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.

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.

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

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.

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)

"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]

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!

Seriously?

    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.

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.

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.

Deus Ex Machina

Anyone with delicate sensibilities regarding the topic of religion, you may want to leave now (*sigh* there goes my bounce rate). I'm about to delve into it, head first, no tiptoeing around anyone's feelings--so if you have any inkling that you can't handle some honest evaluation of this topic, again, it may be best if you return to Insistent and Persistent on another day when there's a different topic posted. No kidding, exercise your self-control if you think you may find yourself offended by any of the following. I will not apologize. And I will not publish any excessively nasty comments, should you feel the need to voice your opinion in a particularly vulgar way.
    Still here? Don't say I didn't warn you.
It occurred to me today that perhaps religion is merely an attitude and not a belief or system of beliefs--at least for some people. What I mean is: some people have the attitude: Jesus--Yay! or God--Boo! This attitude or expression of feeling is different from the system of beliefs which can be outlined as something like: "I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth..." and so on (quoted from the Nicene Creed according to Catholicism-text found through Wikipedia). While an attitude is changeable and dependent, a belief system is inflexible and independent of opinion. You can't say, I believe in God and Jesus, but I don't believe in the Holy Spirit, when you claim to subscribe to a particular belief system. It's all or nothing. An attitude, however, such as feeling positive about God and Jesus, and negative about the Holy Spirit seems perfectly acceptable. (Note: As you've probably remarked, this discussion will revolve exclusively around Christianity, as I believe it is most relevant to a discussion of religion in the US today, and also because I have more experience with it than with other religious paths.)
    The problem I would like to address here is that there are way too many people holding religion as an attitude rather than as a belief system, but still claiming to hold it as an end-all belief. Every system is flawed (systems in general, I mean), and religion is no different. There's always going to be something that you're not one hundred percent comfortable with. But an attitude can change, even from one day to the next. Find twenty bucks on the sidewalk--Yay God! Lose your job--Boo God. Attitudes are fleeting. Holding religion as an attitude is as arbitrary as liking a flavor of ice cream. Monday I like vanilla ice cream. Tuesday I had an upset stomach from the vanilla, so on Tuesday I like chocolate. Many people seem to believe in God, and whatever bits and pieces of the religious system they prefer over others that involve God, as it suits them. They can quote scripture. They can reprimand you for whatever hot topic is the order of the day. They can claim that they know more about the loving arms of Jesus than sinners like you ever will. But so many of them would drop that God-loving attitude like a hot potato if the shit really hit the fan.
    The issue here is not that people shouldn't be religious. The issue is hypocrisy. Religion is a commitment that too many people take too lightly. Kind of like marriage. (But that's another discussion for another day, dear readers.) I have no problem with people who are religious. In fact, I find many of them fascinating (although I find many more of them misguided). I have a certain soft spot for religion, no matter how increasingly implausible it may become for me. So, this isn't an anti-religious finger-pointing session I'm running--rather, I want to examine those people who use religion as an excuse for their actions, as a bolster for their intolerance, and as a simple means of argument for the sake of argument.

    Those kinds of people have no business maintaining religiosity. God is not a pawn in your argument against abortion. Jesus is not a reason to be for or against the death penalty. And neither of them can be used in a discussion of gun control, primarily because guns didn't exist 2000 years ago. We've veered into politics now--dangerous waters, I fear. But, it seems that the two are inextricably tied because people refuse to separate them. Politicians use religion to support their ends, and private citizens use religion to support their politics. In any case, it's wrong because doesn't make their arguments stronger. It weakens them. Your religious life may in fact play a role in which issues you support or reject, but you cannot use religion as the explanation for supporting or rejecting those issues. Using religion to explain your non-religious beliefs is like trying to explain trigonometry with Shakespeare. The two are completely unrelated. As a result, it seems that people who do employ this tactic may either be ignorant of aspects of their religion, or may be one of those people who hold their religion as an attitude, dependent only on its helpfulness at that particular moment.
    I believe I've gone far enough now to provide my conclusion: (1) Be religious if you must, but don't half-ass it--we can't all be saints, but we can't purposely be sinners and claim that we're still saints because we say we're "sorry" for it; (2) Be political if you are so inclined, but keep your religion out of it--certainly there are other nonreligious arguments that can support your opinion that you agree with: use them. I won't say I'm right about all this. But I hope those of you who made it this far will at the very least consider religion and people who claim to be religious and examine these concepts a little more closely for yourselves.

Rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub. Yay God.

Paper or Plastic?

No, it's not Green Week on Insistent and Persistent. Today's topic is finance. 

    I have always been cautious, perhaps excessively so, about my personal finances. I'm old school to the core. I have an instinct that tells me not to trust banks or credit. Part of this has been my fear of getting caught up in buying things on credit and accumulating massive amounts of debt. On the one hand, I've always been extremely responsible with my money. I saved up my money for my first "big kid" bike and bought it myself. I saved my money up for a year to buy a particularly expensive Beanie Baby (this was about ten years ago when Beanie Babies were still something of a trend). I managed to save up to pay for some of my school expenses and my own living expenses (for the first time ever!) this year. But I refuse to get a credit card; I'm terrified of having a checkbook; and I can't even bring myself to take the proverbial cash out from under the mattress.
    As much as I'd like to agree with pretty much everyone I know who says I'm being paranoid and over-protective, something still nags at me. Can we really trust the banks? Of course, due to the society we live in, we kind of have to to some extent. Some places don't even accept cash anymore. *Gasp!* Moreover, can we trust ourselves with that kind of freedom? I, for one, do not. Yet another reason I do not have a credit card. I would be buying almost everything those infomercials try to sell me. I would be a total sucker. If there's a free gift for making so many purchases from infomercials, I would probably get it if I were given a credit card to order off the television with. Despite how responsible and careful I've been my whole life, I am not sure I could resist the temptation that comes with purchasing things on credit. I'd be cautious and pragmatic at first, much like I am now, but eventually, that "gotta have it" bug would creep up and I'd be charging clothes, shoes, purses, infomercial junk, and every electronic item you could shake a stick at--I'm still way behind on the technology, but with a credit card, it'd be a flat screen TV, Blu-ray player, I-Pad, MP3 and probably an overly complicated stereo system that I would never learn how to work.
    Credit can be just as dangerous as it can be life-saving. And for me, I think it would end up being dangerous. With all the credit card debt and irresponsible usage of credit these days, it seems just as possible that I could become one of them. Again, maybe I'm being overly cautious and critical about credit and the financial and economic system of this country in general, but when we look at the state of the economy, and some of the reasons it's taken such a long time to begin recovery, it does seem slightly more rational (or perhaps, more accurately, less irrational).
    As a disclaimer, I have absolutely no financial or economic expertise to lay claim to, excepting my own experiences, which, as I'm sure you've concluded, are quite limited. That being the case, I'll just leave you with this: If the good life were meant to be had through credit, credit would not be causing the kind of havoc it causes to so many people in this country every day.

Cash is still king in my book.

"But I'm Not Wrong"

Everyone always thinks they've got it together more than someone else they know. "That friend of mine is always getting lost"; "Man, I am such a better driver than she is"; "I think I'd go nuts if I was as disorganized as that woman is"; "I could write a better headline than that in my sleep", and so on. Are we just being condescending and self-important? Maybe sometimes. But most of the time: we're not wrong. We do have a good sense of direction, we are organized to the point of being nicknamed OCD, we do have a better sense of what sounds good and what doesn't. It doesn't mean we're great at everything and better than everyone else. We're just right about this. [Note: Headline taken from Bill Maher's stand-up show. We must give credit where credit is due, and sometimes when it's not.]
    Should we tolerate others' faults or should we try to correct them? That's a tricky question. Some people are so set in their ways that it would take a meteor through the middle of their house to get them to change anything. Others might respond to a little gentle constructive criticism. Trying to correct people is something that often comes into play either in a relationship or between teacher and student (and I mean the latter to be in a very broad sense--parent and child, mentor and mentee, elder and younger, etc). While this isn't always a good tactic, often resulting in hurt feelings and insecurities, if it's a serious issue, like fire hazard or risk of life kind of serious, of course it should be addressed. In all other cases, you pick your battles, I suppose.
    Consider: Why do we get so upset when other people aren't as good at something as we are? For me, it's usually because they're interfering with my ability to fulfill my obligations and responsibilities. For example, X's disorganization is causing me problems because she procrastinates, so I can't do what I'm supposed to do until X does her part first. It's frustrating, certainly. We hate being put on hold, getting there on time when everyone else is running late, being ready to do step 5 when everyone else is still working on step 3, or feeling like we have to fix other people's mistakes because we can do it better. It's exhausting feeling like the person who's always on the ball when everyone else seems to be sleepwalking or slacking off.
    While I'd like to say, in the spirit of being neighborly, that we should be a little more forgiving of these people. Sometimes, WE'RE the ones who are running late, or falling behind in our work, or making a mistake that someone else has to fix. But we have excuses, and because we find them more valid than those that others give to us, it's easy to forgive ourselves doing for something wrong.

