Have you ever wanted to throw out some British slang, but refrain, because you aren't sure if it might be something horribly vulgar? I do that a lot.

I am so ready to be done with school.  Yes, that sounds horribly demoralized, since I'm only midway through the first semester of my freshman year, but I think I have pretty much gotten over any novelty of being a college student.  I hate research projects more than ever.  I find sleep simultaneously rapturous (I think that's self-explanatory) and a dreadful nuisance (it takes up so much time!  And just pushes all my deadlines that much closer).  Can't I just sit here and research Byzantine history on my own?  I love Byzantine history.  I'd do it, honest.  Why do I have to spend so much money to listen to somebody else who's already done the research?

Sometimes I wonder what I have to offer in words.  All my days pretty much sounds the same to me.  School, procrastination, meltdown, bus rides, getting lost.  I'm so moody I don't even have good and bad days; I have good and bad periods which consist of three or four hours.  Or minutes.  In the metaphorical version of my Magic Mary Poppins Bag of Everything, I have a few dozen anecdotes of encounters with crazy people, funny people, nice people, "interesting" people, and flat-out "what-the-heck-are-you-DOING-on-the-same-planet-as-me?" people.  But how interesting would those little vignettes be if you weren't there (or if I'm not there is person to reenact it for you?  That's half the fun).  I think I'll be a mime for Halloween.

Whoever decided not to put a jump button into the player controls for Legend of Zelda games needs to have their brains rearranged.  Or at least the glitches in their games.  Kudos to my little brothers for putting up with my hollering fits at the television because my shapeshifted character can't climb up onto a single crate to cross the dragon/bird/thing infested bridge.  Or because I accidentally fell off a rooftop and died.  Sixteen times in a row.  it really might be a fun game, if it were a little more versatile in the roleplaying aspect.  (And if my game weren't the one with all the mysterious non-canon twists.  Haha.)

I miss my friends.  Some of them have changed into different people (or weren't who i thought they were to begin with), some have moved far away, one is off at college, and some I just don't see at the times when I would really like to talk to them.  I need could consider getting a Skype.  I need to My life would be easier if I would get over my fear of talking on the phone.  I need think I need to stop thinking so much.

I was an hour late to school yesterday because of a tornado warning.  I was on the bus for two hours instead of fifty minutes.  It really wasn't as exciting as everyone made it sound, though.  I just got rained on.  And had to chase after my fedora (which thankfully blew into an empty parking lot and not the traffic-infested street).  it is über windy tonight, though, which is a bit poetically adventurous — very Emily Brontë. 

(Did you see that?  I worked the trema diacritic twice into one sentence without throwing in any Elvish.)

(Did you see that?  I managed to geek out about my geekiness while simultaneously referencing another geeky fact about myself.)

“We all experience many freakish and unexpected events - you have to be open to suffering a little. The philosopher Schopenhauer talked about how out of the randomness, there is an apparent intention in the fate of an individual that can be glimpsed later on. When you are an old guy, you can look back, and maybe this rambling life has some through-line. Others can see it better sometimes. But when you glimpse it yourself, you see it more clearly than anyone.” 

         — Viggo Mortensen

Paper faces on parade!

Today...(or, rather yesterday, since I probably won't get this post up before midnight) we finally enacted the "impromptu" (Improv Kalamazoo...shh) 

Masquerade For the Modern Man and Woman.

Destination:  Westnedge Panera Bread & the Crossroads Mall.  

Mission:  Be nonchalantly amazing.  

Garb of choice:  Formal floor-length gowns & masquerade masks.  (I also nabbed a fringy scarf-shawl accessory and some flipping sweet black ruffled elbow-length gloves {which i have been dying to own for literally years.  This was the perfect excuse}.  Thank you thrift stores!)  I wanted to homemake my mask, which EVERYONE else did, but I didn't have time.  However, I'm quite happy with the one I found.  Feathers abounded.

