I went sledding on Saturday, with some biology/zoology majors. It was a Facebook invite, which was neat, nobody ever uses those events thing. Nevermind that nobody ever invites me anywhere (besides Lishbug that is). So it was a pleasant surprise to be invited and I immediately said yes, and we had so much fun. I haven't gone sledding in years and years. And for once, I was not self conscious; not once did I stop and wonder if I looked like an idiot - I'm sure I did, but I didn't care. The hill at Fallbrook is huuuuuuge! I somersaulted down it the first time, I super-manned out of my sled to avoid the snow fence, and otherwise got entirely covered in snow several times over without any grace a'tall. It was a blast. We spent 2 hours racing down the hill and making trains of sleds (there were 6 of us...and 6 sleds....that is until the inflated one got popped, hah). Then we had hot chocolate and warmed up.

I haven't had that much fun or laughed that hard in a long time.

I totally have to find the hill back home in the park and make people go sledding with me again. This time I'll wear old glasses, the only fear i had the whole day was breaking my current ones.

In other news my dad is home, with a feeding tube set up until he re-learns how to eat. Christmas is non existant at it stands currently, money will be tight with the new year. One more final and 2 papers to edit and wrap up and I'm done with this semester. Oh, and my favorite married couple professors want to "share me" for next semester; I'll be TAing Vertebrate Zoology and doing a research project on the chipmunk trapping data - that'll look real nice on Resume, but now there's no way I can keep t to one page. It'll be fun too, keep me busy, and if I can get 4 credits for the two things, I will only have to take 3 actual classes (Plants and Society, Evolution, Zoo Seminar) and have no MWF classes at all! There was also the implication that I should become a professor; making the implicit/explicit statements that I should reach for a PhD eventually up to 2.

I used to think that if there was drama in my life, things wouldn't be so...well...boring. But they are. I gave up on Xmas cards (yes I was the Atheist sending Xmas cards for the past several years) this year, because I never even got a thank you for most of the ones I sent out, never mind a card or a holiday greeting in return. I bought candy canes for my Bio112 lab instead; they appreciated it, I got a lot of nice words and told it was really sweet of me to bring them candy canes and good wishes for their finals. They were a good class of freshman bio/zoo majors, lot of really bright nice kids.

I try and do nice things with the hope that they get returned. I know that silly little things like a piece of candy can really bright an otherwise boring and routine day. I do them because I want to, and seeing everybody happy as lab gets out early and that they got a candy cane makes me happy. I'm always careful to say thank you and smile when someone holds the door for me. I get it from my mom - doing nice things to make other people just a little teensy bit happier because that makes me a little bit happier. And yet when nothing at all gets returned it's admittedly depressing. So after about 5 or 6 years of sending about 2 or 3 dozen Xmas cards every year I'm stopping. It was such a headache trying to track people down to give them a card and a candy cane, sometimes they didn't get handed out until Jan. Last year I think I threw 2 cards out because the people just wouldn't make time to see me for 5 whole minutes. What a waste of paper.

It's fairly negative, but despite a tiny desire to be around people lately, I just can't bring myself to push hard in to the several cliques that exist in my extended social circle. Ultimately it's because in May I leave here, and if HS was any indication, I won't look back. I'll be lucky if I leave here with Lishbug and Jess as my good friends to keep in contact with; that's 2 more than I left HS with.

It's taken me the past 6 months to a year to settle into the realization that I am an Atheist. It's a testament to the strength of the mental brainwashing that it's taken this long to shake the remnant guilt my religion left in and accept the fact that I do not believe in any god of any form.

Growing up Atheism wasn't unknown to me. My mom's friend married an Atheist - but at the the time it was a whispered dirty word, and she was somewhat rebellious for doing it. I knew it meant, quite simply, he didn't believe in god. I couldn't grasp the idea though.

I grew up in Catholic schools, went to Catholic church, and was active. Over the course of the years I was an altar server (when they finally allowed girls to be them anyways), a choir girl, a cantor (lead singer for the mass), an a lector and commentator (the person who does all the readings during the mass). I went to religion class, I went to confession, and I was even confirmed. However by the time I was preparing for Confirmation I was having doubts about it all.

I've tried to pinpoint where exactly the doubt began, but I still can't. It was the build up of many events - mostly because as active as I was in the mass, I saw the inner workings of the priests and began to see things that didn't add up. It didn't add up, because the Pastor was an out and out hypocrite. There was the big controversy over allowing girls to be alter 'boys' - they broke down because there weren't enough boys volunteering and they desperately needed more servers. I remember one friends father declaring he'd change churches if they let girls be servers.

