October 2002 Archives
Don't take anything you see in this post at face value.
I have a lot to say, but not much time to say it.
I have this concept of a news collage -- snippets of news taken out of context and strung together to provide a general view (or not) of what's going on in the world today. I think it could serve as a bit of a global barometer, even though I'm absolutely convinced that the news that is reported is -not- a representative sample of the actual news going on in the world today.
I'll try it soon. I promise.
I also haven't yet recorded the details of my camera experiment. Posterity awaits with baited breath, I'm sure...
Here's an interesting variation on weblogging: I noticed an article on the back of one of the campus publicity rags (published by the Office of Public Affairs) that six first-year students from all walks of life were publishing web journals, sponsored by the OPA and the Office of Admissions, through December.
I love Ani Difranco. Have I mentioned that lately? The woman could read me her grocery list, and I'd think it was brilliant. I'd marry her if they'd let me. :)
It always amazes me how much sound can come from one small person and a guitar. I'm so quiet in comparison.
The crowd was incredibly subdued this time -- nothing like the last time I saw her at the same venue. I couldn't decide if it was the acoustic set or all the new music she played, but I got the impression some people weren't totally into it this time around. Their loss, I suppose.
It's all the live Ani I'll see for the next year or so -- I feel like I should soak it up and enjoy it while I can.
That's my mantra for the week. What started out as a nasty cold, complete with head congestion and a sore throat, which kept me home on Monday, was downgraded to just head congestion on Tuesday. Today, I woke up with the head congestion, the sore throat, and a nasty metallic cough. Yeah, you know the kind.
I've been trying to wait until I could breathe before trying to catch up on my journal-writing, but I'm starting to think I may never breathe again. It certainly puts a damper on long cross-campus walks on beautiful October days. I had three people comment on how flushed my face was when I got back to the office. "It's normal," I replied to each, "I'm Irish."
I have a long entry yet to be written, but I've lost all use of my nose, which makes me sort of testy, so I'm not in a writing mood today. Send me healthy vibes for tomorrow!
When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side,
A wondrous portal opened wide,
As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;
And the Piper advanced and the children followed,
And when all were in to the very last,
The door in the mountain-side shut fast.
--The Pied Piper of Hamelin
1. What size shoe do you wear?
It depends on the shoe, and hovers somewhere around 9 1/2.
2. How many pairs of shoes do you own?
I have no idea, realistically. It depends where you start counting. Including the ones I never wear, I probably own 25 pairs of shoes or so.
3. What type of shoe do you prefer (boots, sneakers, pumps, etc.)?
Doc Martens! Love my Doc Martens. I want all the styles I can get.
4. Describe your favorite pair of shoes. Why are they your favorite?
I have a new pair of Doc Marten oxfords that I got for $45 about a month ago. They're cute, and where can you find Doc Martens so inexpensive?
5. What's the most you've spent on one pair of shoes?
Around $120, I think.
I've been in a story-telling mood lately.
The drummers assemble there, in their normal place, and I perch nearby like a bird in a tree, or a squirrel, to watch from afar. I am a watcher.
Care for illustration?
Pound! Pound! the drums beat out their rhythm,
like an endless trance. Faster, faster, like a train or a panic attack
The drummers sit upon the ledge, still but for the constant movement of their hands, driven by some inner rhythm spirit inspiration
Pound! sound the drums as the others draw near to watch the spectacle unfold with drums of their own and rhythm in their hearts they join the round
and I
watch from my perch then creep to the side, sit upon the ground, place my hands on the floor and feel the rhythm in my skin and my bones
I absorb it like sunlight as the crowd
grows,
hypnotized, drawn to the drummers, sailors to sirens
and when the girls begin their dance, they move like shivas, transcending the cosmos, creating and destroying with each Pound! Pound!
of their feet on the wood, they dance like goddesses until they're breathless, cheeks flushed,
and when they stop, they grin as though they were mortal after all, and gather their things
and step out into the madness and go about their lives.
and I gather my things and step out into the madness and go about my life
and the drums Pound! Pound! behind me as I go.
I am not a drummer or a dancer. I am a watcher, and I have seen.
I am, by all admission, a product of the choices I've made in my life. Ever the faithful Plan II major, I've always made an effort to follow the paths of life in such a way that I leave as many options available to myself as possible. Inevitably, there comes a time that I have to make a decision that nullifies the other possibilities. How does one deal with that?
It's not that I'm unhappy with the life I find myself leading at 25. In fact, I have a great job, working with people I genuinely like and respect, in a city I love. (If you'd told me about this job a few years ago, it would've definitely been in the running for my lifetime dream-job. Then again, dream-jobs are all glory and no drudgery, and real jobs have a bit of each to balance each other out.) And really, is 25 old enough for me to start feeling the tinges of a mid-life crisis?
For me, I think the biggest fear is that I'll settle down before I'm ready to. As it stands, I have an apartment full of stuff that I can't just leave behind. It's not even that I have some final destination set. It just bothers me that it's not as simple as just packing up and leaving if I want to.
In a perfect world, I could take a year or two off of work to see the world. I'd backpack across Europe, see Asia, kayak and scuba dive in some fabulous, exotic locales, and then come back, if I feel like it at the end. In reality, it's not quite that easy.
So maybe it's that I'm 25, that my mom had a baby when she was my age, that several of my coworkers are having babies these days. Or maybe it's watching the kids around here as they take their own life-paths and make choices that will change the courses of their own histories. Or maybe it's just that, before I make some momentous decision to meet someone, marry, settle down, and have 2.5 children, a dog, a cat, and a hedgehog named Hedgewig, I want to explore my options. All of them.
How else can I discover what the world holds for me?
