Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Love Your Neighbor Day

I may have made that one up. Or maybe it really exists and is just on a different day. But it seems like the right message to send out at this juncture, so, love your neighbor today.
    Due to time constraints and feeling too tired to write much, I'm going to be a bit lazy this time, not writing a full post, but don't let that take away from the message here, dear readers. (I at least took the time to track down some good media for this post, if that can be permitted to assuage some my guilt at said laziness.)
   Stop being angry. Stop being vengeful. Stop being cynical. Stop being critical. Stop being resentful. Stop doing everything that hurts someone, especially if that someone is you. If everyone put a little more love out there, maybe the world wouldn't need saving all the time.
    We can't prevent these emotions all day, every day, but for a few minutes, let it all go. Need some inspiration?
    Just push play.

Dionne Warwick-What the World Needs Now

The Beatles-All You Need is Love

Love is all you need.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

No Regrets

Most things seem to happen for no apparent reason at all. But some things work out perfectly every once in a while, as if by design. People who have regrets don't believe this. People who have regrets are also people who blame someone else for what happened to them.
    It may be childish or fantastical, but I think it's nice to think that some things happen for a reason, even if they don't work out the way you originally had in mind. We're only human and sometimes our design isn't fully thought out or doesn't take certain things into account. But the universe, whether you want to call it that, or God, or destiny, can see things from every angle and see the game 20 moves ahead. For this reason, the universe can arrange things to play out perfectly from time to time. Sometimes, it takes us some time to realize that it was for the best that things happened in such a way.
    Pessimists and regretful people have a tendency not to see things as having worked out for the best. Maybe it's self-importance, wanting things to go their way or the highway, or maybe it's just closed-mindedness, that if things didn't go a certain way, they went the wrong way. It's unfortunate, because if you only look at the world from that perspective, you end up missing out on some of the beautiful and amazing, if unexpected, things that happen.
    I find regrets to be a waste of time. Regrets mean that you focus on something that happened in the past, and if that is still eating away at you, weeks or months or years later, part of you is being wasted and consumed by something that shouldn't matter anymore. It only still has bearing on your life because you allow it to. While my life has certainly not gone according to any plans I made at any point--eight years ago, I was going to move to New York when I was 18 and be a writer, and that didn't happen--I can't say that I regret anything that's happened to me or that I've done.
    Other people, were they in my shoes, might regret some of the things in my life. I spent three and a half years on a degree that didn't help me get a job very easily. But I did get a job. A great job that I really enjoy. It has absolutely nothing to with my degree, but I never expected to go into philosophy after all. I expected to have a bachelor's degree, some more knowledge than I started with, and to be a more well-rounded person, and that's all true. So how can I possibly regret something that put me in a good place in my life, even if it took a little longer than expected? Answer: I don't.
    There are plenty of other things that could have thrown me off track and made me regret that they happened or changed me in a way I didn't want to be changed. But even all the bad things that have happened, all the things that went wrong thus far in my young life, put me where I am today and prepared me for other things I would face. They made me stronger, and for that, I can't really regret those things either. Even if they sucked when they happened, I can't really blame anyone for what happened, even if a person was the catalyst that caused that particular event to happen. Blame is a by-product of regret, and if you don't regret anything, you can't blame anyone for where you are today or what has happened to you up until now.
    As they say, you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs, and sometimes the things that don't go according to plan are the eggs that the universe breaks to help you make your omelet. (That came out so much cheesier than I meant it to, but oh well.) Next time something goes wrong, give it a chance to work itself out before automatically writing it off as the universe being out to screw you over again. That seemingly unfortunate, unexpected event may lead to something great.
Sing in the rain.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

