If at first you don't succeed, try, try again

I wrote a post last night at a somewhat ridiculous hour, and looking back on it, I'm not really sure that I said what I meant to say. I'm not entirely certain that I'll get it out now, but at least I have a better chance, with both some sleep and my excellent procrastination skills on my side. My eloquence has been at an all-time low lately though, so if you'd try to read more for content than style, I'd be much obliged.

After a strange experience last night, I feel compelled to make the following assertion: I'm certain that the vast majority of people are beautiful inside. You are, much, if not all, of your family is, your neighbors even - but people hardly ever wear their hearts on their sleeves. To take the unrepresentative exterior and assume that it applies to the person within is an incredibly ridiculous assumption. While our brains are wired to help us recognize threats and such in facial expressions and attitudes of other people, some of this instinct has also been altered by society. Some of the nicest people I've ever met have been people society deems dangerous and irrational - like the scraggly wild-haired man who discussed brass quintet music with me in one of NYC's music stores, or the homeless woman at Porter Square who asked me to watch her things for a few minutes. If I knew these people better, I might not necessarily be best friends with them (although, who knows?) - but just because I don't know them at all doesn't mean I should be rude. Or pretend that they don't exist.

It's like that saying people are always quoting: 'Don't judge a book by its cover' - you can't possibly know anything at all about a person based on what they look like at this one moment of their lives except for what they look like at this exact moment. Yes, I suppose you can extrapolate and make assumptions, but really, what purpose does that serve? I can't help but feel like in our world, every wall we throw up between ourselves and the next person is another brick in the wall between ourselves and the world. Because really, what is the world? People. Animals, nature, yes, definitely, absolutely. But our entire world (where by world I suppose I mean society and structure and world on a day-to-day basis) is made of and by people just like you and me. People who could use a genuine smile from a stranger on the T after a long day. People who could use a hand, or a connection, a thank you, some small interaction to see that others do care. A moment of time to say 'yes, you are alive, and so am I. Isn't it wonderful?'

I'm not saying go out and be stupid. Don't wander dark alleys looking for strangers to smile at. But don't keep your head down and your hood up as you blunder through the crowds. Notice the people you're traveling through time with. Take a moment for the street musicians. Give someone you love a hug. Smile at a stranger. 9 times out of 10, they'll smile back. I know.

[not a] fail

I was working on the methane question during italian (shh) and I realized that the math I was doing at midnight is pathetic. I'll fix the post later - suffice it to say that actually, methane ends up holding 2.5 times as much radiation as carbon dioxide when it's all said and done.
Oops.

Added around 5:15 later the same day:
Ok, so the final findings (according to me and my very limited research into the subject) are thus - initially, CH₄ absorbs 2.5 times the radiation as CO₂, but because of the different residence times, there comes a point where both gases flatline - and at that time, carbon dioxide is absorbing 4 times the amount of infrared radiation as methane.
With a change in time of 10 years, you get something like this (table of relative absorptions):

CH₄   CO₂
25      10
25      20 <- point of flatline for CH₄
25      30
...       ... [skip a few years]
25      80
25      90
25      100 <- point of flatline for CO₂

In this very limited view, I'm saying that the same amounts of methane and carbon dioxide are being released into the atmosphere basically once ever 10 years. Iffy, unrealistic, but it shows some interesting things. Anyway, because methane has a residence time of only 10 years, you're starting from scratch at every new entry on the table. CO₂, however, has a much longer residence time, and it builds up - only falling out of the atmosphere at the second flatline point.

I just really needed to clarify that. When I find out the actual answer to this puzzle (on Thursday), I'll do my best to post it in a timely fashion. It'll be interesting to see!!!

When I don't feel like working...

I, unfortunately, tend not to. I am becoming a master procrastinator. Becoming? I suppose I have always been this way. It is unfortunate. Anyway!
I was just looking up some stuff about methane burning, because my geo101 professor asked us whether it would be better for the environment (in terms of climate change) to burn methane gas, or to let it escape into the atmosphere. On the one hand, by burning the methane you do make energy, which we all need - but on the other hand, by burning methane, you do the following:
CH₄ + 2O₂ -> CO₂ + 2H₂O + energy
The biggest problem with this is that it puts CO₂ into the atmosphere, which absorbs infrared radiation and is the whole thing we're trying to avoid. Interestingly, letting the methane just escape into the atmosphere as it is puts molecules that absorb infrared radiation 25 times more effectively than CO₂ out there - which seems, at first glance, to be a problem. But then I found out that CO₂ has a residence time of 100 to 110 years, while CH₄ has a residence time of 9 to 10 years. Soooo, you get 25 times more absorption, but for only 1/10th the time.
The crazy thing about this question is that there are a whole bunch of things that I can't seem to find (or don't recognize them in the very scientific ways they may be presented in) like - would the amount of energy produced by methane burning be greater than or less than the energy produced by the infrared radiation blocked by methane molecules through solar panels? Actually, I guess that question doesn't even matter in light of the actual question, which is about environmental benefits. I'm just curious about the numbers.
In other news, I just had pretty much the best break in the world. That may have been because technically, it was my first break this whole semester, since I went to Maine with the geo department during my fall break, but it was just really, really nice. I *didn't* do my homework (which is why I'm in the rocks lab at o-dark-thirty), but I spent some really nice quality time with my family, including the newest addition: Farrah. She's kind of insane. Well, mostly she's very energetic. Sometimes she does thing that I did when I was younger, and it's really, really weird to be on the other side of that. Mostly it's just really weird suddenly having a (for all intents and purposes) little sister like this, all of a sudden. My mom said to take it as a life experience; things like this are what make life so rich, and I guess she's right. Part of me would still rather I have a perhaps less-enriched life with my family remaining as it is, but another part of me, the part of me that is incredibly, ridiculously delighted with new relationships and the wonderful people in my life, is ok. And also the teeeensy part of me that always wanted a sister is pretty happy, hahaha.
Speaking of new relationships, I can quite honestly say that I have never been this happy in my entire life. I don't even know. Every time I try to express myself, the words that usually float around in my head all vanish and these things that I want to express manifest in colors and this thing called language that is supposed to make me (well, humans) so special becomes rather useless. Because if I walked around going 'blue! gold! a little bit of yellow, right there, and some fantastic maroon blending into scarlet' (I think that loosely translates to I now know someone who is so wonderful that I'm beside myself in amazement half the time, and the rest of the time, I don't even know. Aqua. Sunlight shining through the ocean.), well, it would be interesting, but not really convenient. Which is kind of unfortunate, because I think that colors are a really interesting mode of expression. One of these days - well, when I get home for break, I think - I'll sit down with some paint and try to put it onto canvas.
In the meantime, I think I should probably go back to my room, and then curl up with my pillows and perhaps dream up something for Sognante. Or (if it's just colors) maybe just for me :).

I can see!!!

