As usual, this is not what I should be doing right now, but life is just too good not to document at the moment.
It's becoming more apparent that this blog is now functioning mainly as a device through which I can gush about things that I'm happy about. This is probably getting pretty annoying for my readers(Coley), but since I — like many people my age — am still on the fence about my religious feelings, I think something just makes me feel like I need to acknowledge the good stuff in my life...even if not outrightly being thankful for it...even though I am.
It's confusing, I know, but I was raised in a church-going family that made me go to Sunday school every week and sing in the church choir for years. I also have an unbelievably sweet and kind and very-much Jesus-loving(nothing wrong with it) grandmother who sends me weekly letters reminding me how special I am and that she prays for me "ever A.M. and P.M., and sometimes in between". Despite all of this, my siblings and I all seem to have turned out fairly agnostic. This doesn't really bother our parents, but I think —at least in my Dad's case —it still makes them a little uneasy... or disappointed, I don't know.
I like to think that I still recognize how lucky I am and don't take things too much for granted. Of course I do sometimes — we all do, right? — but I honestly can't ignore how fucking great life is sometimes. That may not have been the most eloquent way to phrase that, but I think it sums up my feelings rather well.
Maybe it's mostly laziness that keeps me from making up my mind about about religion. It's so easy to say "I don't agree with organized religion" and cite all of the flaws throughout history. Most of us are really just using our youth as an excuse to be indifferent about it, as we do about pretty much everything else. In some respects, I do think that I shouldn't have to make my mind up now. I don't feel like there's a rush. I don't have any problem with people who are respectfully and intelligently religious, but I cannot imagine myself following a single-set dogma for the rest of my life unquestioningly like others.
Sometimes, I get a little envious of that kind of faith. I'm sure a lot of people do.
That concludes tonight's random giddy outburst. I'll try to actually come about something next time.
Here's a nice happy music video with pretty people farting butterflies.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
This is what I want to do.
Holy shit. I can't sum it up better than that. Really. Reporting breaking news is the best rush I've ever had.
I just got back from a total of about seven, maybe even eight, hours or reporting this huge protest on campus. There were news choppers and associated press reporters and cameras everywhere, and me and my fellow campus reporters darting around trying to get everything that was happening. It was nerve-wracking and scary and exhausting and the absolute most exciting thing I've probably ever been directly involved with. I learned so much today. I feel like I'm already a seasoned reporter, even though I know I have way more stuff to learn.
Even though protests here are by no means unusual - in fact they're pretty much a daily, or at least weekly, thing to some extent - this one was bigger than most. I was literally coming out of class in one of the main buildings on campus when it started. Seven students protesting budget cuts tied themselves together on the fourth story ledge of this building, and refused to come down until their demands were met. I saw my editor talking to an older reporter, went over and asked what I could do, and that was it. They were depending on me for updates and quotes from the scene for the rest of the day.
Demonstrators on the ground bellow held a rally the entire time, chanting about the fee hikes at the university and comparing us to Egypt and Wisconsin(a little melodramatic maybe but hey, they're passionate about this stuff). Riot police showed up to close the doors of the building, and a bunch of people got pepper sprayed and hit with batons. I got to talk to a bunch of those people, including one of the protesters who was chained up on the ledge after they came down later when the administration agreed to meet most of their demands.
It was just incredible. Calling my editors up every few minutes with updates, talking to such passionate people, getting advice and directions from older reporters, seeing my name on the byline for the coverage, and just being there in general. If there was ever a time when I doubted whether or not I wanted to go into journalism, today pretty much put an end to that. I'm sure there'll be times in the future when I'm covering something difficult or super boring when I start to get discouraged, but hopefully thinking back to today will help me get past it and remember what it's like to be a reporter on the front lines of breaking news that truly matters.
I just got back from a total of about seven, maybe even eight, hours or reporting this huge protest on campus. There were news choppers and associated press reporters and cameras everywhere, and me and my fellow campus reporters darting around trying to get everything that was happening. It was nerve-wracking and scary and exhausting and the absolute most exciting thing I've probably ever been directly involved with. I learned so much today. I feel like I'm already a seasoned reporter, even though I know I have way more stuff to learn.
Even though protests here are by no means unusual - in fact they're pretty much a daily, or at least weekly, thing to some extent - this one was bigger than most. I was literally coming out of class in one of the main buildings on campus when it started. Seven students protesting budget cuts tied themselves together on the fourth story ledge of this building, and refused to come down until their demands were met. I saw my editor talking to an older reporter, went over and asked what I could do, and that was it. They were depending on me for updates and quotes from the scene for the rest of the day.
