On women:
My pursuit of a wife might strike you as a bit of objectification, but I'd like to argue that it's quite the contrary. The reason I worry about it so is that I realize when one gets older, the amount of time spent outside of work with other adults rapidly diminishes. Your interactions are mainly limited to coworkers without children and whomever you happen to meet at some shady bar every Friday night while you're crying yourself to peanuts, getting drunk on sleep. Or... yeah. I'd like to at least have someone with me whose company I really enjoy, who'll make every day that much more interesting so my time not at work doesn't rapidly dissolve into existential anguish. I'm not saying it necessarily will, but I know myself, and I know I do better when I'm not alone. Having a partner-in-crime who matches my sense of humor, imagination, nonjudgmental ethics, and oh so sexyness would be truly wonderful.
On Math:
Some of you might be a tad confused as to why I dropped Mathematics. It's really not too terribly surprising, but then you've not been in my head for...um... ever, so you might be a bit taken aback. You see, the reason I like Math is that it makes sense. Math is objective, you're either right or wrong. Not only that, but Math is generally simple in its objectivity. You have to know a few methods and formulas, but you don't have to worry about all sorts of tricks and exceptions like you might in science and language. You also don't have to know a lot, like you would in history. It's comforting, something you can always rely on. There's a sense of safety and surety when you perform a math problem and you fully understand every aspect of it to the point you're certain it is 100% correct. Math would be easy to teach, too. The curriculum is always the same, it's laid out for you, you just have to spit it back at the kids and spit in creative ways until it gets in their heads. Er... did I just use making out as a metaphor for teaching Math? You bet I did! See, it's even sexy!
However, Math just isn't that useful. Everyone has to write/communicate, no matter what they do. Realistically, though, Math just isn't needed for most people. Mr. Petko is infamous for his "Math is urrywer," and he's partially right. But, for instance, physics literally is everywhere, yet most people couldn't tell you why a ramp makes it easier to move something. Math is in a lot of places, but most people really don't need to know much past Algebra. For certain professions, sure, but for most people?
English, done right, is an amalgamation of writing/reading/philsophy/ethics/creative impetus. You've got lots of wiggle room and can justify doing just about anything in the name of education. It's just more... comprehensive. More likely to bring fulfilment.
Anyway, that's all that comes to mind at the moment. If you want a better explanation IM/email me and I'll be glad to comply.
Sunday, October 2
How bout them... Rebels?
I went back to West Friday night for their Homecoming game. Kinda interesting how things can change from one year to the next. Gone were the cheerleaders semi-interesting signs about beating the other team. Instead, we get solid advertisements. The band even had to go back to play part of the third quarter instead of just being dismissed after halftime. But plenty stayed the same.
I tried to catch up with as many people as offered themselves, but I think I was a tad deficient in that particular regard. At any rate, it was nice to hear that the Cardboard Club is continuing, even if it is just a small, pitiful little thing. It was nice to see Bonnie and Meredith and Laura (who looked great in her homecoming regalia, along with 80s reject Ian), although I didn't talk to them too much. I guess they know where to find me already ;). I talked quite a bit to Katheryn, and it made me miss all the carefree days of band shenanigans that seem too long ago. Another instance of the "don't know what you miss until you remember what you had." It was nice, though, to talk to everyone. Of course Cory was there too, but Cory hardly ever talks to anyone other than me anyway.
Oh, I've also pretty much decided to drop my Math major. Numerous reasons, including the new revelation by Mrs. Jackson that if you're certified to teach Math, they'll never let you teach anything else because math teachers are so needed. I certainly don't want to only teach Math, but I could stand only teaching English, so that's the route I'm looking at. Of course, the "English major only" thing is scary in terms of employment, so if I can I'd like to double major in something else. At the moment Sociology looks like a good candidate. It appears they're doing preliminaries for AP Sociology, which should be ready around the time I graduate with my masters (ideally). That means there would be a demand for someone to teach the class, but also a demand for someone certified to teach other courses as well. Ideally, of course. It's exciting just thinking about it.
Oh, by the way, I shouldn't worry since my roommate's only had four shots. He's fine. Really.
*would cry self to sleep, but couldn't due to all the yelling*
I tried to catch up with as many people as offered themselves, but I think I was a tad deficient in that particular regard. At any rate, it was nice to hear that the Cardboard Club is continuing, even if it is just a small, pitiful little thing. It was nice to see Bonnie and Meredith and Laura (who looked great in her homecoming regalia, along with 80s reject Ian), although I didn't talk to them too much. I guess they know where to find me already ;). I talked quite a bit to Katheryn, and it made me miss all the carefree days of band shenanigans that seem too long ago. Another instance of the "don't know what you miss until you remember what you had." It was nice, though, to talk to everyone. Of course Cory was there too, but Cory hardly ever talks to anyone other than me anyway.