My new glasses came in the mail today (I had them mailed to me, otherwise I would have had to wait until after thanksgiving to get them, and that seemed a little crazy - mostly because they were ready and I wanted to be able to seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee) and they are SO CLEAR! It's amazing. Something happened to the special scratch-resistant coating on my last pair, and the coating was starting to ... selectively dissolve? I don't know what exactly, but it was making spots on my lenses, which is probably similar to having cataracts on your eyes (am I being melodramatic? Probably :P)
Here they are:

As you can see, they're pretty different from my last pair, in more ways than one! I love my old frames; I love that they're serious on the outside and have polka dots on the inside - but they're plastic and apparently the plastic they use for this type of frame 'dries out', so if anyone tried to take out the lenses and put in new ones, they might snap. Bah! I went through a lot of frames searching for an adequate replacement pair, which is in and of itself rather amusing. I mean, It's always taken me a while to pick out new frames, but when I was younger it was a really exciting process. This time, I was actually sad that I couldn't keep my old frames.
Anyway, these are the other frames I looked at:

So many varieties! But I ended up with the copper ones from the first picture. They're interesting and different, and I rather like them :P.
MOSTLY I'm just super super super excited about how clear the world is :D and I thought I would share. It's been a rather strange day, all things said, and the fact that my glasses came today has sort of accentuated that because I have to get used to the new prescription, so things look a little strange (Actually, nothing looks strange, it just takes a (noticeable) split-second for my eyes to focus.) Waking up this morning was weird, although I couldn't tell you why. I stayed up late doing italian homework last night, so that probably had something to do with it - and then we had a review in astro for our Friday midterm, and then I was riding my bike back to my dorm when I saw a few people standing around a girl who was sitting on the ground holding her arm next to her bike. In light of my unfortunate experience yesterday, I thought that maybe my first-aid kit would come in handy, but, good lord, she'd broken her arm and the bone had come through the skin. I didn't actually see the bone, buh her arm was bleeding rather heavily through her sleeve, and I'm pretty sure there are a select number of reasons for that - the number one being bones through skin. bleeeehhhhhhh. The girl who got there first was helping her hold her arm up, and we talked to the girl (Savannah) until campus po and the paramedics arrived.
And then, after that, I don't know. I've felt kind of light-headed since, which is dumb because it isn't like anything happened to me, and I don't get queasy at the sight of blood, but the thought of her bone sticking through her arm O.o. And also the ridiculous frailty of people. It worries me.
Take care of yourselves guys, ok?

An Ode

Banner Self Service

This is a system that needs help -
a little service for itself -
For while I sit here, my breath bated
my poor computer sure is hated
on by Banner Self Service.

Neither Firefox nor Safari
can get juice enough to see
through the maelstrom of requests
that Banner wears close to the vest,
Allowing us access, pretending we're set-
then chuckling and casting us out from the 'net.

Perhaps the problem is, in fact, this:
All of us, wile not registering, Banner does miss
and in attempts to make us stay
makes us curse the light of day
that creeps across the windowsill-
It's only 20 minutes! Be still!

So when next at your computer you sit
do pay Banner a brief visit
Look at your classes, or how much you own
try changing your name to 'Suzie', or 'Joe'
Through our attentions, perhaps B will see
That we love it, and it won't hate me!


Hahaha! I wrote this at the beginning of the semester while trying to register for classes - 'Banner' is the name of the system that Wellesley uses for this purpose, and while the server is certainly large enough to handle the sporadic requests throughout the semester, the sudden onslaught of demands while the whole college (well, each class) is registering usually overloads it, so it will look like it's just taking a really long time to process your request - but ACTUALLY nothing is happening at all, and you have to start from scratch.
This can be stressful because registration works on a first come, first serve basis, so if you need a particular section of a class because it's the only one that fits into your schedule (or say, want to avoid the Friday afternoon lab period) and everyone else wants it too... well, if Banner doesn't want you to have it, chances are it will kick you off. By the time you make it back on, it'll probably be full.
But! But! This morning, I registered for classes and it was SO EASY! Whether this was because my year-mates forgot that this morning was registration or because they did something with the number of requests Banner can process at any one time, I do not know. All I did was type in my courses, click 'ok' (or whatever that button says), and poof! There it all was! (normally there are around 20 minutes of edge-of-your-seat anticipation, but not this morning!)
Amazing.
So, I'm currently registered to take the following classes in the spring:
Geos 200 w/lab (historical geology)
Chem 105 w/lab (intro chemistry)
Italian 102 (second segment of the year-long italian program)
Music 235 (or some number like that) <- This should be interesting; it's a class on 'the orchestral instrument'. Really, I wanted to take theory, but the italian class messes with what I can and can't take - as the second segment, it's required otherwise I don't get credit for the first segment, and there are only 2 sections offered, so there aren't that many options. It's possible that another theory class will get put together though, in which case I will most definitely take it (provided it fits). Especially because this class meets Tuesdays and Fridays from 2:30-4:00, which is fine, it just... you know. If I want to go home, it means that I can't leave until 4. Ah well! Things can still change.
Wahoo! I'm registered!

(and I've also decided not to go to italian this morning. does that mean I can cross off 'declare your own personal lake day' on the list of 50 things? heh)

:D

Thoughts about Spacetime

I had a brilliant idea about spacetime this morning, but upon writing the blog explaining it, I came to realize that it is wrong - at the very least, I have come to realize that it requires more thought.
I needed to write this little bit because I spent so much time constructing my beautiful explanation, and I felt it required some acknowledgment.
heh

Maine (Part 1?)

Right now, I'm in Maine with the geology department from Wellesley, and we're basically taking a tour up the coast of all of the interesting rocks we can find - and man, with 4 geology professors along, 'interesting' basically encompasses EVERYTHING. I don't know enough terminology yet to accurately scientifically convey what I've seen, and I haven't yet uploaded my pictures, but when I do I will post them somewhere because the rocks here are absolutely incredible!! The whole coast (and then some) of Maine wasn't originally part of the North American continental plate - it was probably formed along the coast of Africa, and over millions of years, it's worked its way over, eventually colliding and accreting. So basically, not only are these rocks incredibly old, but they also formed on the other side of the world!!! (Granted they may not have traveled particularly far; it depends on time after Pangea and stuff like that, but anyway.) So we have these huge formations of igneous rocks that have been incredibly metamorphosed (we saw a section where the rock had been heated so much that it nearly melted - but it didn't, because if it had then the layering wouldn't still be visible - so you see these incredible swirls in the rock!! Swirls!! In ROCK!!) There was this whole other section that was both more dramatic and less - more because it was easier to see, but less because it probably required less heat and pressure to form, but basically there were these HUGE folds in the rock, and there were these perfect cross sections where you could see this huge curve in the rock - once upon a time, I would have been like 'hm. That's pretty neat looking.' - but now that I know some of the processes involved, I can't get over how awesome it is.
Man, Geology is so cool.
Ok. We're heading out now, going farther up the coast to look at MORE ROCKS!! Tomorrow morning we're going to Desert Island to hike up Cadillac Mountain to see the sun rise on the highest point on the Atlantic coast of the US - we'll see the sun first that morning! hehe!
:D

Wise words

Ellen Hayes - selections from her essay on electives.

