I saw Slumdog Millionaire on Saturday. Honestly, probably the best movie I've seen. At least in several years. I've been playing the soundtrack on repeat.
I'm heading back to school early tomorrow morning. I really feel that this break, as boring and somewhat difficult as it has been, has really helped to renew me. I finally feel ready to get started on what is the last leg of this section of my life's journey. I'm so glad that I can say that.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
My family is large and complicated and weird and global (nationalities, not locations, for the most part we all live within a ten mile radius of each other).
The easiest way to start is this: my mother is one of five children. She has three brothers and one sister, therefore I have four aunts and four uncles (seeing as severyone is married). One set lives in KC, but the others live in Saint Charles, or a surrounding county.
My uncle (mother's brother) and aunt in KC have four children, two girls and two boys, each roughly a year apart. The girls are biological and both of the boys were adopted from Columbia at different times and from different cities.
My other uncle (mother's brother) who lives the closest to us have five adopted children, three boys and two girls. The oldest boy is from the states, but I'm pretty sure he is Vietnamese. The next oldest boy is from Korea. The middle child, also a boy is from the US. The two girls are the youngest (but just a few months apart in age) and are from the US as well. The three youngest children are African American.
My other other uncle (mother's final brother) lives a little further away, approximately 10 miles. He has four children, all his own, three boys and a girl.
My aunt (mother's sister, pretty much my second mother) adopted a baby in the summer of 07. He is from Florida, but his father was Lebanese and I think his mother was half Hispanic.
Then there is my mother's little chunk. So really there is just me and my mother. But, I have a half sister, same father, different mothers. She is married to a wonderful and patient man and they have two beautiful children. Their daughter (my niece) is three and their son (my godson and nephew) is about 10 months. She has a real life and is only 27.
These are only my first cousins, etc. It only gets crazier the further out you get. But, quite a few of them still live in town. And seeing as my maternal grandparents' families were some of the original folks in our area, I'm [somewhat distantly] related to nearly everyone in St. Charles City.
I don't know why I'm sharing all of this. I think my family is loud and corny and funny and lame and weird all at the same time. I really like it. I find it strange that although our family is this large and so close to one another that we are not actually all friends. We don't have traditions as a family. The cousins don't have stories to share like our parents do, of family gatherings. I wish we had more traditions. In my old age I'm starting to wish some things were more traditional, I want to have roots and know what they are. I mean, we have a more distant relative working on this massive genealogy thing and our family is all traced to Piencenza (I think that may be spelled wrong), a town in Northern Italy, but it doesn't seem to matter to anyone.
I think I started thinking about this when one of my cousins and I had an actual conversation at our Christmas gathering. It was our first one and I really liked it. Then my mom and I ran into him at the grocery store and we had another. Then I thought, hey I should hang out with him sometime. So, I went to ask him on facebook if he would like to get together sometime but I almost didn't send it because I thought that would be weird. And it bothered me that I had to hesitate about it. I mean, we're family, shouldn't it be second nature that we spend time together? I eventually did and we are going to get together in the near future and I'm glad. I'm actually really excited. I just feel like this is how it's supposed to be with family, but I was bothered by my immediate hesitation.
The point is that I'm glad to spend more time with my complicated family.
The easiest way to start is this: my mother is one of five children. She has three brothers and one sister, therefore I have four aunts and four uncles (seeing as severyone is married). One set lives in KC, but the others live in Saint Charles, or a surrounding county.
My uncle (mother's brother) and aunt in KC have four children, two girls and two boys, each roughly a year apart. The girls are biological and both of the boys were adopted from Columbia at different times and from different cities.
My other uncle (mother's brother) who lives the closest to us have five adopted children, three boys and two girls. The oldest boy is from the states, but I'm pretty sure he is Vietnamese. The next oldest boy is from Korea. The middle child, also a boy is from the US. The two girls are the youngest (but just a few months apart in age) and are from the US as well. The three youngest children are African American.
My other other uncle (mother's final brother) lives a little further away, approximately 10 miles. He has four children, all his own, three boys and a girl.
My aunt (mother's sister, pretty much my second mother) adopted a baby in the summer of 07. He is from Florida, but his father was Lebanese and I think his mother was half Hispanic.
Then there is my mother's little chunk. So really there is just me and my mother. But, I have a half sister, same father, different mothers. She is married to a wonderful and patient man and they have two beautiful children. Their daughter (my niece) is three and their son (my godson and nephew) is about 10 months. She has a real life and is only 27.
These are only my first cousins, etc. It only gets crazier the further out you get. But, quite a few of them still live in town. And seeing as my maternal grandparents' families were some of the original folks in our area, I'm [somewhat distantly] related to nearly everyone in St. Charles City.