Demonstrators on the ground bellow held a rally the entire time, chanting about the fee hikes at the university and comparing us to Egypt and Wisconsin(a little melodramatic maybe but hey, they're passionate about this stuff). Riot police showed up to close the doors of the building, and a bunch of people got pepper sprayed and hit with batons. I got to talk to a bunch of those people, including one of the protesters who was chained up on the ledge after they came down later when the administration agreed to meet most of their demands.
It was just incredible. Calling my editors up every few minutes with updates, talking to such passionate people, getting advice and directions from older reporters, seeing my name on the byline for the coverage, and just being there in general. If there was ever a time when I doubted whether or not I wanted to go into journalism, today pretty much put an end to that. I'm sure there'll be times in the future when I'm covering something difficult or super boring when I start to get discouraged, but hopefully thinking back to today will help me get past it and remember what it's like to be a reporter on the front lines of breaking news that truly matters.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
"Those who do... DO IT BECAUSE IT WAS TAUGHT TO THEM."
Now that I'm trying to keep up with current events more, I'm remembering how angry most of this stuff tends to get me. Like the argument that seems to be going around amongst pundits lately that teachers are greedy and overpaid considering the little work they do, thus we should be cutting their benefits and pensions rather than those of the appallingly rich, say, hedge fund managers or corporate CEOs.
Now I'm not saying I haven't had lazy teachers, or bad teachers, or teachers who just seemed to be coasting through to the end of the day for the sake of a paycheck. But that doesn't mean those outliers can detract from the ones who matter. Like the 4th grade teacher who encouraged my creative writing. Or the 8th grade teacher who enthralled me and generations of other students with his demonstrations in science class. Or the 9th grade teacher who sparked my passion for Shakespeare. Or the 7th grade teacher who made helped me learn how to express my opinions and ideas confidently, whatever they were. Or the 2nd grade teacher who would still send me notes throughout high school, congratulating me on an article I'd recently had in the local newspaper.
I'm sincerely sorry for those people who think teachers aren't worth the considerably meager in comparison pay they receive, because they must not have had the kind of teachers I did. And that's really sad.
Here's a video one of those teachers recently posted on facebook, and for so many teachers out there, it's the absolute truth.
Now I'm not saying I haven't had lazy teachers, or bad teachers, or teachers who just seemed to be coasting through to the end of the day for the sake of a paycheck. But that doesn't mean those outliers can detract from the ones who matter. Like the 4th grade teacher who encouraged my creative writing. Or the 8th grade teacher who enthralled me and generations of other students with his demonstrations in science class. Or the 9th grade teacher who sparked my passion for Shakespeare. Or the 7th grade teacher who made helped me learn how to express my opinions and ideas confidently, whatever they were. Or the 2nd grade teacher who would still send me notes throughout high school, congratulating me on an article I'd recently had in the local newspaper.
I'm sincerely sorry for those people who think teachers aren't worth the considerably meager in comparison pay they receive, because they must not have had the kind of teachers I did. And that's really sad.
Here's a video one of those teachers recently posted on facebook, and for so many teachers out there, it's the absolute truth.
You could argue that I'm biased. My mother was a teacher for a time and still works with young children and reading. I also have two older siblings who are teachers, so I hear about what they go through. But I also just graduated from a public high school in the past year, so I know the bullshit teachers have to wade through just to do their damn jobs from first-hand experience. I'm often annoyed when I hear older generations talking about how disrespectful my generation is, because they're lumping me and my friends into that group, but the truth is that for a significant portion, they're right. It's a tough fucking job to deal with some of us day-in and day-out. But it's one of the most important things you can possibly do. And that day doesn't "end at 2:30pm" for most of them, as I heard one pundit saying. They have tests and papers to grade, lessons to prepare in order to get their students to meet government standards, and of course the baggage of administrative stress going on in schools all over the country. And then there's the teachers who bring home their student's problems to, struggling to figure out how they can help them in the classroom when the real issues facing a particular student may really be at home.
This may all end up sounding a little over-dramatic, but these kinds of attacks on teachers just makes me realize how unbelievably backward our country is when we consider cutting their benefits and pensions...
...but GOD FORBID we raise taxes on the rich.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
I MUSTACHE you a question...
...but I'll shave it for later.
Who doesn't love a good pun? Especially when it involves mustaches- Thus begins my long-winded explanation of my fixation with mustache-humor.
I speak, first and foremost, about the phenomenon knowns as fingerstaches(I've only recently found out that this is the official name, which was depressing considering I had previously thought that my friends and I came up with it). If you don't know what I'm talking about(though I think you do, since I only know of two people who read this blog and they are definitely both well aware), then I suggest you educate yourself, because you are missing out my friend. Below, you will find a visual manifestation of what I'm talking about.
Fingerstaches are hilarious. Plain and simple. In fact, I think the simplicity of the concept is really the key to its humor. Perhaps it's just the fact that something so commonplace can be made to look so utterly ridiculous, merely by tattooing it temporarily onto a bodily appendage, that makes it so enjoyable for me.
