Wednesday, April 04, 2007
panda sex.
Apparently Jimmy Kimmel was discussing that zoos are having a hard time getting pandas to mate, and have tried all kinds of things to get them to. Jimmy Kimmel then implied that if anything could get the pandas to sex it up, it would be hearing a romantic ballad by the "sensual" Josh Groban. (He did actually call him sensual, and I can't say I disagree.)
Yay Josh Groban and yay humor!
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Mainly Too Vain
My roommate's been watching MTV for most of the last few hours. The amount of music videos I've seen is just sad. Is this really "music" TV?
There are 12 "Music Shows" according to MTV's website. There are 60 total shows on MTV, as well.
Maybe I should cut MTV a little slack? This website quotes:
Horizon Media Senior President of Research Brad Adgate said the network has a real challenge.
Some of the music shows aren't even what you'd think. MTV's Total Request Live, which I remember watching fairly regularly back in middle school, is a top-10 countdown of music videos. However, instead of Carson Daly introducing the songs, occasionally with a celebrity guest, and boy bands vying for the top spot, TRL these days plays most of the top ten videos for all of 20 seconds, and a few (usually the #10 and #9) don't even get that. Instead, the time is crammed with new video premieres and visits from celebrities (but somehow they're often people I've hardly heard of, or have nothing at all to do with music). Even the played music videos sometimes shrink to half of the TV's size so that someone's poor-quality webcam shoutout can be played next to it. I don't even know why people vote on the songs; if you want to hear them, you really don't get to on TRL anyway.
With all of the non-music shows MTV has, you'd think that there were some good ones. Many of them seem the same to me. MTV has a huge stake in reality television- Real World, Road Rules, and Laguna Beach have all been extremely successful (Real World and Road Rules since the 90's, according to Wikipedia). MTV has also had some success with celebrity reality television, although VH1 seems to advertise their "Celebreality" more clearly. Newlyweds (with Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey) as well as The Osbournes (featuring the family of Ozzy Osbourne) are just a couple of examples.
But there's so little variation. Real World is in its millionth season, and every one is basically putting a bunch of people guaranteed to argue and have drama in a really sweet house in some city, and filming. Oh, and they're incredibly good-looking. They're always incredibly good-looking. There's also usually a country girl who is completely naive to urban life, someone who's gay, someone who is incredibly homophobic, someone who's a total player or slut, someone who has a relationship at home, and someone who is absolutely perfect for the person with a relationship.
Many of the shows feature high-class society: Laguna Beach and The Hills chronicle "everyday lives" of pretty girls and preppy boys with way too much money and far too few responsibilities. My Super Sweet Sweet Sixteen keeps the camera aimed on rich girls (and occasionally a boy or two) whose parents spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a party that their children not only aren't grateful for, but seem to feel entitled to and constantly pitch fits over. "Cribs" goes to homes of celebrities to see the frivolous houses and amenities, and "Pimp My Ride" puts the same sort of ridiculous overspending into a car. I don't know if most people who watch them are jealous or just in disbelief that people 'actually' live like this, but it still seems too ridiculous for me to even watch, most of the time.
There is some occasional variation in MTV shows, and there have been times that I've found things entertaining. But for the most part? It drives me crazy. MTV tells me one minute that I'm cool to be really skinny, dress in next to nothing, spend way too much money, and act like a drama queen- and the next minute, it's cool to turn the lights off when I leave a room to help save the planet. Oh yeah, and occasionally they play a song or two. I don't know where the music went, but MTV seems far more focused on setting trends- or following them, I can't decide which- than playing music. Apparently for some people that works, but me? I just don't care enough about what's 'cool.'
Oh well. I guess I can't complain that much. They did introduce me to a fun music video (click Candyman, and then click Video Mode in the upper right hand corner).
There are 12 "Music Shows" according to MTV's website. There are 60 total shows on MTV, as well.
Maybe I should cut MTV a little slack? This website quotes:
Horizon Media Senior President of Research Brad Adgate said the network has a real challenge.
"It's difficult for MTV to target the teen market, which is very fluid," he said. "Once something becomes too popular, it goes out of vogue with teens. MTV always has to reinvent a new programming genre."
Still, I think MTV is trying so much to target the teen market that they hardly play music anymore- and while I understand they have to keep viewers, they seem to have forgotten they're supposed to be Music Television.Some of the music shows aren't even what you'd think. MTV's Total Request Live, which I remember watching fairly regularly back in middle school, is a top-10 countdown of music videos. However, instead of Carson Daly introducing the songs, occasionally with a celebrity guest, and boy bands vying for the top spot, TRL these days plays most of the top ten videos for all of 20 seconds, and a few (usually the #10 and #9) don't even get that. Instead, the time is crammed with new video premieres and visits from celebrities (but somehow they're often people I've hardly heard of, or have nothing at all to do with music). Even the played music videos sometimes shrink to half of the TV's size so that someone's poor-quality webcam shoutout can be played next to it. I don't even know why people vote on the songs; if you want to hear them, you really don't get to on TRL anyway.
With all of the non-music shows MTV has, you'd think that there were some good ones. Many of them seem the same to me. MTV has a huge stake in reality television- Real World, Road Rules, and Laguna Beach have all been extremely successful (Real World and Road Rules since the 90's, according to Wikipedia). MTV has also had some success with celebrity reality television, although VH1 seems to advertise their "Celebreality" more clearly. Newlyweds (with Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey) as well as The Osbournes (featuring the family of Ozzy Osbourne) are just a couple of examples.
But there's so little variation. Real World is in its millionth season, and every one is basically putting a bunch of people guaranteed to argue and have drama in a really sweet house in some city, and filming. Oh, and they're incredibly good-looking. They're always incredibly good-looking. There's also usually a country girl who is completely naive to urban life, someone who's gay, someone who is incredibly homophobic, someone who's a total player or slut, someone who has a relationship at home, and someone who is absolutely perfect for the person with a relationship.
Many of the shows feature high-class society: Laguna Beach and The Hills chronicle "everyday lives" of pretty girls and preppy boys with way too much money and far too few responsibilities. My Super Sweet Sweet Sixteen keeps the camera aimed on rich girls (and occasionally a boy or two) whose parents spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a party that their children not only aren't grateful for, but seem to feel entitled to and constantly pitch fits over. "Cribs" goes to homes of celebrities to see the frivolous houses and amenities, and "Pimp My Ride" puts the same sort of ridiculous overspending into a car. I don't know if most people who watch them are jealous or just in disbelief that people 'actually' live like this, but it still seems too ridiculous for me to even watch, most of the time.
There is some occasional variation in MTV shows, and there have been times that I've found things entertaining. But for the most part? It drives me crazy. MTV tells me one minute that I'm cool to be really skinny, dress in next to nothing, spend way too much money, and act like a drama queen- and the next minute, it's cool to turn the lights off when I leave a room to help save the planet. Oh yeah, and occasionally they play a song or two. I don't know where the music went, but MTV seems far more focused on setting trends- or following them, I can't decide which- than playing music. Apparently for some people that works, but me? I just don't care enough about what's 'cool.'
Oh well. I guess I can't complain that much. They did introduce me to a fun music video (click Candyman, and then click Video Mode in the upper right hand corner).
Sunday, March 04, 2007
oneword.com: solo
She stood, perched on two arched feet, her arms poised above her head. She waited as the curtains split and the lights began to come up. Slowly, softly, the first notes of the music picked up, and she rode them through to the audience cheers.
(I couldn't sleep, so I'm online wasting time. I kind of liked this one, though.)
(I couldn't sleep, so I'm online wasting time. I kind of liked this one, though.)
a simile with no like or as
When it storms, I'm always torn between wanting to go inside to get away from it or go outside and be a part of it. There's something awesome about standing out in a fierce storm and watching the lightning or feeling the wind whip by. And even when it feels a little dangerous, there's something fantastic about feeling so much power so close. I don't think I could ever be a tornado chaser or anything, but being out in a regular old thunderstorm can feel exhilarating. Even when storms are frightening or make freezing or soaked- even when they make you feel terrible- it's hard to say you don't feel alive in them.
Sometimes I wonder what I'd do if I had a choice of weather. If there was a set amount of bad weather, precipitation, etc. that had to happen in a month, would I spread it out so that every day was drizzly and breezy, or would I instead make it so that all of the bad weather occurred on one or two days? I could spread the rain out so that it was never very severe or dangerous. But if I smushed all of the bad weather into a short period of time, the other days could be sunny and nice. Even if the storm was terrible, I'd get it over with.
If I had to guess, I think I'd suffer a tough storm or two so that the other days could be enjoyable. I think that's kind of what I do with my emotions; I do my best to let myself get really upset once or twice a month. And even though those days are usually fierce and awful... it lets the sunshine prevail on the other days.
At this point, I don't even think it's much of a conscious choice; it's how I deal with things that upset me, and that's that. I keep everything in check, holding myself back from getting really upset until it's convenient to do so. I don't act vulnerable and weak in situations where it's not optimal, and I try not to get upset in public or around most people I know. Occasionally, though, something hits- whether it be an overflow of hormones, worries building up, or whatever else- and I'm not in control anymore. I can tell I'm just in that kind of mood, and the only thing I can do is to 'prepare for the storm,' so to speak. I deal with things as best I can, but there's not much I can really do to keep myself from getting really upset when I'm in that kind of mood.
Lately, it seems like the times when I'm emotional or upset- my 'storms'- are longer. I used to cry for a night, and feel better. But for the past few months, at least, it seems like I have entire days or even a few days at a time where I'm in a terrible mood and nothing can quite snap me out of it for very long. I used to be able to write about whatever was wrong, and it would make me feel better. Usually, after a good cry and a little sleep, I'd feel back to normal. But lately... writing doesn't seem cathartic anymore, and I can cry and still feel awful. I just have to wait until the storm passes, and I don't seem to have very much control over that.
I don't know. Maybe it is better to spread things out and deal with them in little pieces. Maybe the inconvenience of carrying an umbrella for a week and letting people see my face wet from the rain every once in awhile would be better than facing a horrendous storm every once in awhile. But if that's the case, things are a little less predictable and controllable... and, besides, I think I've been dealing with things the same way for long enough that it'd be really hard to change. My 'weather patterns' are somewhat stuck at this point.
I don't know-- I doubt that there really is any 'good' way of dealing with things like this. Spread out or all together, it's still bad weather and it's still no fun to put up with. It's just that sometimes, when I've been upset for a really long time or had a particularly intense cry... I wonder if things would be better if I dealt with them differently. Who knows, I guess.
*P.S.-- Sorry if the storm metaphor was a little over-used. I just came up with it tonight, and I thought it fit pretty well.
