I complain about working at Hart lab, but just now, I realize that it just might be better than Applied Science. Well, it's just very different. I like how I kinda stay busy with people at AS in the morning; it keeps me awake. But I came close to having a nervous breakdown on Friday. See, at 8:00-12:00 on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays there tend to be a lot of crazy, crazy non-trads in the lab. Especially since it is in an academic building. I won't go into the details of Friday's situation, but I thank God that on Sunday night in a residential college computer lab, I can rest assured that I won't be dealing with that kind of insanity. There aren't even that many people who ask for my help here. These people just hang out and chat on MSN. I'm cool with that. And I can do my homework, which I very much need to do.
But my head is aswarm with things that don't even closely resemble Spanish verbs conjugated in future tenses or the description of the Franklin in the "General Prologue" to the Canterbury Tales. I'll try not to accost you with a spiel like last time. I apologize for that. But I just feel a little misplaced somehow. Like there is somewhere completely different I need to be. And I mean on a grander scale than "Yeah, I'd rather be at home on the couch right about now." It's not exactly that I feel inferior where I am either, but it's only a little different than that. Like I'm frantically trying to catch up with something that I don't even want or, more importantly, need. I'm not sure what that means, but I think it's a pretty good description. It's not that I am unhappy. That's not it. I'm just feeling a little lost at the moment. The good news is this: No matter how lost I might feel right now, no matter how much I don't recognize these pseudo-familiar surroundings, I know I'm headed in the right direction. It's like going somewhere you've never gone before: You've never seen these surroundings in your life, but you know your turn is coming up any minute and, according to your map, you'll arrive at your destination without a hitch. It's just a little intimidating between here and there.
Okay, enough of that. I gotta get to work on my paper for BarbCobb. And I need to work on this gold foil ball of miniature Reese's Cup wrappers I'm making.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Friday, September 17, 2004
all these hats
During those few quiet moments when I don't have to--don't allow myself to--be consumed by one particular demand or the other, I start to realize how many different things I have taken on this semester. For my entire college career, I have been challenging myself to test my limits, but I haven't taken myself up on that challenge until now. Not to say that I've stretched myself beyond my means, but this is the closest I've come. And it's not too bad.
In the past month I have accumulated and attempted to maintain being all these titles: Student. Employee. First Year Leader. Teacher, as a part of the BSU's conversation classes. Member of the English Students Organization. Am I forgetting anything? Oh, yes. Renter. Bill payer, etc. On top of this, I'm also a writer. Yes, blogging is a commitment, hehe. Plus, TDS asked me if I wanted to be a regular writer for the publication, so I've been doing a little tinkering with fiction. Not much.
The above is just a listing of those superficial, temporary roles in which I stand, roles where I can be replaced. Then there are the things that are engrained into the foundation of me: Daughter. Sister. Aunt. Friend. And in the bedrock of who I am: Child of God.
It is amazing to me that a simple person like me can expect herself to do all these things, and I'm sure my list is a short one. Well, no one's list is short. Everything from "student" to "friend" is so understated. With one tiny word of a title comes a world of responsibility and commitment from many different angles.
I guess this is where I'm going with this: Is a person supposed to have this many things required of him or her? When I didn't have so many things going on, I felt like I should. I think that was a desire to be more productive, like I needed more on my plate in order to not be considered a bum. Now that I have all kinds of responsibilities, well, I do feel responsible. But more productive? Not really. I suppose anyone can take on responsibility, though he or she doesn't have to be responsible. Once you successfully juggle everything, it takes much more commitment, effort, and focus to actually do well in your pursuit. But this seems so impossible, to be fully devoted to everything. So it comes down to either being mediocre at many things or exceptional at a few. But that, too, would require a person to abandon a plethora of responsibilities that are necessary, or at least seem necessary.
So what's the solution? Good question. Well, first, I guess it would be good to specifically identify the problem. That would be the seeming impossibility of being a success at anything when it takes being involved in so much to even be considered successful. I suppose the recurring statement of the oh-so wise sages has been ringing in my ears. "I'm not impressed with a 4.0 student if all they were was a student."
I guess a course of resolution would be first to determine where you find virtue. In mastery or experience? But for me, I think it's deeper than that, maybe a little of both. It seems everything boils down to a set of priorities, a hierarchy. I recall an object lesson about such things. If you want to fit rocks, sand, and water into a bucket, you can't start with the water or the sand. It just won't fit. You have to put the big rocks in first, then sift in the sand to fill the gaps, and allow the water to seep into the tiny crevices of the sand.
It is possible. Being Super-Woman isn't. I can't let my focus get fixed on the little things like sand and water. If I do, the things that matter most will never fit and I'm left without a foundation. And that makes everything else pretty much pointless. Therefore, I'd much rather just where one hat and let everything else be the bells and whistles.