I Feel Way Too Old

Not only have I got a birthday coming up, dear readers, but I find myself complaining and scolding America's youth like someone 40 or 50 years my senior. These young kids these days, I tell you. Grading homework last night was positively brutal. Not only was I so exhausted I felt like my brain was disintegrating inside my skull, but I was doing an extremely mind-numbing and loathsome task that is fast disintegrating my hope for the future.
    These punk-ass kids, as my wonderfully witty and entertaining capstone seminar professor so aptly named them (or us, at the time), are doing absolutely nothing but wasting both their time in college and mine. If you're not going to actually try to do the homework, even to the point of mediocrity, why bother turning it in? Consistently getting 2s and 4s out of 10 points on homework is not going to help your grade that much. And the seriously abysmal ones always take so much longer to grade because I either: a) can't read their handwriting, b) can't figure out how they could have possibly gone so wrong, or c) can't find enough margin space to write everything that's wrong with their answer.
    It hit me last night, as my poor little brain was hanging on by a thread to both sanity and wakefulness, that these students are not just a bunch of punk-ass kids--they are the biggest group of underachievers I have ever encountered. I'm an achiever myself. So underachievers are, by definition, unacceptable and often useless human beings that are just sucking up too much oxygen and failing to recycle too many valuable resources.
    OK, that may be a bit harsh. But I do worry. Seeing so many underachievers--even in a class that may not be that enjoyable or useful to them--in one small corner of my microcosm worries me. This is the future of America's youth? I may as well move to Canada and be done with it. Why would you bother doing anything if you're not going to at least try to do well in it? Maybe you'll fail. But putting forth so little effort and still expecting to see results from it seems absurd.
    I don't know if the reason for this is laziness, lack of motivation, or just this mentality that if it's not easy, it's not worth it. I don't particularly care for this class that much either, but I'm still putting forth a substantial amount of time and energy to do well in it. I'm not doing an outstanding job, and I probably should be putting at least another hour or two's worth of time into it each week to be excelling in it, but I am doing the work. I am trying.
    Maybe I'm just venting because I was so inhumanly depleted of energy last night, and seeing what poor effort was put forth by these kids was so incredibly discouraging. But still, it has always baffled me that some people can be so blasé about things. Even if it's a class you hate, it's still part of your education, and if you value your education at all, it seems that you would have to put in a certain amount of work if you want to at least pass the class.
    I really hope these kids try to do something useful with their lives besides playing beer pong and video games for the next ten years out of their parents' basements. The world is in poor enough shape as it is without a bunch of underachievers bringing up the ranks of the new generation.
You've gotta ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya--punk?
-Harry Callahan in Dirty Harry

Monday, March 21, 2011

Feeling Carnivorous?

I think it's spring's fault. My 70-30 vegetarian diet went by the wayside all last week and part of this week already. Part of that is because over spring break, I worked full days and went out to lunch with the guys I work with, and inevitably had to order something meaty: pork, beef, chicken--I had some of everything. So today, in a small effort to try to make up for it, I ate nothing but what I like to call rabbit food for dinner--2 servings of salad and a vegetarian burrito.
    If you could have seen me 10 years ago, your jaw would have dropped in shock to see me eating salad, probably a burrito too. I was picky to the extreme when I was younger. I couldn't even eat the chunks of tomato in my spaghetti sauce, and now there are RAW tomatoes in my vegetarian burrito? WTF.
    Vegetarian wasn't even in my vocabulary back then, and I hated 90% of vegetables in any form up until about 5 years ago. Tomatoes went in ketchup and spaghetti/pizza sauce, nowhere else--not on my burger, not on my sandwich. Plain cheeseburger was my typical order at a burger restaurant. And at Subway, I'd order the meat, cheese, and bread, and maybe mayonnaise, but not a single vegetable at the end of the sandwich line. Lettuce tastes like paper, I thought (and still think so of iceberg lettuce). Potatoes were bland and inedible unless they came deep fried and in French fry form. And don't even get me started on broccoli.
    I ate like a five year old until I was in my late teens, mainly because I was allowed to, but also because I hadn't learned to like things that were good for me, and wasn't willing to try them. But now, I'll try most anything once. I regularly eat raw spinach, romaine lettuce, potatoes in any form (except instant), and even carrots. I still have a hard time with the broccoli, but considering the only real vegetables I used to eat were string beans and corn, I think this is a massive improvement.
    The origin of the 70-30 vegetarian diet happens to be because of my boyfriend. He used to eat steak, hamburgers, sushi, and other animal products like they were going out of style, but once he went vegetarian, I had to convert--at least a little bit. My self esteem would not allow me to continue to feel unhealthy and inferior every time I ordered a steak when he ordered a plate of spaghetti without meat sauce or meatballs. I got used to it. I even like some of the veggies. But every now and again, I have to have the pork tenderloin, the clam chowder, the gigantic mushroom burger with five pounds of cheese on it. And I'm okay with that.
    I refuse to go 100% vegetarian, however. Not only because I want that skewer of shrimp or barbecue ribs that just went by, but because the crap they try to give you to make up for not eating meat is just that: crap. Tofu is gelatinous. Boca burgers are edible, but incomparable to the real thing. And seitan--no way in hell. (Just ate some of that for the first time today: pork flavored rubber that chews like gristle. So, yeah, I'll pass.)
    So, while vegetarianism may be better for the environment, and more immediately, better for my cholesterol and my overall health, I'll do my best, but I can't commit to it. Vegetables are acceptable--some of them, anyway--but all meat substitutes should just stop trying.
You can have my burger when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Rejection Can Be Good