Attendees:  6 lovely ladies (unfortunately a lot of people wound up unable to come.  It was likely too short notice for the busy collegiates and their jobs.  Mmph).  And...our undercover camerapeople were in a car accident (!) en route, which we didn't discover until afterwards.  (From firsthand Facebook reports, everyone seems mostly fine.)  Also, two of Emily's HPA friends showed up last-minute, dressed, respectively, 1.in a (homemade! Amazing!) Elizabeth Swann style gown, and 2. as The Phantom of the Opera.  'Twas veritably pretty cool, but I didn't get the chance to actually talk to them.

Stop numero uno:  Panera Bread.  

This was all right.  We didn't get too much attention here.  (Unfortunately, we picked the same weekend to do this as Portage Northern's homecoming, so everyone who did stop us was either like, "Dance tonight?  *wink, wink*" or "Oh, you're the homecoming court for Portage Northern!"  We responded with as much proper impromptuness as possible— "No, sorry.  we're just out looking for our princes.  Getting a bite to eat before going to the ball."  (This garnered both some skeptical/wary glances and some laughs and good luck wishes.)  A few employees did tell us we looked lovely, and two little girls passing by the window on the way in just pressed up against it and gaped in awe.  (So adorable.)  However, after our Unofficial Board Meeting In Which we Attempted To Brainstorm For Future Improv Plans But Instead Succeeded Mainly In Merely Reiterating Ideas Which Had Already Been Posted On Our Facebook Site, we decided to relocate to Crossroads Mall.

Stop number two: 

...was much more entertaining.  We split up into three groups and wandered, penniless princesses all, through the verse.  We got a lot more strange looks (you could literally see people whispering, "what the heck?") and queries about our dance of origin. By this time we had managed to relate our story with less stuttering and "Isn't-it-obvious-I'm-making-this-up-on-the-spot?" deer-in-the-headlights look, and it was actually quite fun.  Beth told one lady, "Oh, we're on a mission from King Robert to seek out our true loves! (Slow going.)"  She thought we were hilarious.  The clerk in a CD store we stopped in was even more nonchalant than we were.  (It was the same dude who sold me and Mom the new Daughtry album and the new Skilelt album last year!  Random observation.)  He was just like, "Oh, by the way, we have a whole 'nother box of stuff on sale in the back if you want to look."

We found this awesome store (the name of which I don't remember, sadly, but i'd know it if I saw it) that sold katanas and potted bamboo plants and kimonos and glass dragon statuettes and Oriental tea sets and other much awesomeness that I will go back to investigate if I ever make it back to that mall with money in hand (I had approximately 36¢ on me, all in pennies).  The katanas are unfortunately quite expensive, but who wouldn't want a bamboo plant??  Especially a curlicued one?  In a really awesome vase?  For under $10?  

I had safety-pinned part of the slit in the back of my dress, and it came apart in jcPenney's.  A slighty-older-lady employee ran us down to tell me (with great worry and furtiveness) that I would "be in a lot of hurt in a few minutes" if I didn't fix it.  Haha.  It was kind of embarrassing.  Especially when Beth whispered (loudly), "Quick!  Let's all gather round Kiersten while Cassie fixes it so nobody sees."  Haha...

But—overall—the night was quite a fabulous time, and will definitely have to go in our "Official Big Book" of stuff to do (again, later, when everyone isn't at homecoming!).  If I get a copy of any pictures, I will (try to) add them to this post.

I was originally going to stock up on my sadly neglected French and pretend not to know how to speak English, but i thought that might be going a little overboard, especially as our night was already a little frazzled due to our shrunken group of people and some lack of preorganization. Je ne le regrette pas.

A poem I wrote and liked, but which has no relevance to my life whatsoever.

Uncover my skin.  What do you see?  

The scars left by your silence, 

By my silence.

I would rather scars made by words.

But there have been none of those 

In the folds of the years.

The bald patches under my hat:

Places where dreams used to sit. 

Time has torn them away.

All I’m left with are blue bags under my eyes

From a century of sleepless nights.

Do you remember the sun in the sky

When we used to make promises with red hearts?

Then, we held hands

Without touching.