Amendment - 3:51 pm
After reading back over all of that, I think I might disagree with myself. Here lies the beauty of journaling: Writing allows you to examine your own thoughts and then reflect on them. Though I may now have a different outlook that stated above, I have no intention of removing said journal entry. It took me a long time to write that at work, and I won't let it go to waste. Actually, this is just more of an expansion upon what I wrote earlier. Maybe it can serve as some sort of idea development model. Sounds nice, doesn't it?
Consider the concept of identity. Does having many responsibilities and roles in life mean that one has many identities? I believe that the answers yes and no could both be argued because both are possible. A person's self could be a culmination of the commitments the person has made, including marital status, occupation, community involvement, etc. A person's self may also be mutable, changing according to the role or combinations of roles being exercised.
Then there is a possible self that exists outside of roles and responsibilities. I think this is what I was trying to depict with my one-hat-with-bells-and-whistles metaphor. There is one self that is free from external mutability. When someone goes on a journey to "find himself," this self is the ideal finding.
My concern is this: How do I view my identity? Do I believe I am made up of all I do? Am I constantly changing? Or is my self something static with external changes? The last is what I am striving for. It is the one I believe is universally true of identity, but of course, this has an exception: rebirth. ["Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons!" 2 Corinthians 5:14] This self is not exactly external or internal, not a product of the world or a product of our own. Self-definition is found in God, and though the things of earth exist and impress themselves upon us, they are dim in this light.
Maybe all of this is just an expounded and verbose version of many preachers' phrase "in the world, not of the world." But somehow I feel like Emerson with his "Self Reliance" and "The Over-Soul." And I might have quite unintentionally hit on existentialism. My guess is that I have just enough insight to create for myself chaos. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
In the past month I have accumulated and attempted to maintain being all these titles: Student. Employee. First Year Leader. Teacher, as a part of the BSU's conversation classes. Member of the English Students Organization. Am I forgetting anything? Oh, yes. Renter. Bill payer, etc. On top of this, I'm also a writer. Yes, blogging is a commitment, hehe. Plus, TDS asked me if I wanted to be a regular writer for the publication, so I've been doing a little tinkering with fiction. Not much.
The above is just a listing of those superficial, temporary roles in which I stand, roles where I can be replaced. Then there are the things that are engrained into the foundation of me: Daughter. Sister. Aunt. Friend. And in the bedrock of who I am: Child of God.
It is amazing to me that a simple person like me can expect herself to do all these things, and I'm sure my list is a short one. Well, no one's list is short. Everything from "student" to "friend" is so understated. With one tiny word of a title comes a world of responsibility and commitment from many different angles.
I guess this is where I'm going with this: Is a person supposed to have this many things required of him or her? When I didn't have so many things going on, I felt like I should. I think that was a desire to be more productive, like I needed more on my plate in order to not be considered a bum. Now that I have all kinds of responsibilities, well, I do feel responsible. But more productive? Not really. I suppose anyone can take on responsibility, though he or she doesn't have to be responsible. Once you successfully juggle everything, it takes much more commitment, effort, and focus to actually do well in your pursuit. But this seems so impossible, to be fully devoted to everything. So it comes down to either being mediocre at many things or exceptional at a few. But that, too, would require a person to abandon a plethora of responsibilities that are necessary, or at least seem necessary.
So what's the solution? Good question. Well, first, I guess it would be good to specifically identify the problem. That would be the seeming impossibility of being a success at anything when it takes being involved in so much to even be considered successful. I suppose the recurring statement of the oh-so wise sages has been ringing in my ears. "I'm not impressed with a 4.0 student if all they were was a student."
I guess a course of resolution would be first to determine where you find virtue. In mastery or experience? But for me, I think it's deeper than that, maybe a little of both. It seems everything boils down to a set of priorities, a hierarchy. I recall an object lesson about such things. If you want to fit rocks, sand, and water into a bucket, you can't start with the water or the sand. It just won't fit. You have to put the big rocks in first, then sift in the sand to fill the gaps, and allow the water to seep into the tiny crevices of the sand.
It is possible. Being Super-Woman isn't. I can't let my focus get fixed on the little things like sand and water. If I do, the things that matter most will never fit and I'm left without a foundation. And that makes everything else pretty much pointless. Therefore, I'd much rather just where one hat and let everything else be the bells and whistles.
Amendment - 3:51 pm
After reading back over all of that, I think I might disagree with myself. Here lies the beauty of journaling: Writing allows you to examine your own thoughts and then reflect on them. Though I may now have a different outlook that stated above, I have no intention of removing said journal entry. It took me a long time to write that at work, and I won't let it go to waste. Actually, this is just more of an expansion upon what I wrote earlier. Maybe it can serve as some sort of idea development model. Sounds nice, doesn't it?