    Rejection is hard--at first. You feel like you've been punched in the stomach, and the wind's been knocked out of you. Whether you submitted a story to a magazine and got a curt, succinct rejection letter, or asked someone new out on a date and they said they "aren't dating right now", or simply gave your poem to a friend to read and they hated it, I know that rejection is no fun. But it can be helpful. Maybe your story could use some more work. Maybe the person you asked out just got out of a bad relationship. And maybe your friend needs to learn how to give constructive criticism. That, or your poem really is bad.
    Learning to deal with rejection takes time, and it takes a lot of behavior modification. You have to learn that rejection isn't always personal. Sometimes it's just business. Other times, you can never know the whole story of what's going on in someone else's life to know whether their reasons for rejecting you are because of something having to do with them or something having to do with you.
    Dealing with rejection means you have to steel yourself, prepare for it. You have a 50-50 chance your story will be rejected; you have a 50-50 chance of getting the date, or not; and you have a 50-50 chance your friend will hate the poem. You have to recognize the situations in which you may possibly experience rejection as an outcome, and then prepare for it. Maybe it will turn out fine in the end, but knowing it may not, and preparing yourself for that, helps in coping with the rejection and not taking it personally (even if it is actually personal). 
    So, how is rejection good? It hurts. Steeled or not, it still hurts. It still shocks. It still sucks. But--you can learn from it. For anything that happens, if you can learn from it, then it wasn't completely pointless; it wasn't a complete waste of time; it wasn't all for nothing. What you may learn from that rejection will depend on the situation. You may learn you're a terrible poet, and you'll have to accept that. You could learn that you shouldn't ask people out who are of that personality type, no matter how much you like them.
    You could learn any number of things, but in order to do so, you cannot mope. You can't bitch and complain that nothing ever goes right. You can't beat yourself up about it. I've said it before, dear readers, and I'll say it again: shit happens. Rejection is just one of those shit things that happens sometimes.
    But if you never put yourself out there, if you never take some risks--you don't have to invest your life savings in the stock market or skydive out of an airplane at 20,000 feet to take risks--you'll never experience the rewards that do occasionally follow. Your story may get published. The person will say yes to dinner. Your friend thinks your poem is reminiscent of an early Robert Frost. Whatever the case may be, risks are a part of life, a part of humanity. Greatness was never achieved by playing it safe.
"Sometimes, you just have to say, 'What the fuck.' " (Joel-Risky Business)

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

"I'll Have What She's Having."