Oh, I've also pretty much decided to drop my Math major. Numerous reasons, including the new revelation by Mrs. Jackson that if you're certified to teach Math, they'll never let you teach anything else because math teachers are so needed. I certainly don't want to only teach Math, but I could stand only teaching English, so that's the route I'm looking at. Of course, the "English major only" thing is scary in terms of employment, so if I can I'd like to double major in something else. At the moment Sociology looks like a good candidate. It appears they're doing preliminaries for AP Sociology, which should be ready around the time I graduate with my masters (ideally). That means there would be a demand for someone to teach the class, but also a demand for someone certified to teach other courses as well. Ideally, of course. It's exciting just thinking about it.
Oh, by the way, I shouldn't worry since my roommate's only had four shots. He's fine. Really.
*would cry self to sleep, but couldn't due to all the yelling*
Thursday, September 29
Girl Culture
No, I don't mean yeast infections (sorry, had to do it). I mean that I went to a lecture by Lauren Greenfield about her exhibition of photography called Girl Culture. It was fascinating to me, as most personal, revealing works are (more on it later), but it also spurred my thinking on women and the way I view them. It's just a recent development that I've become noticeably superficial. As I was thinking about it, I remembered that I didn't start analyzing superficially until this summer when I was in Virginia. Partially as a result of my isolation from others my age and partially because I was bored, I began to evaluate appearances just to see if I could tell whether I found someone physically appealing or not. Since then the habit has stuck. I've been doing it fairly consistently, and I really think it needs to stop. I need to stop thinking of girls as girls in lieu of just "other people." It's like some mental segregation in mind, and after thinking on it I've decided I don't like it. Even if it may have heightened my senses in the search for a love/lust interest, I've found that sort of thing isn't too terribly important, at least to the point where I'd actively seek it out.
I also began thinking about my subconscious desire to be recognized/famous. This needs to stop. It's been sneaking up on me after I expelled it awhile ago, and it's made me start feeling rather worthless and inferior. One of the entire points of 18 was to commemorate the regular individual, and as I also learned in 18 most people aren't really going to be concerned with your activities that don't directly involve them, especially to the extent you'd desire. I don't need to be famous, I don't need to be recognized, and I certainly don't need to be better than anyone else. I need to be happy, I need to enjoy my life, I need to help others do both of those along with me, and that is absolutely it. Ok self?
So, mental checklist: Stop thinking of girls as girls and stop thinking of self as needing to assert worth/superiority.
At any rate, Mrs. Greenfield's exhibit was fairly interesting. It was sickening, to see the rampant superificiality and materialism. The pictures of the anorexic models/younger girls made me squirm in my seat in disgust. I also found it disheartening to hear about a girl on a college track team who got thrown off her team for stripping (the way she had to pay her way through college). The way they found out she was a stripper was when the school's entire football team came in as patrons and revealed her position. Pretty sick, eh?
I was fortunate enough to ask Mrs. Greenfield, who appeared to be a pretty intelligent, witty woman a question. I asked "In our society it seems like sexuality is really taboo, in terms of TV, movies, and video games, especially compared to violence, and yet in your work and our culture it seems to run rampant. How do you think it's possible that these two coexist?" She responded, laughing, "Oh, a hard one for my last question. I don't know. I guess I'd better take another question." I was rather disappointed. I thought someone who'd spent so much time investigating this culture of sexuality might have some insight into how it exists inside a society that aims to crush it. Ah well.
I also began thinking about my subconscious desire to be recognized/famous. This needs to stop. It's been sneaking up on me after I expelled it awhile ago, and it's made me start feeling rather worthless and inferior. One of the entire points of 18 was to commemorate the regular individual, and as I also learned in 18 most people aren't really going to be concerned with your activities that don't directly involve them, especially to the extent you'd desire. I don't need to be famous, I don't need to be recognized, and I certainly don't need to be better than anyone else. I need to be happy, I need to enjoy my life, I need to help others do both of those along with me, and that is absolutely it. Ok self?
So, mental checklist: Stop thinking of girls as girls and stop thinking of self as needing to assert worth/superiority.