Sometimes I wonder what I'd do if I had a choice of weather. If there was a set amount of bad weather, precipitation, etc. that had to happen in a month, would I spread it out so that every day was drizzly and breezy, or would I instead make it so that all of the bad weather occurred on one or two days? I could spread the rain out so that it was never very severe or dangerous. But if I smushed all of the bad weather into a short period of time, the other days could be sunny and nice. Even if the storm was terrible, I'd get it over with.
If I had to guess, I think I'd suffer a tough storm or two so that the other days could be enjoyable. I think that's kind of what I do with my emotions; I do my best to let myself get really upset once or twice a month. And even though those days are usually fierce and awful... it lets the sunshine prevail on the other days.
At this point, I don't even think it's much of a conscious choice; it's how I deal with things that upset me, and that's that. I keep everything in check, holding myself back from getting really upset until it's convenient to do so. I don't act vulnerable and weak in situations where it's not optimal, and I try not to get upset in public or around most people I know. Occasionally, though, something hits- whether it be an overflow of hormones, worries building up, or whatever else- and I'm not in control anymore. I can tell I'm just in that kind of mood, and the only thing I can do is to 'prepare for the storm,' so to speak. I deal with things as best I can, but there's not much I can really do to keep myself from getting really upset when I'm in that kind of mood.
Lately, it seems like the times when I'm emotional or upset- my 'storms'- are longer. I used to cry for a night, and feel better. But for the past few months, at least, it seems like I have entire days or even a few days at a time where I'm in a terrible mood and nothing can quite snap me out of it for very long. I used to be able to write about whatever was wrong, and it would make me feel better. Usually, after a good cry and a little sleep, I'd feel back to normal. But lately... writing doesn't seem cathartic anymore, and I can cry and still feel awful. I just have to wait until the storm passes, and I don't seem to have very much control over that.
I don't know. Maybe it is better to spread things out and deal with them in little pieces. Maybe the inconvenience of carrying an umbrella for a week and letting people see my face wet from the rain every once in awhile would be better than facing a horrendous storm every once in awhile. But if that's the case, things are a little less predictable and controllable... and, besides, I think I've been dealing with things the same way for long enough that it'd be really hard to change. My 'weather patterns' are somewhat stuck at this point.
I don't know-- I doubt that there really is any 'good' way of dealing with things like this. Spread out or all together, it's still bad weather and it's still no fun to put up with. It's just that sometimes, when I've been upset for a really long time or had a particularly intense cry... I wonder if things would be better if I dealt with them differently. Who knows, I guess.
*P.S.-- Sorry if the storm metaphor was a little over-used. I just came up with it tonight, and I thought it fit pretty well.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Music Nerdity
Tonight at Swing Dance Club, I learned the basic step to Lindy Hop, a specific style of swing dancing. Up until now, the semester lessons have taught East Coast Swing. This may not be interesting to most people (and I apologize for the dancentricity of this blog lately), but I'm going to reflect on the lesson.
Lindy and East Coast are really pretty different. East Coast always felt a little funny to me because it is a 6-count move, and therefore does not line up with the measures in music with a typical 4/4 or 2/2 time signature. Lindy's different, because it's an 8-count move. In the other styles of dance I've taken (ballet, pointe, tap, and jazz), most music is counted in 8, but music in 3/4 or 6/8 (such as a waltz) is counted in 3 or 6. I like this- because I was in band for 8 years, marching for 4, and church choir for probably at least 5, it bothers me when my movement with music doesn't match the measures. It took me awhile to get used to East Coast for that reason alone. Lindy, luckily, is an 8-count basic move, so the beginning of each basic step will correspond with the beginning of a measure in most music. Hooray!
Anyway. Another difference between East Coast and Lindy is the syncopation of Lindy. While East Coast's steps are all on the beat- 1, 2, 3 (hold 4), 5 (hold 6), repeat... Lindy's aren't- 1, 2, 3, a, 4, 5, 6, 7, a, 8. Actually, last night they explained this as 1, 2, 3, and 4- with the and *just* before the 4. Their explanation of the syncopation was a little weird, and not quite 'correct' as I understand basic music theory. I could be wrong, but as I learned it, "and" is the spot halfway between 2 notes (3-and-4 are straight eighth notes).
In swing music, though, eighth notes are not actually played "straight," instead, they are "swung." A beat can be divided into fourths, which is generally pronounced "3-e-and-a-4"- 'and' is still halfway between 3 and 4, but 'e' is halfway between 3 and 'and,' & 'a' is halfway between 'and' and 4. This gets confusing, I know, but basically, you're dividing the beat into fourths. When an eighth note is "swung," it is not played typically, as 3-and, even though it is written that way; instead, it's played as '3-a," which amounts to playing the second note closer to the beat of 4 instead of directly between 3 and 4.
Swing dancing definitely corresponds to this (especially since it is, of course, often done to swing music)... so, when they are saying the step is 1, 2, 3-and-4 with the 'and' just before 4... what they really mean is 1, 2, 3, a-4. And while I should've been concentrating on learning the basic step, I was instead concentrating on their incorrect words.
I do that sometimes during lessons; I focus on the fact that it feels funny to me to call it a 'roll-step' when I've always known it as a 'ballchange' or something instead of just paying attention. Luckily, they go through everything extremely slowly, and I have plenty of time to muse about band-nerdy and dance-nerdy things. :)
Lindy and East Coast are really pretty different. East Coast always felt a little funny to me because it is a 6-count move, and therefore does not line up with the measures in music with a typical 4/4 or 2/2 time signature. Lindy's different, because it's an 8-count move. In the other styles of dance I've taken (ballet, pointe, tap, and jazz), most music is counted in 8, but music in 3/4 or 6/8 (such as a waltz) is counted in 3 or 6. I like this- because I was in band for 8 years, marching for 4, and church choir for probably at least 5, it bothers me when my movement with music doesn't match the measures. It took me awhile to get used to East Coast for that reason alone. Lindy, luckily, is an 8-count basic move, so the beginning of each basic step will correspond with the beginning of a measure in most music. Hooray!
Anyway. Another difference between East Coast and Lindy is the syncopation of Lindy. While East Coast's steps are all on the beat- 1, 2, 3 (hold 4), 5 (hold 6), repeat... Lindy's aren't- 1, 2, 3, a, 4, 5, 6, 7, a, 8. Actually, last night they explained this as 1, 2, 3, and 4- with the and *just* before the 4. Their explanation of the syncopation was a little weird, and not quite 'correct' as I understand basic music theory. I could be wrong, but as I learned it, "and" is the spot halfway between 2 notes (3-and-4 are straight eighth notes).
In swing music, though, eighth notes are not actually played "straight," instead, they are "swung." A beat can be divided into fourths, which is generally pronounced "3-e-and-a-4"- 'and' is still halfway between 3 and 4, but 'e' is halfway between 3 and 'and,' & 'a' is halfway between 'and' and 4. This gets confusing, I know, but basically, you're dividing the beat into fourths. When an eighth note is "swung," it is not played typically, as 3-and, even though it is written that way; instead, it's played as '3-a," which amounts to playing the second note closer to the beat of 4 instead of directly between 3 and 4.
Swing dancing definitely corresponds to this (especially since it is, of course, often done to swing music)... so, when they are saying the step is 1, 2, 3-and-4 with the 'and' just before 4... what they really mean is 1, 2, 3, a-4. And while I should've been concentrating on learning the basic step, I was instead concentrating on their incorrect words.
I do that sometimes during lessons; I focus on the fact that it feels funny to me to call it a 'roll-step' when I've always known it as a 'ballchange' or something instead of just paying attention. Luckily, they go through everything extremely slowly, and I have plenty of time to muse about band-nerdy and dance-nerdy things. :)
Saturday, February 24, 2007
I wonder...
What do most women do if their father, for one reason or another, cannot give them away at their wedding?
As I see it, there are a few options:
-The mother gives her away.
-Another person gives her away (such as brother, uncle, family friend).
-She walks down the aisle alone.
I'm going to be faced with this eventually, and I don't know what I'd want to do. I don't think, at least now, I'm close enough with either of my brothers to feel like they should do that. I don't think any of my other relatives or elder friends are close enough, either. I could have my mother give me away, but... part of me doesn't want someone else to stand there where I feel like my father should be. Still, part of me doesn't want to walk down the aisle by myself.
The weird thing is, this isn't something I need to worry about anytime soon. I know I'm kind of in a bad mood today, somewhat thinky, and a little overemotional... but it's a topic that's come up in my head many, many times since my dad died. I don't think wedding traditions necessarily have to be upheld or anything like that; it just feels to me like it's a role that my dad should be in, and if he can't be... I'm not sure what I would want to happen instead. I'm not sure if other people have come up with any better solutions than I have. I'm not sure I should even attempt to think about it until I need to.
I've said it before, but it scares me a little that I might not be able to fully enjoy big life events because a little part of me is sad that my dad isn't physically there. I know it sounds silly, he wouldn't want it, it probably won't happen, whatever. But I'm afraid that when I'm getting married, having a kid, getting a job, things like that- I won't be able to be 100% happy. And I guess that's okay... it's just depressing to think about.
I know people will want to comment with words of comfort, saying he is here, he's watching over me, etc... but I want him here. I don't want a long-distance relationship with my father, essentially, for the rest of my life, even if that is how things work. I want him to meet the people in my life that I care about, be able to talk to me and offer advice about what's going on in my life, and be physically present at events in my life. My memories are fading, and it hurts to think that eventually I might be left with little more than what photographs and home videos can show me.
I feel selfish worrying so much about a little thing like who's going to walk me down the aisle; really, I do. I'm not at all the only person who's ever had to deal with something similar, and it isn't really that huge of a deal. When it comes down to it, it's my wedding so I'll do things however I damn well please (pretty much, my future husband's the only one who'll have as much say as I do on things). Still, it feels like a big deal to me, because it's one of the few times that everyone isn't there. At your graduation, most parts of your wedding, having a child, etc.-- your father's role is not particularly more prominent than anyone else's. But at your wedding, it is very specifically a father's role to walk his daughter down the aisle and have a last dance with her at the reception. And, sure, there are alternative ways of handing all of that. I just wish, so much, that I didn't even have to think about them.
As I see it, there are a few options:
-The mother gives her away.
-Another person gives her away (such as brother, uncle, family friend).
-She walks down the aisle alone.
I'm going to be faced with this eventually, and I don't know what I'd want to do. I don't think, at least now, I'm close enough with either of my brothers to feel like they should do that. I don't think any of my other relatives or elder friends are close enough, either. I could have my mother give me away, but... part of me doesn't want someone else to stand there where I feel like my father should be. Still, part of me doesn't want to walk down the aisle by myself.
