Have you ever been in the terrible spot of wanting to have the entertainment of reading a book without actually having to do the work of finding a book and reading it? I feel like I'm in that spot at the moment, and it is not entirely pleasant. Having a cold does not help my outlook on said literary adventure, but I have had this feeling for a little while now, so I feel that it should be addressed.
Sitting in classes hearing about the importance of literacy and pushing students to achieve academically is inspiring and great and all, but it seems to mess with how books are viewed on when one is not in class. Instead of enjoying 'The Hunger Games,' and lamenting the strict governmental control that forced Katnis to leave her family and participate in the gladiatorial games of the government, I am analyzing its literary characteristics and language availability to see if middle school students could read it. Audio books are even subject to this strict view, because if they are read to fast, students won't be able to keep up, and if they are too slow, everyone will fall asleep (myself included). I've even tried branching out to leave the world of Adolescent Fiction and read 'grown up' books, and have found myself being thoroughly depressed by Kazuo Ishiguro's butler in Remains of the Day, and his driving around the English countryside mourning the effects of war on his beloved country and life.
Floundering in my literary enjoyment, I have gone back to the classics and am rediscovering my love for literature through none other than Dorothy L. Sayers, and her brilliant Lord and Lady Peter Wimsey. Granted, I am somewhat stuck listening to it since I have a 2 hour commute everyday, BUT her delightful prose is once again reminding me that books can be read for fun and I do not have over analyze everything I read. It's a wonderful rediscovery, the only downside being it's hard to relax, drink tea, and listen to a book while hurtling down the high way every morning and afternoon. But I guess that's why I have a travel mug.
Tuesday 30 November 2010
Sunday 31 October 2010
Not a Covered Wagon
I have the greatest internship ever. I get to dress up as an 1836 school teacher and teach 4-6th graders about life at a Military Fort in 1836. Yes, I'm in costume for this venture, and it is quite fun. We talk about teaching and learning in a one room school house, what would have happened if they got in trouble, how long they would have had school on Saturday, and what they would have eaten for lunch. I even lit a fire in the fireplace the other day. It took a while, but we had a fire. I've met some pretty sweet people as well. It's great.
Lately, I seem to be crisscrossing the country at regular intervals to see a few people who are far away and are very dear to my heart (namely the Boyfriend and the Sister). The Boyfriend lives on the West Coast, while the sister is in the Windy City, and I've been able to visit them both (though I must admit that the Sister has gotten the short end of the visiting stick). The need to purchase decent luggage is becoming increasingly apparent as I continue to make these travels as my red backpack from high school is nearing the end of its rope.
These meanderings in conjunction with my current place of employment have got me thinking about the progression of travel. Back in the day (around 1836), travel took a very long time. There were no airplanes and cars were not readily available to all. Railroads were slowly becoming available, but even that was a novelty. Walking, horses, wagons, and other types of wildlife were the transportation mechanisms of the day, none of which were terrible swift.
Even though my two people are far away, and I have to travel back and forth quite a bit, and eventually find a new backpack or cute carry-on bag, it really isn't that bad. The Sister will wing her way over to our house for Thanksgiving via little train, big train, and eventually automobile. The Boyfriend is eve farther away, but travelling to see him doesn't take 2 months. And although the gaps between seeing him are long, I am not traveling in a covered wagon hoping the donkey doesn't pass out along the way. So, I'll go unpack my bag from this weekend, find my red backpack and get ready for the next traveling adventure.
Lately, I seem to be crisscrossing the country at regular intervals to see a few people who are far away and are very dear to my heart (namely the Boyfriend and the Sister). The Boyfriend lives on the West Coast, while the sister is in the Windy City, and I've been able to visit them both (though I must admit that the Sister has gotten the short end of the visiting stick). The need to purchase decent luggage is becoming increasingly apparent as I continue to make these travels as my red backpack from high school is nearing the end of its rope.
These meanderings in conjunction with my current place of employment have got me thinking about the progression of travel. Back in the day (around 1836), travel took a very long time. There were no airplanes and cars were not readily available to all. Railroads were slowly becoming available, but even that was a novelty. Walking, horses, wagons, and other types of wildlife were the transportation mechanisms of the day, none of which were terrible swift.