    Why do we want we can't have? You order the grilled salmon at the restaurant, but once your friend gets his 12 ounce sirloin steak, you wish you'd ordered the steak. You bought the 32" TV in good spirits, but when your neighbor buys the 48" television, you kick yourself for not spending the extra money on a bigger set. You love your dog, but you can't help wanting to get another one, a puppy that will be oh-so-cute for a few months, just because he's new and different. I think we're getting close to the heart of it here: novelty. [Note: Title of this post taken from a line from When Harry Met Sally. Haven't seen it? You should.]
    Novelty is the reason so many people have so much stuff and spend so much money and want even more. Well, I know that I already have the new I-Pod, but they just put out another newer one, with a touchscreen, and 50 GB with video last week. It only costs $500. I just bought new shoes yesterday, but that girl over there has these awesome-looking pumps that I think I have to have for... $200.
    We like new stuff--that's not news. But is it because it's new, or is it actually an improvement on what we now have? In some cases, we do need an update on something. The stereo only brings in the radio if you stand really close to it? It might be time for a new one. Or at least a new antenna. The jeans you're wearing have holes in them and so many patches you can't even tell where the original fabric is? You may want to invest in a new pair.
    However, it's not these cases that are the issue. It's the cases where you have something that's perfectly good, works fine, serves its purpose, you still enjoy using/wearing it, but the new one just came out, or a cooler looking one just came out, and even though it's way out of your budget, and completely unreasonable to spend that kind of money on it, something inside you tells you that you want it--not only want it, but have to have it. You may even feel like you can't live without it--it's just so much more convenient and user-friendly and better than what you have now.
    I'm guilty of this "grass is greener" mentality as much as the next person. I constantly want what the person next to me ordered, to the point that I mooch off their plate all night. I have bought clothes that I didn't absolutely need for the reason that they were trendier or prettier-looking than something I already had. It's always a frustrating boat to be in, not having something you want, or worse, not being able to afford something you really want. I know how lucky I am to be where I am in this world and have what I have. Some of it I've earned, some of it I've received due to the generosity of others, or with the help of others, but I am grateful for what I have. It's just that sometimes, I do want the new shoes, or that incredible-looking steak on my dinner companion's plate.
    Perhaps it's biology, or evolution, to want what we can't have. It keeps us working hard, doing more, trying to have more, trying to make ourselves cooler, sexier, more attractive, interesting, intelligent--even if it's only in appearance, and not in actuality. [Digression: Appearance actually seems to play quite a large role in evolution and adaptation from what I understand--though I'm no scientist.]
    While the reason for wanting what we can't have may remain a mystery, with only speculation available as some kind of answer to it, at the very least, if we can recognize that we want something for its novelty rather than its necessity, perhaps we can scale that impulse back a little bit. Learn to do without. It probably won't happen, but awareness is the first step on the path to change.
You can't always get what you want. [The Rolling Stones]

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Waiting for Number Three

    When it rains, it pours. When it comes to little superstitions, I'm pretty much a sucker, despite my philosophical and extremely logical background. I won't pick up a penny that's upside down. I occasionally play the numbers from my fortune cookie in the Powerball drawing. And I do think that bad things seem to happen in threes. If not fours, fives, sixes, etc.
    Japan happened Friday morning (US time, anyway). I woke up to destruction and obliteration, essentially, on the Weather Channel, seeing cars and buildings completely destroyed and swept away by the tsunami. It really did look like the beginning of the end. While I really hope that it isn't, not yet, it certainly looked that way in the morning news, and indeed, all day.
    I spent a couple hours this evening with CNN, and got even more in-depth coverage of the horror and devastation that continues as the aftermath ensues. The nuclear plant situation was the most terrifying thing. And this is the carnage that I see on the American news--thousands of miles away; I can't even fathom the kind of images and bad news being reported to so many people who are going through and trying to recover from this disaster. (Visit the Red Cross to learn how you can help.)

Bad Thing Number One: Japan's earthquake and subsequent tsunamis.
Bad Thing Number Two: deathbeds. 

    While I won't get into the details of number two, as it's especially personal and painful to discuss, I'll just say that when the inevitable and imminent conclusion of this event obtains, for me, it will certainly rank as bad thing number two in my book, even if it only affects my little microcosm.
    As to bad thing number three, I can't say. It hasn't been revealed yet, as far as I can tell. But I have no doubt it will come to pass eventually. Sooner rather than later.
    So, if I didn't bring you down too much today and you're still reading this far, I'll give you a joke. And while it is a somewhat dirty joke, hopefully it won't seem disrespectful as a follow-up to the above content. Just trying to lighten things up, just a tiny bit.

A beautiful, long-legged blond woman walks into a bar. 
She sits down at the bar, and asks the bartender for a Double Entendre. 
So he gives it her. 

And that's it for me! You've been great! I'm outta here!