Is that hypocritical? Probably.

    Still, if we are on the ball 90 percent of the time, compared to other people having it together only 20 percent of the time, it's fair to feel better about yourself for not being like them, those underachievers. Just because we slip up from time to time doesn't make it wrong for us to accuse them of the same thing, because unlike us, they do it all the time.
Nothing enlightening today. Just a little outburst. Even though we do the same thing sometimes, it doesn't make us wrong to point out that the underachiever does it all the time. It's OK to let your ego swell a little bit in cases like this. A boost in ego may prevent you from voicing your frustrations in a less than subtle way. Just don't let Ego take over.

You think I'm harsh? Fine. But I'm not wrong.

[Kuhn-flikt]ing [Kon-flikt]s

Conflict has several meanings. One is when two things disagree, like two people having an argument about something. Another is for them not only to disagree, but to struggle or clash with one another. Often, we use it as an adjective--"to be conflicted about" something.
    Conflict, like anger, grief, or love, is not an easy feeling to experience. Anger, grief and love are directed toward others, but conflict is something that happens within ourselves. Conflict, similarly, is related to ambivalence. As you have a choice of which side of the conflict you want to give in to, you also have a choice between two things you are uncertain about when you are ambivalent. Ambivalence does not mean indifference--but rather, both actions are holding their own and you are uncertain about which is the better course to take. Conflict can lead to the uncertainty of ambivalence, or vice versa.
    Unfortunately, things don't resolve themselves. Sooner or later, we have to pick a side, choose a lane, to move on with our lives. It's never an easy decision, but it always comes to that. Sometimes the conflict fades, and we are left with only the stronger of the options. But more often, or perhaps it only seems that way because it is these instances that stand out more in memory, the conflict builds until it reaches a crescendo or climax, at which point it is impossible to maintain the status quo. When that climax appears, you have to take a step in one direction or the other, or else the whole mess blows up in your face.
    We can be conflicted about tons of things. Should we get a bigger apartment/house? Do I need a new job? Should we have another kid? Should I try tap dance lessons or sculpture classes? What kind of car should I get? Caesar or house salad? Steak or chicken? Some conflicts are smaller, but some are life-altering.

The point, dear readers, is this: 

You can't go through life always wondering which side of the field is greener. 

You have to, at some point, pick a side.
Going back and forth is exhausting, and you can't be in two places at once.

No one wants to live in conflict, and yet, we still don't want to choose one side for fear that it's the wrong one. We like to leave our options open. We like being able  to pick from fifteen brands of jeans and twenty kinds of spaghetti sauce. Options are nice to have. But when they come into conflict, leaving you only two courses of action, options can be more of a burden than a blessing.

The grass may be greener on this side of the field, but that side has the beer.

Multi-tasking Overload

When you feel like you don't have time to sit down, it may be time to slow down. However, multi-tasking can be addictive once you've started. It used to be: "how great it is that I have time to read this book or watch this movie, spend time with my family, cook a real meal for dinner". Now it's constantly telling everyone you don't even have time to eat lunch or go to the grocery store; you can't get to class on time; you can't finish your homework on time; one thing after the other. It's not only that you really do have that many things to do, it's also that you want that many things to do.

What????