And it doesn't stop there. Oh no. Out of finger staches there has emerged a slew of mustache related items that are now being produced to my utter . Since my friends and family are fully aware of my stache-obsession, I now own all of the following items:
I would like to add that, despite the sheer giddiness a good fingerstache induces in me, I do not particularly enjoy them in their natural state. That is, I'm not really attracted to facial fuzz on an actual person. Not disgusted by it either, indifferent really, but I just wanted to make sure it's clear that I DO NOT have any kind of mustache fetish. I'm no freak, thank you.
In conclusion, this probably won't be the last mustache post I write, so this really isn't a conclusion. I think I was just gushing with mustache-fever, prompted by what I received in the mail yesterday. This is probably THE longest post I've written as of yet. Not sure if I'm particularly proud of that. Let's face it, I could write a book about my love for all things mustache............
...more word on book deals later.
Hope you enjoy this Coley!
Who doesn't love a good pun? Especially when it involves mustaches- Thus begins my long-winded explanation of my fixation with mustache-humor.
I speak, first and foremost, about the phenomenon knowns as fingerstaches(I've only recently found out that this is the official name, which was depressing considering I had previously thought that my friends and I came up with it). If you don't know what I'm talking about(though I think you do, since I only know of two people who read this blog and they are definitely both well aware), then I suggest you educate yourself, because you are missing out my friend. Below, you will find a visual manifestation of what I'm talking about.
As you can see, one merely draws a mustache upon the index finger(using a sharpie or what-have-you), and then places said finger betwixt the nose and mouth, in a manner mimicking the actual presence of a mustache.
Fingerstaches are hilarious. Plain and simple. In fact, I think the simplicity of the concept is really the key to its humor. Perhaps it's just the fact that something so commonplace can be made to look so utterly ridiculous, merely by tattooing it temporarily onto a bodily appendage, that makes it so enjoyable for me.
And it doesn't stop there. Oh no. Out of finger staches there has emerged a slew of mustache related items that are now being produced to my utter . Since my friends and family are fully aware of my stache-obsession, I now own all of the following items:
- Various adhesive mustaches from vending machines.
- A removable, full-form fake mustache- purchased in a novelty store in Cleveland.
- A mustache mug- picturing famous mustaches belonging to such individuals as Salvidor Dali, Mark Twain, and Freud... as well as Frida Kahlo's eyebrows.
- Fingerstache tattoos- including various styles and sent across the country to me by a friend in Pittsburgh who knew that it would mean that much.
- A gigantic mustache magnet- I have yet to figure out what to do with this Christmas present, besides clearing everything else of the fridge and sticking it on there, because it would literally take up that much room.
- And now, at last, a mustache joke t-shirt!-actually the same joke that I began with, and sent to me just yesterday me by my friend in Denver, who saw it and bought it for me without hesitation, for which I am forever grateful.
I would like to add that, despite the sheer giddiness a good fingerstache induces in me, I do not particularly enjoy them in their natural state. That is, I'm not really attracted to facial fuzz on an actual person. Not disgusted by it either, indifferent really, but I just wanted to make sure it's clear that I DO NOT have any kind of mustache fetish. I'm no freak, thank you.
In conclusion, this probably won't be the last mustache post I write, so this really isn't a conclusion. I think I was just gushing with mustache-fever, prompted by what I received in the mail yesterday. This is probably THE longest post I've written as of yet. Not sure if I'm particularly proud of that. Let's face it, I could write a book about my love for all things mustache............
...more word on book deals later.
Hope you enjoy this Coley!
Monday, February 14, 2011
I've been rather neglectful.
I was assigned a blogpost today for my assignment, so naturally I was thinking about my neglected blog here. I guess part of the reason I neglect it is because I still don't know what the point of it is. So far I've just been talking about myself and whatever random things are on my mind. I don't know, maybe that's the definition of a personal blog. Hopefully I'll do better from here on out...
It's Valentine's Day, so I suppose I could go the predictable route of posting kitschy songs or something, or going the other direction entirely by branding the day as a materialistic ploy or declaring my defiantly proud single status.
I don't really feel like doing either, though. Valentine's Day is nice. I don't feel the need to go on and on about it, but I've always enjoyed it. It's a good reminder to tell your friends and family that you love them - and vice versa - since we usually don't stop to do that. I actually am listening to a cute little VDay song a friend sent me... and I may have just sent a sappy facebook message to my friends back home.
I'm not going to say that I'm overly happy to be single. I don't have a problem with it, and I'm certainly happy the way things are, but it would be nice to have someone around who gives you butterflies, or who you can brag to your Grandma about. I'm not longing, but I guess I can't say I'm not looking.