"Compared with Jupiter and Saturn, this is not much of a planet, but it is your own planet. Will you feel quite satisfied to go up and down it for seventy years and remain deaf to the long, long story, blind to the pictured page? You are planning to visit, some day, the Yellowstone and the Alps. However much you may think you enjoy those regions, you will see, but understand not, and your enjoyment will be far less than it might be if you fail to study geology...... Do you think that ability to express yourself in French and German will in any degree make up to you for ignorance of the language of mother earth?

...Recover yourself from the conceit that you are an important person because you are a college graduate. The girl who spends the long day tying up bread and cake in a city grocery probably has as good a mind as you have, - perhaps a better one... You have lived for a while in a uniquely constituted community, all of whose members have sufficient food and wear good clothes, where there is light and warmth, books and music and pictures, - enough and more than enough; where there is exemption from responsibility and from the necessity of initiatve, and where there is freedom from the cares, the sorrows, and the dangers that beset many young women's lives. Depart quietly. The real test of you is yet to come."

Seeing Double

I was reading Anna Karenina last night, and a phrase of Tolstoy's struck me: It's the morning after Anna informs her husband about her affair with Vronsky, and whereas just after she came clean she felt startling clarity about her future and her new position in life, in the morning she suddenly feels as though she has done everything wrong and there is no more hope-
"She felt that everything was beginning to go double in her soul, as an object sometimes goes double in tired eyes. Sometimes she did not know what she feared, what she desired: whether she feared or desired what had been or what would be, and precisely what she desired, she did not know."
How does Tolstoy KNOW? I just can't get over these descriptions of these states of mind... and I guess the amazement lies not in that he knows, but in that he has this ability to describe it so perfectly.

Sometimes, I think this happens to me. It's really disconcerting. For example - now that I've explored most of the lake in my kayak, I can just go out and float around, looking at clouds and the water and the buildings that I can see through the trees... and I get struck by these feelings that the only thing that is real in the entire picture is the earth and the sky. I can't quite capture the feeling because I'm not stuck in it right now, but essentially, it's at times like these where I start to feel like I, myself, don't quite exist. I'm dust on the wind. Intangible, unimportant, insignificant. True, true, and true - but I think that at some point, you have to throw up mental glass barriers. Define the limits of your world, and ascribe meaning (on this level, I can understand the creation of religions, to some degree) otherwise you're just floating in space, alone. That's not to say that I now think it's necessary to invent a deity to give my life meaning, because I have no problem with being a product of evolution and *not* having a god-given purpose - I'm just saying that when I let down my mental barriers and put myself in the universe, I feel blurred. Maybe one day I'll learn to deal with this and from it I'll be able to garner great wisdom (:P), but in the meantime, it kind of freaks me out. It's like I try to look at myself and I see double (yeah Tolstoy!).

In other news (and sort of related - at least in my head), the other day I had lunch with a girl in my geos class, and we were talking about the weird dynamic that we perceive exists at Wellesley - the drive to simultaneously be better than any man and also to be the best woman possible (cough. That's not exactly what it is. I just don't know how to put it into words), and yet - I can't shake this feeling that the truly important things in life revolve around love. Wellesley wants us to go forth into the world and be the next CEOs, the next leaders of the world, and part of me can't help but think that while there are definitely very many valuable things to do in the world, what does it mean if you have no one to share it with? If I devote my life to saving the world, but never have love, that seems like a waste. At the same time though - if I find love and don't try to do all that I can to save the world, isn't that also a waste? Perhaps a bigger waste? (and by waste, I mean... I don't really know what I'm trying to say here. I'm trying to explain it to myself. I don't mean "WASTE" like garbage... I just mean that there are things that I feel like I have to do, and if I don't, then, well, something is wrong.)

It all comes back to this whole mortality thing. I think that my understanding of this basic fact is what makes me think such strange things sometimes... like - let's say that I'm going to live to be 100 years old (woo!). That means that basically, at this time, I have lived one whole fifth of my life. It's gone. I can't have it back. I have memories, sure! But after my life, after I die, that's it. I can't go back and live this again. I don't know what happens after, if anything at all, but man, this is it. I've got one chance to make every mistake and fix it. One chance to say everything that needs to be said (when I put it like that, all of my wishy-washy indecision seems glaringly pathetic), one chance to be me.
Or maybe this is all a little melodramatic - certainly you get more than once chance for many things within your lifetime, but on a larger scale, in the sense that you can't go back and re-do your life, you've got one chance to live.

Hmm. I think it's time to go immerse myself in some italian busy work.

Confusion

Picture me, sitting at my desk, trying to put words to the mess that's in my head right now so that I can figure it out, but I can't find them.

Picture me, inside my head. Looking down the length of my spine towards where my heart should be (anatomically speaking, but we're not), and there we see a mass of color, of light, dancing and writhing and leaping and sobbing in conflicting states.

Picture me, within that mass of color, looking for clarity and getting blinded. So much color! So much light! So many potential joys and sorrows and questions without answers that can barely be thought let alone asked - and where to turn?

All I have to do is reach out. One hand of each through the mess of emotion and catch hold and lend the clarity of the outside to the emotion of the inside and blend -

so simple, put into words I cannot find.




not a poem. just words.

sometimes

I write these posts and I think to myself 'wow, that's awesome!' and then 10 minutes later, I feel like a pompous fool. So bring your salt.

What if...

Time/space/the universe operates in a purely circular fashion? (I think I just mean time... but by extension the universe and space)
I was talking to Nea yesterday, and she was talking about her philosophy class in which her professor proved the existence of God - I can't remember the exact series of conclusions, but basically it was that because there is a beginning and an end, there must be a God which exists beyond our realm of understanding and thus has no beginning and no end - and there was also something about either God is necessary, or God is impossible, and because God is not impossible, God must be necessary - therefore God exists. (This all seems rather backwards and not exactly ok, but I won't go into that here)
Basically, the interesting thing is that this conversation made me think about all of the premises that nea's professor was using to prove that God exists - namely, that the universe has a beginning and and end. I'm not espousing this theory that I've come up with, it's just a thought that I wanted to put down on paper. Err. Yeah, you get it.
So! Here we go: what if the universe doesn't have a beginning or an end? What if time is circular? What then? We're making all of these assumptions about the universe that may or may not be true. There may not be an actual 'beginning' or 'end' of things. How this was manifest itself in the way that we perceive the world, I have no idea (so don't ask me!), but really. What if? Don't say that it's impossible yet -
It's kind of like thinking about light - nothing moves faster than light! Doesn't that sound like a ridiculous statement? How can nothing move faster than light? But nothing does. This is a set law about our universe that we've come to appreciate and accept. So what if the 'that's just the way things are' sort of thing applies to this too? So it doesn't fit into our understanding of time - but who's to say that it has to?
I don't know. I should think about this more.