Now we touch without feeling.

Have the years so dimmed 

The way we breathe?

It’s only regulation love.

I see the same stripes on your back.

But I have no tears, no blood.

Not anymore.

Only deaf feathers are stitched in our sky

To fall like dry rain.

And I sit back to back with you.

When was the last time I heard my name?

Our autumn was so swift

After we thought summer would last forever.

And now we won’t live

To see the world even in green again.

I remember when I was your moon

And you, my dazzling sun.

But we have both faded into mere eyes in the darkness:

There was no supernova.

Only negligence.

  25 September 2010

Modesty (What's Going On Up There?)

Earlier today I was on Wikipedia—I don't even recall what I originally looking up; I tend to spend time just surfing Wikipedia, as geeky as that might sound—and I came across the article about The Rebelution, a Christian youth ministry self-described as "a teenage rebellion against the low expectations of ungodly culture."  this caught my eye in particular because I heard the founders, twins Alex and Brett Harris, featured on Focus on the Family not long ago, when they were about my age, and I'd thought their story was a pretty cool one.    In any case, I saw that a couple of years ago they did a modesty survey:  300-some hundred girls submitted questions about what in their behavior or dress provoked a guy's...masculine hormones, and during a 20-day period, over 1600 guys of all ages wrote in to give their opinions.  Yes-or-no statements were presented, and each guy rated how strongly they agreed with a statement, with the option for them to provide additional text responses.  Over about two hours, I surfed through the entire survey and read most of the text responses.  It was admittedly rather eye-opening.

As a Christian girl, I usually strive to dress and behave in a fashion I believe is modest and honoring to God.  Though, i must admit that throughout my more recent teen years at least some of that has been out of insecurity about my appearance, rather than a conscious desire to be modest.  
While I wasn't overtly surprised at a lot of guys' responses about how specific clothing items were or weren't stimulating to the imagination, I was startled at a lot of their reactions towards girls' intentional immodesty.  A lot of them said they feel insulted or degraded when a girl flaunts herself.  While I know a lot of guys want to keep their imaginations elsewhere and their minds pure, it hadn't occurred to me that guys would feel disrespected by girls' attempts to control or allure them by dressing provocatively as girls often feel disrespected when guys objectify them.  Just as not all girls want to be eye candy, not all guys are comfortable with seeing or imagining it.  It was actually surprisingly encouraging.  While it is obvious to me that upstanding Christian guys do exist who actually want to see less skin from a girl, it was awesome to see it from so many.  There were a few open questions at the end (e.g., "If you could say one thing to your sisters in Christ about modesty, what would it be?")  that were free text responses instead of multiple-choice scale, and that was the most encouraging of all.  I read a lot of informative and encouraging responses.  Most of them clearly expressed that in no way were they trying to shift all the blame for their lustful thoughts onto the way a girl dresses, but they expressed sincere appreciation over a girl's attempt to dress in way that wouldn't act as a "stumbling block" and actually said they find a modestly dressed girl "refreshing", especially in friendships.  A lot of them expressed that when a girl shows too much, it's actually really awkward.  

Last year I read Relient K's book The Complex Infrastructure Known as the Female Mind, where they "categorized" all the stereotypes of girls they'd observed over the years. (Quite humorous.  I recommend it, if you don't plan to take it too seriously.)  In the back they broke all guys down into a mere two categories: "The Ape" and "Mr. Wonderful".  "Each guy on the planet is The Ape and Mr. Wonderful...but each only on a part-time basis", they said.  The Ape is the utterly mannerless, more vulgar side that neglects personal hygiene, revolves around macho aggressiveness, laughs at horrifically dumb jokes, and tends to focus on girls in the more "unwholesome", hormonal-driven ways.  Mr. Wonderful, on the other hand, has "staggering good looks", adores and respects his family, is hardworking and driven (but not ruthless),intelligent, polite, humorous, trustworthy, considerate, the most outstandingly upstanding citizen around, has no annoying bad habits, and an undying romantic who treats his lady like a princess in absolutely every way.  "Each guy is a strange and beautiful mix of self-centered slob and selfless gentleman."  It is so bizarre (and, I confess, really funny) to me that they broke down girls into a dozen-plus basic categories and even then had to add a disclaimer saying, "This doesn't cover everyone", and then said, "All guys are a mix of THIS and THIS"—and it just baffles me. Girls don't even make that much sense to me some of the time—and I think I have a pretty femininely-wired brain, cognitively speaking.  How much more baffled can guys get?