The weird thing is, this isn't something I need to worry about anytime soon. I know I'm kind of in a bad mood today, somewhat thinky, and a little overemotional... but it's a topic that's come up in my head many, many times since my dad died. I don't think wedding traditions necessarily have to be upheld or anything like that; it just feels to me like it's a role that my dad should be in, and if he can't be... I'm not sure what I would want to happen instead. I'm not sure if other people have come up with any better solutions than I have. I'm not sure I should even attempt to think about it until I need to.
I've said it before, but it scares me a little that I might not be able to fully enjoy big life events because a little part of me is sad that my dad isn't physically there. I know it sounds silly, he wouldn't want it, it probably won't happen, whatever. But I'm afraid that when I'm getting married, having a kid, getting a job, things like that- I won't be able to be 100% happy. And I guess that's okay... it's just depressing to think about.
I know people will want to comment with words of comfort, saying he is here, he's watching over me, etc... but I want him here. I don't want a long-distance relationship with my father, essentially, for the rest of my life, even if that is how things work. I want him to meet the people in my life that I care about, be able to talk to me and offer advice about what's going on in my life, and be physically present at events in my life. My memories are fading, and it hurts to think that eventually I might be left with little more than what photographs and home videos can show me.
I feel selfish worrying so much about a little thing like who's going to walk me down the aisle; really, I do. I'm not at all the only person who's ever had to deal with something similar, and it isn't really that huge of a deal. When it comes down to it, it's my wedding so I'll do things however I damn well please (pretty much, my future husband's the only one who'll have as much say as I do on things). Still, it feels like a big deal to me, because it's one of the few times that everyone isn't there. At your graduation, most parts of your wedding, having a child, etc.-- your father's role is not particularly more prominent than anyone else's. But at your wedding, it is very specifically a father's role to walk his daughter down the aisle and have a last dance with her at the reception. And, sure, there are alternative ways of handing all of that. I just wish, so much, that I didn't even have to think about them.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
échappé...
I wrote a few posts ago about dance, but this post is more specifically about ballet. I'm really missing it this week, and today a fabulous find on YouTube motivated me to get out my pointe shoes, put them on, and dance around the room. I'm not even kidding.
I'm starting swing, and really enjoying it. I've done a tiny bit of mambo, salsa, and some other types of dance... but ballet is somewhat unique.
Ballet is extremely disciplined, as dance forms go. There were times that the monotony of the barrework or the slow precision of port de bras in the center could get a little boring. And especially to those who have never danced, warmups and technique exercises probably seem utterly banal.
In the 13 years I danced ballet, it was fun, but more than that. Dance could become something of an escape for me. This did happen occasionally in another activity, like marching band or guard, but ballet was a little different, either because of its nature or just the fact that I'd done it for so long.
When I get upset over things, it often happens in the form of being what I call 'thinky.' I'll get in a bad mood, for one reason or another, or none at all, and overthink things. I'll think about one bad thing, which reminds me of another, and another... and suddenly I'm overwhelmed with worries, memories, regrets, and other unpleasant thoughts. Sometimes I want to sit around and be mopey, but most of the time I feel like getting away. I feel like pushing it all to the back of my mind and forgetting the world.
When I was thinky, ballet was amazing. As soon as I settled into the familiar routine of barrework, I'd concentrate on my turnout or my extension or how hard my toe was pointing or the shape of my arm... and eventually the soft piano melody just sank in and took over. I'd become so engrossed in the dancing that my problems would go into hiding for the time being. They didn't go away; dancing never made my problems disappear. But somehow, the thoughts driving me crazy would go into hiding for the time being, and I would relax. Pushing off of the floor, reaching into the air, pushing each extension higher, feeling the music... just dancing.
Sports players will talk about being 'in the zone,' and that's exactly what this was like. I would concentrate on moving, performing, dancing... and nothing else mattered. Even after the lesson, I'd come away feeling much more relaxed and so much less stressed than when I came.
It's a difficult thing to describe, but I miss it. I miss the feeling of the music sweeping me away into a world where all that matters is dance, and the rest of my life fades away. It's been a long time since I've felt it, and sometimes when I get really thinky, like earlier this week... I want that escape more than anything in the world.
I'm starting swing, and really enjoying it. I've done a tiny bit of mambo, salsa, and some other types of dance... but ballet is somewhat unique.
Ballet is extremely disciplined, as dance forms go. There were times that the monotony of the barrework or the slow precision of port de bras in the center could get a little boring. And especially to those who have never danced, warmups and technique exercises probably seem utterly banal.
In the 13 years I danced ballet, it was fun, but more than that. Dance could become something of an escape for me. This did happen occasionally in another activity, like marching band or guard, but ballet was a little different, either because of its nature or just the fact that I'd done it for so long.
When I get upset over things, it often happens in the form of being what I call 'thinky.' I'll get in a bad mood, for one reason or another, or none at all, and overthink things. I'll think about one bad thing, which reminds me of another, and another... and suddenly I'm overwhelmed with worries, memories, regrets, and other unpleasant thoughts. Sometimes I want to sit around and be mopey, but most of the time I feel like getting away. I feel like pushing it all to the back of my mind and forgetting the world.
When I was thinky, ballet was amazing. As soon as I settled into the familiar routine of barrework, I'd concentrate on my turnout or my extension or how hard my toe was pointing or the shape of my arm... and eventually the soft piano melody just sank in and took over. I'd become so engrossed in the dancing that my problems would go into hiding for the time being. They didn't go away; dancing never made my problems disappear. But somehow, the thoughts driving me crazy would go into hiding for the time being, and I would relax. Pushing off of the floor, reaching into the air, pushing each extension higher, feeling the music... just dancing.
Sports players will talk about being 'in the zone,' and that's exactly what this was like. I would concentrate on moving, performing, dancing... and nothing else mattered. Even after the lesson, I'd come away feeling much more relaxed and so much less stressed than when I came.
It's a difficult thing to describe, but I miss it. I miss the feeling of the music sweeping me away into a world where all that matters is dance, and the rest of my life fades away. It's been a long time since I've felt it, and sometimes when I get really thinky, like earlier this week... I want that escape more than anything in the world.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
I've started swing dance club, and I'm really enjoying it. I don't know what I'm doing, but I feel like it's something I could really be good at and have a lot of fun, too. And I miss dancing. Oh, I miss dancing.
I started dance when I was two- almost three- years old. Mom enrolled me in a class at the YWCA, and she said she was pretty sure I'd be good because I was really graceful as a kid. I don't even remember starting dance, I was so young. I do remember some lessons in the room of the YWCA, watching myself in the mirror while I danced, holding the barre-on-wheels in my leotard, tights, and tiny black ballet shoes (only beginners generally wear black shoes). I loved dance. At one point I tried a session of gymnastics, and I liked it, but my parents tried to limit each kid to one major activity when we were little, and I decided to stick with dance. I learned ballet and tap from a lady named Heather for a few years, until her student clientèle got so small (me and one other student) that she quit teaching.
Heather recommended two studios in town- one owned by her former teacher, and one owned by a lady she had studied with under the first teacher. Both were strong proponents of proper technique, and she knew both to be very good teachers. I went to the first studio for a lesson, but the class was terrible. The other girls were talking and misbehaving, and the dance teacher got so mad that she screamed at them and cracked her clipboard in half. I think I was about six at the time, and I was terrified of the old lady.
I visited the second studio with caution, but liked it much better. The teacher was younger, but obviously very experienced, and had a nice studio. She seemed like a good teacher, and very nice, and I started to take lessons there, from Kristie. (If you visit her website, which I just found, I'm in the second picture in the slideshow! So are a million other girls, but I'm still happy.)
I continued to take lessons from Kristie for about ten years, and during that time I met lots of friends from both my school and others. One, in particular, later joined my class in school, and is one of my best friends today despite living across the country (yay for Dominique!). I saw most of the same girls, who were about my level, at least twice a week for rehearsals. My honorary grandmother had always promised to buy my first pair of pointe shoes; apparently she'd danced when she was young and then quit, and had always regretted it. Finally, my dance teacher said I was ready to move up on pointe, and I was thrilled. Grandma Fran sent a check, and I was off to get fitted for my first pair of pointe shoes. After learning just the basics, my parents filmed a short video clip of me dancing on pointe to send to my grandma, and shortly thereafter, she died of cancer. Maybe not in person, but she did get to see me dance on pointe before she died, and that makes me happy. I danced on pointe as well as flat from then on.
One year I was in Stage Struck, the performing group. Quite a few of my dances were taken to the Indiana State Dance Championships (less of a competition, more of a place to get feedback from judges). We had recitals every two years. For about a year, I helped with a dance class for 3-year-olds. At one point, I started taking jazz (fast-paced, more modern dance... usually to pop music)... at one point, I stopped taking tap (it met on another night, and I couldn't drive yet, and Mom said three nights a week was just too much). I took a class in Cecchetti (a specific method and technique) and passed the grade 1 exam.
This isn't to brag; I honestly wasn't especially great at dance. Sure, I had some idea what I was doing and I wasn't bad, but... I took lessons for 13 years. If I completely sucked after that long, it'd be pretty sad. I had very few things in which I really excelled-- my back was very flexible, though, and my arabesques were occasionally used as an example (and, believe me, it was a high compliment to even be complimented, much less used as an example for others). Pretty much, though, I was the average to low-ability dance student in the oldest class, and I was okay with that.
Slowly, some of my friends left dance for one reason or another. The class mainly had older people I didn't know as well, and younger people who I got along with, but... probably one of my best friends in dance around the time I quit was 3 or 4 years younger than me. It wasn't an ideal situation, and as I added more and more activities to my schedule in high school, I started to dread dance rather than look forward to it. Eventually, I joined winterguard (where, ironically, my dance skills were praised to high heaven and I was utilized- my first year, at least- almost exclusively for dance parts, including a massive solo). Winterguard practices ended up meaning a lot of missed dance classes during a year where we were learning dances for an upcoming recital.
Finally, my dance teacher pulled me aside and told me that she didn't think I'd been there enough to be in the dances in the recital, despite coming sometimes and having already purchased costumes (which are usually about $50 each). She had a point; I'd missed a lot, and it would take a lot of time to learn the dances and get good enough to perform them. Still, it was a tough decision- like I said, as long as I could remember, I'd been in dance. But between having less friends in dance and not as much time and not enjoying it as much anymore and this... I decided to quit.
I don't really regret it-- I think it was best for me. But that doesn't mean I don't miss it sometimes.