Even though my two people are far away, and I have to travel back and forth quite a bit, and eventually find a new backpack or cute carry-on bag, it really isn't that bad. The Sister will wing her way over to our house for Thanksgiving via little train, big train, and eventually automobile. The Boyfriend is eve farther away, but travelling to see him doesn't take 2 months. And although the gaps between seeing him are long, I am not traveling in a covered wagon hoping the donkey doesn't pass out along the way. So, I'll go unpack my bag from this weekend, find my red backpack and get ready for the next traveling adventure.
Monday 1 March 2010
Caulfield and Batman
I've been reading The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger and researching the censorship and banning that have taken place throughout the years. One of the authors I keep coming back to highlights the extreme paranoia accompanying the repeated decision to deny adolescent readers access to Salinger's novel. Pamela Steinle maintains that the invention and use of the nuclear bomb was the even that rocked America's faith in individual's abilities to choose correct action. Adults no longer trust the conceptual abilities of teenagers because the adults have lost the solidity of their own thinking because humanity now has the capability of destroying the planet. So, Holden Caulfield (the main character in Catcher) is not a character to be trusted as he questions American social structures and importance of adult interaction throughout his journey. He is a 'hero' who bleeds, experiences fear, and stands as an outside observer of society.
Recently, I listened to a podcast that discusses the cultural shift from the heroic, perfectly untouchable Superman to the dark, twisted character of Batman. It seems that with the advent of nuclear firepower, society no longer looked for a hero that could save them from looming disasters. Suddenly, there was a need for a hero who could enter into dark, difficult problems facing ordinary people. Or, as my podcasting friends pointed out, there was a need for a hero that could be met in the grocery store when he ran out of milk, bleed if you punched him in the nose, and die if a bullet was fired at his chest. As the moral framework of society was being shaken from the obliteration of Japanese men and women, an ordinary someone was needed who could prove himself better than the bleak experiences that created him.
Being so much more than simply disgruntled and malcontent with the world he lives in, Holden Caulfield's piercing observations sever him from the community of human experience as he stands apart from society, judging, critiquing, and attempting to better the forces that created him. Playing the part demanded by his social status, Bruce Wayne's nightly transformation into Batman allows him the space to subvert the system that created him and provides the opportunity for rebellion against the current societal framework. Both in the remote position of being able to push against perceived moral boundaries, Caulfield and Batman raise questions and force readers to question the legitimacy of cultural morality and the individual's contribution therein.
Recently, I listened to a podcast that discusses the cultural shift from the heroic, perfectly untouchable Superman to the dark, twisted character of Batman. It seems that with the advent of nuclear firepower, society no longer looked for a hero that could save them from looming disasters. Suddenly, there was a need for a hero who could enter into dark, difficult problems facing ordinary people. Or, as my podcasting friends pointed out, there was a need for a hero that could be met in the grocery store when he ran out of milk, bleed if you punched him in the nose, and die if a bullet was fired at his chest. As the moral framework of society was being shaken from the obliteration of Japanese men and women, an ordinary someone was needed who could prove himself better than the bleak experiences that created him.
Being so much more than simply disgruntled and malcontent with the world he lives in, Holden Caulfield's piercing observations sever him from the community of human experience as he stands apart from society, judging, critiquing, and attempting to better the forces that created him. Playing the part demanded by his social status, Bruce Wayne's nightly transformation into Batman allows him the space to subvert the system that created him and provides the opportunity for rebellion against the current societal framework. Both in the remote position of being able to push against perceived moral boundaries, Caulfield and Batman raise questions and force readers to question the legitimacy of cultural morality and the individual's contribution therein.
Monday 22 February 2010
Marriage & All that Stuff
I found some G. K. Chesterton Quotes on marriage and sex and all that stuff there. They are quite fantastic and thought I should share.