Then there was the Sister, who was a nice lady, and wanted to be more involved. She over stepped her bounds, encroaching on the priests positions, and the pastor had her removed. I remember that this especially upset me.

I remember that I specifically hated all masses lead by the Pastor. He inevitably politicized the sermons, bringing in all sorts of world events and preaching on them. I remember growing angrier and angrier at the hypocrisy I heard from the pulpit.

I left the Church, to the chagrin of my parents. To their merit they let me go without too much of a fight - they thought I'd grow out of it. I remember the first Sunday morning, alone in bed, in the house, after some yelling that I wasn't going to mass. I laid there in the half lit room and felt the guilt wash over me - was I going to go to hell because I wasn't in mass this morning? I watched the clock, I knew what part of the mass they would be in at each moment.

Each week it got easier though, the guilt faded. I dabbled in some Pagan religions - but I thought of magic as 'active prayer' - even dabbling in Pagan religions it was still drenched in the Christianity I had been raised with. I just couldn't get into it though, I couldn't believe any of it worked. I stopped even that after a few months.

I began to think I was just lazy. I was too lazy to work hard to find this Faith I was supposed to have. I didn't question the root of the problem - the existence of a god - I merely assumed a god of some sort existed, and that I just failed at properly understanding Him and worshiping him.

I pushed my troubles with religion out of my mind for most of highschool, and event college. I didn't question that something existed, although just what IT was got less and less clear. From the defined Christian god, it faded into some sort of "Higher Power" that may or may not be conscious. Looking back now I realized that the more I've learned the less clear it's become.

It wasn't until last year that it dawned on me - I don't even remember why. I wasn't lazy. I wasn't failing miserably at having Faith, I simply didn't have any to begin with. I remembered suddenly what my problem with the spells and witchcraft of pagain religions had been - I just didn't believe any of it.

I didn't believe any of it.

It was like suddenly seeing the big picture when you've onlyl had fragments of it before. I didn't beleive any of it, at all. Not in the Bible, not in the saints, angels, demons, the devil, or god. Nothing. I couldn't bring myself to try harder to find faith because part of me knew there was nothing there.

Even realizing this though, it's taken months to shed the mindset that I am too lazy, or too stupid, or not trying hard enough, to find some magical god. It's taken a lot more reading, and a lot more thinking, to discover what I do beleive in is humanity. I believe in people, and their power to be kind, their power to reason and think. That I don't believe, but rather know, that life is short, and it's the little moments that count. That time spent with family and friends is the most valuable, because it will all come to an end, and we'll return to the cosmic dust that we came from and fade from the memories of the living, and that life will go on.

Life will go on. Science has shown that Life has gone on for millions of years. It'll keep going on. We're just a little piece of that larger puzzle, and it's not demeaning to Humanity to say it, but uplifting. We're here to enjoy life, to marvel at the universe as no other species that we've yet discovered can, and to pass on. It's beautiful because it is ephemeral.

And I refuse to be guilted into feeling like a lesser being, guilted into thinking I'm lazy or a bad person anymore. It's wonderfully freeing, I realized this summer, to truly appreciate the moment for what it is, and because it will be gone in the blink of an eye. There is no perfect heaven awaiting us, there is no punishment for the wicked or reward for the good. Life and the Universe are only as fair as we make them.

I'd rather strive to make a sort of heaven on earth while I'm here, than to spend my life on my knees waiting for someone else to hand it to me.

At the start of this summer I was hesistant. I was afraid that I had made a wrong decision in botching my chance at an on-campus internship in the biochemistry lab doing a protein and behavioral study on captive grey wolves. This was an internship that streched into the semesters and would include presentations and papers and the start to a publishing science career, as well as paying over the summer a decent amount of 10 weeks of 40+ hour weeks.

I botched the chance because I admitted that lab work doesn't excite me that much. I can do it, I will do it, but microscopes give me headaches and I just can't stay inside all day.

I only hoped that trusting my heart in my desire to do something that isn't lab work was right.

Instead I went to WildWings, a nonprofit, entire donation and volunteer help run shelter for injured birds of prey. I didn't even get a call back unil a month into the summer. I liked raptors, but I've never been a bird person. At the same time, I signed up with a temp agency, finally learning to network through my Dad.