Consider the concept of identity. Does having many responsibilities and roles in life mean that one has many identities? I believe that the answers yes and no could both be argued because both are possible. A person's self could be a culmination of the commitments the person has made, including marital status, occupation, community involvement, etc. A person's self may also be mutable, changing according to the role or combinations of roles being exercised.
Then there is a possible self that exists outside of roles and responsibilities. I think this is what I was trying to depict with my one-hat-with-bells-and-whistles metaphor. There is one self that is free from external mutability. When someone goes on a journey to "find himself," this self is the ideal finding.
My concern is this: How do I view my identity? Do I believe I am made up of all I do? Am I constantly changing? Or is my self something static with external changes? The last is what I am striving for. It is the one I believe is universally true of identity, but of course, this has an exception: rebirth. ["Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons!" 2 Corinthians 5:14] This self is not exactly external or internal, not a product of the world or a product of our own. Self-definition is found in God, and though the things of earth exist and impress themselves upon us, they are dim in this light.
Maybe all of this is just an expounded and verbose version of many preachers' phrase "in the world, not of the world." But somehow I feel like Emerson with his "Self Reliance" and "The Over-Soul." And I might have quite unintentionally hit on existentialism. My guess is that I have just enough insight to create for myself chaos. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
fools and reasons
So my pictures aren't working. Interesting. It is so interesting because my background is hosted at the same place my photos are, but it's working despite this fact. Strange times. Sucky times, actually.
I went to see Sissy, Victoria, and Kathryn again tonight. I kind of forgot to take some more pictures, but that's okay. Even the day she was born I had this whole "3x5" mentality going on. I didn't want to waste my time taking pictures because I wanted to experience her with my own eyes. I did that tonight, holding her for probably an hour. She is such a wonderful baby. And I know people say that about every child they claim, but she is! Oh, and I thought this was funny. Ingenious, but funny. The hospital puts security sensors on babies' ankles, like house arrest bracelets. That's in case some psycho tries to kidnap one of them or something. It's a great idea, but I think it's hilarious that these newborns look like paroled delinquents.
I've been listening to the radio regularly these days because the CD player in my car is quite dysfunctional. It won't play. It just flashes an error message and regurgitates the disc. So I've been enjoying the wonders of local radio. I primarily flip back and forth between 96.9 and Q 108 on my journey to and from Paducah, and there is a more-than-obvious pattern: Hoobastank's "The Reason," some Hootie and the Blowfish song, probably "Only Wanna Be with You," and then an Alanis Morissette song, usually "One Hand in My Pocket." And then Hoobastank again. And isn't that a strange line-up? But it has happened to me more than once in the past week. At very differing times of day. And I like "The Reason" and all, but sheesh. How long has that song been out? It's being played far too often. But I always hang around long enough to catch my favorite part when he says "that's why I want you to know" for the last time and his voice breaks on "know." Ah, I love that. That passionate desperation gets to me every time. [See: John Mayer's "Covered in Rain" and "Why Did You Mess with Forever."] But I've also picked up on the fact that when he says "hear" in the "that's why I need you to hear" part, the music does a thing that sounds just like the beginning of my ringtone, so I jump every time I hear that song. Which is officially every three seconds. Another radio observation I've made is this: Fools are apparently very lyrical. I've just read Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night," and the diction was full of language about fools. So I guess it's been on the brain, but when they weren't giving Hooba some air-time, I heard lots of songs that mention fools. Ah, one of which is from Hootie. The line is "you can count on me your fool" in "Only Wanna Be with You," but I heard many more. Of course, most songs are love songs, so what else could you expect but foolishness? I jest, I jest.
Okay, I should have been studying or reading or working on a paper or something while I was writing this, but whatever, right? Now it's too late, and I have to go to bed. Got ol' work in the morning, and I can maybe get a little accomplished there. Oh, I should be getting my first paycheck soon. That's very exciting. So right now, I'm going to check my bank account, with false hope, to see if any direct depositing has happened. Then it's a night.
I went to see Sissy, Victoria, and Kathryn again tonight. I kind of forgot to take some more pictures, but that's okay. Even the day she was born I had this whole "3x5" mentality going on. I didn't want to waste my time taking pictures because I wanted to experience her with my own eyes. I did that tonight, holding her for probably an hour. She is such a wonderful baby. And I know people say that about every child they claim, but she is! Oh, and I thought this was funny. Ingenious, but funny. The hospital puts security sensors on babies' ankles, like house arrest bracelets. That's in case some psycho tries to kidnap one of them or something. It's a great idea, but I think it's hilarious that these newborns look like paroled delinquents.
