Learning to Read and Write Again

Being back at school, I am finding that I am learning; making my brain work my full tuition's worth. But a stranger phenomenon has been going on in the past couple of weeks, and I have realized I'm not only learning class material. Recently, I have had such problems reading sections out of my textbook. I read one sentence over and over because I am not processing what it is saying. In addition, I keep getting distracted with preexisting thoughts and disorganized items out of the corner of my eye. And only a few months ago I could focus intensely on my text and read through 20 pages in a relatively short time. What is going on here?

In addition, my writing is sloppy and when I try to take notes neatly, my hand spasms and my line goes out of control creating ugly, boyish writing. But the most serious symptom I've been having is that of laziness! My mind still believes it is on summer break, and after class each day I feel as though it is time to relax; to chill, persay. At the end of last year I always automatically shifted into homework mode at the end of each day, and now I just want to bum in my chair.

With these noticable issues, I have concluded that summer has knocked the school out of me. Of course it does every year, but for some reason it is much more noticable this fall. Perhaps it means I had a highly enjoyable summer, having fun to the max (which may be true for the last part) and displacing (inadvertently) all the stress and skills needed to be a good student. However, there is hope. Luckily, time and a few weeks' experience will bring me back into the student superhighway and I will be flying through homework again. And to that I say, "Amen!"

Function, Form, and the Dying Planet

I have never quite realized how amazing the human mind is. How diverse one mind can be from another. A friend began talking about it on the bus tonight, and it got me thinking. She and I are both writers. Therefore, we concluded, we see the world in similar ways. And it was true; we see things everyday and scrutinize them, observe their aesthetical characteristics, decide how they relate to other things, and above all, decide how we would describe them in our writing. She said that other people may look at the same things and see something completely different, which was an intriguing thought. I immediately thought of my brother, and how opposite his mind is from mine. Being a biochemistry/molecular biology major, he sees things for how they function. From a very early age, he has always wanted to know how things worked, what things were made of, and how these things worked to make an object do something. If we both looked at a car, he would classify it as a machine with many parts that work together to make the car move so people could travel from one place to another. However, I would look at the car and think that I could successfully photograph it in front of an attractive background. Or I'd wonder what journeys it would take in its lifetime. Or maybe I would be drawn to its color or shape; edges and lines. Perhaps they would tell a story. The differences between what we see are amazing.

One thing I'm glad for is that there are these different-minded people in our world, and they all work together to think of new things and keep our world popping with culture. Unfortunately, we are now in an enviornmental crisis and luckily there are people working to create new fuel and energy sources, as well as stop global warming. The creative people might come up with the ideas, and the engineers, like my brother, execute those ideas. We are not all Leonardo da Vincis who are skilled at everything. I believe every person on the planet contributes something new, some new perspective or idea to our life, and ultimately, it might save us one day.

The Wind Runners

Tonight is my last night of summer break. I sit here listening to the humbling sounds of violin and piano sweeping into my ears with every high and low note. Music from "The Village" composed by James Newton Howard. As I listen, I am drifting away and a storyline accompanies the score.

...I am running over hills of wheat and under tree shadows and suddenly I am stopped by a river at my feet. But there is a bridge downstream, and I trample its cobblestones and reach the other side where I burst into a field of corn. I hold my arms up to block the husks from hitting me in the face as I run down the row. My sneakers kick up dirt and finally I break through the edge. A road. A long road that leads somewhere. I stop and look around. The sun is breaking through the atmosphere and wind runners stir the corn. The wind runners rush by and make a breeze. They push me to keep running. Running down the road this August day...

I don't know why I'm running, but I think it's because the music makes me want to. It runs, and it stops, and it runs again. But this 19th century score somehow also makes me realize reality. All that I have accomplished and all that I have to do can be accompanied with this dramatic music, and it urges me to go on. I have alot to do this fall at school and with every pull of a violin bow is a paper written, a step towards the final product. Maybe if I travel down that road, I will reach my destination; a place called Success.

The Psychology of Male Behavior

The Psychology of Male Behavior--A study conducted by Margaret Behling from the University of Personal Studies

I often find myself thinking about men. More specifically, their role in our society. There are three things I've noticed about men. (1) Men are strong. They do indeed posess a great deal of upper body strength, which can be quite beneficial in a number of situations. Men help us lift things and are the brauns of the operation. It is no accident that mostly men are firefighters and police officers. These jobs are highly physical and not easily executed by women. I've also noticed that (2) men are fixers. They want to get their hands dirty and have the satisfaction of correcting a plagued something. They are doctors, mechanics, and plumbers. (3) Men are also builders. They are construction workers, engineers, and architects. But along with these skills and strengths come specific male behavior. Why do men enjoy the thrill of getting into bar fights and showing off their athletic abilities to women? It's obvious natural behavior but what they don't realize is that those types of behavior were attractive to the female species homo-erectus two million years ago, not today's modern women. Two million years ago females looked for those characteristics in a mate who could use his strength to kill the wildebeast and feed the family; nowadays that role has taken on a different definition. Men fail to realize that their emotional support, love, and other intangible characteristics are most important to women today. Men today are indeed concerned about holding that ancient role in society; to be strong, tough, and beefy, especially as women are rising on the social ladder. But "UG!!" say we women. Today's men are afraid to use lotion when their skin is cracking in dehydration; afraid to wear pink, and even drive certain vehicles or eat certain foods for fear it may be "too feminine." However, I'd squeak with delight if I could find a man who could let himself do these things because to me, a REAL man doesn't give a hoot about what his friends think and takes satisfaction in doing what he enjoys. Men need to know that they will never lose their place in society because women honestly can't do everything themselves. But in addition, they need to better realize what female homo sapiens look for in a mate in the 21st century. Clearly their brains have not developed much in the last two million years to realize it!! But for the most part, our men do a fine job in our society and we couldn't do it without them!

The Beach House

I wish I lived in a beach house. I'd like to move away and live all by myself.

....I wear a bold blue and white-striped shirt with khaki bermuda shorts. Leather flip flops sit beside me at the shore. Sand gushing between my toes and the ocean sneaking up to my feet with each pulsing wave. Sea gulls gawking above. And hulking white clouds about to swallow the sky with every tumorous growth, relfected in my giant sunglasses. My house is made of glass and wood and steel. It is contemporary and cool. Driftwood and beach grass lie haphazardly and I kick back in paradise...

So let's do it. Let's go shopping and get the attire, buy a plane ticket to South Carolina, and get a home loan. Why not? But I think I'd like to change one thing. I'd like some friends to pop in once in a while because it is lonely on that beach. Lonliness can only keep me company for so long, which is why I think the beach house is more of a vacation home. I think I'll stay here for now with my wonderful friends. Without them, life's a beach.