As I finish the summer out, I realize I had one of the best summers I have had in a long time. It was relaxing, it was spontaneous, and it was productive. I made more money than I did last year at DunkinDonuts, and about as much as I would have with the internship, without having to work everyday. I finally splurged, and bought myself a PS2 and some games, and went to see Jess in Florida, which was the best trip ever. I also learned a lot about offices and the working world, as well as began a connection with a temp agency and a handful of businesses tha absolutely adored me. Hell, I had a job offer for next summer if they need anyone.

I also have come to love the birds at WildWings. Each one is such a distinct character, and I adore working with htem. I even got to put on a glove and handle a red tailed hawk, and pet and cuddle with a bobcat. I got to talk to the public about animals and answer questions and entertain little kids that like animals. It's such a great place.

Now I'm putting together things for the year and hoping to bring WildWings to campus with the Biology club, and wondering how I could do a research project for an independent study on campus with raptors. I've confirmed that conservation education is what I like doing. It boils down to talking to people about the things I love - animals and science.

Maybe the internship would have looked nicer in a full on science field, or for a PhD, but I don't care. I have two things to add on to my resume, a bunch of people that like me, and a bunch of new experience. I even got to visit my friend and remember that I have two kick ass friends.

Now I just need to pack up and get back to campus, there's lots to do. I have new books to read through too - Voltaire's "Candide" and Sun Tzu's "Art of War" as well as "Evolution: Triumph of an idea" by Carl Zimmer.

Lots to do, lots to think, lots to learn. That's the way life should be.

the speed at which I'm crossing things off my list is diminishing. I can make any number of phone calls tos trangers when working as a secretary, yet here I am putting off making calls for my own contacts and getting things done. Arghhhh!

It also seems lonely and quiet around here since coming back from Florida. It was so mcuh fun being with Jess and Alicia and now its quiet and boring >.<

3.5 more weeks. But even then most of the people I know have graduated or left campus so it'll be quiet there too.

Arrgh! Best get back to productivitity.

An addendum/additional thought to the Pink lyrics posted below. Namely, these two lines:

What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?

There's this little inkling of a voice in the back of my head that knows the answer to this question. It's soft and quiet and it's the reason I first caught tehse two lines and choked on them. It's the voice that knows the answer to the question but it's an answer I don't want to acknowledge.

I remember a fight I had with my father several years ago. It's one of many, the kind of fight tha,t when I was little, ended with me being hit or slapped. They're the fights that when I was bigger, and slapped back, ended with threats of kicking me out of the house. They still do.

This one was simple though I don't recall the words I recall the question that I posed. It was simple, silly, yet he couldn't answer. Would you hate me if I was a telemarketer?

It sounds silly doesn't it? Telemarketers are just a job description, just people. It's not the same as asking "if I was gay" or "if I was an atheist" or "if I was a muslim" or "if I had AIDS." Simple. It was after dinner, telemarketers called and he went on a rampage about how horrible they were. All I remember is defending them as just a job - just people trying to make some money. Just people, like us.

"What if I had to be a telemarketer to make money? Would you hate me too if I was a telemarketer?"

He didn't answer. He swore I would never had to be a telemarketer, that I shouldn't be, and if I was I should quit and find a job that wasn't so...so horrible? So offensive? So terrible and annoying? Find a different job.

But he didn't say no.

I cried. I didn't really understand why then, I do now. I cried, for the hate that laced all those words, about a title as silly at telemarketer.

What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?

I know what kind.

Alternate title: Why highschool really was the best time of your life.

If you were to ask me what really separates humans from the other animals on the planet, there's only ahandful of things I could offer. A big one, however, is our understanding of the concept of time. For better or for worse, we are keenly aware of the fact that every moment is one more step towards an inevitable ending that we can't backtrack. This awareness makes living something akin to being in a speeding car heading for a cliff, or a brick wall - ultimately it's how we cope with this understanding that shapes who and what we are.

You'll be saddened to know the train tracks you once walked as a young boy are now nothing but a graveyard.
Please don't forget how small we really are, because nothing really matters when we're gone. -The Ataris

I remember being told that highschool was the best time of my life, right around the time I graduated. I couldn't believe it - after the drama of highschool myself, and the few friends that remained, wanted nothing but to escape into college. Many other people have agreed - stating they wouldn't return to highschool for any millions of dollars. So if it was so bad, why does the idea that its the best times of lives - and not college - persist?