    That's right. While you may feel that you have this many obligations, you can't get out of this thing for that reason, it's your fault. It's easy to forget that we made the decision to take all this on. Even though, at the time, it probably seemed manageable. For instance: I can do full-time coursework at grad school; I can work twenty hours a week; I can go to the rec center to exercise 3 or 4 nights a week; I can write my blog 3 or 4 times a week; I can do all my homework on time; I can keep my relationship going; and visit my family, and run errands, and maintain a social life, and stay in touch with old friends, and find time to eat, sleep and keep up some level of personal hygiene. It's exhausting, the things we do in our lives. But once you're busy, it's really hard to not be busy. One thing ends, you take on another.
    Being busy isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's productive. It's the American way. Productivity, efficiency, hard work--these lead to the good life.
    But, I don't see that. These lead to stress. Sometimes overwhelming, even crippling, stress. While I'm not quite that far along yet into the realm of the overwhelmed, every time I miss a deadline, cram something in last minute that's totally sub-par work, or cut short a social engagement or visit because I have to go to class or work or whatever, I feel not only overwhelmed with how full and heavy my plate is at the moment, but I also feel guilty. Guilt may be an unfortunate side effect of my upbringing, too much religiosity, but maybe not. I signed up for the class, shouldn't I do my best to submit my best work, show up on time, do the homework, study the notes for quizzes and tests? I made the decision to take the class, so doesn't that obligate me to follow through on those things? I think it does. And while I want to stay and talk to my friend that I haven't seen or talked to face to face in months, I can't because I have to get to class. Fifteen minutes for lunch is insufficient when it's in a cafeteria style dorm with lines and crowds everywhere you look. Wolfing down food because you have so little time to eat is not healthy.
    Minimizing sleep to get more work, errands, or obligations done is not healthy either, but we do it. We sacrifice sleep for many things. Somehow, this task or that piece of homework is more important than sleep.
    I'm not pointing fingers. I do these too. I cut social visits short. I turn in crappy homework done in ten minutes because I didn't have the time to do it properly. While I can do my best to evenly distribute my time, it never seems to work out quite as well as I planned. So, when you have a choice to eliminate one of your obligations or duties from that growing list of things to maintain and do on a regular basis, maybe you should actually consider eliminating it--and not immediately replacing it with another task or obligation right out of the gate. We need time for ourselves. If we can't find time for ourselves the way our lives are arranged now, we have to make time. If that means dropping an obligation or giving up one of our responsibilities so that we can find more balance and peace in our lives, it may be worth it. Exhaustion, overwork, and poor quality of work as a result of too many things on our to-do list are not good for anyone.

Confucius say: Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart.

Cupid : MIA

Valentine's Day has fallen out of favor. It seems like we were slapped in the face with holidays like Valentine's Day, Easter, St Patrick's Day, and the 4th of July, among the obvious others, since we were five years old. And then, once you get out of high school, they seem to pass under the radar. (Except St. Patty's Day, which is now the American drinking holiday, and no longer has anything to do with Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland.)
    No more paper hearts or streamers hung up everywhere. We don't have to deliver little valentines to our classmates. Even the hype for diamonds, candy, and Hallmark cards seems to be lower now than it used to be.
    Am I in a bubble and this is actually not true? Is Valentine's Day prospering and making more money than ever without my knowledge? It's entirely possible. In my bubble, holidays come and go because I'm not forced to notice them, and don't have time to enjoy them. Even Christmas wasn't as fun this year. While it's nice to take time out and celebrate a holiday, even if it's a corny, made-up one like Valentine's Day, it seems like holidays have become more of a marketing tool than actual times to remember things and celebrate them. Celebrate here means to appreciate them and maybe be thankful for them. Celebrating holidays does not mean getting really drunk, contrary to popular belief. (Except again for St. Patty's day--because we don't live in Ireland, so we're not worried about the snake infestation.)
    My goal here is not to bash the holiday. I don't want to put down Valentine's Day, or Christmas, just because they're overly commercialized. I suppose I'd just like to bring attention to the fact that the diamond and candy industries make enough money as it is.
    So, not to be hypocritical, I'm going to cook for Valentine's Day--dinner. No over-priced cards or chocolate. No out-to-dinner at a fancy place where you need reservations. I think I prefer dinner at home actually, because it's not about getting new earrings or getting that cheesy, sentimental card dipped in glitter with the velvet border. It's about spending itme with someone you love. So, while drinking may be in order, drunkenness is not necessary. Not on this holiday, anyway. Maybe I can even convince him to watch a chick flick with me, but it'll have to be before Hawaii Five-O comes on. Because that show is just as fun as any movie I would pick for Valentine's day.
    I suppose I'll leave everyone with the thought that while spending money is very American, and at this point, probably good for the economy, maybe you should rethink saying it with diamonds. Or Hallmark. Get a blank card and write your own message. Those are almost always a better way to show you care.