I've been listening to the radio regularly these days because the CD player in my car is quite dysfunctional. It won't play. It just flashes an error message and regurgitates the disc. So I've been enjoying the wonders of local radio. I primarily flip back and forth between 96.9 and Q 108 on my journey to and from Paducah, and there is a more-than-obvious pattern: Hoobastank's "The Reason," some Hootie and the Blowfish song, probably "Only Wanna Be with You," and then an Alanis Morissette song, usually "One Hand in My Pocket." And then Hoobastank again. And isn't that a strange line-up? But it has happened to me more than once in the past week. At very differing times of day. And I like "The Reason" and all, but sheesh. How long has that song been out? It's being played far too often. But I always hang around long enough to catch my favorite part when he says "that's why I want you to know" for the last time and his voice breaks on "know." Ah, I love that. That passionate desperation gets to me every time. [See: John Mayer's "Covered in Rain" and "Why Did You Mess with Forever."] But I've also picked up on the fact that when he says "hear" in the "that's why I need you to hear" part, the music does a thing that sounds just like the beginning of my ringtone, so I jump every time I hear that song. Which is officially every three seconds. Another radio observation I've made is this: Fools are apparently very lyrical. I've just read Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night," and the diction was full of language about fools. So I guess it's been on the brain, but when they weren't giving Hooba some air-time, I heard lots of songs that mention fools. Ah, one of which is from Hootie. The line is "you can count on me your fool" in "Only Wanna Be with You," but I heard many more. Of course, most songs are love songs, so what else could you expect but foolishness? I jest, I jest.
Okay, I should have been studying or reading or working on a paper or something while I was writing this, but whatever, right? Now it's too late, and I have to go to bed. Got ol' work in the morning, and I can maybe get a little accomplished there. Oh, I should be getting my first paycheck soon. That's very exciting. So right now, I'm going to check my bank account, with false hope, to see if any direct depositing has happened. Then it's a night.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
kathryn elise
Born tonight at 7:17, she weighs 7 pounds, 15 ounces, and she's 17 3/4 inches long, or short, if you will. (She's a chunk. A very, very beautiful chunk with a headful of dark hair.) Sissy was in labor for 12 hours, and I was there at the hospital for most of it. Needless to say, I missed every one of my classes. This is the first time I've found something worth missing an entire day of college courses. Anyway, everyone is doing great. And I'm way past my bedtime. Good, ahem, great night.
Monday, September 13, 2004
so i forget
I guess it's been a couple days, huh? Sometimes, believe it or not, I forget about this blog. I forget a lot of things actually. Like last night, I almost forgot to go to work. It's not like going to work at Hart is a habit or anything. It was only the second time I've worked there.
So this weekend. Friday night I did a little Cinema International and hanging out in Springer. Most of Saturday was spent in Calvert City. I guess we were just sitting around waiting for the baby to come. It didn't. It still hasn't. Pesky little thing. :-) And then that night I went back to Springer for a little Scattergorical gaming, which was great fun, but by the end of all that, I became unusually tired and headed back home to bed. I tried to do all kinds of homework yesterday, but it basically amounted to working on my Spanish practice quiz at home and using my entire time at work to do the online workbook. I have that Spanish quiz today, and I'm a little frightened about it. So maybe I should study. I think I will.
Forgive me for the lack of interesting material. Oh, let's see. I almost died yesterday. Is that interesting? I was turning left onto 641 out of Main Street. I had a green arrow, but the man in the large, large truck across the street apparently didn't realize that he still had a red light and started barreling on across 641 anyway. In mid-turn, I had to come to a complete stop and let the unnecessarily road-enraged man illegally pass. I all but cried. And this time, it wasn't even my fault. You should be proud.
So this weekend. Friday night I did a little Cinema International and hanging out in Springer. Most of Saturday was spent in Calvert City. I guess we were just sitting around waiting for the baby to come. It didn't. It still hasn't. Pesky little thing. :-) And then that night I went back to Springer for a little Scattergorical gaming, which was great fun, but by the end of all that, I became unusually tired and headed back home to bed. I tried to do all kinds of homework yesterday, but it basically amounted to working on my Spanish practice quiz at home and using my entire time at work to do the online workbook. I have that Spanish quiz today, and I'm a little frightened about it. So maybe I should study. I think I will.
Forgive me for the lack of interesting material. Oh, let's see. I almost died yesterday. Is that interesting? I was turning left onto 641 out of Main Street. I had a green arrow, but the man in the large, large truck across the street apparently didn't realize that he still had a red light and started barreling on across 641 anyway. In mid-turn, I had to come to a complete stop and let the unnecessarily road-enraged man illegally pass. I all but cried. And this time, it wasn't even my fault. You should be proud.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)