kNow-ledge

I was sitting on the science center lawn today, not thinking about anything - just enjoying the warmth of the sun (especially after the frigidity of my geos classroom) and the comfort of the grass, when I saw a feather on the ground next to me. I reached out and picked it up, and because I wasn't thinking of anything, I just looked at it. And looked.
And realized that I didn't know anything about feathers, and hardly anything about birds. Oh, sure, I can name some of them based on markings, I know the movement of the wings in flight (not merely up and down, but rather in a wave shape), I know what some of them eat, and where some of them live, and how some of them make nests... but this all suddenly seemed very trivial compared to the single feather I had in front of me that was so secretive in my hands. What holds the individual parts of the feather together? What happens when the feather gets shredded through use? What kind of bird did this feather belong to, and how did it lose it?
Lately I've been thinking about how the different fields of science blend together... and aren't really different at all, when you get down to basics. Probably everyone knows that little saying about how biology is just applied chemistry and chemistry is just applied physics, and physics is just applied math... I say 'just' like it's easy, heh.
Brief tangent! In Astronomy yesterday, my professor said (basically) the following: "In astro, we'll look at all the forces, so we'll learn all of physics - and since chemistry is just applied physics, you'll know all of chemistry - so basically, when you're done with Astronomy you'll be so well educated you'll be obnoxious."
hehe! I thought that was pretty good.
Anyway, back to what I was talking about - lately, I've been feeling like knowledge of any one thing is worthless without knowledge of the countless other things that, in some way, apply. I don't really mean worthless in the usual sense of the word... I think that all knowledge is 'worth' something, but it's like... like playing chess without knowing the rules. It can be fun, but ultimately, you'll never gain any 'worthwhile' understanding of the game. Maybe that's a weak analogy... maybe I don't really know what I'm trying to say. I just have this overwhelming feeling that I don't know anything - and that even if I study for the rest of my life, I will never know enough.
I was talking with Pat about whether or not knowledge is finite the other day, and I said that (first of all) it depends on your definition of knowledge... If you limit knowledge to pure universe-governing rules, then yes, I think that it's possible that knowledge is finite - but on such a scale that it is rendered infinite to us, like the universe itself. (On the other hand, if you broaden your definition of knowledge, then it becomes increasingly less infinite. Like... taking derivatives. Dude. This is like calculus. WHY??)
Is this making sense? I guess what I mean to say is that while knowledge of a specific branch of science is obviously valuable, if you want to apply it to the world (like I do) you need to know so so so much more, about so many different things. Which is good, I'm looking forward to that. It's just... a little awing. And intimidating. And startling, to realize this thing that has always been true, that I suppose I knew but never really understood until now - and I don't even really understand it completely yet, I guess, I just know that it's there. I'm losing track of this idea, if I haven't already. But I still have the feather... and my brain. We'll see if it comes back with any more clarity later.

Tolstoy makes my heart want to leap out of my chest

... or at least the translation of Anna Karenina done by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. I feel like I haven't been doing the book justice by reading it in bits and pieces when I get a moment - it's so hard to stop at the end of each chapter. And the chapters are short, so it makes it easy to say 'oh, just one more... ok, one more, that's all... last one...' and not feel too guilty about it - but I digress.
I feel like I'm finally reading a book that is phenomenal in both plot and composition, and it makes me want to sing. Oof - I know that sounds corny, but it's like every emotion that the characters feel is so accurately portrayed, so convincingly conveyed that I am right there, and it doesn't matter if I agree with what's happening or fail to be able to imagine my own self in this situation because when I read it, I'm not myself anymore. It's like - when I normally read, the story takes place in my head. I see visuals and am often unconscious of actually reading words, and it all happens in my brain - I can feel it there. When I read this, it's like someone has pried open my ribcage, opened a little window in my heart, and placed the story inside. It's like I'm comprehending the story with this emotional brain that's in my chest - like I'm reading with my heart.

On the other hand, I've only read about 200 pages, and I hear that it gets horribly depressing. In fact, a terribly sad thing just happened, and it might be rough going for me if the rest of the book is like that. But for now, I'm completely entranced!

Tea and Music

are some of the most calming things ever - although I guess I would have to include kayaking (and badminton!!) in that list. I was sitting here making a list of the things that I need to get done before my astro lab (which is in about 3 hours), and, well, there's a lot of stuff that needs to happen. Looking at it all, I found myself sinking into that unfortunate pool of anxiety in which I find myself completely unable to work efficiently- but I put on some music, told iTunes to shuffle, and lo and behold, for once iTunes played just what I needed to hear! First a wind ensemble piece, and now it's playing Western One Step, which is another good piece. Lots of brass and general happiness : ). Oh! Now it's playing the English Folk Song Suite! How excellent is this?
Anyway, I felt compelled to write a short blog because I often find myself mulling over odder things on this blog... I guess because I don't usually need to think things out when I'm happy - you know? (oooo that lovely trumpet line is playing!) So today has been good. Full of things to do, but still really good. I had class from 8:30-4, which is a little rough, but the 5 hour chunk had a nice break in the middle (I took a nap on the science center lawn... and got a farmer's tan. yikes) and it's my structural geology class, which is really cool - so it's good. Then I took advantage of the recreational boating hours and took out a kayak - just me and the boat floating serenely in the middle of the lake, which I find to be incredibly peaceful... (also the vain part of me made sure I rolled up my sleeves...). Then I went to see Karel, who is wonderful, and then I came here to make my list of things to do... things which I should probably start now.

So, nothing terribly exciting in this post; just a recollection of the day instead : ).

Who are you?

Ok. This might be one of the odder things that I write on here, but it's been bothering me-
Sometimes when I'm talking to people, I get overwhelmed by the idea that really, I know nothing about them. Sure, I know some things they like, some things they dislike, maybe even their favorite color or the instrument that they play, perhaps their musical tastes... but who are they? Are my observations of their personalities different than their perceptions of themselves? For that matter, how do they perceive themselves? Who are they - to themselves? What is their mental image?
Sometimes when I'm talking to people and I just want to go "who are you? could you... describe yourself in a few sentences? Tell me about the things that make you who you are?", I restrain myself, because I'm not entirely certain that this is acceptable fodder for conversation (and I worry that casual friendships do not lend themselves to true exposure of 'self'). And then, there's this feeling that I get that I'm not supposed to have to ask - I should be able to figure it out for myself!! Through interactions, I should be able to see people for who they are. But what about when these interactions are limited? When they only happen via IM or in brief, possibly unique situations? What then?
Sigh.
I don't know... but I still want to.

There's this smell, and it's making me nervous.