I think now, that it's because highschool is the last time in which we were still naive to our speeding-car situation. Teenagers are said to behave as though they were immortal - regardless of consequences - they don't know there's a cliff just up over the horizon that they're speeding toward with each moment. It's the last time we live day by day and aren't pondering the past. Somewhere after Freshman year of college, it changes, most people come keenly aware of how these wonderful moments just can't be gotten back again.

I'm not really sure how I handle it yet. I thought of it last year, when I heard of Scott's death, and now, as the Goob house comes to an end. It's odd - people I never really knew except in passing, as friends of friends, a place I only went a handful of times, are the things that make me pause and grow nostalgic. I suppose they're monumental events in their own ways, death, the breaking up of a group, akin to the end of a television series, that cause me to pause. And then I think of the box of photos in my closet, not touched in years, the semi-hastily made prom photo book, and the Madrid photos never put into an album despite my intentions, all memories of things past that won't ever be quite the same.

We hold onto these things, pictures are so common now, many people take tons and tons of them, I only take a few. We frame them and hang them and put them on mantles. We keep objects and books and make albums that tell visual stories of our past. All in some vain effort to say to the universe "hey! I existed!" as if we could frame the past and keep it with us as proof of good times. Yet there are countless more good times, especially if you're not a picture taker, that we don't stamp down into something we can touch, feel and hold. We just know they happened, we remember.

I've been keenly aware of this passing of time of late, and it's why my time feels wasted. The memories made from the last month haven't been anything that I'll remember in a year, or five, or ten, and that seems to make them somewhat wasted. I feel like I should take pictures of these non-events as though it will somehow make the time less wasted. But would it really help? How much of our time, so important that we rush everywhere all the time, is really wasted in the end if we weigh it in things we really remember?

This feeling is w hy I drive home most nights at the speed limit, watching others in such a hurry despite it being late, and I have the urge to avoid going home, but rather go to a school park and sit on the swings and talk under the stars with anyone who'd feel like listening. I wonder how people would react if I were to dial them up at 10 or 11 at night and ask if they wanted to go to the park after not talking to them in about 2 years, I wish I was on campus where I can just go for a long walk and find people along the way.


( The Ataris - So Long Astoria )

Well you go through life

So sure of where you’re heading,

And you wind up lost

And it’s the best thing that could happen.

‘Cause sometimes when you lose your way

It’s really just as well.

‘Cause you find yourself;

That's when you find yourself.

The trip plans are set, tickets bought, to go to Florida at the end of July and see Jess. It should be really awesome, first trip since VA Beach 2 years ago, and a girls trip, which is a first as well.

My rooms fairly clean, my school stuff is fairly organized, my clothes are hung nicely, I'm putting in a new hard drive, and rebuilding the old computer for a house computer once I buy ram, I have a few things to do for the trip, I've got a few days of work, and some days of volunteering at WildWings coming up, it's not much money, but it's easy, better than nothing, and things are moving along.

I've been semi-productive in the least, with all this time, but it still feels wasted. It seems like I should be doing more with my time, though there's not much to do, like I should be with people, but they're all far away. I know an awful lot of people when I stop and think of it, but I don't see any of them with frequency. One more year, and I probably won't see most of them ever again - hell after this year there's a lot I won't see again, friends of friends twice and three times removed. I've never been seriously attached to people for a variety of reasons, mostly because I tend to drift, they drift, and then they're gone.

And then the time seems wasted - "the best years of your life" - but here we are barely doing anything, just....drifting along. I appreciated Dr. Diana's musings on escapism with good merit - this is losing childhood is it not? On the cusp of diving into the RealWorld(tm) after college, no idea where to go, what to do, how far to move, saying goodbye to friends, and being so keenly conscious of it is what's driving me nuts. One more year, then what? I don't know. One more year, then so many good things come to an end it just seems like I should be using every minute to it's best advantage now, but what the best use of each minute?

And it bothers me, makes me anxious, makes me feel like I'm not doing enough. So how do I handle it?

I go play WoW.

For once, I managed to network successfully. I originally applied at the temp. agency on this side of the city. Their procedure consisted of thrusting a large pile of paperwork at me, letting me sit and do it for half an hour, making me watch 20 minutes worth of stupid video, then sending me out the door and telling me to call when I was available for work. I called them last Tuesday after taking the weekend to relax upon getting home...and they don't have anything, and have not called since.