Ok, I lied. I'm going to post a cute valentine that a friend of mine sent me. She knows how stressed reporting for the newspaper has been making me, so this was quite appropriate.
It's Valentine's Day, so I suppose I could go the predictable route of posting kitschy songs or something, or going the other direction entirely by branding the day as a materialistic ploy or declaring my defiantly proud single status.
I don't really feel like doing either, though. Valentine's Day is nice. I don't feel the need to go on and on about it, but I've always enjoyed it. It's a good reminder to tell your friends and family that you love them - and vice versa - since we usually don't stop to do that. I actually am listening to a cute little VDay song a friend sent me... and I may have just sent a sappy facebook message to my friends back home.
I'm not going to say that I'm overly happy to be single. I don't have a problem with it, and I'm certainly happy the way things are, but it would be nice to have someone around who gives you butterflies, or who you can brag to your Grandma about. I'm not longing, but I guess I can't say I'm not looking.
Ok, I lied. I'm going to post a cute valentine that a friend of mine sent me. She knows how stressed reporting for the newspaper has been making me, so this was quite appropriate.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Oh that's right, I have a blog!
I'd love to go ahead and tell myself that I'm going to keep up more regularly, but I'd only be lying to myself if I didn't recognize the fact that I'm only posting right now because I should be doing other things.
I have a daunting amount of untouched homework right now as well as an article due for the newspaper tomorrow, and on top of being a source short I have no idea what I'm talking about in it. I'm writing for the our school newspaper now. It's pretty exciting, my first article was published on the front page on Tuesday. That was really cool. I really only co-wrote the article with a more seasoned reporter that I was shadowing, but it was still pretty exciting.
Even though the pay-off is rewarding, writing the stories themselves is proving to be ridiculously stressful at the moment. I know I'm still learning, but I really hope it's going to get better, and by better I mean more interesting/I'll have more of an idea of what I'm doing/I won't procrastinate as much/I won't make a complete ass of myself. We'll just have to wait and see I guess. One thing I can assure you right now, it's going to be a looooooong semester.
I have a daunting amount of untouched homework right now as well as an article due for the newspaper tomorrow, and on top of being a source short I have no idea what I'm talking about in it. I'm writing for the our school newspaper now. It's pretty exciting, my first article was published on the front page on Tuesday. That was really cool. I really only co-wrote the article with a more seasoned reporter that I was shadowing, but it was still pretty exciting.
Even though the pay-off is rewarding, writing the stories themselves is proving to be ridiculously stressful at the moment. I know I'm still learning, but I really hope it's going to get better, and by better I mean more interesting/I'll have more of an idea of what I'm doing/I won't procrastinate as much/I won't make a complete ass of myself. We'll just have to wait and see I guess. One thing I can assure you right now, it's going to be a looooooong semester.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Aaaaaaaaand we're back
...at school, that is. I have to say it really feels like I never left. I can't wait to catch up with everyone and see the campus again. It's so beautiful here. Admittedly, I'm not overly excited for classes to start, but it doesn't really dampen the rest at all.
I'm so freakin lucky. That's about it.
I'm so freakin lucky. That's about it.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Soylent Green is PEOPLE!
Of course, one of the most popular recurring themes in science fiction involves the plight of mankind as it continues to grow at an ever-increasing rate. What will happen to the Earth the as demands for resources rise while the resources themselves become more and more scarce?
I have to admit, thinking about it makes me worry about what will happen to us, to the environment, and to the planet in general. It's incredible, as you can see in this video, how quickly the population is expanding. It raises all kinds of questions about the morality of preserving life in the face of overpopulation. This video is somewhat reassuring, if only by showing that there is hope that balance may be able to preserve our existence as birth rates climb and death rates fall.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Mele Kalikimaka!
Sorry for the last post, I told myself I wasn't going to write about serious/political things. Admittedly, I knew that wasn't going to happen. I'll try to keep it a little lighter for the most part.
For Christmas, my lovely brother gave me an ukulele! Now keeping in mind that I've literally no musical ability whatsoever, I'm already quite happy with my progress, if I may say so myself. It's an adorable little yellow Makala. Actually it's really cheap; it doesn't stay tuned for very long. Andy's given me a few pointers, he basically taught himself this fall after we got one for him for his birthday in July. Now I just discovered this website, ukeschool.com, which has free lessons and tuning guides and chord charts and everything I need. My fingers are getting pretty sore. Unfortunately, I really can't bring it to school with me, as I already go to extreme lengths to distract myself and really don't need the added bonus of a musical instrument to torture my roommates with. So that leaves me a little more than two weeks to try and learn as much as possible....which may amount to very little, indeed.
Anyway, ukeschool is great. One hour lessons once a day, and interactive shtuff you can play along to. My goal, longterm that is, is to one day play this song relatively well.