I started dance when I was two- almost three- years old. Mom enrolled me in a class at the YWCA, and she said she was pretty sure I'd be good because I was really graceful as a kid. I don't even remember starting dance, I was so young. I do remember some lessons in the room of the YWCA, watching myself in the mirror while I danced, holding the barre-on-wheels in my leotard, tights, and tiny black ballet shoes (only beginners generally wear black shoes). I loved dance. At one point I tried a session of gymnastics, and I liked it, but my parents tried to limit each kid to one major activity when we were little, and I decided to stick with dance. I learned ballet and tap from a lady named Heather for a few years, until her student clientèle got so small (me and one other student) that she quit teaching.
Heather recommended two studios in town- one owned by her former teacher, and one owned by a lady she had studied with under the first teacher. Both were strong proponents of proper technique, and she knew both to be very good teachers. I went to the first studio for a lesson, but the class was terrible. The other girls were talking and misbehaving, and the dance teacher got so mad that she screamed at them and cracked her clipboard in half. I think I was about six at the time, and I was terrified of the old lady.
I visited the second studio with caution, but liked it much better. The teacher was younger, but obviously very experienced, and had a nice studio. She seemed like a good teacher, and very nice, and I started to take lessons there, from Kristie. (If you visit her website, which I just found, I'm in the second picture in the slideshow! So are a million other girls, but I'm still happy.)
I continued to take lessons from Kristie for about ten years, and during that time I met lots of friends from both my school and others. One, in particular, later joined my class in school, and is one of my best friends today despite living across the country (yay for Dominique!). I saw most of the same girls, who were about my level, at least twice a week for rehearsals. My honorary grandmother had always promised to buy my first pair of pointe shoes; apparently she'd danced when she was young and then quit, and had always regretted it. Finally, my dance teacher said I was ready to move up on pointe, and I was thrilled. Grandma Fran sent a check, and I was off to get fitted for my first pair of pointe shoes. After learning just the basics, my parents filmed a short video clip of me dancing on pointe to send to my grandma, and shortly thereafter, she died of cancer. Maybe not in person, but she did get to see me dance on pointe before she died, and that makes me happy. I danced on pointe as well as flat from then on.
One year I was in Stage Struck, the performing group. Quite a few of my dances were taken to the Indiana State Dance Championships (less of a competition, more of a place to get feedback from judges). We had recitals every two years. For about a year, I helped with a dance class for 3-year-olds. At one point, I started taking jazz (fast-paced, more modern dance... usually to pop music)... at one point, I stopped taking tap (it met on another night, and I couldn't drive yet, and Mom said three nights a week was just too much). I took a class in Cecchetti (a specific method and technique) and passed the grade 1 exam.
This isn't to brag; I honestly wasn't especially great at dance. Sure, I had some idea what I was doing and I wasn't bad, but... I took lessons for 13 years. If I completely sucked after that long, it'd be pretty sad. I had very few things in which I really excelled-- my back was very flexible, though, and my arabesques were occasionally used as an example (and, believe me, it was a high compliment to even be complimented, much less used as an example for others). Pretty much, though, I was the average to low-ability dance student in the oldest class, and I was okay with that.
Slowly, some of my friends left dance for one reason or another. The class mainly had older people I didn't know as well, and younger people who I got along with, but... probably one of my best friends in dance around the time I quit was 3 or 4 years younger than me. It wasn't an ideal situation, and as I added more and more activities to my schedule in high school, I started to dread dance rather than look forward to it. Eventually, I joined winterguard (where, ironically, my dance skills were praised to high heaven and I was utilized- my first year, at least- almost exclusively for dance parts, including a massive solo). Winterguard practices ended up meaning a lot of missed dance classes during a year where we were learning dances for an upcoming recital.
Finally, my dance teacher pulled me aside and told me that she didn't think I'd been there enough to be in the dances in the recital, despite coming sometimes and having already purchased costumes (which are usually about $50 each). She had a point; I'd missed a lot, and it would take a lot of time to learn the dances and get good enough to perform them. Still, it was a tough decision- like I said, as long as I could remember, I'd been in dance. But between having less friends in dance and not as much time and not enjoying it as much anymore and this... I decided to quit.
I don't really regret it-- I think it was best for me. But that doesn't mean I don't miss it sometimes.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
puppy love
I wrote a cheesy, very short story the other day for my class. I had to write a "narrative" about anything I wanted, and since my first text example in that class had been about my pirate dog stuffed animal, I stuck with that. It's nothing I'm really proud of, but I figure I'll share it anyway. Enjoy.
~*~
~*~
Wesley sighed. He crumpled up the note in his paw and shoved it into his desk, along with the four others he’d written and rejected that day.
Wesley had desperately wanted to ask
“Oh, come on,” the girl next to Wesley said. Rachel was never afraid to point out anyone’s wrongs; however, she actually was pretty observant and had a good idea of whatever was going on in the classroom at all times.
“What?” Wesley feigned innocence, but Rachel was not easily fooled.
“Just ask her already!” Rachel urged, rolling her eyes.
“Rachel, I have no chance. Besides, I’m sure she already has a date,” Wesley said.
“No way,” Rachel retorted. “She would’ve written a note to her best friend if she’d said yes to someone already.” Rachel had a point, and while she was often a pain, Wesley knew that he could trust her advice.
Wesley grabbed the last note he’d squished and did his best to flatten it out. He carefully wrote
Wesley stood up too fast, though, and tripped over his backpack. The note spilled out of Wesley’s hand, and the teacher scooped it up almost immediately.
“Wesley?” she asked, looking at the shy, studious pup with surprise. “I’m sorry, but you know the policy on passing notes in class.”
Mrs. Buttercream, a sweet older dog who would’ve never expected Wesley, one of her brightest and most obedient students to be caught passing a note. Nevertheless, her long-standing policy was strict, and she reluctantly unfolded the note. “
Wesley, now back in his seat, lowered his head to the desk in shame, but not before he heard the class erupt in laughter,
“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispered.
“This is all your fault!” Wesley mumbled as Mrs. Buttercream fought to get the raucous class back under control.
“Hey!” Rachel protested. “I think you’re partly to blame for liking such a prissy, pretentious pup when you have other, nice girls that like you a lot.”
“Oh yeah?” Wesley challenged, lifting his head from the desk. “Like who?”
And it was then, when Rachel suddenly became silent and avoided eye contact, that Wesley knew.
He and Rachel had a fabulous time at the Valentine’s dance.
Monday, January 22, 2007
let it snow
(I'm the one in the pink coat on the front sled with my dad and little brother.)One winter, when I was in second grade, my family went sledding with two families from our church. We've always done a lot with these two families- even now, we eat pizza once a week with one of them, and see the other family at least twice a year for camping and winter camping (they now live in a different state).
At home, I live just down the street from a park with plenty of great sledding hills. They're usually packed full of people after a big snow, but we would usually walk down there, too. This particular year, we'd met up with the other two families and we'd all spent a few hours careening down the hills, fighting over who got the good sleds, trying to see who could get the farthest, and steering to avoid trees and other sledders.
Finally, the parents told us that it was time to go. All of the kids, of course, were numb to the cold, too- but didn't want to leave. We begged for one last run down the hill, and the adults relented. "Just one last time," they reminded us.
I took off down the hill, sitting in a long, orange sled, enjoying the feeling of the wind and snowflakes in my face as I slid over the snow. When I'd finally reached the bottom, I trudged back up the hill, pulling the sled behind me by a rope attached to it.
As I walked up the hill for the last time, as I'd done so many times just that day, another sled came barrelling down the hill diagonally, almost running into me. The sled narrowly missed me, but the rope of my sled caught on their sled. Their sled kept going, and my rope tried to go with it, yanking my arm hard.
I started crying almost immediately, and hurried up the hill, holding my arm. The parents regretted letting us go down "one last time" when they realized I needed to go to the emergency room.
I only ended up with a badly sprained right arm. The doctors said it was almost broken, and so for weeks afterwards my arm was wrapped up and put in a Snoopy sling. I got out of doing some handwriting assignments at school, and I remember thinking that was awesome.
Since then, my family went sledding one more time together. On that trip, my older brother chipped a tooth badly. After that, my parents decided it was best to take a break from sledding for awhile, and we didn't go for a few years. And after that, we were old enough that we sometimes preferred hanging out with our friends to our family, so we've never really gone again. I did go once with friends in high school, but it's been awhile since I've gone sledding.
Last week I started going into an elementary school for my teaching classes. The first day we went, there was a small amount of snow on the ground, and the kids were so excited. My third graders were all telling me stories of playing in the snow in the past, or writing about what they were going to do after school.
It's snowing again today, and I overheard some college students making plans to go sledding. It reminded me of this story, and made me smile.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
believe in blue
Ewwwww.
http://playoffs.nfl.com/bandwagon/
I just went to this site, and the purpose is kind of fun. It has you answer five questions and tells you which team still in the playoffs you should cheer for. Although I'm against being a bandwagon fan, I decided to take it and see what they said.
For the record, I'm a Packers fan from Indiana. This means that, with the Packers out of the playoffs, I'm cheering for the Colts. If the Colts didn't win Sunday, I'd probably cheer for the Saints. I don't particularly like them, but I don't not like them. Next, it's hard to even say... I strongly dislike the Patriots for not really many good reasons (and they've had enough Super Bowls lately), and I hate the Bears (mainly because I'm a Packers fan, and they're our biggest rival). Let's just put it this way: I love football, but if we got down to a Patriots/Bears Super Bowl, I wouldn't really want to cheer for either team. I could go into the reasons why... but I'll save that for if it happens.
Anyway, this website is supposed to tell me which team I'm best suited to cheer for, and going into it, I know that my preferred teams are in this order: Colts, Saints, Patriots/Bears (I really can't decide). I went through their series of questions, none of which seem related to football (they somehow do relate them, but I guess I was expecting them to ask if you preferred watching more runs or passes, what style of offense, legacy vs. new teams, etc.). Finally, I got to the end, and after some buildup...
I got the Patriots. Ewww, ewww, ewww.
I tried it again, determined to not get the Patriots. And I didn't.
I got the Bears. Seriously, what the heck.
I tried one final time (the questions vary a little, which is good)... and got the Saints. Still not my preferred team, but I could at least deal with it.
Anyway. I may be a Cheesehead first and foremost, but Colts are close to home and almost always second on my list of teams to cheer for. I think Peyton Manning gets a little too much hype (at least around here), but he is a great quarterback with a ton of talent around him, both on offense and defense. They've played really well, and hopefully will keep playing well enough to win a Super Bowl. Go Colts! :)
http://playoffs.nfl.com/bandwagon/
I just went to this site, and the purpose is kind of fun. It has you answer five questions and tells you which team still in the playoffs you should cheer for. Although I'm against being a bandwagon fan, I decided to take it and see what they said.