Wednesday, March 9, 2011


    One of the most frustrating encounters you can have with another human being is one in which they will listen to what you say, but still not take you seriously. "Not take you seriously" can mean many things: maybe they still think you're wrong; they think you have no idea what you're talking about; they are picking apart what you're saying and condescending you in their heads as you speak; they insist they know more, are right, or are better than you in one way or another.
    Not being taken seriously is humiliating. Not in the same way as discovering you're standing in a crowded room wearing only your underpants is humiliating, but humiliating in the sense that you are made to feel like your opinion doesn't matter, you don't know what you're talking about, you're little and your interlocutor is big, and worst of all--there's nothing you can do about it.
    Most people do not being the person who's condescended or not taken seriously, and yet we/they continue to condescend and not take seriously people on a regular basis. While some people do know better--your tax man knows whether you can deduct those peep-toe pumps as "work-related attire" or not--they sometimes forget that they are just as fallible as everyone else is. I know a lot about Microsoft Word, but I don't know every little minute detail. I learned something new just a couple weeks ago. I wouldn't say I'm an expert, I'm just quite familiar with it such that I could probably teach the basics to someone new to the program.
    Another example: Bank tellers are good at math, theoretically. They count and subtract and crunch numbers on their computers and calculators for people all day. But (we're getting to the crux of the episode, dear readers), mistaking WITHDRAWAL for DEPOSIT as a bank teller is a pretty big difference--perhaps a crucial difference in some cases. You say, for example: I would like to deposit $50 from this check into Account A, and cash the other $50 from the check. They agree, take your account number, and if all goes to plan, subtract that amount from the check and deposit that into the account, giving you the remainder of the check's value back in cash.
    Now, when the teller hands you $150 cash back, you may wonder, why am I getting 3 times as much as I asked for? And 50% more than my check was for? The teller must have made a mistake, you think. The teller must have heard withdraw when you said deposit. That's acceptable. People make mistakes. But when you say after this occurs: Excuse me, but I wanted to deposit $50 from my check, not cash it all and withdraw an additional $50 from my account, and the teller still insists they know better--"Oh, that's just the difference between them"--, that's not OK. $100 less in your account may be a pretty dramatic difference for some people.
    While the above scenario is a fictionalization of yesterday's excursion to the bank, I think it makes an important point. Make mistakes, learn from them, try not to do them again, but please--pretty please--don't make a mistake and not admit to it. Your mistake is costing me an extra 20 to 30 minutes of my time, and an extra couple bucks of extremely unaffordable gas in my car to come back to the bank to correct the mistake that you refused to correct when I was already there and caught it. It's not like I was belligerent about the error. I simply knew that something had gone awry and wanted to correct it so I would not have to make another trip. Perhaps I should have been more insistent that I shouldn't have had as much cash back as was given, and that might have saved me another trip--but my Tuesdays are rough, and by four in the afternoon, my brain is not in any shape to try to contradict people or argue with them articulately, even if my brain is still functional enough to register that something did go wrong in this particular transaction.
    Mistakes are tricky. We don't like to be put down for them, at least not too harshly. But when we make them, most people, or perhaps just people like me, like to know what they are so we can make sure they don't happen again. In any case, when I return to the bank, it'll be to another branch where hopefully the tellers are slightly more competent.
The "Fool me once" proverb does not apply here.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Spring, Sprang, Sprung

    I think I always liked spring better than fall. For one reason, school gets out in spring; while in fall, it's just beginning a whole new year. I like to see the flowers coming up--the irises were already pushing up a couple weeks ago in February here. A few trees around campus are getting leaves. I can't say I dislike spring more than fall for allergies, because I always seem to get them in both seasons. Spring is when I get to start bringing out my cute sandals and shoes, when I don't have to wear three layers of clothing anymore to survive the weather, and, I have a spring birthday.
    It seems that so many nice things happen in spring for me. The only thing about spring that isn't so nice happens at school. Yes, it does mean that school's almost out for three months, but it also means it's time to knuckle down. For some reason, the end of spring semester at school (in college, anyway) always seems to be much more exhausting and frustrating than the end of fall semester.