Due to my inherent lack of singing ability, that day may be a long way off.
For Christmas, my lovely brother gave me an ukulele! Now keeping in mind that I've literally no musical ability whatsoever, I'm already quite happy with my progress, if I may say so myself. It's an adorable little yellow Makala. Actually it's really cheap; it doesn't stay tuned for very long. Andy's given me a few pointers, he basically taught himself this fall after we got one for him for his birthday in July. Now I just discovered this website, ukeschool.com, which has free lessons and tuning guides and chord charts and everything I need. My fingers are getting pretty sore. Unfortunately, I really can't bring it to school with me, as I already go to extreme lengths to distract myself and really don't need the added bonus of a musical instrument to torture my roommates with. So that leaves me a little more than two weeks to try and learn as much as possible....which may amount to very little, indeed.
Anyway, ukeschool is great. One hour lessons once a day, and interactive shtuff you can play along to. My goal, longterm that is, is to one day play this song relatively well.
Due to my inherent lack of singing ability, that day may be a long way off.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
It's over, YOU LOST.
Today(or I guess yesterday now), Obama signed the act which repeals "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" in the military. A month or two ago, a federal judge ruled that Prop 19 is unconstitutional. Discrimination against gays is slowly coming to an end. So why, I ask you, why do people continue to fight it?
As long as it may take us, our society has a way of slowly correcting its wrongs. Gay marriage WILL eventually be legal. Gay couples WILL eventually be able to adopt. And discrimination, let alone blatant hatred, towards LGBT individuals will one day no longer be tolerated in any institution or public setting. That's not to say it will be completely eradicated, since racism and sexism still exist despite great strides, but gays and lesbians and transexuals will be able to be open about who they are without needing to fear an immediate backlash from their family, friends, peers, or coworkers.
It's so tedious. Why do people have to try stand in the way of what's already a reality? The time and energy they waste spreading homophobia and hatred could be so much better spent doing good. I guess it's easy for me to say that when I've been raised to accept homosexuality, but I just can't understand what anyone can have against two people, who love each other just like anyone else does, making a commitment to one another and spending the rest of their lives together. There's just no argument that can hold up against it. It's love, damn it. It may be cliche and lame but that's what it is and saying it's unnatural or evil isn't going to stop it from happening. I'm sick of it, there are literally THOUSANDS of other issues that should be taking up our attention! Can't we just get past who has sex with who and just move on to the bigger picture?
Anyway, this is a video a friend of mine showed me. She's gay, and I think this really helped her not to feel alone back when she hadn't told anyone. Whatever your opinions, Harvey Milk was a pretty inspiring guy, and what he says applies to any minority or group of people who face obstacles.
As long as it may take us, our society has a way of slowly correcting its wrongs. Gay marriage WILL eventually be legal. Gay couples WILL eventually be able to adopt. And discrimination, let alone blatant hatred, towards LGBT individuals will one day no longer be tolerated in any institution or public setting. That's not to say it will be completely eradicated, since racism and sexism still exist despite great strides, but gays and lesbians and transexuals will be able to be open about who they are without needing to fear an immediate backlash from their family, friends, peers, or coworkers.
It's so tedious. Why do people have to try stand in the way of what's already a reality? The time and energy they waste spreading homophobia and hatred could be so much better spent doing good. I guess it's easy for me to say that when I've been raised to accept homosexuality, but I just can't understand what anyone can have against two people, who love each other just like anyone else does, making a commitment to one another and spending the rest of their lives together. There's just no argument that can hold up against it. It's love, damn it. It may be cliche and lame but that's what it is and saying it's unnatural or evil isn't going to stop it from happening. I'm sick of it, there are literally THOUSANDS of other issues that should be taking up our attention! Can't we just get past who has sex with who and just move on to the bigger picture?
Anyway, this is a video a friend of mine showed me. She's gay, and I think this really helped her not to feel alone back when she hadn't told anyone. Whatever your opinions, Harvey Milk was a pretty inspiring guy, and what he says applies to any minority or group of people who face obstacles.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Time to go back.
I've been away almost 4 months. That's unbelievable to me. When I look back I feel like it flashed by, even though I know those first few weeks were hard and dragged at times. Tomorrow, after 7 hours of plane travel, I'll be back again. Just like that.
I donno, it just seems so strange to me. I'm excited out of my mind, but I'm going to miss it here so much. Sometimes it seems like a month back home won't be enough, other times I worry that I'll be going crazy by the end. I guess that's fairly good happy medium.
Anyway, tomorrow's going to be a long day. It'll be good to be home, and see my family and friends. In fact, the more I think about, the more I worry I won't be able to sleep tonight.
This video's hilarious, so I'll leave you with that.