For the record, I'm a Packers fan from Indiana. This means that, with the Packers out of the playoffs, I'm cheering for the Colts. If the Colts didn't win Sunday, I'd probably cheer for the Saints. I don't particularly like them, but I don't not like them. Next, it's hard to even say... I strongly dislike the Patriots for not really many good reasons (and they've had enough Super Bowls lately), and I hate the Bears (mainly because I'm a Packers fan, and they're our biggest rival). Let's just put it this way: I love football, but if we got down to a Patriots/Bears Super Bowl, I wouldn't really want to cheer for either team. I could go into the reasons why... but I'll save that for if it happens.
Anyway, this website is supposed to tell me which team I'm best suited to cheer for, and going into it, I know that my preferred teams are in this order: Colts, Saints, Patriots/Bears (I really can't decide). I went through their series of questions, none of which seem related to football (they somehow do relate them, but I guess I was expecting them to ask if you preferred watching more runs or passes, what style of offense, legacy vs. new teams, etc.). Finally, I got to the end, and after some buildup...
I got the Patriots. Ewww, ewww, ewww.
I tried it again, determined to not get the Patriots. And I didn't.
I got the Bears. Seriously, what the heck.
I tried one final time (the questions vary a little, which is good)... and got the Saints. Still not my preferred team, but I could at least deal with it.
Anyway. I may be a Cheesehead first and foremost, but Colts are close to home and almost always second on my list of teams to cheer for. I think Peyton Manning gets a little too much hype (at least around here), but he is a great quarterback with a ton of talent around him, both on offense and defense. They've played really well, and hopefully will keep playing well enough to win a Super Bowl. Go Colts! :)
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Peter Pan
I ran across an interesting article the other day. Those of you that know me probably know that I love biology- I started college as a bio major, worked at biology/science camps over the summer, and generally find a lot of biology topics to be very interesting.
Anyway, let me summarize this article for you (but please, feel free to read it all!): parents of a severely disabled girl named Ashley have given her a treatment to stunt her growth so that she is easier to care for. Ashley was 6 years old (she is now 9), with a disability that both doctors and parents doubt will improve. She was given intense hormone therapy, a hysterectomy, and breast bud removal. Her parents argue that this treatment will benefit Ashley, but there are obvious ethical concerns. Even if this case makes sense, some people seem to worry that the case could be a dangerous precedent for future cases.
I don't profess to have any clue what the parents of a severely disabled child go through each day; I have done some babysitting for a child with some disabilities, and even for short periods of time, I can see that it would be a huge challenge. It's great that these parents want to be able to continue caring for their child, I think, and they definitely have plenty of arguments for the "Ashley treatment," as they have called it. Ashley's doctors have been up front about the procedure, going through a hospital ethics committee and publishing about the case. I can understand much of the reasoning they say, but at the same time, I'm not sure I can say I believe it's right.
Stunting her growth is interesting to me because I had a friend with the opposite problem. She was abnormally small and short, and used hormone therapy over the course of a few years so that she could reach a typical height and weight (she's actually taller than me now, and I'm about 5'4). The shortage of growth hormones was also likely to affect her in other, less superficial ways, so this friend and her parents decided to pursue the option. However, this case is very different from Ashley's; not only was my friend's treatment correcting something abnormal and harmful, but she also was old enough and smart enough to have some say in the treatment (and eventually, give herself the shots each day).
In Ashley's case, she has no say in the treatment (her parents aren't even sure that she can recognize her family). Ashley was also on her way to physically end up like any human without a special condition. Part of me feels strange about that, but part of me doesn't. After all, each person has their own unique DNA, which gives the body 'instructions' for how they are supposed to turn out. Who's to say that it's 'right' to alter anything about the body, whether we think it's abnormal or not? Then again, who can accurately predict whether or not the treatment (especially the hormone therapy) will have any unforeseen long-term effects?
I'm also kind of afraid that this sort of treatment will be used more frequently. The thing with moral dilemmas is that there are arguments to go both ways, and that there is rarely a definite reason why they should or shouldn't occur. In this particular case, it seems okay to me- but the "Ashley treatment" is in no way necessary. Where will the boundary of right and wrong fall with future cases? What if the surgery is used for superficial reasons? If someone's entire family is tall, and they just don't want to have to buy clothes in special stores, would we allow them to stunt their growth?
Most of Ashley's parents' defense seems to be reasonable, but most of the reasons essentially are that she will be easier to care for. Ashley may benefit from this; she may not. Ashley's parents certainly will, though. Are parents too biased to make this sort of decision, or are they the only ones informed enough about the situation to make it?
It's a tough case, and lots of people have given their opinions on the matter. When it comes down to it, though, the case didn't really become public until three years after the girl began treatment. The parents and doctors have tried their best to explain the point of view that led them to pursue the treatment, and while others may argue... essentially, it's to no avail. No matter what anyone says at this point, this specific case is settled. Right or wrong-- Ashley has successfully undergone the treatment, with no known complications, and any damage has already been done.
I don't know whether it's right or wrong... but I sure hope the treatment really works well for Ashley.
Anyway, let me summarize this article for you (but please, feel free to read it all!): parents of a severely disabled girl named Ashley have given her a treatment to stunt her growth so that she is easier to care for. Ashley was 6 years old (she is now 9), with a disability that both doctors and parents doubt will improve. She was given intense hormone therapy, a hysterectomy, and breast bud removal. Her parents argue that this treatment will benefit Ashley, but there are obvious ethical concerns. Even if this case makes sense, some people seem to worry that the case could be a dangerous precedent for future cases.
I don't profess to have any clue what the parents of a severely disabled child go through each day; I have done some babysitting for a child with some disabilities, and even for short periods of time, I can see that it would be a huge challenge. It's great that these parents want to be able to continue caring for their child, I think, and they definitely have plenty of arguments for the "Ashley treatment," as they have called it. Ashley's doctors have been up front about the procedure, going through a hospital ethics committee and publishing about the case. I can understand much of the reasoning they say, but at the same time, I'm not sure I can say I believe it's right.
Stunting her growth is interesting to me because I had a friend with the opposite problem. She was abnormally small and short, and used hormone therapy over the course of a few years so that she could reach a typical height and weight (she's actually taller than me now, and I'm about 5'4). The shortage of growth hormones was also likely to affect her in other, less superficial ways, so this friend and her parents decided to pursue the option. However, this case is very different from Ashley's; not only was my friend's treatment correcting something abnormal and harmful, but she also was old enough and smart enough to have some say in the treatment (and eventually, give herself the shots each day).
In Ashley's case, she has no say in the treatment (her parents aren't even sure that she can recognize her family). Ashley was also on her way to physically end up like any human without a special condition. Part of me feels strange about that, but part of me doesn't. After all, each person has their own unique DNA, which gives the body 'instructions' for how they are supposed to turn out. Who's to say that it's 'right' to alter anything about the body, whether we think it's abnormal or not? Then again, who can accurately predict whether or not the treatment (especially the hormone therapy) will have any unforeseen long-term effects?
I'm also kind of afraid that this sort of treatment will be used more frequently. The thing with moral dilemmas is that there are arguments to go both ways, and that there is rarely a definite reason why they should or shouldn't occur. In this particular case, it seems okay to me- but the "Ashley treatment" is in no way necessary. Where will the boundary of right and wrong fall with future cases? What if the surgery is used for superficial reasons? If someone's entire family is tall, and they just don't want to have to buy clothes in special stores, would we allow them to stunt their growth?
Most of Ashley's parents' defense seems to be reasonable, but most of the reasons essentially are that she will be easier to care for. Ashley may benefit from this; she may not. Ashley's parents certainly will, though. Are parents too biased to make this sort of decision, or are they the only ones informed enough about the situation to make it?
It's a tough case, and lots of people have given their opinions on the matter. When it comes down to it, though, the case didn't really become public until three years after the girl began treatment. The parents and doctors have tried their best to explain the point of view that led them to pursue the treatment, and while others may argue... essentially, it's to no avail. No matter what anyone says at this point, this specific case is settled. Right or wrong-- Ashley has successfully undergone the treatment, with no known complications, and any damage has already been done.
I don't know whether it's right or wrong... but I sure hope the treatment really works well for Ashley.
Monday, January 08, 2007
service, please
One of the fun things about blogs is that anyone can be "published." Maybe it's just because I've always enjoyed reading and writing, but I think the idea of being published is exciting. And even more exciting is the possibility of being "discovered." I realize that it's incredibly unlikely, but there definitely are people who've become famous- both online and off- because of their blogs.
Most of the blogs I check are written by friends of mine, but I do occasionally run across some interesting blogs that I keep visiting.
I've never worked in a restaurant, but I definitely don't think a waiter has an easy job, and this blog confirms it. The writer is entertaining and insightful. He writes about his life in New York working at a popular bistro (though he recently quit), and I think it's worth a read.
Go, enjoy. :)
Most of the blogs I check are written by friends of mine, but I do occasionally run across some interesting blogs that I keep visiting.
I've never worked in a restaurant, but I definitely don't think a waiter has an easy job, and this blog confirms it. The writer is entertaining and insightful. He writes about his life in New York working at a popular bistro (though he recently quit), and I think it's worth a read.
Go, enjoy. :)
Friday, December 22, 2006
home for christmas
I always think of the holidays as such a happy time. I love Christmas-- the decorating, the music, the traditions. I love surprising people with gifts and being surprised with gifts. I love seeing Christmas lights on houses as I drive; I love seeing little kids' faces light up when they see Santa.
The only problem with the holidays is that they're so much the same every year and that they're almost always so happy. The traditions and memories are great, and most of the time it's good for the holidays to be happy... but having a ton of happy memories of things always being the same can make things hard when they're not so happy and somehow different.
I'm sorry if this entry is kind of depressing, but I've been less excited about Christmas this year anyway, and then a recent death in the family has kept me thinking.
The year my dad died, in '98, we went away for Christmas. Every single year we spend Christmas at home in Indiana, going through the same routine of Christmas Eve at church and my grandma's to celebrate with my mom's side of the family, Christmas morning opening gifts at home with my immediate family, and Christmas afternoon getting together with my dad's side of the family. The year my dad died, my mom decided she didn't want to be home, going through the same routine, where my dad's absence would be painfully obvious. Instead, we went to Disney World. We opened presents the afternoon before we left, got a family Christmas picture with Mickey and Minnie, and wore shorts on Christmas Day. Our dad was still on our minds, but Christmas felt so different in so many ways that none of us could dwell just on him.
Even eight years later, the holidays sometimes feel funny without my dad. Sure, in some ways, I'm used to him being gone-- I can remember about as many Christmasses with him as I can without (I was eleven when he died). Still, though, it's hard when he's not here, especially because his birthday is the day after Christmas.