At any rate, Mrs. Greenfield's exhibit was fairly interesting. It was sickening, to see the rampant superificiality and materialism. The pictures of the anorexic models/younger girls made me squirm in my seat in disgust. I also found it disheartening to hear about a girl on a college track team who got thrown off her team for stripping (the way she had to pay her way through college). The way they found out she was a stripper was when the school's entire football team came in as patrons and revealed her position. Pretty sick, eh?
I was fortunate enough to ask Mrs. Greenfield, who appeared to be a pretty intelligent, witty woman a question. I asked "In our society it seems like sexuality is really taboo, in terms of TV, movies, and video games, especially compared to violence, and yet in your work and our culture it seems to run rampant. How do you think it's possible that these two coexist?" She responded, laughing, "Oh, a hard one for my last question. I don't know. I guess I'd better take another question." I was rather disappointed. I thought someone who'd spent so much time investigating this culture of sexuality might have some insight into how it exists inside a society that aims to crush it. Ah well.
Wednesday, September 28
I went tutoring again at the elementary school today. It's a regular lesson in child psychology. It was kind of sad, too. They were all so... competitive. It seemed like they didn't really have friends, just competitors. Many of them had really bad attitudes, of course they wouldn't listen to us, and there was even a little alpha male with a tiny gang that picked fights. And these kids are like 9. *sigh*
The good news is that when they got some 1 on 1 attention they were pretty motivated to read/work. But it takes a lot of doing. I have no idea how elementary school teachers can work 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, fo 30 years. It's astonishing.
The good news is that when they got some 1 on 1 attention they were pretty motivated to read/work. But it takes a lot of doing. I have no idea how elementary school teachers can work 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, fo 30 years. It's astonishing.
Tuesday, September 27
Do you ever feel truly alone, no matter how much evidence there is to the contrary? Of course you do. It's odd, isn't it? I sort of feel like this feeling and I will get well acquainted as the years go on. I look ahead, to me teaching, and see someone alone. I don't really forsee a wife, not now, not for me. Possible? Certainly. But I'd say there's at least 60-40 odds to the contrary.
But it's more than that. I see myself, and many adults, as people who go to work, come home, live truly, if not literally, alone, and then repeat ad nauseam. It's not bad, per se. It's just sort of... tragic. How part of our lives can be so full, and yet there are these periods where we can't help but be empty. It's peaceful, in a sorrowful way.
If I come to be a teacher, living alone, I see myself having this feeling. The best way to describe it is a sad smile. The smile you flash when you're trying to fake happiness, but no one's fooled. Not even yourself.
Romanticizing, certainly. And I do think I can be happy, if all goes according to plan. But things have a habit of not following plans, no matter how they're accorded. And the greater the deviation, the more the smile is feigned.
But it's more than that. I see myself, and many adults, as people who go to work, come home, live truly, if not literally, alone, and then repeat ad nauseam. It's not bad, per se. It's just sort of... tragic. How part of our lives can be so full, and yet there are these periods where we can't help but be empty. It's peaceful, in a sorrowful way.
If I come to be a teacher, living alone, I see myself having this feeling. The best way to describe it is a sad smile. The smile you flash when you're trying to fake happiness, but no one's fooled. Not even yourself.
Romanticizing, certainly. And I do think I can be happy, if all goes according to plan. But things have a habit of not following plans, no matter how they're accorded. And the greater the deviation, the more the smile is feigned.
Thursday, September 22
Addendum
(In response/continuation of the below post. Might want to read the other first, but I doubt you'd be missing much.)
I confuse myself. It's why I add that little disclaimer of "how I feel at the moment", because as soon as I write something I consider "definitive" down, I think back over it and figure out how wrong it is. Or how wrong it might be.
In this particular instance, I remember that I'm not too keen on some of the ideas involved in a relationship. The responsibility, the lack of freedom, the general awkwardness. My mood swings only compound the problem, and I'd wager that opening up my "emotional box" again might just cause the fluctuation to become significantly more dynamic. At the moment, I'm at a fairly constant gray/apathy. It goes up to minor carefree euphoria and down to briefly suicidal stress/depression, but they're both still innately gray emotions.
There's an interesting thing about me and caring. When I care about something, I tend to connect to it and really care about it. I suppose it's true for most people. For instance, when I watch a Tennessee football game and care if they win, I really get into it. I jump up and cheer, get anxious, and become rather depressed when things don't go "as planned."
I also really care about keeping my scholarship and getting a job as a teacher. Hence, I get really stressed over school and nervous when I think of all the ways I can lose my future, imaginary job. You can imagine how I'd react when I really cared about a volatile, unpredictable, frustrating person.