I donno, it just seems so strange to me. I'm excited out of my mind, but I'm going to miss it here so much. Sometimes it seems like a month back home won't be enough, other times I worry that I'll be going crazy by the end. I guess that's fairly good happy medium.
Anyway, tomorrow's going to be a long day. It'll be good to be home, and see my family and friends. In fact, the more I think about, the more I worry I won't be able to sleep tonight.
This video's hilarious, so I'll leave you with that.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Back for more
Alright, let's have another go at this. And not just because I should be studying for the final I have in less than 12 hours. Of course not.
Break is quickly approaching, meaning there will be a lot more time to keep up with a blog. Also, I'm hoping to apply for Nicholas D. Kristof's annual "Win-A-Trip" essay contest. Kristof is a humanitarian and New York Times columnist who sponsors this contest each year for aspiring-journalists currently in college. The winner travels with him to Africa, where they are essentially given a crash course on reporting on social issues in the developing world. It's an amazing experience, and I've wanted to apply ever since my brother first told me about it. Kristof has an incredible career; traveling the world and reporting on the inspiring and heartbreaking situations he finds. I doubt that I'll be picked, in fact I know I won't, but now that I'm in college and eligible I'll do it anyway. I don't have much experience to recommend me, but I'll still apply every year. On ne sait jamais!
Speaking of different countries and languages I don't speak, someone recently showed me a list of words that are virtually untranslatable. Some of them are really beautiful, some just funny. These are my favorites:
2. Mamihlapinatapei
17. L’appel du vide
French – “The call of the void” is this French expression’s literal translation, but more significantly it’s used to describe the instinctive urge to jump from high places.
18. Ya’aburnee
Arabic – Both morbid and beautiful at once, this incantatory word means “You bury me,” a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.
Break is quickly approaching, meaning there will be a lot more time to keep up with a blog. Also, I'm hoping to apply for Nicholas D. Kristof's annual "Win-A-Trip" essay contest. Kristof is a humanitarian and New York Times columnist who sponsors this contest each year for aspiring-journalists currently in college. The winner travels with him to Africa, where they are essentially given a crash course on reporting on social issues in the developing world. It's an amazing experience, and I've wanted to apply ever since my brother first told me about it. Kristof has an incredible career; traveling the world and reporting on the inspiring and heartbreaking situations he finds. I doubt that I'll be picked, in fact I know I won't, but now that I'm in college and eligible I'll do it anyway. I don't have much experience to recommend me, but I'll still apply every year. On ne sait jamais!
Speaking of different countries and languages I don't speak, someone recently showed me a list of words that are virtually untranslatable. Some of them are really beautiful, some just funny. These are my favorites:
2. Mamihlapinatapei
Yagan (indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego) – “the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start”
7. Tartle
Scottish – The act of hestitating while introducing someone because you’ve forgotten their name. 7. Tartle
17. L’appel du vide
French – “The call of the void” is this French expression’s literal translation, but more significantly it’s used to describe the instinctive urge to jump from high places.
18. Ya’aburnee
Arabic – Both morbid and beautiful at once, this incantatory word means “You bury me,” a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.
I love language. I really wish I was gifted with learning others, but I'll have to content myself with just enjoying English and little bits and pieces of others for the time being.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Keep Snitchin'
Ok, ok. I was neglectful for a few days, but in my defense I had a midterm and a Poli Sci quiz on my plate, not to mention my best friend coming to visit tomorrow to prepare for. You'll notice I underlined that last bit. This is pretty big. I haven't seen her, or any of my family and friends from home, for over 3 months. So I'm pretty stoked. Hella stoked, if you'll forgive the NorCal expression (no hard feelings if you don't, I won't be forgiving myself either).
I'm also quite excited because this coming weekend marks our very first quidditch game EVER, against our arch-rival university. We just got our team jerseys yesterday, and we look spectacular. You may be asking yourself, "Whoa. How are you so cool that you are actually on a legitimate college quidditch team?" or perhaps, if you are a cultural-outsider (just kidding, sort of) "Wait, what the hell is quidditch?". Well my muggle friends, I am in fact a member of my university's official quidditch team, and quidditch is in fact one of the fastest growing sports on college campuses throughout the country right now. It's not limited to the U.S. though, check out the International Quidditch Association website, it's global! For anyone who is unfortunate enough to not know what quidditch is, it is an extremely entertaining sport played by the characters in The Harry Potter series. We play by roughly the same rules, the only real difference being the whole flying thing, which we're working on. We run around a field with broomsticks between our legs, trying to throw a quaffle (deflated soccer ball) past a keeper and through one of three goals (hula-hoops on poles) at either end of the pitch. The beaters (my position) run around throwing bludgers (small dodge-balls) at the people trying to score, forcing them to drop the quaffle and run back to their respective side. There are also seekers hunting around elsewhere for the snitch (runner dressed in yellow with a sock attached to his waistband) while all this is going on. The game ends when the snitch is caught, and the team with the most points wins!
