a favorite

Can I tell you something that I love?

I love pronouncing the word damnable. It's one of the few times you get to say the n in damn. There's a certain added satisfaction, don't you think?

dam-na-ble

Delicious.

to do: stop doing

I am a natural-born multi-tasker. I was born with that feminine instinct which allows me to do 80 things at once. Apparently this is a concept that most men cannot fathom. For example, most men (and I dare say, some women) cannot comprehend the idea of putting on mascara, making a phone call, singing along with the radio, composing an essay, and thinking about a conversation you need to have with someone-- while driving up University Parkway, steering with your knee.

That is, of course, a rhetorical situation. 

But this is what girls do. Girls sit in class taking notes, making a To-Do list, passing notes with their friend across the aisle about the inane discussion, writing in their journal, rereading a paper due in an hour, and checking their phone every six seconds to see if they got a text from that cute boy. All in a day, you guys, right?

Though some might covet the ability to do so much at once, I've been trying to break myself of the habit this semester. My focus lately has been shot-- I mean, completely non-existent. I don't blame myself for not being able to retain German vocabulary since I can't seem to settle myself long enough to remember that Ansteckung means infection. Okay, I remember that one after all, but you understand my point.

What I need is to embrace some masculine inclination and learn to compartmentalize my thoughts, focusing on one thing at a time to ensure that everything I wrote on that To-Do list actually gets finished. I need to put on my male thinking cap and when it's time to do German, I will do my German. When it's time to read The White Lady, I will read it. When I need to do laundry and clean my room, I may dip my toe into multi-anything, play music and dance as I do so. The best way to get through cleaning is to dance your way through it. And by gum, I'll actually sit down and finish that stupid Biology course. Actually, first I'll sit down and really start it.

I'm hoping the attempt will also help me better understand the men in my life who can't think about so many things at once. I'll learn to focus on one thing at a time, and not get quite so stressed out over things as I over-think. The process of thinking about one thing at a time really tends to neutralize emotions too, I would think. Like, romantic feelings don't just disappear when someone doesn't text you as they're doing homework or rehearsing or whatever. Hopefully, my own compartmentalization will reenforce that notion and give me more control over my feelings. That's really what this is about-- it's an issue of control. I aspire to be in control! 

So my plan of action? 

Step 1:  Start the day with proper scripture study.

Step 2:  PRAY FOR HELP!

Step 3:  Complete tasks in order of priority.

Step 4:  Quit texing quite so much... ahem.

Step 5:  Remember that I am, in fact, a girl, and it's okay for me to have emotions.

Notes to self: Recognition of those emotions will not complete my tasks any quicker, nor does the recognition provide me with justification for distractions. Also, don't steer cars with my knee.

4th annual

happy batman day, everybody.

i stalk you long time

QUESTION:
Is it wrong to stalk people on the internet?

Now I don't mean looking up personal information, or school records, or anything creepy like that. What I mean is, is it wrong to spend more than a few minutes looking at someone's Facebook profile/pictures, or going back a few pages on their blog?

Because here's the thing-- I totally do that. I'm such a professional blog/Facebook stalker, you guys. Of course, it's not the kind of thing I'd admit to being with any kind of detail. It's enough that you know I possess the capacity; you don't need to know who it is I'm stalking or why. I think my favorite people to stalk are those who are peripherally important to me-- people who are close to people I am/want to be close to. Sure, sometimes it's because I'm suspicious of them, or jealous. And duh, stalking people I don't like at all is morbidly fascinating and definitely a good way to spend a few slow minutes at work. I don't know, maybe I'm crazy. I feel like I'm not alone in this pursuit, however, even if you won't admit it...

Thinking about this curious habit of mine got me wondering for a minute about my personal feelings regarding people stalking ME. Don't deny it. There are people reading this entry right now who don't know me, or at least not well, or your motives for reading are inspired by varying curiosities: you're wondering why my IP Address is on your statcounter, aren't you? Or maybe you clicked the link Julie posted in an entry a few weeks ago. Or maybe you read an essay I wrote which mentioned my blog? Maybe you clicked the link I pimped in my Facebook status even though we're not really friends, or maybe you actually despise me and are seething with disgust and frustration at my self-indulgence, or maybe you're trying to decide if I'm awesome enough to be hanging out so much with your brother/son?

Frankly, these are all valid reasons for stalking me. I don't blame you. In fact, I encourage it. It helps me justify myself when I wind up on your blog for similar reasons.

Also, the way I see it, the more people who read my blog, the more potential sales I'll have when I decide to publish that book someday.

in defense of randomicity

So that game "25 Random Facts" is taking over Facebook. It's been kind of interesting to read them, though I can't say I've done more than skim over most. I've really just enjoyed reading things about people I know very well and seeing the facts they choose to post about themselves. Very revealing, I guess.

It has me thinking, though-- a lot of people have begun with some declaration of resistance, like, "Okay, I've had 87 requests from other people. FINE, I'll do it!" First of all, I don't believe you're being pressured into anything. If you're so weak-willed that you can't escape scary, oppressive Facebook games, my guess is you need to do some reevaluating in your life. The bigger question, however, is why people feel the need to insist something like, "I never know what to say about myself" and "#25 is not going to be clever because I can't think of anything?" Really? Is this true? Or is it some kind of attempt to seem humble-- like 24 facts is acceptable, but 25 just smacks of pride.

The fact is this: I have no trouble whatsoever coming up with 25 random facts to list about myself. Indeed, I have no trouble whatsoever making all sorts of confessional lists about myself on an almost weekly basis. I have had two recent blog posts entitled "Blog Secret," based on the concept of Post Secret, which is, when you boil it down, just a slightly more revelatory version of "25 Random Facts." Does this make me a self-centered person? What does it mean, exactly, that I can talk on and on and on about myself? I like to think that it means I'm just a very open person who knows herself well. That's what it means right?

I'm actually kind of proud of that fact-- that I've come so far as to consider myself an open person. For much of my life I wanted to be an open person, but wasn't actually. I didn't talk to my family about personal things for most of my childhood and youth. I have always had a few close friends who know everything about me, but frankly, that's what my journal has always been for. In the last few years, it's been so much more liberating to just be happy with myself, and proud to be an interesting person (within reason, of course).

I saw that movie Ghost Town recently, which was a whole lot more adorable than I expected it to be-- also a lot more poignant (pronounced "poiguh-nant" for those of you who call yourself English majors) than I anticipated. At one point, Tea Leoni is going on about the vitality of living your own life, no matter how small it is--

We just get the one life, you know, just one. We can’t live someone else’s, or think it’s more important just because it’s more dramatic. What happens matters. Maybe only to us, but
it matters.

Maybe it's silly, but that's what this "25 Random Facts" business reminded me of. I don't think people should be lothe to talk about themselves, or pretend like they have nothing interesting to say. I think it's really great that people are opening up, even if it's just to list a few seemingly insignificant things about themselves that most people probably didn't know. Habits and behaviors are really interesting and I, for one, like reading about them.

But listen-- if you can't come up with 25 things of your own, by all means, I'll make up the difference for you.

control < out of control

This is my hardest semester of college so far, in part because of my course load, in part because I actually care. German is all I (should) think about. I eat out too much because I don't have time to eat at home. My car is becoming a money pit. I don't work enough to make money to pay for anything, to say nothing of actually saving. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself after I graduate. My room is a disaster. I need to do laundry. I lost one of my favorite bracelets. I'm not 100% memorized. I don't sleep nearly enough.

Perhaps it's delirium, but I can't help being exceptionally happy all the time.