This year, Dad's birthday is going to be even more emotional than usual. My aunt Lucy, my dad's sister, died yesterday morning, and both her viewing and funeral will be on my dad's birthday. I know it won't be fun for me this year, but I feel even worse for my cousins, whose holidays will forever be a little tainted by this year's events. Things won't be ruined, but I'm sure they'll never quite be able to forget. I'm just glad that they're old enough to have plenty of memories of merry Christmasses, too.
I don't mean for this to be a sob story for my family and me; we're just examples. A friend of mine recently had a grandpa die, and the season's been especially hard on her grandmother because the grandma is still receiving Christmas cards and letters addressed to both her and her husband. While going through his things, she found Christmas gifts that he'd bought ahead of time but not lived long enough to give. Even when there's not a death in the family, things changing are hard. My cousins moved to Florida, and the change in climate and lack of family close by has made the holidays feel a little lonely and strange, at least at first. I know another person for whom it hasn't been easy to adjust to the differences of Christmas after a divorce.
This feels like a really depressing topic, but... I guess the older I get, the more realistic I get, and the more I see the unhappy parts of the holidays. Some of the things that are great about the holidays are the very things that can make them unbearable. The traditions are fantastic until something changes, and suddenly they just make you sad. The special things you do together are so much fun until you can't do them together anymore.
It just makes me miss being a child, I guess. I like being smarter and older most of the time, but I think Christmas is one case where ignorance is bliss. I appreciate my childhood Christmasses so much more now that I'm too old to ever see it that same way again.
The only problem with the holidays is that they're so much the same every year and that they're almost always so happy. The traditions and memories are great, and most of the time it's good for the holidays to be happy... but having a ton of happy memories of things always being the same can make things hard when they're not so happy and somehow different.
I'm sorry if this entry is kind of depressing, but I've been less excited about Christmas this year anyway, and then a recent death in the family has kept me thinking.
The year my dad died, in '98, we went away for Christmas. Every single year we spend Christmas at home in Indiana, going through the same routine of Christmas Eve at church and my grandma's to celebrate with my mom's side of the family, Christmas morning opening gifts at home with my immediate family, and Christmas afternoon getting together with my dad's side of the family. The year my dad died, my mom decided she didn't want to be home, going through the same routine, where my dad's absence would be painfully obvious. Instead, we went to Disney World. We opened presents the afternoon before we left, got a family Christmas picture with Mickey and Minnie, and wore shorts on Christmas Day. Our dad was still on our minds, but Christmas felt so different in so many ways that none of us could dwell just on him.
Even eight years later, the holidays sometimes feel funny without my dad. Sure, in some ways, I'm used to him being gone-- I can remember about as many Christmasses with him as I can without (I was eleven when he died). Still, though, it's hard when he's not here, especially because his birthday is the day after Christmas.
This year, Dad's birthday is going to be even more emotional than usual. My aunt Lucy, my dad's sister, died yesterday morning, and both her viewing and funeral will be on my dad's birthday. I know it won't be fun for me this year, but I feel even worse for my cousins, whose holidays will forever be a little tainted by this year's events. Things won't be ruined, but I'm sure they'll never quite be able to forget. I'm just glad that they're old enough to have plenty of memories of merry Christmasses, too.
I don't mean for this to be a sob story for my family and me; we're just examples. A friend of mine recently had a grandpa die, and the season's been especially hard on her grandmother because the grandma is still receiving Christmas cards and letters addressed to both her and her husband. While going through his things, she found Christmas gifts that he'd bought ahead of time but not lived long enough to give. Even when there's not a death in the family, things changing are hard. My cousins moved to Florida, and the change in climate and lack of family close by has made the holidays feel a little lonely and strange, at least at first. I know another person for whom it hasn't been easy to adjust to the differences of Christmas after a divorce.
This feels like a really depressing topic, but... I guess the older I get, the more realistic I get, and the more I see the unhappy parts of the holidays. Some of the things that are great about the holidays are the very things that can make them unbearable. The traditions are fantastic until something changes, and suddenly they just make you sad. The special things you do together are so much fun until you can't do them together anymore.
It just makes me miss being a child, I guess. I like being smarter and older most of the time, but I think Christmas is one case where ignorance is bliss. I appreciate my childhood Christmasses so much more now that I'm too old to ever see it that same way again.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
I have always loved stories and writing.
My mom tells me about times she'd take me to the grocery store. I'd entertain myself while we shopped by picking up the cans and food items and making them talk to each other, weaving a story out of green beans and corn.
She's saved many things I wrote as a child- books I wrote (usually on one of my dad's yellow legal pads), sometimes finished with illustrations, sometimes leaving space for illustration later, and sometimes not quite finished. A few of the books were saved after I entered them in Young Authors conferences or similar programs.
Writing was always something that came easily to me, and I enjoyed, and I know it was very closely related to my love for reading. One time, in second grade, I got to pick a prize from the teacher's stash for some reason, and I picked out Into The Land of the Unicorns. In the front of the book, my teacher wrote something to the effect of "Great job. I look forward to reading one of your novels someday!" Obviously, her belief in me was something that stuck with me. Maybe I have a little talent, but honestly, I consider any writing skill I have to be the product of tons of reading. I'm proud of my writing, but I don't think I really have the passion or drive to pursue writing as a career. A part of me wishes I did; I do enjoy writing, and I respect talented writers a lot. Plus, I'm a little jealous of people who have a strong 'calling.' I've had so much indecision in my career choice- and still do, to some extent- that I can't help but envy people who know what they want and are meant to do for the rest of their life.
Anyway, one of the books I read for my Media for Children class this past semester was Kate DiCamillo's The Tiger Rising. Although many people in my class didn't like it much, I really enjoyed this book- perhaps because I could relate to it in some ways. After reading the book, I read the author's page in the back of the book. Kate DiCamillo (also the author of Because of Winn-Dixie) wrote about her motivation for writing the story, and I realized that this was what was missing from my writing. This is what I'm jealous of.
Kate DiCamillo says of THE TIGER RISING, "Rob Horton first showed up in a short story I was writing. I finished the story, but apparently Rob wasn’t finished with me. He hung around for weeks afterward, haunting the other stories I was working on. Finally, I said to him, ‘What in the world do you want?’ And he said, ‘I know where there’s a tiger.’ Like Sistine, I said one word back to him, ‘Where?’ THE TIGER RISING is how Rob Horton answered me."
I surely couldn't pin down the feeling in a word or phrase, but ... I want that. I want to be such a great writer that my characters become real, even to me.
I guess I'm not really sure why I wanted to blog about this; I guess I just really liked the quote. I feel like that's the way writing- at least fiction- should be.
My mom tells me about times she'd take me to the grocery store. I'd entertain myself while we shopped by picking up the cans and food items and making them talk to each other, weaving a story out of green beans and corn.
She's saved many things I wrote as a child- books I wrote (usually on one of my dad's yellow legal pads), sometimes finished with illustrations, sometimes leaving space for illustration later, and sometimes not quite finished. A few of the books were saved after I entered them in Young Authors conferences or similar programs.
Writing was always something that came easily to me, and I enjoyed, and I know it was very closely related to my love for reading. One time, in second grade, I got to pick a prize from the teacher's stash for some reason, and I picked out Into The Land of the Unicorns. In the front of the book, my teacher wrote something to the effect of "Great job. I look forward to reading one of your novels someday!" Obviously, her belief in me was something that stuck with me. Maybe I have a little talent, but honestly, I consider any writing skill I have to be the product of tons of reading. I'm proud of my writing, but I don't think I really have the passion or drive to pursue writing as a career. A part of me wishes I did; I do enjoy writing, and I respect talented writers a lot. Plus, I'm a little jealous of people who have a strong 'calling.' I've had so much indecision in my career choice- and still do, to some extent- that I can't help but envy people who know what they want and are meant to do for the rest of their life.
Anyway, one of the books I read for my Media for Children class this past semester was Kate DiCamillo's The Tiger Rising. Although many people in my class didn't like it much, I really enjoyed this book- perhaps because I could relate to it in some ways. After reading the book, I read the author's page in the back of the book. Kate DiCamillo (also the author of Because of Winn-Dixie) wrote about her motivation for writing the story, and I realized that this was what was missing from my writing. This is what I'm jealous of.
Kate DiCamillo says of THE TIGER RISING, "Rob Horton first showed up in a short story I was writing. I finished the story, but apparently Rob wasn’t finished with me. He hung around for weeks afterward, haunting the other stories I was working on. Finally, I said to him, ‘What in the world do you want?’ And he said, ‘I know where there’s a tiger.’ Like Sistine, I said one word back to him, ‘Where?’ THE TIGER RISING is how Rob Horton answered me."
I surely couldn't pin down the feeling in a word or phrase, but ... I want that. I want to be such a great writer that my characters become real, even to me.
I guess I'm not really sure why I wanted to blog about this; I guess I just really liked the quote. I feel like that's the way writing- at least fiction- should be.
Friday, December 15, 2006
attention whore
I've mentioned PostSecret and other such websites before, and I'm a little ashamed that I enjoy them so much, but... I do.
Anyway, this is just a post because I feel lame. I submitted a couple of secrets to LJsecret, the Livejournal community much like PostSecret, as I've done a few times before. I was 'published' twice this week-- and there's something of a thrill in seeing your creation out there for all of the Internet to see. You wonder if anyone who knows you will guess that it's you, and you wonder what random strangers are thinking about it. The sheer fact that I have a secret posted kind of feels like an exciting secret itself; unless I tell someone, admit something very specific, use a recognizable picture, or, basically, choose to-- my secret being posted is another secret in and of itself, and kind of a fun one.
I honestly don't feel lame for submitting a secret, or feeling a bit of joy seeing it posted, but... LJSecret is somewhat different from PostSecret in that anyone can comment- either anonymously, or signed in- on the secrets posts, and the secrets are numbered to distinguish between them. I've commented myself, before- sometimes I can relate to the secret, sometimes I want to offer words of encouragement, sometimes I agree or disagree, sometimes the secret is just pretty... and when I've posted a secret, I always glance over the comments to see if my secret particularly stood out to anyone enough for them to leave a comment.
The last secret I sent in that got posted not only got a comment, but got a lot. It was simple, and vague, but apparently people thought it was really creative and awesome. And so, I feel incredibly lame because a bunch of people liked something I made using Paint and MS Word in about 5 minutes with a random picture I found on Google... and I'm proud.
I keep going back and checking to see if anyone left more comments about my secret. People posted that they loved it, that it made their day, that it's their favorite secret ever... and I am seriously proud of this.
I think I need a hobby.