At least, I think it's a smell. I'm not really sure. It's kind of like the edge of a memory - like remembering a dream: One moment there's this image in your head, and the next, your mental tentacles are grabbing at air. I have this memory of awful, depressing confusion, where I don't know what the heck I'm doing or where I'm going or any of that stuff - from last year. But now, I'm feeling little bits of it coming back! The first few days were absolutely wonderful. Then I started getting pressured about ... the rest of my LIFE. That's thing that I hate the most about Wellesley: the constant pressure to know WHO you're going to be and WHAT you're going to be doing. What if I don't want to DO anything? What if I really just want to be happy? What is 'living' anyway? (Like when people say 'live your life' - doesn't that mean go out and have experiences?) How can I experience anything at all if Wellesley is so concerned with getting me into a box so early in my life? Seriously, I feel ridiculously young. There is so much life left for me (so much and hardly any at all) - but why does 'living' have to be defined by societal standards? It seems like 'living' = 'getting a good job/marrying well/having a family', and yes, I suppose that I do one day want to have a family and be married (bleh. I hate that word. What I mean is I want to find someone to spend the rest of my life with, yes), and I would like to do good, meaningful (to me) work that I suppose would qualify as a job. But what is that? How can I know what will be meaningful without experiencing the world? I said once that what I really want to do is save the world. It's true. That's what I really, really want to do. But how? How do you go about that? I don't know. Geology? Geoscience? Environment Science? I went to my first geology class today, and when I told the professor after that I thought I might like to do Geology with an environmental focus (something new!) he was really enthusiastic and sent me to this other class (to take in conjunction) which seems really awesome, but I don't know how it's going to help me save the world.
I guess my problem is that I like instant gratification. I don't want to be sitting here feeling like I'm not doing anything, but simultaneously, anything that I could do out in the field ('out in the field') would be just as slow. I'd be doing research and comparing things and figuring out why things happen the way that they do - but I want to FIX things. I want to make them better. How do you do that? What do you study to do that? BAH!

Do you ever...

look and the mirror and go 'Oh! That's me!'? I don't mean look at a mirror and not recognize yourself for a moment (that's a potentially terrifying experience) - I mean look at yourself in the mirror and actually really mentally connect with your reflection.
I know it probably sounds really weird, but every once in a while I'll do that. Just today, in fact (which is why I'm bringing it up here), I looked in the mirror and thought that to myself. I guess it was one of those brief moments when you realize that your face has changed in some way. I think that people usually experience this right after they get a new haircut, but this, for me, today, was different.
Let me try to be coherent.

I guess the thing is that generally speaking, I don't think of myself as 'attractive'. I don't mean that to sound like I think that I'm 'UNattractive'; please don't try to reassure me - that will embarrass everyone, myself included - I just don't go around thinking that I'm the most beautiful thing walking down the street and that everyone should look at me. In fact, I don't often think about what I look like (beyond whether or not the colors I'm wearing should really be worn together), and especially not in relation to what other people think when they see me. But when I glanced at myself in the mirror today, I had this weird epiphany: my features are nice. I like them (lucky me, right!). It was more than that though - my face has changed a little bit since the last time I really looked at myself. My cheekbones are more defined, my eyes look a little bigger (I confess, I wore contacts today), and well, I just looked different. But nice.

Sometimes I write blogs and I think that I should just delete them. Who's going to read this and think it makes any sense, besides me? Speaking of people reading this, I've been pondering placing a link to it in a more public place. The thing is that I don't really know how much I want people to read it. On the other hand... why have a blog if you don't want people to read it? But on the other other hand (I'm three-handed, didn't you know?) putting it somewhere public is like putting your diary on a coffee table, whereas leaving it here is relatively unexplored cyberspace is like... like... giving your friends a bookcase of books with your diary on a shelf, and if they really want to know about you, maybe they'll look for it? That's a rather weak analogy.

Anyway, the real point of this here post was to inquire: do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and go 'Oh! That's me! Neat!' - or am I just crazy? Do you ever wonder what people think when they see your face? Obviously it's a bit like colors: Some people absolutely ADORE puce, and others detest it. Some arrangements of facial features are pleasing to some, while perhaps not-so-pleasing to others. I just want to know what people think when they see my face. Do they associate the face with the mind? Or are they two separate entities?
I imagine this would be something that is more of an issue for general relationships that transpire mostly over instant messenger (definitely more so than the telephone!).

And on the waaay other hand (oops, am I up to four now?) do I really want to know? Chances are, probably not. I'll keep to my pondering.

On Badminton

Do you like badminton a lot? Do you ever wonder why? I've been wondering lately why I love badminton so much. I was talking about it with Dan yesterday, and I said all this stuff about how it's good because you can hang out with someone and not worry about talking a lot, but that was really in reference to a hanging-out that occurred earlier in the day that was a lot of work, and very taxing on my poorly exercised conversational skills.
But really, that has nothing to do with why I love badminton. So what is it? What is it about whacking a small object back and forth that is *so* much fun?
I think that it does have a lot to do with 'hanging-out', if you will. It's very companionable, especially if you and your badminton partner are able to get a semi-decent volley going. I love volleying. You can have a conversation AND play badminton at the same time! It's so relaxing, the series of 'I hit it/you hit it/I hit it', back and forth. Not to mention, it's easy. You don't even have to whack the birdie, you really just have to tap it. Unless your playing with my dad, to win. Then you should really put some power into that swing, but anyway.
Suddenly, I feel like I'm writing one of those prompts we had to do to prepare for the CMTs. Ew.
So here's what I love about badminton: It's fun. It's easy, but it does take some skill. You get to use your reflexes. It's a companion sport. It takes place outside, unless you have a really big room. Did I mention that it's fun? It makes me laugh.

Well, yeah. Ok. So, for anyone and everyone who has ever wondered why I love badminton so much (BRENDAN), there you go. Written down! 500 words or less! (I didn't count. I don't know if I made it.)

Ballad/song/Work in progress

So, having a lot of spare time on my hands, I find myself composing silly lines - sometimes of poetry, sometimes attempted witticisms... sometimes, well, other things that I won't bore you with.
The point is, sometimes if I make myself be somewhat productive, I can get something reasonable and somewhat interesting (at least to me). This latest 'thing' isn't about anyone in particular, it's just a story. I was messing around with numbers in poems (not interesting numbers, just numbers and chronology, and well, you may not get what I was going for, but that's ok).

The first time that I saw your face
i was found - inside of space
no longer lost, without a place
that first time that I saw your face

The second time you said goodbye
i hoped that I'd learned not to cry
alas, my plan went all awry
the second time you said goodbye

The third time that you kissed my lips
i knew I'd only brushed the tip
you the iceberg, I the ship
the third time that you kissed my lips

The fourth time that I said hello
my knees betrayed me - turned jello
i hoped my voice was husky - mellow
the fourth time that I said hello

This last time though, I stand up straight
i fold my arms, lean back, and wait
you are most characteristically late
this last time, while I stand up straight

but when you arrive - and there, you do
i loose my arms, reach out for you
and hope that you'll reach for me too
when you arrive - ah, yes, you do.