But, I digress.  It was really refreshing to me to see, in plain black-and-white, so much desire in so many guys to be the "Mr. Wonderful", who wants to be driven by a focus on God and a desire to like a girl for her personality and spirit instead of driven by libido.  Even though I have seen those same desires and principles lived out in the lives of guys I know (and for whom I have a very hefty dose of respect and appreciation) it was pretty darn awesome to see so much in words.  I admit, occasionally it weirded me out to see the extent of detail guys could give in their answers, but it was kind of eye opening as well.  I—along with most girls, I think—really don't have a good understanding of just how visual the male brain is wired to be. And I'm like, if guys' minds conjure up this much even when they don't want to mentally undress us, how far does a guy who doesn't check his thoughts let his imagination wander?  To me, personally, it was a bit of a wakeup call, and definitely an inspiration.  

Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.  For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful.  1 Peter 3:1-5 (NIV)

Just a small-town girl, livin' in a lonely world...

I'm probably something like the nine thousand fourteenth person to use something related to that song as a blog post title.  But I don't care.  It seems to fit on just enough occasions for me to justifiably claim it as relevant to me.  Except that I've never been on a midnight train (to Georgia, Anywhere, or elsewhere) — which makes me a bit sad, as it sounds like a fun adventure. 

I am up in the most unfortunate of times.  Tonight I am plagued with a combination of the ever-present insomnia, stress concerning my humanities exam tomorrow, frustration over my disappearing phone, sadness about the moderately decrepit state of humanity, pain from the five different injuries I have sustained to my feet in the last day and a half (three of those from opening doors; on the last one I actually tore my shoe, which I'm very unhappy about), and the general blahness of the flu bug that I am likely coming down with.  I have a fever, chills, and my hands were very shaky for most of the morning and early afternoon despite that I ate a solid breakfast and a good late lunch.

Things I would like to accomplish in the exceedingly near future:  an A on my exam.  The successful acquisition of my Valley ID.  Solid nights of sleep for at least he remainder of this week.  To be able to attend "Masquerade For the Modern Man and Woman" this Friday at a location which I will not disclose for reasons that would be tedious to explain in pen and paper English right this moment. To cheer on my faithful immune system and thus avoid becoming really ill.  To make the devil really angry and God extra-happy.  
Oy, vivre la temporal ambition.

Ways I have discovered to meet cool people/random people/fellow eccentrics:  1) Wear cool hats.  Especially fedoras. 2) Smile at someone who looks confused, and be prepared to give directions.  3) Read Timothy Zahn, Isaac Asimov, or R.A. Salvatore.  Or any really thick book that is obviously not a textbook.
It turns out that the guy who rides my bus every day (the WMU student with a fauxhawk, aviator sunglasses, a feeble attempt at a goatee, a talent for conversing with garrulous old ladies, and a bright magenta Hello Kitty shoulder bag) is named Benji.  Rachel D. knows him.  She wants me to scare him on the bus, now that I know his name.  It's my secret weapon. (Update, Oct. 15th – turns out Rachel mentioned me to him, so now it's not really a secret weapon anymore. I missed my chance, darn it. :)
I feel tired.  It's quite a nice feeling.  I hope that tiredness will equal sleep, momentarily, after I post and plug my computer back in.  I actually originally had more to say, but choose not to say it tonight, as badly-needed sleep is taking precedence over my desire to presently extrapolate upon my thoughts in the farfetched fettle of the Web.

In other words — goodnight.  (I feel a song coming on, but I won't sing it.  You're welcome.)