P.S.-- I realize that, with only a little work, someone I know can figure out which secret I'm talking about. That's okay; this secret's vague enough that you won't be exactly sure what I'm talking about anyway! :)
Anyway, this is just a post because I feel lame. I submitted a couple of secrets to LJsecret, the Livejournal community much like PostSecret, as I've done a few times before. I was 'published' twice this week-- and there's something of a thrill in seeing your creation out there for all of the Internet to see. You wonder if anyone who knows you will guess that it's you, and you wonder what random strangers are thinking about it. The sheer fact that I have a secret posted kind of feels like an exciting secret itself; unless I tell someone, admit something very specific, use a recognizable picture, or, basically, choose to-- my secret being posted is another secret in and of itself, and kind of a fun one.
I honestly don't feel lame for submitting a secret, or feeling a bit of joy seeing it posted, but... LJSecret is somewhat different from PostSecret in that anyone can comment- either anonymously, or signed in- on the secrets posts, and the secrets are numbered to distinguish between them. I've commented myself, before- sometimes I can relate to the secret, sometimes I want to offer words of encouragement, sometimes I agree or disagree, sometimes the secret is just pretty... and when I've posted a secret, I always glance over the comments to see if my secret particularly stood out to anyone enough for them to leave a comment.
The last secret I sent in that got posted not only got a comment, but got a lot. It was simple, and vague, but apparently people thought it was really creative and awesome. And so, I feel incredibly lame because a bunch of people liked something I made using Paint and MS Word in about 5 minutes with a random picture I found on Google... and I'm proud.
I keep going back and checking to see if anyone left more comments about my secret. People posted that they loved it, that it made their day, that it's their favorite secret ever... and I am seriously proud of this.
I think I need a hobby.
P.S.-- I realize that, with only a little work, someone I know can figure out which secret I'm talking about. That's okay; this secret's vague enough that you won't be exactly sure what I'm talking about anyway! :)
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
20 Things Guys Should Know About Girls- I Think?
Some groups on Facebook list things that guys and girls should know about or do to each other. Occasionally, I'll stumble on an interesting one. Often, there are some things I agree with completely, and others that I definitely don't. One major problem I have with these lists are that they often generalize both men and women like crazy. They did, however, get me thinking about what kinds of things I would put in a list. Here's what I came up with: a list of things that I think guys should know about girls.
It's not fool-proof; I'm sure some things won't fit with every guy or every girl. Still, I think it fits most situations and most girls pretty well. Let me know what you think, and thanks to any guy who's been awesome enough to help inspire my list! :)
It's not fool-proof; I'm sure some things won't fit with every guy or every girl. Still, I think it fits most situations and most girls pretty well. Let me know what you think, and thanks to any guy who's been awesome enough to help inspire my list! :)
1. We appreciate small gestures.
It might seem like all girls want five dozen roses or a diamond ring- and some girls do- but little gestures mean a lot, especially when for no reason at all. A single rose or a plastic ring you got from a machine for 25 cents may not seem like much, but it lets her know you’re thinking of her, and it’ll make her smile. Notes, especially, might not seem like much- but to a lot of girls, a random Post-It or text message is all it takes to feel special and loved. (Note: a 25-cent ring or similar gift may not be quite so appreciated on a special occasion.)
2. That said, a big gesture every once in awhile will also be appreciated.
Especially for a very important occasion, don’t be afraid to go a little over-the-top. You’ll want to make sure that it’s something the girl is okay with- if she’s easily embarrassed, she might not enjoy a personal serenade by you and five of your closest friends in the middle of downtown. A big gesture, especially one on which you’ve spent a lot of time, effort, or money, says that she’s worth it. (Note: I said a lot of time or effort, not just a lot of money—not all big gestures are expensive!) Sometimes you can use a talent or skill you already have, but personalize it!
3. Personal gifts mean the most.
Contrary to what some lists on Facebook will tell you, not every girl wants the same thing. While some girls would love you to buy them a box of chocolates and a teddy bear, not every girl would. Guys should find out what their girl likes- and if it’s one of the “classic” romantic gestures, fine. The important thing is that you’re getting her roses because they’re her favorite flower and you know she loves them, and not because she’s a girl and ‘girls like flowers.’ Giving a really good gift is hard, but it’s a great opportunity to show a girl that you know her and care about the things she likes and talks about.
4. We’re not all the same.
Try not to be sexist. Sometimes it’s not even intentional, but try not to assume things. Offer to take us fishing sometime; invite us to watch football with you. Yes, some of us are girly girls, and do things like stress over breaking a nail, obsess over Mr. Darcy, or not leave the house before our makeup is done. But there are girls all over the spectrum, and expecting us to be girly all the time is like us expecting you to be manly and macho all the time. Do you really want that?
5. Our friends mean a lot to us.
There may very well be times that friends come first, even above you. This isn’t because you’re not important; it’s just that sometimes it’s even more important to be there for a good friend. This also means that you should be civil, at least, to our friends. You may not get along with them well, but that’s not always a deal-breaker. If you are consistently rude or mean to a girl’s friends, though, it really doesn’t look good. She likes those friends for a reason, and she might just decide that anyone who can’t at least try to like her friends isn’t someone she should try to like. Plus, getting to know her friends can be helpful when you need a gift idea or some help to pull off a surprise.
6. Chick flicks are not always that bad.
Seriously—not all chick flicks are the same, and they’re not all terrible movies. If your girl really likes them, give them a chance. If you can’t stand chick flicks, even after watching a few, try to compromise! There are lots of movies that have a love plot as well as another one- such as comedy or action- that might hold the attention of both you and your lady. And if you do get stuck watching a chick flick and you hate them… my only advice is to try choosing one with a leading lady you find attractive!
7. Whether it’s a book, a ballet, a musical, a television show, a certain music artist, sports team, whatever- please show at least a mild interest.
You don’t have to like everything we like, but we love it if you take the time to find something out about an interest of ours. Be willing to try it- don’t knock a television show that your ladyfriend loves if you’ve never even watched it once. Even if you don’t like it, learning the basics about something a girl is interested in shows her that you actually care about the things she likes and talks about. As an extra bonus, learning about her interests may give you something to talk about with her if you’re struggling for conversation, and may give you insight on something that would be a great gift later!
8. Respect us.
I could list a million examples, but the important thing is this: treat us as an equal. We are not dumb; we are not incapable; we are not objects. On the other side, we are not better than you; we don’t deserve anything just for being a girl; we don’t need to be worshipped. We want you to do nice things for us because you want to make us happy, and not because you think we need or deserve your help or courtesy.
9. If something is upsetting you, tell us.
You don’t have to tell us what’s wrong, or talk to us about it, if you don’t want to. But it helps if you tell us at least that school’s stressing you out, a friend’s making you mad, or even just that you’ve got a lot on your mind. Especially once we know you well, it’s very possible that we’ll notice something’s wrong whether you tell us or not, and if you don’t tell us, it’s easy to assume that we might be part of what’s bothering you. Besides, we may be able to try to cheer you up, or try to help the situation if you tell us about it.
10. Don’t be afraid to compliment respectfully.
I think some guys get a little afraid of compliments being taken as “objectifying.” This kind of thing differs from girl to girl, I’m sure, but I know very few girls who don’t like to be complimented. The most important thing is that the compliments be genuine and respectful. Respectful may depend on the situation; ‘sexy’ might be more appropriate if she’s wearing lingerie and kind of going for that. Terminology can also help determine how respectful something is; obviously, ‘breasts’ sounds a little more respectful than ‘tits.’ Also, while any compliment is nice, sometimes specific compliments are especially great. “Your eyes look so beautiful when you wear that shirt” may sound more genuine than a vague “You’re pretty,” and helps add some variety!
11. Be proud of us.
You don’t have to show her off, take her everywhere, or talk about her constantly, but you should never act ashamed of a girl you like or date. Be willing to be seen in public with her, tell your friends you’re dating her... that sort of thing. If you’re not proud to be dating her, you either shouldn’t be dating her, or you care too much about what others think!
12. If you say you’ll do something, do it.
There are some valid excuses, of course, but really… it’s easiest to just not promise things you’re not sure you can do. It’s just plain disappointing, otherwise. If you consistently fail to follow through, girls (and, really, people in general) won’t be able to see you as dependable… and that’s definitely a great trait for a significant other to have. We’d rather you say “I might call you after work tonight, if it’s not too late” so that our expectations are at least realistic!
13. Listen to us- and talk, too!
Some people talk more; some people talk less. But, usually, when people talk, they want to be listened to. Listen to what we have to say, and then respond. Ask questions, state your opinion, offer advice; basically, engage in the conversation. Sure, listening can be informative and make her feel valued, too, but good communication is also just plain vital to a great friendship and relationship.
14. Be polite.
The definition of polite varies from girl to girl; I, for one, burp loudly and often, and wouldn’t at all mind a guy who did the same thing… other girls wouldn’t be able to stand it. Still- there are some basics. “Please” and “thank you,” for instance, are great. Most girls will be impressed by you opening a door for them or offering to pay for them, but not all—it’s best, I think, to get to know the girl you like. If she curses like a sailor, it’s probably okay for you to. If you’re not sure, ask her! If in doubt, be more ‘gentlemanly’ than you think is necessary. Extra politeness around family and friends can help make a good impression, too!
15. Treat us as a priority.
Every person’s priorities are different, and every girl probably has a different opinion of how high she needs to be on someone’s list of priorities. Family, close friends, academics, a sport—anything very, very important to a guy may top his girlfriend without much squabbling, depending on the girl. But, no matter what, we need to feel important too! Make an effort to make time to see us; be sure to talk to us; ask us about our lives, too. And… if you choose us over something else important once in awhile- it makes us feel really special!
16. Don’t get stupidly jealous.
You’re allowed to be a little jealous. It’s perfectly okay, and even a little sweet, to get slightly protective of your ladyfriend, but there’s definitely such a thing as overprotective. If you don’t have a reason to doubt us, don’t look for them! Many girls have guy friends, and it doesn’t mean that we like them as anything more than friends. Unless there is some blatant reason you shouldn’t, trust her!
17. Be honest.
If we find out you’ve lied, we’re going to wonder why- and, essentially, what you were trying to hide. It just doesn’t end well. A fib here and there- especially when it comes to our insecurities- is okay; optimism that’s a little unrealistic when we’re really upset might be okay, too. Most of the time, though, lies are just a bad idea. Honesty really is the best policy- especially if you want it in return!
18. Don’t assume it’s PMS.
There are plenty of reasons why a woman might be upset. Sometimes, PMS is one of them- but this is only true, at most, a fourth of the time. Even then, not all women get cranky during that time of the month. If you suggest to a woman that it’s just PMS, you’re minimizing our concerns (and probably making us angry). You should at least hear us out and consider what’s bothering us whenever we’re upset. It doesn’t mean we’re always right or that our concerns are always valid, but we do deserve the respect of you at least listening before you pass judgment.