Anywho, nothing spectacular, but I thought I should write it down all the same. Basically it's about some woman whose heart has been broken by some guy twice, and she's giving it a last and final go, and while she's waiting for him to show up, she's thinking about the times they had (...?). I suppose it could go on a lot longer, but frankly, I'm ready to go to bed.

(iceberg? ship? too ridiculously corny?) ah well. I think I might go back to writing poetry about trains.

Sometimes

I read xkcd and it makes me want to cry.

http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/barrel_part_5.jpg

Sometimes I read xkcd and I laugh so hard that I cry.

http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/holy_ghost.png
http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/google_maps.png

Other times I read xkcd and have no idea what the heck the guy is talking about. Then I start wondering about the man behind the comic. Well, I often wonder about the man behind the comic.

If it wasn't cloudy outside, I would be watching the meteor shower instead of reading xkcd, or watching the olympics. Although I do have to admit that I think gymnastics is beautiful.

License

I finally got my license! I have to say, I really didn't know what I was missing until I was able to get around under my own power. The privacy of the car to pump up the music as loud as you like and sing at the top of your lungs - or screech, as the case may be - or just listen to the woosh of the wind and the churning or the engine... it's peaceful. Much more peaceful than i imagined. i always figured it would be annoying, because I like to read in the car, and if you're driving then you obviously can't pull out your book and read a chapter or two, but there are other things to keep you occupied. I guess what's really nice is that the trips I've taken in the past few days are the first I've taken alone in my nearly 3 years of driving - that and also the fact that I've had 3 years of driving experience. There isn't much frightening about driving alone (I thought there would be), and I think that when I drive alone, I have more confidence. I certainly have more confidence since I got my license - it's like confirmation that I've been doing things right!
And yet, with all that said for driving alone, I'm going to go wake up my hoser brother and see if he wants to come with me to Watertown.

I write these poems

and then I leave them around my room, forgetting about them for ages until they pop up while I'm looking for something else to waylay me.
It's frustrating. But also interesting, because I think that the poems a person writes are a decidedly clear reflection of who the person is - and it's interesting to see how I have (or haven't) changed. The frustrating bit is that it seems as though as soon as I make a decision about myself, I come across one of these poems that sort of awakes this dormant part of me that I've been trying to bury.

Damn it all, I still want to go into space.

Cruising

So, back from the celebratory cruise to mexico! It was ok - not exactly what I was expecting, but certainly fun. Each day felt like an age, and so even though the whole thing was a mere 4 days, it was long enough. We stopped in Key West and Cozumel. I definitely had the most fun in Cozumel looking at the ancient Mayan ruins and driving around the island (we rented a jeep to drive around). I could write details of the entire trip, but I kept a paper journal, so that will suffice for me.

Now, I'm catching up on all of the Stargate episodes that I missed while away, since my dad is nearing the end of season 9 and I want us to watch the conclusion at the same time. I've watched so many episodes today that, even though I haven't caught up yet, I don't think that I'll be watching as many tomorrow. My dreams will most certainly be crazy tonight though, of that I am certain. Maybe I'll start breaking up the cement ponds...

Year 1 in review

So, my first year at Wellesley is over. Big sigh of relief. I didn't fail anything, and I actually got decent grades. I made some wonderful friends, but I didn't find a niche outside of the activities I engaged in. I studied some incredibly interesting things, and some not so interesting things (but mostly interesting things). I had a wonderful roommate, and I was very lonely. I learned that my time management skills suck. I was the darling of the music department (or at least Marion Dry), and then when I asked for more, I fell from grace. I met some wonderful alums, and some alums that make me wish I was not and had had never been associated with Wellesley. I spent a lot of time in my room. My sleep schedule went crazy. I did too much. I didn't do enough. I didn't meet any potential love interests. Mr Darcy still only resides within the pages of P&P. I didn't read more than 2 books for pleasure, if that many. I missed my family. I cried a lot.

Yeah. Wellesley isn't sitting too well in my memory right now.

Frustrated.

I don't know why. I just am. I can't find what I'm looking for, I can't decide if Wellesley is the right place for me, I can't figure out what I want. Don't know what I want to do, don't know what I'm good at, don't know where I should be or who I should be with. I get frustrated with people who can't let go of their immature prejudices.

I'm not tired of home, and I definitely don't want to go back to Wellesley yet. But I am tired. And cranky.

Almost Done

I can hardly believe that my first year of college is almost over. What happened to time moving so slowly I could hardly stand it? Which is not to say that time has ever moved so slowly I could hardly stand it. I'm actually very time-conscious. I'm very conscious of my own mortality, and of everyone else's mortality.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm in school.

Here's what I've got left at this point:

1 major paper revision for primates
1 major paper revision for hildegard
1 calculus final
1 physics final

I'm so close.

Not directed at anyone in particular

I'm going to step out of my skin and show you my bones,
drenched in my blood, my sweat, my tears
bones that, even bleached white by an unforgiving sun, will gleam with my essence because they are my core.

I'm going to step out of my skin and show you my bones, and you had better not flinch when I do because YOU have made me what I am.

I'm going to step out of my skin and show you my bones because I want there to be no more pretenses and no more lies. I want there to be nothing between me and the truth because the truth all of the time has got to be better than these half-truths, these simplifications, these lies.

I want you to step out of your skin and dance in your bones with me. I want the world to shake off this thing cloaking our beings and I want us to Be.

Can we just be, please? Be in our Bones?

Age?

I'm really tired.
I just got home for spring break, and I'm sad to not be at Wellesley.
-What?-
I know. Ridiculous. I'm definitely happy to be home though, although somewhat disappointed by the fact that it isn't a week at home, it's half a week in Florida and then a few days at home.
Sadly, I have a feeling that I'll be doing most of my homework in Florida. Simply because I won't have internet/anything to do. Isn't that funny? At least, ironic.

Honestly, I'm really bothered by something that someone said to me today... an implication that I don't act my age, or that the way that I act is less than mature - and wrong. Why? Because I get excited at interesting things? That I find the world amazing? It's true, that does make me more akin to a 4 year old than a 25 year old in this society, but, honestly, why is that? It's because the 25 year old stops taking joy in his/her surroundings because s/he's seen it all before. Why do I have to be like that in order to be considered mature? I handle situations beyond my 18 (or... 4) years with just as much, if not more, maturity than the next adult, while continuing to enjoy the world.

Man, I guess I'm just an awkward mix of 4 year old and 18 year old.

Darn.

Train

churning underneath
      like pedal tones to life
storm clouds
   rain crying across the windows
   gray-green hills rolling by me
             I stand still.
                     Watching.
           I wonder if the people know their lives are [passing] by my train.
        rushing.
          [chugging].
             leaping.
                Joyfully to an end.
  Rain crying on the windows
  Tears raining on my cheeks.
                        Endings.
My train
          -stands still-
gray-green clouds I'm underwater sunlight burns above the surface beams of light rebound above but clouds too dense for [penetration] keep the song from being heard and so
                    I ride the train.
  and the world goes on without me.
            chugging.
pedal tones to life.




