Sunday, April 26, 2009

Life, the Universe, and Everything

"Did you, too, O friend, suppose democracy was only for elections, for politics, and for a party name? I say democracy is only of use there that it may pass on and come to its flower and fruit in manners, in the highest forms of interaction between [people], and their beliefs -- in religion, literature, colleges and schools -- democracy in all public and private life...."
-Walt Whitman

These last few days have been kind of hard for me.

I'm not saying that I haven't had a place to live, or food to eat, or good friends to talk to . . . So I guess I'm better off than many. I should try to focus on that.
But, since this is my very own blog, I'm going to tell you exactly why I'm feeling the way I am.

I've been having thoughts about life, people, existence . . . All that, you know? The thoughts are kind of heavy. They're not bad, per se, but they don't exactly make me want to frolic through a field of daisies. Or maybe they do, but in a totally different, twisty way.

Anyway, mostly I'm concerned with relationships. Not romantic, but just between people. I don't know if I can vocalize this correctly . . . Bear with me. It feels like, whatever you're talking about, one person is more involved, more passionate. Ordinarily, that isn't a bad thing; it's what feeds conversations, isn't it? One person explaining, the other questioning, each adding a little and taking so much more. Sometimes, though, it gets really tricky. People don't let on to how much they care about something. I certainly don't. I wouldn't call myself disingenuous, but I definitely hide my passions from people. It's because I don't know how they feel. That, however, leads to a vicious cycle: I don't share the depth of my feelings, so the other person doesn't know, so they don't show the depth of their feelings, so I don't know, so I don't show . . . You see?

It's when I don't know stuff that I get scared. That's why people are supposed to be afraid of the dark, no? Because they don't know what's in it; the lack of knowledge is terrifying. It's the same with interactions with other people. A few days ago, I was talking with a friend. For me it was a relaxed conversation, very open. I was happy. Suddenly, my friend was crying. I had no idea that the things we'd been saying had been so moving to the other party involved.

I don't want my words to have such a profound impact. Well, no, that's not true. I would like my carefully thought-out, edited and re-edited, weighed and measured words to have an impact. This whole idea of just general conversations affecting people . . . It's alarming. I'm only human. I'm flawed (boy, howdy)! If I'm going to discuss something that's really dear to me, I'm going to put a lot more thought and effort into it. I mean, it takes me forever to write a blog entry, and I edit it several times before and after I've posted it . . . And no one even reads it. But that doesn't matter. I think it's important, so I take care.

Maybe this is just a bit of a wake-up call. Maybe I'm the one who's never as passionate. Maybe I should be better about that. It's like someone just handed me a key and said, "Here, there are six billion people in the world. That means six billion doors. You've got roughly 70 years. Start opening."

This might be fun.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009


I'm holding a handful of feathers, and as hard as I try, I cannot hate them.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Being Watched

"My flower is ephemeral," the little prince said to himself, "and she has only four thorns to defend herself against the world. And I have left her on my planet, all alone!"
-The Prince, "The Little Prince"

Have you read The Little Prince? Yes? Then you remember the conversation the Prince has with the geographer?

The Prince asks him what "Ephemeral" means.

I just logged on to my blog, and guess what the word of the day is?


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

WTF? 1

Leapin' lizards, Batman!

Does Robin favor alliteration, or slant rhyming?

Edit: Actually, it seems to be neither. Rather, he says, "Holy (whatever), Batman!"

My personal favorites:

Holy hardest metal in the world, Batman!

Holy pseudonym, Batman!

Holy human pearls, Batman!

Holy tintinnabulation, Batman!

Holy contributing to the delinquency of minors, Batman!

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Feminism (an Introduction)

Alright. Where to begin?

I am an avid blog reader. I have a few that I read frequently, and a couple of those are written by feminists. Mormon feminists, to be completely accurate. Consequently, I've ended up reading a fair number of entries and articles that deal with feminism and its meaning and place within the Church.

If I'm being completely honest, I am quite uninformed about the intricacies of Feminism. However, the topic intrigues me because, lately, I've come to realize that Feminism is not what I once thought it was. Perhaps even I, myself, may be an underdeveloped feminist, just waiting to enter this gender-defined world.

Growing up I (sort of) knew what Feminism was, but I thought of it in a negative light. I didn't have justification for it; still, the unhappy connotation was there. I imagined feminists as these raging women wearing coveralls and throwing buckets of fake blood on any man they saw, like so many crazed animal rights activists.

Yesterday, however, Christian vocalized in a comment something I hadn't really thought about: Feminism is incredibly varied. There are many different kinds of feminists, and indeed it would be near impossible to fit them all into one category.

That's when I started examining my life. While I have never actually come out and defined myself as a feminist, I find myself agreeing (or at least aligning) with many ideas that are strongly supported in Feminism. As far back as I can remember, I have believed that men and women are equal. It wasn't a big deal to me to actually lay down the lines of measurement. In my mind there wasn't a distinction between the genders; people were people.

I still see the world that way, for the most part. Unfortunately I don't think that's how the world sees me.

A few months ago I had an experience with some construction workers that opened my eyes to the way some people work. It left me frustrated, embarrassed, and offended. Mostly, though, I was just sad.

So, I guess if the most basic requirement of being a feminist is the belief that women are just as valid as men (and should be treated the same respect), then sign me up for a pair of coveralls.

Saturday, April 4, 2009


"I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,"
-Walt Whitman, "Leaves of Grass"

Conference was beautiful and enlightening, and I cried a few times.

Now I am just . . . lacking words for anything.

I think the biggest frustration of all today is Music. My search for new melodies and lyrics has become almost frantic. Today no music touches me. This brings me great sorrow.

Ugh! For all of my oceans of thought crashing within, I can scarcely transcribe a teaspoon.

. . .
. . .
. . .


Friday, April 3, 2009


"To travel is to be born and die every moment,"
-Victor Hugo "Les Mis"

Suicidal Worm Syndrome.

I have it.

This morning I had to pick my way carefully across the pavement for fear of stepping on one of the hundreds of worms that had oozed up overnight. When I got to the Benson building, I was sad to see that the cement had started to dry directly next to the wall, leaving all of the worms stranded and dying.

"Why do they do that?" I asked myself. "Why do they crawl onto the cement when they must know that they can't burrow into it? They should just stay in the soil."

I then spent the rest of the hour mourning the lives of these slimy, sad creatures.

When I left for math, I still could not conceive of a reason for their strange (and morbid) behaviors.

Then I went to German, and it all became clear. We looked at pictures of Vienna and the Swiss Alps, and my heart nearly cried for the beauty.

"I want to see these things. I know that it might be dangerous, leaving the country, but it's a risk . . . I'm willing . . . to take."


Perhaps when I go to Germany, the little German worms will poke out of their holes and think to themselves, "Warum kommt sie her? Sie muss wissen, dass es gefährlich ist. Sie soll in ihr eigenes Land bleiben."