When in doubt, quote. Someone else probably said it better.

Typing Versus Writing

I used to write everything by hand. Almost every story I wrote prior to 2007 was written with pen and paper first, and typed up later. Even some of my essays and school homework were written by hand and then typed. I love writing with a pen and paper. But it's not the smell of the ink, or the satisfying (although it is) stack of pages that grows taller every time I fill up a sheet of paper. It's the texture of the page, running my fingers across the written words on the page, and feeling the bumps and indentations of the letters scrawled across the lines. It's always entertaining to read my margin notes too, which frequently contain quotes or vocabulary from whatever movie I've been watching or music I've been listening to while I wrote that particular page. Amazingly enough, I can still usually figure out what that background media was when I look back at those pages, even though most of them are now 5 or more years old.
    But back to the feel of the page: it feels like creation. It feels like production. Look, Ma, I did it! You can't get that kind of satisfaction from a computer. Ooh, word count! Not the same. No matter how many times I change the font or the text color or add italics or spacing or whatever to dress it up, it doesn't have that same wow factor that a stack of pages does. Sure, you can print them out. Those stacks of pages are pretty impressive actually, with the title page on top and all those perfectly even margins and uniform text and font and page numbers. But even then, that stack of pages doesn't feel the same as the stack of lined paper, wrinkled with water stains, and scribbled on in that fervent, untidy, chicken scratch handwriting that happens when the words just couldn't be written fast enough.
    This is the kind of writing that's worth the effort. Whether it's just for you or whether you want the whole world to read it, that feeling of awe at yourself for having created something is necessary for it to be worthwhile. Unfortunately, I can only seem to get that feeling from handwritten work, and yet I persist in writing all my stories and ideas on a computer now that I have my own. It's faster, more convenient, I can type upwards of 60 words per minute, and I can do my research and all my other online tasks at the same time. There are plenty of reasons why I do write on the computer, but not one good reason why I should write on the computer rather than on paper. Again, it's a lot easier to get ideas down because my typing speed is much faster than my handwriting speed. But is it worthwhile when I don't get that elation I experience when I write "The End" on that last page and add it to the stack?
    Maybe I should reevaluate my writing goals this year. My primary goal has been to keep posting regularly to this blog. So far, so good. But maybe I ought to consider setting a goal that involves writing by hand. And finishing. Don't get me started on finishing things (if that makes sense). [Aside: I think the ratio of stories finished to stories begun has decreased exponentially so that hardly any of them are finished anymore.]
    However, for not finishing things, I think I have to blame the Muse. Little minx has been a bit stubborn the last few, well, years. But I have faith that she will return. On that day, my pen will run dry trying to keep filling up blank sheets of paper, instead of the blank screen of the word processing program.

Success is a once blank page covered with words. 

No Time Left For You

Last year, I had too much time on my hands. Much of which was spent surfing the Internet, looking and applying for jobs, playing online games, reading articles--some with merit, some without--and watching a lot of television. But 2011 is the year for too little time. I don't think I've ever been this busy except during my college prep type courses in high school. Even my undergraduate years in college didn't keep me this busy this often--just once a semester near and during finals week.
    I suppose this proves everything is cyclical, and maybe 2012 will give me a little more time to work with. But in the meantime, coping with exhaustion for about 75% of my week is frustrating, because I can't do much about it. I try to go bed earlier, but consequently, I don't finish what I need to finish.
    It's an uncomfortable situation, trying to decide which is your highest priority: school or work (although in my case, it's both), a social life, or sleep.

In a perfect world, all should be doable simultaneously. 