[ ] denote words that I'm not exactly 100% happy with yet.



So, this is a song that I'm writing/that I've been writing for years. It's a piano composition that I've never been able to put onto paper because it keeps changing... but the basis of it always remains the same. The core of the piece never changes; the beginning is always the same. The notes for the sunlight are always the same. The image is always the same. My piano teacher told me that before I could write a piece of music, I had to visualize it. My image was this girl on a train, looking out a window at the world. It's cloudy out, and raining, and the country-side is passing her by - not the train passing the country by. It's the rain that gives it this feeling, rather than anything else. I don't know why it finally came out of me today - maybe it's the weather? But here it is. The text/poem above is my piece in words. Maybe this means that someday soon I'll be able to put the music on paper too.

P.S. Thanks to anita for "& n b s p" to make the formatting work out. even though it meant that I had to copy/paste like, 10,000 times. At least it looks mostly the way that I want it to!

P.P.S. I'm not depressed.

Dear Andrew

This post is just for you. Which is to say... it is not for me. Because that is the only other person it could possibly be for. Right now my computer is going really slowly, so I'm typing faster than the words are appearing on the screen, which is really neat! Like ... maids! and me! hah!

That's all I got. I can't think and type and watch the words all at once. This is like brain overload! What's really funny is when I make a typo, and I know that I've made a typo, but I can't see it, so I try to remember exactly how many spaces I should delete to fix it... sometimes I'm right, sometimes I'm not. What would be really good would be to write a whole blog in this manner, and then not fix anything. Or I suppose I could just blindfold myself. That would give the same effect. So as I type this, my computer is writing "whole" as in "whole blog". I could just type the same thing over and over again. I don't know what it's writing now, it's been so long that I can't even remember. hahaha

ok well, I think that's all. Tonight I have to finish a book (40 more pages to go) and make an outline for my next paper for the class for which I am reading the book. Then I have to do some calc homework. So I could add here that I'm eternally grateful to you for agreeing to help me. I will also say that I am rather shameless in my use of chicken curry, and part of my reason for bringing so much with me was totally so that I could bribe people.
hehe

Well, now I'm going to sit back and watch my compute finish talking ! yay!

That's all!

Most sincerely,
Nooreen

P.S. That was kind of excellent.

Things I should Avoid:

1. Taking myself too seriously.
2. Taking you too seriously.

tee hee

Tonight

I walked home in the silent chill of winter after a day that had resounded with the harmonic winds of spring.

I'm waiting.

Looking Up!

I see the sky! And clouds! And trees! And maybe my future, looking up too! Crazy, eh?

Life has been much better lately. I've made more friends, been to 3 parties in one weekend, and run a marathon all in one weekend!

Ok, well, the marathon was in my dreams. Literally. And it absolutely positively exhausted me, but it was interesting. I love remembering my dreams.

On Friday, I went to see Pam Melroy (my hero!) speak at Wellesley - she was great! I even got my picture taken with her :D

I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty delighted. I don't remember the other woman's name, she's an astronaut too - but she wasn't as nice as Pam.
Funny how I'm taller than both of them : P

At the lecture, I got up to ask a question (I was waiting in the balcony) and they couldn't find me when I started talking - it was hilarious. All the people up there with me started yelling "up here!" which was really nice!

That's all I have to say. Sorry for this atrociously written post, but my head hurts after my marathon dream and I think I'm going to take a nap.

I haven't cried this much in years.

So, I'm homesick. Again.

Surprise.

It's not that I don't like Wellesley... it's more like, I think Wellesley is pretty ok. But it's not home. My family isn't here, my dogs aren't here, my plants aren't here... which my be stupid, but that's what homesickness is all about.

I'm terrified that something will happen to my family while I'm away.

I wonder if this will keep me from going abroad...

I just want to go home.
But, Greg is right. My future is here, and elsewhere.

I hate a future without my family.

Keys to my dream?

I talked to my aunt on the phone just now, and took notes in this blog thing because that was what was open. She interprets dreams, and that long crazy one that I had was kind of bugging me, so I asked her about it. This is what she had to say:

dark- don't know what's going on
outhouse - emotions
not going to the outhouse/refusing to cut the line- not expressing emotions
parents- safeguards, authority (telling me not to have a boyfriend right now)
his parents- also against it, again my authority, who's guarding the gates to nooreen?
bathroom- emotions
water in tub- clean; can't deal with emotions, but things are still good, good things coming, someone inside me who won't let me deal with emotions
nakedness- not afraid of expressing emotions
old (wise) woman- fairy godmother, cover yourself up, don't worry, things are going to work out ok
who is the fiance? something that i want to do that the gatekeepers say no about. security figures are what's in you that hold you back and won't let you do what you want to do.

Anyone care to take a crack?
I feel like the part where I'm waiting in the dark is most important... because I'm waiting passively. I'm not afraid, and I know that someone is coming - the someone ending up being my fiance. Which represents... what? I don't know.

I guess I'm going crazy.

How Odd

I just googled 'runemahogany' and a ton of things came up that I thought were totally secret. How weird.
Nothing I'm ashamed of, but still. I guess I should use different screennames, huh? haha
I just worry that I'll forget them or something though...

So I know that this is my third post today, but I just want to say that I love my pseudobrother. I went all philosophical and slightly crazed on him, and he was all 'it's cool, don't worry, be happy,' and he calmed me down. Good stuff.

It's just... I'm terrified by my own mortality. Scared witless at the knowledge of everyone else's mortality. It's like, what the heck are you supposed to do with 80 years? I mean, yeah, you can do a lot, but if you've only got so much time, then why are there such set, stupid, pointless things that we "have" to do?

And then you look at the people who try to prevent the happiness of others, people who don't care about the future, people who don't care about each other, and all I can say is 'why?'

Everyone should see Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Be excellent to each other.

Friends are Fun!

So, I was going to post this long comment on Heather's blog, and then I realized that um, I have my OWN blog for this sort of thing.

Yesterday, Pat and Mick came to visit! We had a great time, just hanging out playing Mario Party on the Wii, and ending with some Rock Band. It was really nice to see both of them, although Luna was really not thrilled to see Mick. She was more scared than I've ever seen her, hiding under the table and whining. It was so weird! And really sad. My poor bean, scared of a big bearded guy. She's so adorable, never growling at ANYONE (I heard her growl probably twice in her sleep... I wonder what she dreamt of that made her do it?) and she's never ever bit anyone. She nibbles though! haha
Anyway, I digress!
Last night mom and I went out to have dinner with SBP, Celina, their mom, Celina's friend Emily, Celina's friend Emily's mom, and Elsa. It was a lot fun :D and we tried to go bowling after, but the bowling ally was completely full! (who wudda thunk it?) So, mom and I went home and we watched Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, which was, obviously, Excellent.
Then, today, we took a bunch of collected recyclables to the recycling station for the music boosters, and a bunch of the band members came after with cans and bottles they collected today, so I got to see some of my trumpet boys :D. Man, I miss that kind of camaraderie, and them.
After that, we went to Costco, and lo and behold, we ran into Andrew Francis and his dad! Yesterday or the day before I asked my dad if he had heard from then recently... Mr Francis is so nice, and it was just really cool to see them. Andrew, a guy who gave me the middle finger in first grade or kindergarten (hahaha) but who I got to be friends with later.
Overall, it's been a nice couple of days : )
We might go see Cloverfield tonight... we shall see!