I don't know why I'm sharing all of this. I think my family is loud and corny and funny and lame and weird all at the same time. I really like it. I find it strange that although our family is this large and so close to one another that we are not actually all friends. We don't have traditions as a family. The cousins don't have stories to share like our parents do, of family gatherings. I wish we had more traditions. In my old age I'm starting to wish some things were more traditional, I want to have roots and know what they are. I mean, we have a more distant relative working on this massive genealogy thing and our family is all traced to Piencenza (I think that may be spelled wrong), a town in Northern Italy, but it doesn't seem to matter to anyone.
I think I started thinking about this when one of my cousins and I had an actual conversation at our Christmas gathering. It was our first one and I really liked it. Then my mom and I ran into him at the grocery store and we had another. Then I thought, hey I should hang out with him sometime. So, I went to ask him on facebook if he would like to get together sometime but I almost didn't send it because I thought that would be weird. And it bothered me that I had to hesitate about it. I mean, we're family, shouldn't it be second nature that we spend time together? I eventually did and we are going to get together in the near future and I'm glad. I'm actually really excited. I just feel like this is how it's supposed to be with family, but I was bothered by my immediate hesitation.
The point is that I'm glad to spend more time with my complicated family.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
no right angles
"As for minute joys: as I was saying: Do you realize the illicit sensuous delight I get from picking my nose? I always have, ever since I was a child. There are so many subtle variations of sensation. A delicate, pointed-nail fifth finger can catch under dry scabs and flakes of mucous in the nostril and draw them out to be looked at, crumbled between fingers, and flicked to the floor in minute crusts. Or a heavier, determined forefinger can reach up and smear down-and-out the soft, resilient, elastic freenish-yellow smallish blobs of mucous, roll them round and jellylike between thumb and forefinger, and spread them on the under surface of a desk or chair where they will harden into organic crusts. How many desks and chair have I thus secretively befouled since childhood? Or sometimes there will be blood mingled with the mucous: in dry brown scabs, or bright sudden wet red on the finger that scraped too rudely the nasal membranes. God, what a sexual satisfaction! It is absorbing to look with sudden eyes on the old worn habits: to see a sudden luxurious and pestilential 'snot-green sea,' and shiver with the shock of recognition."
This is one of my favorite paragraphs in the English language. I'm not sure what that really says about me, but I think it's beautifully written. It comes from Sylvia Plath's journals. I read a lot of Plath when I was in high school. I think that's a good time in one's life to read her. Then maybe again in middle age. She just made a lot of sense to me at that time in my life. Her mind is understandable and her depression is crippling, but beautifully written.
I don't know. I'm not much for writing. Not really. Sometimes I have thoughts that I want to write, but they come out scattered and un-pretty. I think that's why I enjoy reading so much. Why I tend to prefer listening instead of talking, about things and ideas that are important. I just like to absorb the genius of others and hope that maybe one day it will rub off on me.
I've been seeing a lot of movies lately. That's all there really is to do around these parts. It's either shopping, drinking, or seeing movies. I think the last is at least the least mind-numbing (depending on the film). So far they've all turned out well.
My mother, aunt, and I saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button on Christmas. It was beautiful, and just like all the advertisements say, like nothing I had ever seen on screen. It was captivating and it made me think about life, death, aging, and the meaning of our time on earth. More on that later.
My relatives from KC came down for our annual family Christmas extravaganzaa, and we saw Marley and Me as a family. It didn't make me ask questions and it wasn't anything intellectual, but it was cute and made me cry. I've become a real sucker for those sappy, incredibly obvious movie plots. I can't help it.
Then on Monday, I met up with Jewell friends (hooray!) for Chipotle and a movie. We saw The Reader. I really enjoyed it. It was really kind of depressing and everyone in the story was broken, but it was good nonetheless. I know that I liked it, but I can't put my finger on why. For some reason, the story didn't pull me in completely, so I'm not sure exactly what it made me feel. Maybe I felt nothing, and I just enjoyed watching it. Don't know.
Death, life, aging, legacies. These words have been around me quite a bit. After Benjamin Button, family was around talking about the past, telling stories (of which I had one to contribute-later*), being lively. My sister's family is fresh and new with a big future. In my life, I feel like I'm getting ready to leap off a pedestal into the unknown: adulthood. Then on NPR today, Talk of the Nation had a segment about the people who died in 2008 who left behind some kind of legacy.
I know that it's selfish but I want to make sure that I leave something behind. I kind of think it's human nature to want to be remembered. It makes you feel immortal in a way. That's good and bad in different ways. I don't know. I find that's my answer more and more these days, I don't know.
What I do know is that it's New Year's Eve! I'm excited and terrified about what 2009 has in store for me. It's going to be an adventure! That's going to be my new outlook. I guess that's kind of a resolution, along with reading more for pleasure. Bring it on.