If it sounds complicated, it is. If it doesn't sound complicated, trust me, it is. It's also one of the funniest things you could ever possibly witness, due to the broom aspect mainly. We always have a large audience at our practices, and they almost always end up cheering wildly as the seekers inevitably close-in on the snitch. That may be due in part to the sheer epic-ness of the snitch battle, which lasts for quite sometime and can involve the snitch hiding in bushes and climbing trees or buildings to evade the seekers. Needless to say, it's just one more reason why I absolutely adore this place. My friends and I ran a Harry Potter club in high school, and we played our own version of quidditch a few times. My friend in Boston is actually on the team at her school, and will be going with them to the WORLD CUP in New York City this weekend. Oh yes, there is a world cup.
I'm unbelievably jealous, but we'll be having plenty of fun at our own event this Sunday. Butterbeer, costume contest, movie give-aways, and quidditch....
Sounds like a Potter geek's wet dream. Keep snitchin' my friends.
I'm also quite excited because this coming weekend marks our very first quidditch game EVER, against our arch-rival university. We just got our team jerseys yesterday, and we look spectacular. You may be asking yourself, "Whoa. How are you so cool that you are actually on a legitimate college quidditch team?" or perhaps, if you are a cultural-outsider (just kidding, sort of) "Wait, what the hell is quidditch?". Well my muggle friends, I am in fact a member of my university's official quidditch team, and quidditch is in fact one of the fastest growing sports on college campuses throughout the country right now. It's not limited to the U.S. though, check out the International Quidditch Association website, it's global! For anyone who is unfortunate enough to not know what quidditch is, it is an extremely entertaining sport played by the characters in The Harry Potter series. We play by roughly the same rules, the only real difference being the whole flying thing, which we're working on. We run around a field with broomsticks between our legs, trying to throw a quaffle (deflated soccer ball) past a keeper and through one of three goals (hula-hoops on poles) at either end of the pitch. The beaters (my position) run around throwing bludgers (small dodge-balls) at the people trying to score, forcing them to drop the quaffle and run back to their respective side. There are also seekers hunting around elsewhere for the snitch (runner dressed in yellow with a sock attached to his waistband) while all this is going on. The game ends when the snitch is caught, and the team with the most points wins!
If it sounds complicated, it is. If it doesn't sound complicated, trust me, it is. It's also one of the funniest things you could ever possibly witness, due to the broom aspect mainly. We always have a large audience at our practices, and they almost always end up cheering wildly as the seekers inevitably close-in on the snitch. That may be due in part to the sheer epic-ness of the snitch battle, which lasts for quite sometime and can involve the snitch hiding in bushes and climbing trees or buildings to evade the seekers. Needless to say, it's just one more reason why I absolutely adore this place. My friends and I ran a Harry Potter club in high school, and we played our own version of quidditch a few times. My friend in Boston is actually on the team at her school, and will be going with them to the WORLD CUP in New York City this weekend. Oh yes, there is a world cup.
I'm unbelievably jealous, but we'll be having plenty of fun at our own event this Sunday. Butterbeer, costume contest, movie give-aways, and quidditch....
Sounds like a Potter geek's wet dream. Keep snitchin' my friends.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Isn't it weird?
It's strange how natural it feels to be living so far from home. It doesn't feel weird at all. The transition was so easy. Sure, the first two weeks or so were somewhat tough, and I may get a little homesick from time to time, but it makes me feel proud for some reason that everything has worked out so well.
For months, from the time I was accepted here all through the summer, it never hit me just how far away I was going to school. People would say it all the time whenever I told them where I was going, but it never really registered. Every time my Grandmother called, literally up until I left, she'd ask again if I was "really going all the way out there?", "but aren't there plenty of good schools around here?", as if I still hadn't sent in the deposit in late April. Sometime in the week before I left, I was suddenly hit with this giant sense of dread. I've lived in the same house, in the same town since I was born. Why was I going so far away from everyone I love, making my parents spend so much just so that I can go somewhere "cool"? Sure it's a great school, but do I even belong there? Had I just been trying to prove something? I started to get the feeling that people were thinking that. Neighbors and relatives didn't seem to believe that I understood what I was getting into, the "culture shock" they seemed to think I was in for. I'm probably exaggerating, but then that's the paranoia I was feeling just before I left. Saying goodbye to my brother and sister, now that was a reaction I didn't expect. I cried so much, but not just because I knew I wouldn't be seeing them again for almost 4 months. "Don't be scared", my sister told me. I guess she could tell. I guess I'm not as great an actor as I'd like to believe sometimes. Seeing my parents walk away the night I said goodbye to them, my Dad actually crying, now that freaked me out. My mom even reminded me that I could always transfer, and that actually comforted me. I'll be honest, I spent a few nights muffling the sobs, hoping my roommates wouldn't hear.