A Crazy Dream

Last night/this morning I had this ridiculously long dream, and I feel like I should record it. Maybe this should be where I write down my dreams? I don't know... most of my dreams are really weird! haha
Anyway... There's a lot that I don't really remember exactly, so I hope that if you read this, you'll bear with me (and when I come back to look over old posts, I'll be able to remember my dream!).
Here it goes:
It started out with me someplace cold and dark (I want to say Alaska? or a pole?), and I had no way of getting out of there - but I wasn't worried about it. I was just waiting for someone or something... anyway, I guess they came because the next thing I remember is being on some sort of caravan that was sort of a cross between the middle ages and the old south. We stopped at a 'rest stop' - that is to say, a set of out-houses... I was in line behind a whole bunch of maids, and one of them said "We're going to be here for days!" very resignedly, and I knew it was somehow true. Then a maid came up to me and I realized that I wasn't a maid myself... I was wearing this really pretty deep red dress (not any of those 'little red dresses' or anything; this was a real dress - yes, as opposed to a fake one) and she told me to follow her. I thought she was going to take me to the front of the line (which really wasn't all that long, so now that I think about it, maybe the maid didn't mean we'd be there for days because of the out-house line...) and I was really loathe to use my position to get ahead of all these other women, but the maid told me it was urgent, so I followed her to this building that was behind the out-houses, when she told me to go into. I walked into this large, very decorated room (I seem to recall tapestries and stuff, but it was very bright, very my image of old south... but still with that weird middle ages flair) and then this guy appeared - not 'appeared', more like, caught my attention whereas before I had only noticed the room. Somehow I knew him, and somehow I knew that we were either 'courting' or engaged... anyway, he talked to me for a minute, and then he warned that he wasn't the reason I was in this room - my father had come to see me (???). Then he sort of melted into a drapery or something, and my father walked into the room. (Quickly... In this dream, I didn't look like myself, and my 'father' in the dream was not my dad in real life.) He had a sort of handlebar mustache and a hat, and he seemed very gray in that his clothing was dark, his hair was gray and his hat was gray. I think. Maybe not. Hmm. He sat down on a couch and told me to stand in front of him (like he was going to lecture me) and then he proceeded to tell me that this wasn't a good match, that the guy was all wrong for me, he didn't suit my position, etc. I don't really remember what he said, but he really didn't like the guy. I don't know if I said anything... I think I probably told him that I disagreed and that I felt the guy was perfect and that I was ...going to meet his parents? That last part's a guess because the next thing that I remember, we (that is to say, the guy and I) are at this old southern farm that is somehow stuck in the middle of a suburb. There was a big yellow dome thing - I can't remember what they're called : ( - with a dragon painting attached to it - unfinished, like the one in my room. It looked like the dragon was trying to get into the thing. We went into the main house, and I looked around a little while he was talking to his parents. It looked a lot like my aunt and uncle Diana and Chris' house... they had a gorgeous piano, with ivory keys and mother of pearl designs added, it was really lovely. Then I went back and talked to them, and it was abundantly clear that they didn't like me and didn't approve, and the guy was really upset with them for being so rude to me. I had asked for a bathroom so that I could take a bath and get cleaned up, and apparently they were really rude because they didn't send a servant to show me the way. I found the bathroom fine on my own, and there was something about it that really upset me (because it showed how much they didn't like me) but I took a bath, and then there were no towels... so somehow I felt it would be fine to wander around naked (but I wasn't embarrassed or anything... in the dream it was the perfectly natural thing to do) and in my naked wanderings I came across some really disturbing things, like a whole series of empty cages, weird signs, and a spinny thing in the floor... then this old woman found me and gave me a towel and apologized for the meanness of her owners - at this point I realized what was going on... the guy's parents were slave traders! But she assured me that the guy only kept in his parent's good graces so that he would inherit the 'farm' and so that he could free everyone. Then the really nice old woman showed me back to the bathroom, and I woke up.

Weird, eh?

Golden

YES!!!! IT'S FINALLY DONE!!!!
After probably a good year of preparation and 5(?) months of work, IT'S DONE.
This baby is ALL MINE:
How beautiful. hahahaha
Can I just tell you how I despised the thing? Absolutely hated it. All the work, all the stress... here is a brief history of my gold award:

My project was to make a book of labs for kids in low level science classes who are simply not interested in science. Granted, there are some kids who just can't do science, but that doesn't mean they can't be interested! Why shouldn't there be labs written to garner their interest? WHY I ask you! I was teacher's aid in a low level science class for a good part of my junior year, and when they were boiling water, even I was bored - but when they got to play with acid, gee whiz did that ever spark their interest! So... after much deliberation, that was what I decided I would do for my project.

Guess what my adviser said when I told her. Nope, you're wrong, sorry.
Lenore: "Oh, well, um... I'm not much of a science person."
Hello? Did you not read my proposal? Why didn't I get a "science person" as my adviser? Anyway, she got over it.

I spent much of the summer doing research and struggling to write labs that would be both informative and interesting without being preachy, all the while suffering under the heavy hand of lyme disease. How was I supposed to know?! The one time that I "had" lyme, it turned out I had been twisting a bottle cap unconsciously on my leg, creating the bulls eye... whoops.

Anyway, 2 months of bone crushing exhaustion and not a heck of a lot of enthusiasm later, I was diagnosed and medicated. 2 weeks later, I arrived at Wellesley, still sick, still medicated, and still half-heartedly working. I went home nearly every weekend in September to work, to experiment, and to reassure my mom (she's my leader too) that I was still going to do it (the thing was due the 1st of October), and in mid September, I ran the labs with a group of friends still in high school.

What do you know... they liked them! Of course everyone's favorite was the 'Why do Volcanoes Erupt?" lab... surprise surprise, haha

Anyway, last night I had my final review. This is a panel of women from the Girl Scout CT Council who sit in a circle with you right in front and ask you questions about your motives, your methods, and results. Essentially. For some reason, I do pretty well at interviews though, and even though I was expecting them to give me a hard time (girl scouting is all about service rather than leadership, and someone once told me that my project wasn't going to go over well because I wouldn't be running it in a classroom), they laughed at my jokes, patted me on the back, took my picture, and signed my certificate.

Voila!
Those are gold sparkles.
Get it? hahahaha


Doneskies.
87+ hours of stress later, I am part of the 5% of Girl Scouts who go for the gold. How weird is that?

Also... sorry about the forgotten hilarity. I can't remember what I was going to write about... I just remember that it was funny. Too bad for you. Tee Hee!