm doomed to fail to learn from my past.

Another reason I was feeling shallow was because I was thinking how nice it would be to have a boyfriend for like thirty minutes, but no more. I'm really quite neglectful of friends sometimes. Ugh...

Well, at least flirting is still fun.

P.S. Have any of you heard of Neuroticfish? I think it's pretty good, for techno, although all I have is this 7-song CD I got for a dollar at Rasputin's.

ERROR: Table '100hourboard.Submissions' doesn't exist

So, the Board has been down, so it has been pretty boring around here. Although I did have some online researching time with my ridiculous class - One of the more frustrating questions was "Why are theories of explanation often called nomological-deductive theories?" but that one was at least do-able, after I found out that nomothetic theories are either the same or very similar. Another hard question was "What were the principals in the das Verstehen movement?" Yeah... that's nowhere on-line that I could find (feel free to prove that I have lame research skills). So hopefully I won't feel incredibly dumb tomorrow when my classmates are like "well, it was in the BOOK, duh!" (I did check...).

My favorite error message:

"You have reached the end of the Internet."

Tuesday is soon

A twinkling moment in my path
ahead of me, I can see its shine,
while other stars are full of wrath,
this one smiles and says I'm fine.
Just one day that's coming soon,
another first to walk into,
hoping I won't look like a buffoon,
wishing I will impress you.
A collected professor, a confident shrink
a potential idol in my academic flutter
but this twinkle will fade in a blink,
and I will be left with a disillusioned mutter.

Still Bored

Soon I'll be wishing I were back here on vacation. Soon I will feel utterly overwhelmed. I wish I could bottle up my boredom for another day. Store it away, so when those days come where I wish I could have two hours to do whatever I want, I could just reach into my store room of bottles of time.

I was going to do some stuff with the research I'm assisting with, but I'm too lazy. It's kind of sad. Maybe in an hour or so I'll be more ambitious.

I'm listening to the Squirrel Nut Zippers now. They're a pretty cool group - kind of some jazz and bluegrass kind of stuff (except modern-ish).

I've decided that I don't like reading books on my computer. It's annoying. Even if I tilt the screen so a whole page fits on at once, a laptop in your lap isn't nearly as comfortable as a book. Even a really big book. I think the screen is just hard on the eyes.

("Research shows that reading is around 25% slower from a computer screen than from paper." - http://www.readingsoft.com/ is this true?)

Small Margins Don't Bother Me

I was reading an article on outcome assessment today. It was about how sensitive the OQ (Outcome Questionnaire) is. Then I realized that whoever made that questionnaire up probably didn't do a bunch of tests on it before using it with real clients. Werf probably came up with those questions on a whim, a hunch, and now we're using sophisticated analysis to tell us that some of the questions aren't sensitive to change in client outcome. Who would have guessed? I'm actually really glad this study (by Lambert and Okishii) was done, because I was thinking how necessary it was.

I finally saw Pirates 2 last night. Now I feel like I'm in on pop culture. It was about time that someone had a movie with a really cool-looking sea monster in it. You know, something that wasn't JUST teeth. Oh wait...

There's something about the ocean that is especially frightening... the mystery it hides, the terror of never knowing what is directly beneath you. It would take me a long time to get used to being a sailor. The fact that I'm a lame swimmer doesn't help. I used to fantasize that on another planet I was a unicorn who sharks ate, which would explain why I dislike aquariums. I was pretty strange in my childhood... every night I would hope that some portal to a fantasy world would open and I would be transported out of my then boring life. I don't really know why I wished to be elsewhere; I had a pleasant childhood. If you ignore the teasing at school that most kids suffer, I had an extremely pleasant childhood. I had friends who I played with, and I read books (I probably did more pleasure reading then than I do now). Sometimes I wish I could be a kid again, just for like three hours, so I could see if it's really any better than my present life, or if I'm just sugar-coating my past.