19. If you’re wrong, admit it. If you hurt us, apologize.
I don’t mean to buy us things, though a lot of girls wouldn’t object to a gift; I just mean that you shouldn’t be stubborn if you somehow screwed up. A sincere, heartfelt apology does a lot to make things better and shows that you respect us. If you feel bad about something, even something little, it’s worth mentioning that you’re sorry. Willingness to admit mistakes is admirable and humble.
20. Don’t pressure us!
If you really care about and respect a girl, you won’t push her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. This definitely applies physically/sexually, but in other ways as well. The great thing about a relationship is that two individuals have a connection- but it’s important that you still remain individuals! Offering advice about what is best for a girl is okay, but she should remain true to herself, her values, and her morals (just as you should). If you like the girl already, as she is, why ask her to change?
Well, there’s my two cents. I realize, of course, that no list can apply in every situation, for every girl… but I tried!
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
ormrod.
I just saw an advertisement on TV for these things. How the heck do they work?
http://www.flypentop.com/view/page.home/home
From the website's tutorial, I gather that Fly Pentop computers can "read" what you're writing. This seems a little incredulous to me, but apparently that's how it works. In the homework or calculator modes, it can then offer you advice or the solution. It sounds like it would be cool if it worked, but it might not work for everyone's handwriting. But maybe I'm wrong.
Apparently, the computer has a few modes, including calculator, algebra, translator, FlyTones, and Scheduler. (FlyTones is a program in which you draw a keyboard and drums, and then tap them with the end of the pen to 'make music'.) If that's not enough, you can purchase extra kits for use with your FlyPen, like FlyGreetings, FlyFriends, and FlyJournal. The company makes money through the pens themselves, these extra kits, and the FlyPaper, which the pen apparently doesn't work without.
I'm dubious that it works as well as in the commercials, but if it did, it sounds cool.
From a teacher standpoint, I think I'd have mixed feelings. The translator mode might be great in some ways, but if a kid uses it too much (like any dictionary or translator), they won't really learn the vocabulary. Although this particular model "talks" through the answers, if this kind of thing is ever changed so that it's silent, teachers would have to be very careful to check what types of pens and pencils their students were using during tests. The FlyTones was probably added as a feature to make a homework-helping device more appealing to kids, but it could also be very distracting while kids are in class or working on homework. Still, I think overall it's a pretty cool product, if it works as well as it says. I like the algebra mode, especially-- the idea of talking kids through each step doesn't just give them the answer; it forces the student to find the answer and helps them learn the process.
Anyway... has anyone seen one of these in action, or tried it? I want to know how well it actually works!
P.S.-- Probably due to reading some of the things my friend Erica has written about advertising, I noticed that their website is pretty much awesome. It helped me understand the product, too, after seeing a 30-second commercial on TV. Might want to check it out. :)
http://www.flypentop.com/view/page.home/home
From the website's tutorial, I gather that Fly Pentop computers can "read" what you're writing. This seems a little incredulous to me, but apparently that's how it works. In the homework or calculator modes, it can then offer you advice or the solution. It sounds like it would be cool if it worked, but it might not work for everyone's handwriting. But maybe I'm wrong.
Apparently, the computer has a few modes, including calculator, algebra, translator, FlyTones, and Scheduler. (FlyTones is a program in which you draw a keyboard and drums, and then tap them with the end of the pen to 'make music'.) If that's not enough, you can purchase extra kits for use with your FlyPen, like FlyGreetings, FlyFriends, and FlyJournal. The company makes money through the pens themselves, these extra kits, and the FlyPaper, which the pen apparently doesn't work without.
I'm dubious that it works as well as in the commercials, but if it did, it sounds cool.
From a teacher standpoint, I think I'd have mixed feelings. The translator mode might be great in some ways, but if a kid uses it too much (like any dictionary or translator), they won't really learn the vocabulary. Although this particular model "talks" through the answers, if this kind of thing is ever changed so that it's silent, teachers would have to be very careful to check what types of pens and pencils their students were using during tests. The FlyTones was probably added as a feature to make a homework-helping device more appealing to kids, but it could also be very distracting while kids are in class or working on homework. Still, I think overall it's a pretty cool product, if it works as well as it says. I like the algebra mode, especially-- the idea of talking kids through each step doesn't just give them the answer; it forces the student to find the answer and helps them learn the process.
Anyway... has anyone seen one of these in action, or tried it? I want to know how well it actually works!
P.S.-- Probably due to reading some of the things my friend Erica has written about advertising, I noticed that their website is pretty much awesome. It helped me understand the product, too, after seeing a 30-second commercial on TV. Might want to check it out. :)
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
writing you a symphony of sound
Inspired by a part of Erica's WonderBlog post, and a site I found via StumbleUpon, I'm going to make a random mixtape-themed entry. Weird, I know, but I've done quite enough writing today about my life, and none of it is really beneficial or interesting, and I was motivated.
While reading this entry, I'd like to suggest a fitting song: "The Mixed Tape" by Jack's Mannequin. You can listen to it here, if you don't have it. Looks like it's a live version, but it'll do. (On an unrelated note, the last 'blog' entry is kind of interesting, too. At least, I liked it and thought it was well-written.) If you don't think you like Jack's Mannequin, don't worry. There's more music to be found later in the entry!
When I was younger, I used to make mixtapes. Usually, I'd do this while I was working on something like cleaning my room, but near the end of a song, I'd go over to the stereo and get ready to press record if I liked the song. I ended up with tapes that have the beginnings of songs cut off, or the DJ starting to talk at the end, but they included the music I liked. CD burners and mp3 players have pretty much rendered this kind of thing obsolete. Kind of crazy- it hasn't been that long since I was a kid, and it makes me feel old when I think of how much some things have changed. Even so, listening to my old mixtapes makes me smile- I hear them and remember songs that I loved, lyrics that I sang wrong, meanings I didn't understand yet, and memories involving the songs. Sometimes I'll even hit on something like a DJ saying "Z93" (the station has been Z92.5 for years now), and it cracks me up.
Some people use mixtapes, kind of like in the Jack's Mannequin song, as a gift for someone- to tell someone something, or let someone know how they feel. Even though this kind of thing is much easier with today's technology, I think it still holds almost as much of an emotional impact. Sure, it might not take as long to make, but it still takes a lot of time and thought to decide what songs to include to say just the right thing. And while there are many ways of expressing something... music, at least to me, is one of the best. Sometimes it's the lyrics; other times it's the melody; sometimes it's the instruments. Maybe it's because I'm somewhat of a music nerd, but sometimes I agree with my old band director: "Music expresses that which cannot be said but must be heard." Sometimes, a song is the only thing that says it right, or can really express what you're feeling, and someone picking out a whole tape or CD of songs just for you... it's got to feel pretty special, and mean a lot.
So... even though technology has eliminated the need for mixtapes from the radio as a way of listening to a variety of songs in a row, mix tapes and CD's definitely still have a place, I think. In the mood to try this out yourself, quickly?
This site, the one I found using StumbleUpon, allows you to listen to some music, and send a song out to others (as a secret admirer, even). The intros to each song are mega-annoying, but some of the songs are fun. I haven't listened to all of them, so let me know your recommendations:
You know I wanna do it too
Out here on the dance floor
We can make sandwiches
You can be the bun
And I can be the burger girl"
So... go, listen to some music, if you'd like, and maybe send someone a song :) Show them how you feel, or just make them smile because they know you were thinking of them. It's like a mini mix-tape, via email, and it's a quick and easy way to brighten someone's day. Happy Mix-taping!
(cross-posted to my personal journal, because I felt like it.)
While reading this entry, I'd like to suggest a fitting song: "The Mixed Tape" by Jack's Mannequin. You can listen to it here, if you don't have it. Looks like it's a live version, but it'll do. (On an unrelated note, the last 'blog' entry is kind of interesting, too. At least, I liked it and thought it was well-written.) If you don't think you like Jack's Mannequin, don't worry. There's more music to be found later in the entry!
When I was younger, I used to make mixtapes. Usually, I'd do this while I was working on something like cleaning my room, but near the end of a song, I'd go over to the stereo and get ready to press record if I liked the song. I ended up with tapes that have the beginnings of songs cut off, or the DJ starting to talk at the end, but they included the music I liked. CD burners and mp3 players have pretty much rendered this kind of thing obsolete. Kind of crazy- it hasn't been that long since I was a kid, and it makes me feel old when I think of how much some things have changed. Even so, listening to my old mixtapes makes me smile- I hear them and remember songs that I loved, lyrics that I sang wrong, meanings I didn't understand yet, and memories involving the songs. Sometimes I'll even hit on something like a DJ saying "Z93" (the station has been Z92.5 for years now), and it cracks me up.
Some people use mixtapes, kind of like in the Jack's Mannequin song, as a gift for someone- to tell someone something, or let someone know how they feel. Even though this kind of thing is much easier with today's technology, I think it still holds almost as much of an emotional impact. Sure, it might not take as long to make, but it still takes a lot of time and thought to decide what songs to include to say just the right thing. And while there are many ways of expressing something... music, at least to me, is one of the best. Sometimes it's the lyrics; other times it's the melody; sometimes it's the instruments. Maybe it's because I'm somewhat of a music nerd, but sometimes I agree with my old band director: "Music expresses that which cannot be said but must be heard." Sometimes, a song is the only thing that says it right, or can really express what you're feeling, and someone picking out a whole tape or CD of songs just for you... it's got to feel pretty special, and mean a lot.
So... even though technology has eliminated the need for mixtapes from the radio as a way of listening to a variety of songs in a row, mix tapes and CD's definitely still have a place, I think. In the mood to try this out yourself, quickly?
This site, the one I found using StumbleUpon, allows you to listen to some music, and send a song out to others (as a secret admirer, even). The intros to each song are mega-annoying, but some of the songs are fun. I haven't listened to all of them, so let me know your recommendations:
- "Dangerous," "Kiss on My List" and "I Melt With You" are all songs that you'll probably know, even if you don't think you do from the title.
- I highly suggest "Yellow" for a much unexpected and surprisingly cheery version of a depressing Coldplay song.
- The song "Sandwiches" is also hilarious, which such lyrics as:
You know I wanna do it too
Out here on the dance floor
We can make sandwiches
You can be the bun
And I can be the burger girl"
So... go, listen to some music, if you'd like, and maybe send someone a song :) Show them how you feel, or just make them smile because they know you were thinking of them. It's like a mini mix-tape, via email, and it's a quick and easy way to brighten someone's day. Happy Mix-taping!
(cross-posted to my personal journal, because I felt like it.)
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