    A person should have enough time to sustain a social life, get enough rest, and do their school/work related assignments, tasks or projects, while still having a little time for herself to read, watch TV, blog, eat three meals a day, et cetera. When there isn't enough time for these basic human necessities (although TV may not be a necessity, I think you can agree that time to decompress and get your mind off all your other worries is), something has gone horribly wrong. It isn't right that people should have to decide which of these things is more important--or worse, which of these things are expendable. More often than not, sleep gets sacrificed first. Sometimes the social life disappears or wanes, but sleep tends to be the first to go. And yet, sleep, and its relativity to good health, is probably the most important of the three. 

    Normally, I'd be the first to say:

"Well, if you can't do it all, you're just not managing your time very well." 

    But even those people with excellent time management skills can fail to distribute their time fairly to each of these areas of life. If I separate each of them out, I can manage my time quite well, and arrange it so that each one gets its due attention, and I can get everything done that needs to be done, on time, and correctly (in regard to school/work related tasks). However, stacking them all together and sorting three things out together makes it much more difficult. I can make schedules; I can set timers for when I should finish tasks; I can arrive at social engagements on time and leave early; I can even add another 15 or 20 minutes to my sleep time by setting the alarm later. Still, all put together, something always ends up taking longer than expected and it throws the whole deal out of whack. 

    Lack of time is a vicious cycle because the more you try to catch up, the more your time passes faster and slips away from you, like trying to grasp at water--it just slides through the openings between your fingers. While some people would probably say that if I'm that busy, why I am spending this time writing a blog that hardly anyone will read? Because writing is one of those things that I do for myself, and without it, I might indeed have more time, but less sanity. So, I'm going to keep the writing, even if I lose a little time to do more homework or, unfortunately, get more sleep.

Dreams and sleep may not be economically productive, 

but the cultivation of wellness and intellect makes them worth it. 

Stop Talking. Please.

Honesty is to be valued. But where do we, or where should we, draw the line between honesty and gossip; honesty and disclosure; honesty and judgment? Many people have blurred these lines in an age where everyone can share anything just for the sake of sharing. Some things just should not be shared. Some things are better left in the closets with the skeletons for company. Just because we can share everything, via Facebook, Twitter, picture messages, email, etc, doesn't mean we should.

1. Gossip.
Gossip is "idle talk or rumor, especially about the personal or private affairs of others" (definition found at dictionary.reference.com). It's not something you should feel compelled to share with others. If you "heard" something about someone, not actually saw that rumor in action, it's probably not a good idea to be spreading it around. Especially if you work with the person or see them regularly enough that it could come back to you. Nobody likes a gossip, and it's worse if you're gossiping about things that just aren't true. Gossip is not honesty. It's talking about something that is most likely none of your business without knowing all the facts of the matter. If you don't have all the facts, you can't really be honest.

2. Disclosure.
Disclosure is quite a different animal from gossip. Disclosure seems to fall more into the category of giving someone information you feel you are legally or ethically bound to give them. Your doctor will tell you that shortness of breath is a side effect of this or that drug. That's disclosure. The building is being exterminated for rats. That, too, is disclosure. But what about a situation like this: Person A says that Person Y was accused of something like drinking on the job. Accused is not the same as convicted; it's not even the same as having a complaint filed. What if you know Y? What if Y has never been anything but helpful and professional to you? When Person A tells you this about Y, it seems not only like unnecessary information--because it seems like you might have noticed that kind of behavior earlier, but it seems like information that may be false or perhaps hyperbolized to the point that it is a misrepresentation of the facts. While it may seem like a person is ethically bound to disclose that kind of information, it's important to do it because one is concerned for another's welfare, and not because the person may have jumped to conclusions, or is telling stories about someone just because the person doesn't like them.

3. Judgment.
This one doesn't seem to be as relevant to honesty as the others did; however, if we examine it a little more closely, it is relevant in certain contexts. When we are being honest with someone--I like your new dress, I don't like that restaurant, I'd rather sit farther away from those noisy kids, etc--we are in fact passing judgment. We like the dress--it looks nice on her. That restaurant is perhaps dirty, crowded, unfriendly, has bad food, whatever. I don't like kids; the kids are noisy because their parents have no idea what they're doing; kids shouldn't be in restaurants because they can't be kept quiet, and so on. Those are all judgments, some stronger than others, but judgments none the less. Every preference you give is a reaction to something else--that reaction, although it may not be strong or visceral--is a judgment in favor of or in disapproval of something else. Judgment is something that can't be helped. But when you're being honest with someone and sharing your judgment about a situation, person, outfit, or whatever it may be, some judgments are better kept to yourself. Example: Saying "I hate that city," to someone from that place is not a very nice or tactful judgment to share with them. So, while sometimes honesty really is the best policy, honesty is not the best policy all the time.