I know I've mentioned it before, but I don't handle passion well. Anger, especially. When I get really angry, I cry. I get choked up, to the point where I can't speak. I shake constantly (like I do whenever I have to perform unmedicated in front of a group). Emotion is a dangerous thing for me. It can potentially lead to a constant euphoria or an abysmal decent into crippling depression. So I guess that's what it comes down to. Do I want my constant contentment? Or do I want to take a risk?
I guess right now, I'd prefer the contentment over a risk. I look for an impossibility, a "sure thing", so that I can tell myself "Well, I don't really want/need it anyway" when I obviously can't find it. So, the further the deviance from the ideal, the greater the risk. And, right now, I'm not much of a risk taker.
But who knows? I'm likely to change any minute. This may lead you to wonder why, given the admittedly temporary quality of my mindsets, do I bother writing about them? Well, that's what this blog is partially for, a record of my psyche. I could care less what I did today, especially if it was trivial (as most things are). But being able to come back and look at my frame of mind/past viewpoints and observe how I've changed, that's valuable. It might even help me to understand my students, assuming I keep my job long enough to forget what being a teenager is like.
At this point I'm tempted to make self-deprecatory comments to lessen the risk of exposing my real thoughts. But honestly, I don't judge any of you, so I'd like to think that the "people who matter don't mind," as it were. I'd also like more perspective, to know how others feel and view me and themselves, in this regard and in all others. I might be offended/indignant, but I'll get over it and be better off for it. After all, this whole tirade started because my sister said something I thought was completely preposterous.
In the words of that saint among saints Ryan North, "I guess there is a lesson here FOR US ALL!"
I confuse myself. It's why I add that little disclaimer of "how I feel at the moment", because as soon as I write something I consider "definitive" down, I think back over it and figure out how wrong it is. Or how wrong it might be.
In this particular instance, I remember that I'm not too keen on some of the ideas involved in a relationship. The responsibility, the lack of freedom, the general awkwardness. My mood swings only compound the problem, and I'd wager that opening up my "emotional box" again might just cause the fluctuation to become significantly more dynamic. At the moment, I'm at a fairly constant gray/apathy. It goes up to minor carefree euphoria and down to briefly suicidal stress/depression, but they're both still innately gray emotions.
There's an interesting thing about me and caring. When I care about something, I tend to connect to it and really care about it. I suppose it's true for most people. For instance, when I watch a Tennessee football game and care if they win, I really get into it. I jump up and cheer, get anxious, and become rather depressed when things don't go "as planned."
I also really care about keeping my scholarship and getting a job as a teacher. Hence, I get really stressed over school and nervous when I think of all the ways I can lose my future, imaginary job. You can imagine how I'd react when I really cared about a volatile, unpredictable, frustrating person.
I know I've mentioned it before, but I don't handle passion well. Anger, especially. When I get really angry, I cry. I get choked up, to the point where I can't speak. I shake constantly (like I do whenever I have to perform unmedicated in front of a group). Emotion is a dangerous thing for me. It can potentially lead to a constant euphoria or an abysmal decent into crippling depression. So I guess that's what it comes down to. Do I want my constant contentment? Or do I want to take a risk?
I guess right now, I'd prefer the contentment over a risk. I look for an impossibility, a "sure thing", so that I can tell myself "Well, I don't really want/need it anyway" when I obviously can't find it. So, the further the deviance from the ideal, the greater the risk. And, right now, I'm not much of a risk taker.
But who knows? I'm likely to change any minute. This may lead you to wonder why, given the admittedly temporary quality of my mindsets, do I bother writing about them? Well, that's what this blog is partially for, a record of my psyche. I could care less what I did today, especially if it was trivial (as most things are). But being able to come back and look at my frame of mind/past viewpoints and observe how I've changed, that's valuable. It might even help me to understand my students, assuming I keep my job long enough to forget what being a teenager is like.
At this point I'm tempted to make self-deprecatory comments to lessen the risk of exposing my real thoughts. But honestly, I don't judge any of you, so I'd like to think that the "people who matter don't mind," as it were. I'd also like more perspective, to know how others feel and view me and themselves, in this regard and in all others. I might be offended/indignant, but I'll get over it and be better off for it. After all, this whole tirade started because my sister said something I thought was completely preposterous.
In the words of that saint among saints Ryan North, "I guess there is a lesson here FOR US ALL!"
Female Imagination
A few weeks ago, my sister and I went to see Macbeth. It was rather odd because my sister and I don't really do things with each other. I'm very... guarded around my family, whereas with anyone else I'm at least marginally comfortable with I'll tell them practically anything about myself. I don't really know them, and I don't really think they know me. I guess it's just easier.