My dad mentioned that he works with a different temp. agency out of the west side of the city, because he uses them to hire temp. workers for his own company. I told him if he was so sure the manager of this agency who he knows could get me something, to talk to her for me. I ended up emailing her my resume, and going in today for paperwork. the paperwork was just as long, but more clear and easy to follow, and only one brief video on harassment. Then some time discussing my skills, what I'd like to do, and what she has available. Hell she almost had me a job for tonight!

Now sitting on my block of summer plans are a few things. For one, thers a brief 2 day fill in in a professional office as a receptionist, which I can handle, pays 8.75$ an hour for only a few hours two days, a Friday/Monday combo. (And ane xcuse to get some nice summer dress clothes). Then there's an awesome one - 13-14$/hr to drive around on rounds and try and gtet stores to sell me alcohol or cigarettes and see if they card me. I learn more details on it tomorrow when I go back. It's only a day or two but it's damn good pay for cruising in the car and buying alcohol, heh. That's what I almsot did tonight, but the position was filled, I believe the next round is either tomorrow or the end of the month, either way will be nice. There's a third gig for a video rental store slapping labels on stuff and doing mailings, which pays 8$ an hour and is a bit longer term and starts at 6am - which is what I wanted, I like working mornings and having the afternoon/evening to relax and do whatever.

Only bad news is that the bird rescue place still hasn't contacted me about my volunteer application, despite taking it in there and talking to the owner and manager of the place for a bit when I dropped it of. I'll have to call them eventually, though not until I'm more settled job wise, which will be dealt with tomorrow.

Beyond that, I'm enjoying the PS2 I treated myself too and an addicted to FFX when not playing Magic or swimming in the pool. I've lost 3 pounds since coming home and am content to have a good diet and lots of healthy good food in the house thanks to my brothers obsessively healthy lifestyle. Now if we can work our sharing the car when I start working, things will be good!

I'm trying my damndest not to get off on the wrong foot this summer. Freshman year summer I had no job, because I came home, got screwed out of my high school job, and then spent an extremely depressed summer buried in SWG and failing to do anything useful. Last summer I rushed straight into a job at Dunkin Donuts, got screwed out of hours half way through the summer in preparation of replacing me, screwed in monetary terms, and otherwise did nothing useful.

This summer I am aiming to be useful and have a job. I came home, and didn't bother unpacking anything. No, I dove straight into cleaning my room. A garbage of old cltohes tossd out already, a bag and a half of random stuff tossed, and a garbage bag of stuffed animals being tossed shortly, and I'm on my way. I also spent hours dusting, holy hell, the dust bunnies in this room are sentient. I still have more cleaning and organizing to do, namely the shelves, more stuffed animal shelves, and my closet floor. I also have to put away my clothes and cosmetics from school, and repack my stuff for next semester. I didn't do much of it today, but I picked at it a little. It's a good start.

I'm also working on finishing thngs off, like candles and lotions and assorte crap that I am stocked up on to last years. I'm a horrible pack rat. I'm also figuring out how to hell a whole bunch of never-even-touched books on Wiccan and pagan religions - what a waste of money. I'm hoping to "return" them to the bookstore and get some things to actually read. Else sell them on ebay or amazon or something. Make some money.

Tomorrow I have to call the temp ageny, I need to make some money, but no huge pressure. There are 2 jobs I've seen hiring already, which while shitty, would do in a pinch. I have to als take my application over to Wild Wings and get set up volunteering there for the summer, that should be fun.

It's nice to be home with real, healthy food too. I feel good. I've been told I'm looking better. Throwing out all these old clothes that don't fit admittedly, feels good too. I'm strangely content.

On that same note, I just spoiled myself. I bought a PS2 although I was not supposed to - it was on my list of high-priced items to bribe myself to be useful this summer with. However I am far too good a shopper, and after eyeing them for over 6 months seeing them for 99 (well really 109 because of tax, fuckin' tax) dollar at FYE this week I couldn't pass up.

Now if I can get this week organized, cleaned, and work set up after my week off, hopefuly this motivation will carry through into getting some weekend trips off the ground with my mom, Mark, and Alicia, though not all on one trip ;)

I've never ben a fan of labels. I've been called a lot of things over time, some of which are not really repeatable. Sometimes they're based on appearances, attitudes, or personal believes. Some labels are more accurate than eithers. Some labels were once accurate but they're not anymore. Words change, meanings and definitions change, and thus so do labels. Words are strongly influenced by actions. So a word that defines a group of people is defind by the actions of those people - and it changes as their actions change.

But there are soooo many silly labels abounding that using them just falls short.

( all about me (again!) )