"Love means loving the unlovable - or it is no virtue at all." - Heretics, 1905
"A man imagines a happy marriage as a marriage of love; even if he makes fun of marriages that are without love, or feels sorry for lovers who are without marriage." - Chaucer
"Women are the only realists; their whole object in life is to pit their realism against the extravagant, excessive, and occasionally drunken idealism of men." - A Handful of Authors
"The whole pleasure of marriage is that it is a perpetual crisis." - "David Copperfield," Chesterton on Dickens, 1911
"A good man's work is effected by doing what he does, a woman's by being what she is." - Robert Browning
"Women have a thirst for order and beauty as for something physical; there is a strange female power of hating ugliness and waste as good men can only hate sin and bad men virtue." - Chesterton on Dickens
"Marriage is a duel to the death which no man of honour should decline." - Manalive
"The first two facts which a healthy boy or girl feels about sex are these: first that it is beautiful and then that it is dangerous." - ILN 1/9/09
"I have little doubt that when St. George had killed the dragon he was heartily afraid of the princess." - The Victorian Age in Literature
Good night, and good luck.
"Love means loving the unlovable - or it is no virtue at all." - Heretics, 1905
"A man imagines a happy marriage as a marriage of love; even if he makes fun of marriages that are without love, or feels sorry for lovers who are without marriage." - Chaucer
"Women are the only realists; their whole object in life is to pit their realism against the extravagant, excessive, and occasionally drunken idealism of men." - A Handful of Authors
"The whole pleasure of marriage is that it is a perpetual crisis." - "David Copperfield," Chesterton on Dickens, 1911
"A good man's work is effected by doing what he does, a woman's by being what she is." - Robert Browning
"Women have a thirst for order and beauty as for something physical; there is a strange female power of hating ugliness and waste as good men can only hate sin and bad men virtue." - Chesterton on Dickens
"Marriage is a duel to the death which no man of honour should decline." - Manalive
"The first two facts which a healthy boy or girl feels about sex are these: first that it is beautiful and then that it is dangerous." - ILN 1/9/09
"I have little doubt that when St. George had killed the dragon he was heartily afraid of the princess." - The Victorian Age in Literature
And that, my friends is that. Here's the link.
Monday 15 February 2010
Looking for a Hole
My academic writing is a bit dodgy at the moment, so I'm trying to write a paper and my words are hitting the page with about as much grace as a ton of bricks falling into a swimming pool full of pasta. It's not going well, which isn't really helping my cause. Ideas that were well formed a couple of days ago are getting stuck somewhere between my ears and elbows, and I'm not real sure what to do about it. My creativity is severely lacking even in this random quib about my life because I can't think of something creative to say about life.
Why did I decide to write everyday? What was I thinking? I think I need to find one of those daily inspiration sites that will send me something to write about.
Why did I decide to write everyday? What was I thinking? I think I need to find one of those daily inspiration sites that will send me something to write about.
Sunday 14 February 2010
Valentine's Day
Well, a year ago today, I was in Oxford, England drinking tea in a pub, reading Jane Austen, attending an incredibly romantic concert without a date, and having ice cream with friends. It was glorious. I remember it was the first Valentine's Day that I did not spend the whole day being depressed about being single. It was quite an accomplishment particularly since all of Oxford was decorated with hearts and pink and cute couples. However, it happened. And it was a lovely day.
This year, however, instead of bemoaning my singleness, I am missing the person responsible for my not having the title of 'single' attached to my Facebook profile (if in fact I decided to put it on Facebook). So instead of drinking tea in Oxford, I'm drinking tea in Wisconsin. And while there is no concert in a 200 year old concert hall for me this evening, I do get to electronically converse with that one guy, which is quite fun.
I promise this blog will not become a long lament or anything. But it is Valentine's Day. So, I get some leeway, right? I really do not enjoy those laments, so I assure you, this will not become one of those.
This year, however, instead of bemoaning my singleness, I am missing the person responsible for my not having the title of 'single' attached to my Facebook profile (if in fact I decided to put it on Facebook). So instead of drinking tea in Oxford, I'm drinking tea in Wisconsin. And while there is no concert in a 200 year old concert hall for me this evening, I do get to electronically converse with that one guy, which is quite fun.
I promise this blog will not become a long lament or anything. But it is Valentine's Day. So, I get some leeway, right? I really do not enjoy those laments, so I assure you, this will not become one of those.
A Story
So, I just finished Graham Greene's 'The End of the Affair,' and although it is a morally questionable read, it is one of my favorite books. Strange? Probably, but it is amazing. I always feel like my heart should break after reading it, as it explores the differences and similarities of love and hate and how one man works through them all. As the two lovers meet and devour each other, Greene explores the idea of both hate and love consuming the very essence and life of a person. So much is consumed, in fact, that at the end of the novel nothing is left. Nothing, except for the One Thing that never runs out, and even He isn't wanted because of what was taken.