I apologize for being a bit preachy today, and I realize that the disclosure example was a bit extreme with A and Y, but I have a point. We need to be aware of what we're saying, why we're saying it, and how it's affecting the people to whom we say it. This kind of awareness is valuable. It helps keep one's foot out of one's mouth more of the time.

Honesty is not equivalent to tact. Tactfulness helps. 

Down with the Internet?

What would we do without the Internet? 

    Seriously. We get our news, check our email, update our Facebook statuses, look at our horoscopes, find recipes, play video games, chat, search for that song we have stuck in our heads, and a gajillion other things every single day.
    We can even get the web on our cell phones now so we don't have to be away from the Internet while we work or attend school or anything. It's a love affair that's grown to the point of obsession for many. I admit, I don't think I would go very long without it. If I didn't have it at home, I'd be at the library or a computer lab on campus to check in with the many sites I feel obligated to visit daily, or at least weekly.
    If anyone saw the news this week (and it was kind of hard to avoid) about the Internet getting completely shut down in Egypt, your heart should have skipped a beat once the terrifying thought occurred of something like that happening here. Of course, the US is a much larger country than Egypt, and we have more Internet companies and ways to connect than they do, it still is a scary thought for many of us.
    Perhaps people would learn to love their televisions again, without the comforts of streaming Netflix or Hulu or today's headlines on CNN. But as there was in Egypt, I think there would be mass chaos, confusion, and uprising. Give us healthcare, that's one thing. Take away our Internet, we're gonna have words. Something like the loss of the Internet would cause a larger panic and full-on riot than any Stanley Cup playoffs, Super Bowl games, or even, I think, financial crisis could cause.
    We, as Americans, have grown used to instant gratification, and the loss of the greatest resource to achieve that end would create unprecedented amounts of upheaval.
    So, here it comes: are we too attached to this thing that didn't even exist 20 or 30 years ago? There was no Internet, nor did the average household even have a computer in it when I was born 23 years ago. We could get into the cell phone thing as well while we're at it, but I think the American population as a whole would be more distraught over the loss of the Internet than over the loss of cell phones. This is for the simple facts that if we lost phones and still had the Net, we could still Skype and IM and email. And, there would still be landlines in this scenario. But, I digress (which I knew was going to happen even though I really didn't want it to).
    I know that I, for one, am way too attached to the Internet. I check my email upwards of 10 times a day (that's 10 times or more PER ACCOUNT each day); I check the sports stats and scores; I look up words and search for people and places; I read article after article, blog after blog; I check my Facebook religiously too, even though there usually isn't much new content on mine.
    Let's examine this word with regard to Internet usage: religious. Is the Internet the new religion for the 21st century, at least in this country? I don't mean religion in the sense of it being a god, so don't jump down my throat yet. I mean religion in the sense of the Internet being something that we look to for guidance, for information, on not only how to lead our lives, but as a way to actually lead our lives. There are people who become their online identities and spend so much time online that they do not exist in the "real world" except to eat, drink, and otherwise keep their bodies alive and functioning. Now, I'm not saying everyone does this, or even that everyone wants to spend all their time online, but with the Internet available to us, 24 hours a day, every day--literally in the palms of our hands--it has attained the kind of status that an icon, relic, or talisman has. It's something we have to have, not just want to, but have to have, all the time, whenever we might need it.
    And there's no escaping it. You use it at work, you use it for school, you use for so many daily tasks that you used to be able to do or look for elsewhere--in books, from neighbors or friends, even on that not-so-distant relative, the television. While it doesn't look like we'll be losing our Internet connection any time soon, it might be a good idea to take a little break. Just to see how long you can go without it. See if you can really get through your day. I'll see if I can get through mine.
    One last thing, dear readers: it's a pretty safe assumption that should you accomplish this, the sky will not fall, the stars will not fade, and life will go on mostly as it has before.

Food for thought.