Anyway, we walking back from the play and for some reason my sister said that I'm one of the most superificial people she knows. I was rather indignant. She said I have "impossible standards", wanting someone who's pretty and has a good personality. Of course, what person doesn't? Not to mention that, from what I've gathered, my definition of "pretty" is a fair bit below the "norm." For me, someone's personality has a very significant effect on the way I perceive them, and thus see their physical form.
But lately I've begun to doubt this. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe my standards are too high. I've consoled myself by saying that I haven't met anyone with the right personality, but honestly does such a thing exist? I've thought about what I'd want, and, as egotistical as it sounds, I sort of want a female clone of myself.
I guess that's to be expected, since I'm pretty much the person I want to be, so my "ideal" is around myself. I could tolerate neglible deviations, such as taste in music, hobbies, political/spiritual views (as long as she didn't think I was going to Hell). But I sort of want a... complement. Someone who not only goes along with my errant madness, but adds to it and builds upon it in a way that makes us both laugh. Someone who's not concerned with who's doing whom how often, unless one of the parties involved wants/needs to talk about it. Someone who doesn't judge other people as long as they don't harm others. Someone passionate, but patient.
She wouldn't have to be very "feminine", as long as she didn't mind my lack of "masculinity." She wouldn't have to be very thin, as long as she wasn't noticeably obese. Height and breast size don't matter. She'd just need to have nice hair, preferably longer (although as long as it's not boy short I could probably stand it), and a pretty face. That's the worst part, the face. That's where the worst superficiality comes in. It's something that a person can't help. Something I can't define. Something one either passes or fails with no warning and no explanation other than "that's the way things are."
All and all, that seems to be where I stand. At the moment. I don't know my mind well enough to know if that's really how I feel. But it's how I think I feel. Is it impossible? No. Improbable? It seems like it. And I guess, at this point, most people would lower their standards. Most people would "make do." But I don't want to make do. I don't need to make do. I can go my entire life not dating once and still be happy. I could be happier, I could be more adequately "fulfilled", but I can do with solitude. So I keep my unrealistic, superifical standards, knowing that even if I found someone to meet them, I would self-destruct the realtionship in due time.
What's a poor, egotistical jerk to do?
Anyway, we walking back from the play and for some reason my sister said that I'm one of the most superificial people she knows. I was rather indignant. She said I have "impossible standards", wanting someone who's pretty and has a good personality. Of course, what person doesn't? Not to mention that, from what I've gathered, my definition of "pretty" is a fair bit below the "norm." For me, someone's personality has a very significant effect on the way I perceive them, and thus see their physical form.
But lately I've begun to doubt this. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe my standards are too high. I've consoled myself by saying that I haven't met anyone with the right personality, but honestly does such a thing exist? I've thought about what I'd want, and, as egotistical as it sounds, I sort of want a female clone of myself.
I guess that's to be expected, since I'm pretty much the person I want to be, so my "ideal" is around myself. I could tolerate neglible deviations, such as taste in music, hobbies, political/spiritual views (as long as she didn't think I was going to Hell). But I sort of want a... complement. Someone who not only goes along with my errant madness, but adds to it and builds upon it in a way that makes us both laugh. Someone who's not concerned with who's doing whom how often, unless one of the parties involved wants/needs to talk about it. Someone who doesn't judge other people as long as they don't harm others. Someone passionate, but patient.
She wouldn't have to be very "feminine", as long as she didn't mind my lack of "masculinity." She wouldn't have to be very thin, as long as she wasn't noticeably obese. Height and breast size don't matter. She'd just need to have nice hair, preferably longer (although as long as it's not boy short I could probably stand it), and a pretty face. That's the worst part, the face. That's where the worst superficiality comes in. It's something that a person can't help. Something I can't define. Something one either passes or fails with no warning and no explanation other than "that's the way things are."
All and all, that seems to be where I stand. At the moment. I don't know my mind well enough to know if that's really how I feel. But it's how I think I feel. Is it impossible? No. Improbable? It seems like it. And I guess, at this point, most people would lower their standards. Most people would "make do." But I don't want to make do. I don't need to make do. I can go my entire life not dating once and still be happy. I could be happier, I could be more adequately "fulfilled", but I can do with solitude. So I keep my unrealistic, superifical standards, knowing that even if I found someone to meet them, I would self-destruct the realtionship in due time.
What's a poor, egotistical jerk to do?