Saturday 13 February 2010
A Decision
You know how there are those Flickr photo challenge things where you have to take a new picture of yourself everyday for a year? I think I might try the same thing with writing. Granted, I probably won't have profound things to write about everyday, but it's worth a shot. And I have always wanted to write more, so perhaps this is a good reason to do it.
This little blip will count as my first attempt.
I can't think of anything profound to say other than I really like this guy I know. He's quite amazing. And I'm really sad that it's Valentine's Day tomorrow and he's two time zones away. Maybe someday that won't be the case, but for right now it is, and it stinks.
Thursday 11 February 2010
Deodorant
Have you seen the names they give woman's deodorant!?
Seriously??!!
Why on earth would you call deodorant 'Sexy Intrigue'?
Really?
It smells good, but why the name?
So, now we are objectifying women through the names given to deodorant?!
Who wants sexy armpits??
Come on now.
Seriously??!!
Why on earth would you call deodorant 'Sexy Intrigue'?
Really?
It smells good, but why the name?
So, now we are objectifying women through the names given to deodorant?!
Who wants sexy armpits??
Come on now.
Wednesday 10 February 2010
From Inside the Aquarium
There's a place on the UWGB campus where the buildings form an oddly shaped 'U', and on one of the sides, there is a cafe area with big windows that face other parts of the building so you can see other people eating at tables across the way.
The wind likes to play there.
You think I'm kidding?
You should have seen the twirling! It was crazy.
But every once in a while it would stop and almost look in the windows, almost like it was scoping out who had the best lunch. I was eating tuna salad on crackers. Very unimpressive as far as lunches go. And I think the wind agreed, so I didn't offer to share.
I kind of felt sympathy with fish in aquariums who are simply trying to eat their lunch, while strange shapes swirl around the outside of their glass trying to catch a glimpse of something.
Ever read 'The Fish' by Elizabeth Bishop? It is a beautiful poem, and for some reason sitting on the inside of the glass reminded me of it. Strange, I know. But this is a blog that very few, if any, people read, so I guess I'm allowed my moments.
The wind likes to play there.
You think I'm kidding?
You should have seen the twirling! It was crazy.
But every once in a while it would stop and almost look in the windows, almost like it was scoping out who had the best lunch. I was eating tuna salad on crackers. Very unimpressive as far as lunches go. And I think the wind agreed, so I didn't offer to share.
I kind of felt sympathy with fish in aquariums who are simply trying to eat their lunch, while strange shapes swirl around the outside of their glass trying to catch a glimpse of something.
Ever read 'The Fish' by Elizabeth Bishop? It is a beautiful poem, and for some reason sitting on the inside of the glass reminded me of it. Strange, I know. But this is a blog that very few, if any, people read, so I guess I'm allowed my moments.
Tuesday 2 February 2010
From A Long Time Ago
do you ever have those days that seem better suited for a movie than real life? like its too impossible to be real?
monday was one of those days for me..
monday, april 16, 2007..
it started off fairly normal.. i was late for my 8am class.. i drank my chai tea and finished german homework.. sang loud songs in chapel.. learned about marriage in the victorian/pre-modern period.. ate something weird at the cafeteria..
i found out that someone had walked into virgina technical college and opened fire with some sort of gun.. killing, at the time, 22 people.. people attending school to get the same kind of degree i'm trying to earn..
german class was subdued.. Christian theology class was subdued.. the weight of that one man's decision weighing heavily and quieting a normally talkative classroom.. the kind of weight you couldn't just blow off.. the kind of weight that sits on your soul and forces you to think..
walking out of class, the sun was shining.. the birds were singing.. the breeze moving the newly formed leaves on the trees.. the earth seemed to quiet in response to the sadness caused by a man with a gun..
walking back to the dorm, i encountered an interesting development.. two men and a woman stood by the sidewalk by the cafeteria proclaiming God's judgement and the doom mankind faced.. they jarred me.. i'm sure their hearts are honestly looking to show people the truth, but having them there.. on that day.. it seemed.. i don' know.. disrespectful in a way..