Admitting that actually makes it seem like my transition wasn't all that smooth. But before I knew it, that had passed. Everything fell into place; school, friends, a sense of comfort and belonging. I love it here. I'm completely confident that this was the perfect choice after all. The people I've met, the things I've been doing, it's like a dream come true. And I don't give a shit that that was cliche. I still miss things, especially at this time of year. Random smells, sounds, conversations, and people constantly remind me of my friends and family and home. I can't wait to be back with all of them, but I already feel like I have a family and a home her, too. It's a great feeling to find that all of your misgivings were wrong. Suddenly, four years doesn't seem like enough time here. Maybe I just got lucky on a gamble, but it makes me a lot more confident about any other big changes I'll be facing in the future.
Bear with me, s'il vous plait.
Right now I'm going through French withdrawal. After four years of high school French class everyday, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but I never expected to miss it. I thought that I might take up another language now, something more exotic and unusual, and perhaps I still will, but as of now it looks like I'll be having a one-hour French class every day of the spring semester, which just ruins my hopes of having Fridays free. Hrmph.
My sister's glad. She's a French teacher, but she's currently living abroad for the year to teach English in France. I want so badly to visit her at some point, especially since I've never been there, but it seems unlikely as of now. It's hard enough even to set up times to talk with her, given the 9 hour time difference.
I think part of my withdrawal stems from being away from my friends more than studying the language. We love to watch French movies, listen to French music, eat crepes, and swoon over French actors. Gaspard Ulliel is tres, tres mignon. I can't believe I haven't watch Amelie or Un Long Dimanche de Fiançailles since I left home. I was craving French film so much today that I watched one rather than doing my homework (big surprise); La Belle Personne.
It's about a shy, 16 year-old girl who recently lost her mother and switched to a new school, where just about every male classmate (and one very sexy male teacher) falls in love with her. It was pretty good: very good acting, interesting story, depressing though, but then that's common with most French movies, I find.
Anyway, this has been a pretty dull post. I do have more interesting things to talk about, I promise. Right now I'm just trying to focus on writing everyday. Trying to make a habit out of it, I guess.
My sister's glad. She's a French teacher, but she's currently living abroad for the year to teach English in France. I want so badly to visit her at some point, especially since I've never been there, but it seems unlikely as of now. It's hard enough even to set up times to talk with her, given the 9 hour time difference.
I think part of my withdrawal stems from being away from my friends more than studying the language. We love to watch French movies, listen to French music, eat crepes, and swoon over French actors. Gaspard Ulliel is tres, tres mignon. I can't believe I haven't watch Amelie or Un Long Dimanche de Fiançailles since I left home. I was craving French film so much today that I watched one rather than doing my homework (big surprise); La Belle Personne.
It's about a shy, 16 year-old girl who recently lost her mother and switched to a new school, where just about every male classmate (and one very sexy male teacher) falls in love with her. It was pretty good: very good acting, interesting story, depressing though, but then that's common with most French movies, I find.
Anyway, this has been a pretty dull post. I do have more interesting things to talk about, I promise. Right now I'm just trying to focus on writing everyday. Trying to make a habit out of it, I guess.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Yikes...
I've been wanting to start this for some time now, and a sleepless night like tonight seemed like as good a time as any. Hopefully I won't disappoint myself too much with the lack of wittiness I produce. I think, at least for now, this is really just for my benefit anyway. Living so far away from home has been an adjustment, but not to the extent I thought it would, so I'm not promising anything fascinating or, like I said, witty. Just do me a favor, and go ahead and lower your expectations.
While I've never had success with journals, it would be nice to have a sort of safe place to store my thoughts. Just realized the irony of that statement, given that the internet is by no means a "safe place" to store personal information. Oh well.
I definitely don't need another outlet for procrastination right now either, but this has to be a better waste of my time than facebook, right?
I look forward to exploring the graphic possibilities on this thing, as well as to developing the literary "voice" that I never felt like I mastered in any of my previous writing experience.
While I've never had success with journals, it would be nice to have a sort of safe place to store my thoughts. Just realized the irony of that statement, given that the internet is by no means a "safe place" to store personal information. Oh well.
I definitely don't need another outlet for procrastination right now either, but this has to be a better waste of my time than facebook, right?
I look forward to exploring the graphic possibilities on this thing, as well as to developing the literary "voice" that I never felt like I mastered in any of my previous writing experience.
In conclusion, I'll leave you(or rather me) with a cartoon a friend of mine found the other day, which perfectly sums up my nightly experience with the dining hall dessert tray...
I find it thoroughly amusing. God I hate raisins though.
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