*My story is this: on the 4th of July, my uncle gave me this HUGE bundle thing of fireworks to set off. I was at Morgan's house for the celebration and it was obvious that this display was going to be too large to set off around other houses, etc. So, we decided to relocate to the Quad. We set of this huge thing, and after the first explosion, we ran for it, back to Morgan's. It was spectacular. My uncle couldn't believe that we did this, but after I told him, he remarked that I really must be his niece, which makes me feel like I really do belong in my family.
This is one of my favorite paragraphs in the English language. I'm not sure what that really says about me, but I think it's beautifully written. It comes from Sylvia Plath's journals. I read a lot of Plath when I was in high school. I think that's a good time in one's life to read her. Then maybe again in middle age. She just made a lot of sense to me at that time in my life. Her mind is understandable and her depression is crippling, but beautifully written.
I don't know. I'm not much for writing. Not really. Sometimes I have thoughts that I want to write, but they come out scattered and un-pretty. I think that's why I enjoy reading so much. Why I tend to prefer listening instead of talking, about things and ideas that are important. I just like to absorb the genius of others and hope that maybe one day it will rub off on me.
I've been seeing a lot of movies lately. That's all there really is to do around these parts. It's either shopping, drinking, or seeing movies. I think the last is at least the least mind-numbing (depending on the film). So far they've all turned out well.
My mother, aunt, and I saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button on Christmas. It was beautiful, and just like all the advertisements say, like nothing I had ever seen on screen. It was captivating and it made me think about life, death, aging, and the meaning of our time on earth. More on that later.
My relatives from KC came down for our annual family Christmas extravaganzaa, and we saw Marley and Me as a family. It didn't make me ask questions and it wasn't anything intellectual, but it was cute and made me cry. I've become a real sucker for those sappy, incredibly obvious movie plots. I can't help it.
Then on Monday, I met up with Jewell friends (hooray!) for Chipotle and a movie. We saw The Reader. I really enjoyed it. It was really kind of depressing and everyone in the story was broken, but it was good nonetheless. I know that I liked it, but I can't put my finger on why. For some reason, the story didn't pull me in completely, so I'm not sure exactly what it made me feel. Maybe I felt nothing, and I just enjoyed watching it. Don't know.
Death, life, aging, legacies. These words have been around me quite a bit. After Benjamin Button, family was around talking about the past, telling stories (of which I had one to contribute-later*), being lively. My sister's family is fresh and new with a big future. In my life, I feel like I'm getting ready to leap off a pedestal into the unknown: adulthood. Then on NPR today, Talk of the Nation had a segment about the people who died in 2008 who left behind some kind of legacy.
I know that it's selfish but I want to make sure that I leave something behind. I kind of think it's human nature to want to be remembered. It makes you feel immortal in a way. That's good and bad in different ways. I don't know. I find that's my answer more and more these days, I don't know.
What I do know is that it's New Year's Eve! I'm excited and terrified about what 2009 has in store for me. It's going to be an adventure! That's going to be my new outlook. I guess that's kind of a resolution, along with reading more for pleasure. Bring it on.
*My story is this: on the 4th of July, my uncle gave me this HUGE bundle thing of fireworks to set off. I was at Morgan's house for the celebration and it was obvious that this display was going to be too large to set off around other houses, etc. So, we decided to relocate to the Quad. We set of this huge thing, and after the first explosion, we ran for it, back to Morgan's. It was spectacular. My uncle couldn't believe that we did this, but after I told him, he remarked that I really must be his niece, which makes me feel like I really do belong in my family.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
it's that time of year
I'm back at home now. For Christmas. I find that each time I come home, it feels less and less like home. At least the house does. It just feels like the place where my mother lives her life. My stuff is just sortof around. Strangely, the dynamic between us is always the same. It's almost like, no matter what we were doing previously, we revert back to what we were the last time we were together. It's hard to explain.
I'm glad to be here, but I just feel so stuck. I'm different here. Maybe better, maybe worse. I guess everything just looks different from this side of the state.
As much as I love winter time, it's turbulent. Some of my best and worst memories have to do with the winter (I'm really into memories. They can make or break everything). It's hard when it comes around each year because I can feel it creeping in. It's a slow progression. There's generally not a lot I can do about it, but I'm going to do my best this year.
In addition, I'm a planner, and not knowing what I'm going to do next isn't helping. I want to be exciting and spontaneous and have adventures, but I'm bad at that. I guess I'll just have to wait and see what happens. Maybe I'll make the best of it, maybe I should just revel in the uncertainty of it all. Maybe that's the approach I'll take. At least it's a start.
Despite how hard this semester was, I was proud of how well I kept it together. I didn't stress too much the majority of the time and was able to have a blast. I actually think that I made some memories this smester that will have trumped the other years. Oh man. I love my friends. I love Jewell.