so, i kept walking.. i really don't know what their message is completely about.. i've only listened for about 5 minutes today.. so.. i kept walking.. i went back to my room and took a nap.. and then i went to dinner.. and i was reminded that there is hope.. that there is hope for tomorrow because there will be a tomorrow because there is a God that holds tomorrow.. and i know the One that holds tomorrow.. and for that reason, i can have peace and hope..
i know monday was terrible.. and i know the people keep coming back..
but i also know that God is big.. and He is good.. and even though i have two papers due, a really really bad head/back ache, haven't seen my family in six months, and responsibilities i would like to avoid.. God is still good.. His character and love for me remain the same in the face of such weird obstacles..
there will be a tomorrow.. the bride will get the groom (for those of you who were in chapel today).. the sun will still rise and put beautiful colors all over the clouds..
there is still hope..
monday was one of those days for me..
monday, april 16, 2007..
it started off fairly normal.. i was late for my 8am class.. i drank my chai tea and finished german homework.. sang loud songs in chapel.. learned about marriage in the victorian/pre-modern period.. ate something weird at the cafeteria..
i found out that someone had walked into virgina technical college and opened fire with some sort of gun.. killing, at the time, 22 people.. people attending school to get the same kind of degree i'm trying to earn..
german class was subdued.. Christian theology class was subdued.. the weight of that one man's decision weighing heavily and quieting a normally talkative classroom.. the kind of weight you couldn't just blow off.. the kind of weight that sits on your soul and forces you to think..
walking out of class, the sun was shining.. the birds were singing.. the breeze moving the newly formed leaves on the trees.. the earth seemed to quiet in response to the sadness caused by a man with a gun..
walking back to the dorm, i encountered an interesting development.. two men and a woman stood by the sidewalk by the cafeteria proclaiming God's judgement and the doom mankind faced.. they jarred me.. i'm sure their hearts are honestly looking to show people the truth, but having them there.. on that day.. it seemed.. i don' know.. disrespectful in a way..
so, i kept walking.. i really don't know what their message is completely about.. i've only listened for about 5 minutes today.. so.. i kept walking.. i went back to my room and took a nap.. and then i went to dinner.. and i was reminded that there is hope.. that there is hope for tomorrow because there will be a tomorrow because there is a God that holds tomorrow.. and i know the One that holds tomorrow.. and for that reason, i can have peace and hope..
i know monday was terrible.. and i know the people keep coming back..
but i also know that God is big.. and He is good.. and even though i have two papers due, a really really bad head/back ache, haven't seen my family in six months, and responsibilities i would like to avoid.. God is still good.. His character and love for me remain the same in the face of such weird obstacles..
there will be a tomorrow.. the bride will get the groom (for those of you who were in chapel today).. the sun will still rise and put beautiful colors all over the clouds..
there is still hope..
Sunday 31 January 2010
A Way With Words (or Lack Thereof)
I really wish I was a better writer than I am.
I'm not saying this to invoke sympathy or reassurance, but I'm simply acknowledging the fact that I cannot write as well as I would like.
And I think it's partially my fault.
I really should practice more so that when I actually do have something significant to share with the world, I'll actually be able to wield the words I want to use.
Part of the problem is feeling a bit overwhelmed by the vast storehouse of literature already available and I wonder about the importance of my own contribution.
However, this thought has been faced and dealt with by authors and English majors since those 'titles' came into play.
I'm not a great poet, my essays lack spirit, and I've only written a couple stories, and having studied some literature, I have become very aware of the ginormous amounts of writing that is simply shifted aside to make way for the 'greats' (predominantly Western, well-educated men).
Not that I've minded reading those books, but so much stuff is accidentally ignored and forgotten, that I sometimes wonder about the importance of my personal contribution.
I suppose I should practice and write things regardless of who will or will not read it.
And it is somewhat arrogant of me to assume that something I write could impact someone else and be remembered forever (pretty sure I'm not the next Shakespeare).
But isn't that what books and stories are for?
To impact and change the way people think?
To bring light into dark places?
Maybe my stories could do that, maybe no one will ever read them but me and my computer, but I guess my excuses are somewhat lame and I should keep writing simply because it is important and good practice.