The Younger Me, That Wasn't Me

I was reading a bit from my old journals. I think I was pretty insightful in high school. Perhaps even more so than I purport to be now. Example, from four years ago: "I shall have to be more efficient and philosophical in my entries. That way the overall reading of my diary will improve. But is it possible to have efficient philosophy? Isn't philosophy, by definition, going around in circles of thought?" You know it, I was smart at one time.
I decided to start reading Ender's Game again, just so I can have something worthwhile to do (you know, take Katya's suggestion and all). It's quite different reading it now. Now I read it and I think "Six years old? You've got to be kidding me. This is kind of sick. But oh, so enthralling." Sometimes I identify with Ender because I think "I'm usually the youngest in my classes." Than I think, "Well, I'm not quite that young." I don't know about you, but when I was six, kids who were more than three years older than me intimidated me quite a bit. Kids my own age intimidated me. Of course, now it's a completely different story. Now I'm quite the punk... always pushing the envelope on the amount of questions I can get in without being too disrespectful. At least, I'm that way sometimes.
I've decided that I have too much stuff. And I probably won't do anything about it.

Awareness of Human Condition = Guilt?

In a kind of paradoxical way, I find God's grace humbling. I wish that when people look at the things I've achieved I could tell them "but really, I think God must like me a lot, because I'm definitely not this smart/charming." It reminds me of a quote from my social psychology teacher: "I believe the Holy Spirit uses guilt." Guilty people are more likely to help others, and more likely to help more. Is it blasphemous to think that God manipulates His children? hehe...

Flash

There's a certain smell in my house here that reminds me of my brush with death in 2003.

*flashback*
Hooked up to a breathing machine, I play chess with myself, humming to myself a masterpiece in melody. I think this melody came to me in a dream, and it's the most haunting thing I've ever heard. It's early January and like most winters this one is moist. The Christmas decorations have been put away but my spoils (such as my magnetic chess set) are displayed prominantly around my room. I'm so tired of my long hair that I have my mom cut off a foot to give to locks of love, and suddenly, through my sickness, I feel liberated. I keep coughing and can never decide if I'm hot or cold. When I try to go to school again, my pants are falling off and I can barely endure all the excersise of walking from class to class.
*end flashback*

Haha... my bout with pneumonia was educational and interesting. I later found out that the melody I was obsessed with was from a Brahms symphony (on a CD I got for Christmas). I was quite disappointed to find out it wasn't my own making. Hopefully I won't ever be sick for two weeks again (it took be forever to be able to go back to track practice, but it turned out to be a good season for me anyhow).

The Boy and Music Situations

I was just reading a friend's blog, and it was rather sad. He was complaining about how girls always just like him as a friend. I guess I've never had that complaint (usually girls just like me as a friend and I like to keep it that way). And I can't have the complaint that guys just like me as a friend, since I had a boyfriend this winter. But now it's different - I think that once I have a boyfriend, I turn into a shallow, infatuated, girly person. Maybe I just need to avoid shallow-ness... (i.e., start relationships with a firmer foundation). I'm actually not too concerned at the moment about getting another boyfriend, in fact I'd like to avoid it if I can help myself, but I do think that I shouldn't not think about these things. Well, not much more to say on that subject, and it's fairly boring.
So I'm here in California. I've gotten some new CDs - a Muse album and a Travis album (they were Optimistic.'s recommendations). I've been in a kind of experimental music phase. I mean, I like experimental music, but I've been experimenting with what kind of music I like. Radiohead is a new favorite of mine, probably since last year. I remember listening to Amnesiac for the first time and thinking how weird it was, and then listening to it some more and liking it. It was a lot like some modern classical music in that sense. Some music, you like it the first time, and then each repetition the music gets less likable, but with some music, usually the music I like the most, the first listening is somewhat uncomfortable, but then familiarity breeds liking. I guess it's this kind of dedication to music that will always be my weakness. I mean, hey, maybe I could like any kind of music if I listen to it enough, so how am I going to tell what kind of music I really like? Maybe all music is equally likable... although somehow I doubt that (that would be an interesting experiment... have participants listen to different pieces of music multiple times and see how their liking of it changes with each repetition).

Warm-up

I'm thinking of starting a blog. I'm not sure what I'd write in it though... it's hard to write about life and then not reveal personal information. We'll see how this goes. For now though, you may know that I'm leaving Utah soon. I'm listening to Jeanne Baxtresser's CD of Bolling's flute jazz suite. It's pretty cool. Jazz in general I think is pretty cool and relaxing.