I've really been into Hafiz lately:
God
and I have become
Like two giant fat people
Living in a Tiny boat.
We Keep Bumping into each other and
L
A
U
G
H
I
N
G .
- Hafiz
I should stop now. This is a little too dramatic for me.
I'm glad to be here, but I just feel so stuck. I'm different here. Maybe better, maybe worse. I guess everything just looks different from this side of the state.
As much as I love winter time, it's turbulent. Some of my best and worst memories have to do with the winter (I'm really into memories. They can make or break everything). It's hard when it comes around each year because I can feel it creeping in. It's a slow progression. There's generally not a lot I can do about it, but I'm going to do my best this year.
In addition, I'm a planner, and not knowing what I'm going to do next isn't helping. I want to be exciting and spontaneous and have adventures, but I'm bad at that. I guess I'll just have to wait and see what happens. Maybe I'll make the best of it, maybe I should just revel in the uncertainty of it all. Maybe that's the approach I'll take. At least it's a start.
Despite how hard this semester was, I was proud of how well I kept it together. I didn't stress too much the majority of the time and was able to have a blast. I actually think that I made some memories this smester that will have trumped the other years. Oh man. I love my friends. I love Jewell.
I've really been into Hafiz lately:
God
and I have become
Like two giant fat people
Living in a Tiny boat.
We Keep Bumping into each other and
L
A
U
G
H
I
N
G .
- Hafiz
I should stop now. This is a little too dramatic for me.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I love it when a song comes on the radio or on itunes shuffle and you haven't heard it in quite a while. As soon as it plays you instantly remember the first time you heard it, or maybe something really great that happened while you were listening to it. It's definitely one of my favorite life pleasures. If it's a good memory of course. Memorable:
- Nearly any Weezer song reminds me of hanging out at Chris's house in high school. First semi-legitimate parties, etc. As well as the first time I listened to Jimi Hendrix (Foxy Lady-I'll never foget Ben singing).
- Ben Folds- Riding in the car with Bryce, Colleen, Ben, Mike, and Andy. Usually being up to no good. And of course our infamous road trips.
- Creep, Radiohead- Also riding with Bryce, Colleen, Ben, Mike, and Andy. And Bonnaroo.
- Hoppipolla, Sigur Ros- Hanging out in the physics library with Ryan and Andrew and watching the music video for the first time. I was an insta-fan.
- Ten Thousand Lines, Electric President- Also with Ryan and Andrew. Just driving North from Andrew's house after setting off \coke-bottle bombs.
- Like Castanets, Bishop Allen- First time I ever heard them I was en route to seeing Regina Spektor with Morgan.
- Regina Spektor- Driving home with Katie and Anna. Also insta-fan.
- Cupid, Sam Cooke- Riding in the car with my mother after kindergarten. I knew all the words.
- My Love, Petula Clark- Same as above.
Good times.
Friday, November 7, 2008
time machine
I want a time machine to start college over. I'm not ready for this graduation, real-life, get a job business.
And I would make changes. I would definitely have a different major. Math and physics all the way. None of this biology business either.
And I would make changes. I would definitely have a different major. Math and physics all the way. None of this biology business either.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
A-Punk
I've recently decided that the only things that really make sense in my life right now are math and chemistry. And maybe music.
Math, for example, just makes a ridiculous amount of sense. You start out by defining a set of numbers according to a specific question. Maybe it's regarding the behavior of a fluid, a recent polling statistic, or the specifics of a business. A while later, after some rearranging, substituting, etc. you have the answer to the question. It's so much easier than using words, because the meaning of the numbers doesn't change. There's no need to read between the lines. It's also more practical than words and it takes up less space.
Since chemistry is based on math, logically it makes a great deal of sense too. Math and physics laws dictate the behavior of molecules, which explains so much.
Music only makes sense because it doesn't have to. Music exists as a momentary emotion, but the beauty of it is that the emotion can be replayed. Re-experienced. Anytime, anyplace.
This is how I've been feeling the past few weeks. I'm hardening.
Math, for example, just makes a ridiculous amount of sense. You start out by defining a set of numbers according to a specific question. Maybe it's regarding the behavior of a fluid, a recent polling statistic, or the specifics of a business. A while later, after some rearranging, substituting, etc. you have the answer to the question. It's so much easier than using words, because the meaning of the numbers doesn't change. There's no need to read between the lines. It's also more practical than words and it takes up less space.
Since chemistry is based on math, logically it makes a great deal of sense too. Math and physics laws dictate the behavior of molecules, which explains so much.
Music only makes sense because it doesn't have to. Music exists as a momentary emotion, but the beauty of it is that the emotion can be replayed. Re-experienced. Anytime, anyplace.
This is how I've been feeling the past few weeks. I'm hardening.
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