Timing
Have you ever noticed in movies and TV shows how 'perfect' all the timing is?
The guy and girl at the bus station 'happen' to turn and notice each other right at the perfect moment. The selfish, egotistical jerk realizes and corrects the error of his ways right before he goes in to make a sales pitch that will destroy a priceless community. The cute waitress drops a cup of coffee on the head of the guy she will end up marrying. The dad shows up at the baseball game right before his son goes up to bat. The teenage girl forgives her mom right before the Christmas tree lighting. All is scripted to come off at just the right moment, and everyone knows its coming so no one misses their cue.
Real life is a lot more complicated.
Now, I know that this is not a big revelation, but I seem to keep needing to be reminded of it over and over again. I have no control over the timing of events in my life regardless of how many times I keep looking for a script or cue cards to tell me when to have realizations, look a certain direction, or drop something.
Lately, I seem to be learning a lot about my lack of control in situations. I know that I have control over my actions, responses, feelings and such, but there are things in life that are so far out of my control its actually kind of funny. I have an interview on Wednesday, and while I'm responsible for getting everything done and having all my ducks in rows and such, it is out of my hands as to whether or not I get the job.
However, there is an amazing bit to all this lack of control stuff going on. I know the One who is in control. Regardless of how stressed I get about my life or how lonely I feel at certain moments, there is Someone who has written all the cue cards and has all the exits and entrances perfectly timed.
So, even though I have no idea what the next month and half will bring, what adventures will be embarked on, what classes I may take, what people I may meet, or what events may change my life, I'm excited to see the timing that God has worked out so that all things work together for good. I would like to rush things and find out if I'm moving somewhere in June, but I will find out exactly when I need to find out and it'll be great regardless.
Real life is not simple. The dialogue is not pre-written. Entrance and exit cues are not pre-arranged, or at least, I cannot see the exits and entrances. I have no idea what's coming because my script got lost in the mail or something, and you know what? That's ok. God is bigger than me, He knows what's coming, and I'm learning to trust His timing and His plan. He loves me, and He has a good plan that will be better than anything I could think, dream, hope, or imagine. So, I'll keep doing what He puts in front of me, and we'll see what happens.
The guy and girl at the bus station 'happen' to turn and notice each other right at the perfect moment. The selfish, egotistical jerk realizes and corrects the error of his ways right before he goes in to make a sales pitch that will destroy a priceless community. The cute waitress drops a cup of coffee on the head of the guy she will end up marrying. The dad shows up at the baseball game right before his son goes up to bat. The teenage girl forgives her mom right before the Christmas tree lighting. All is scripted to come off at just the right moment, and everyone knows its coming so no one misses their cue.
Real life is a lot more complicated.
Now, I know that this is not a big revelation, but I seem to keep needing to be reminded of it over and over again. I have no control over the timing of events in my life regardless of how many times I keep looking for a script or cue cards to tell me when to have realizations, look a certain direction, or drop something.
Lately, I seem to be learning a lot about my lack of control in situations. I know that I have control over my actions, responses, feelings and such, but there are things in life that are so far out of my control its actually kind of funny. I have an interview on Wednesday, and while I'm responsible for getting everything done and having all my ducks in rows and such, it is out of my hands as to whether or not I get the job.
However, there is an amazing bit to all this lack of control stuff going on. I know the One who is in control. Regardless of how stressed I get about my life or how lonely I feel at certain moments, there is Someone who has written all the cue cards and has all the exits and entrances perfectly timed.
So, even though I have no idea what the next month and half will bring, what adventures will be embarked on, what classes I may take, what people I may meet, or what events may change my life, I'm excited to see the timing that God has worked out so that all things work together for good. I would like to rush things and find out if I'm moving somewhere in June, but I will find out exactly when I need to find out and it'll be great regardless.
Real life is not simple. The dialogue is not pre-written. Entrance and exit cues are not pre-arranged, or at least, I cannot see the exits and entrances. I have no idea what's coming because my script got lost in the mail or something, and you know what? That's ok. God is bigger than me, He knows what's coming, and I'm learning to trust His timing and His plan. He loves me, and He has a good plan that will be better than anything I could think, dream, hope, or imagine. So, I'll keep doing what He puts in front of me, and we'll see what happens.
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