Crappy cell phone picture from two years ago :)
    It's possible that Spring Break causes this. Teachers have several weeks after break and before finals, so they have plenty of time to assign papers, projects, and excessively time-consuming assignments in this half of the semester. In the fall, Thanksgiving break (or fall break--as they seem to think is a more PC term...) occurs only about 2 weeks before finals. So teachers don't have the time (and, I might add, aren't permitted to) assign any large assignments or tests during the week prior to finals. In any case, the end of spring semester (subsequent to the break) always seems to cause more stress and cramming than any other time of the semester, even midterms and finals.
    I'm really hoping that this spring will be different. However, I have no syllabus for any of my classes that has concrete dates on it for anything except the final. I have no idea when my papers will be assigned, when my tests will be, or worst of all, whether they will all be due at the same time. Teachers must all run on the same wavelength when it comes to due dates, because they always want to assign something to be due at the exact same time as in other classes, or at least within a few days of each other, having no consideration or concern for the fact that, as much as they'd like to think otherwise, students do have other classes they're taking, and--gasp!--those other classes might be more important than their own class.
    There is a kind of hubris that I think you develop if you become a teacher. You find your subject incredibly interesting and relevant, so everyone else ought to, too. This is a mistake. In a class of 30 or 40 students, maybe 5 will enjoy it and appreciate it. It's probably less if it's a particularly unpleasant class like biochemistry or advanced calculus. While it may be a helpful subject or a required subject for some students, there are very few who will actually like it and commit any of it to long-term memory deliberately.
    Upon reflection, it looks like I've only taken 5 classes, out of 37 in my undergrad, that I actually liked. Now, this is classes only--I've had plenty of teachers that I liked. Most of the teachers I had, in fact, were good teachers. There was only maybe 1 each semester that wasn't. But considering I spent three and a half years in college for my BA, and I only liked a total of 5 classes that I took--that's only 1 semester's worth of classes, by the way--it seems like I mostly wasted a lot of time and money studying things that I didn't care for. While I may have learned a few things on the way, and met a few really interesting and intelligent people, that still seems like an unusually small percentage of my education spent on topics I enjoyed.
    While I can't say I regret my time as an undergrad, or even the degree I got (though it has done me little practical good so far)--I did enjoy being in school and taking those classes even if many were for the teachers rather than the subject matter--it is deeply troubling to consider the results of a college education. Its near inability to help me find a job, its expense, and the fact that, if I'd had more of a choice in my classes and still have been able to graduate on time, I probably would have taken a much wider variety of classes. I could have spent more time studying things that interested me rather than putting up with classes that I had to take for my major, or core credit.
    I guess the ball is in my college's court: College must redeem itself and give me a good reason to stay. If it doesn't, well, I guess I've some serious soul-searching to do...
    And, I'm sure you've noticed, I managed to digress--again. I edited out some of the even worse digressions before I published this one too. After all this, to return to my original topic, I'm glad it's getting to be spring. I'm hoping that spring fever will hit everyone and they'll be in such good moods, they'll be more flexible about due dates, extensions, and life in general.
Spring forward.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Creation - Destruction

Thought we'd go with a cheerier topic today. Sort of.
    We'll begin with creation. What does it mean to create? We can procreate. We can germinate plants from seeds. We can write, paint, sculpt, and perform many other artistic endeavors. We cook. We design our outfits and our homes. Even a paper airplane is creation. It's taking something ordinary, like a seed, a lump of clay, or a particularly nasty math assignment, and turning it into something beautiful, useful or enjoyable, like a flower, sculpture or paper airplane. Maybe they don't seem that great to everyone, but we can feel that little bubble of joy that surfaces when we do something new and creative. Creation is a necessary component for many of us to continue to function in a non-hostile way towards everyone else. Creation makes us feel special and important, and sometimes, when we have the compulsion to create, creation is one of the only things that can make us feel normal in the face of chaos, frustration, and things beyond our control.
    As human beings, having a sense of control is a priority. It's evolutionary, in a sense. You lose control, you fall off the cliff and die, or get lost in the woods and eaten by the tiger. Having control over ourselves and our surroundings has gotten to the point where we have black-out shades so we can sleep when it's daylight out, and web browsing on our cell phones so we can always know what the temperature is in Phoenix even though we live in Chicago.
    Having control isn't a bad thing. It gives us a sense of stability in a constantly changing world. Control is useful. But creativity is a greater result of being ego-maniacal control freaks. While being a control freak creates order and stability for you--one person--creativity can affect and give enjoyment to many people. Creativity links us to others outside ourselves in a unique way. And creating positive things, for the benefit of others as well as yourself, can only be a good thing.
     And looking at the other side of things, it is perhaps paradoxical that destruction often gives us the same kind of satisfaction that creation does. Stomping through a pile of dead leaves in Fall is immensely gratuitous and self-serving, destroying the crunchy leaves with our shoes, but we do it anyway. Burning a fire, adding more and more wood, destroying the logs, fiber by fiber, is enjoyable not only for warmth or light, but perhaps also for how amazed we all are once we burned through the whole woodpile, and yet all that remains is a small mound of ashes and mostly destroyed, blackened logs.
    While, semantically, it sounds much better to create than destroy, some things maybe should be destroyed. Atomic weapons, for one. In any case, you should always create, unless your creation causes more harm than good. Like Molotov cocktails. Create positively, and create with the same joy and passion that a child builds a fort out of sofa cushions.
Rome wasn't built in a day.

Etsy Addict: A Few of My Favorite Things