Whenever I listen to certain songs, I automatically think back to the first time I heard them. In some cases, that makes me like the song even more. In others, the associated memories are so negative that I can't listen to them. For example, I haven't listened to "Virus Alert" by Weird Al in several years because that's the song I was listening to in the hospital when my grandpa died. It's an automatic response-I can't get rid of the association because it keeps cropping up like one of those flashy, immortal pop-ups that appear on the computer.
Most of the associations create more meaning for the song. I first heard "Summertime Clothes" by Animal Collective on a very warm day in July at theater camp. I've been listening to that song more often now that it's getting colder because it reminds me of summer. Likewise, I listen to "Oh Comely" by Neutral Milk Hotel more often in the summer because it reminds me of snow.
First impressions of a song can really change your perspective on it. The first time I heard "Hot Air Balloons" by Owl City was at 3 a.m. in Chicago. One of my roommates on the Chicago trip had set her phone's alarm so we would wake up at the righ time. For some reason, I was the only one who woke up when the phone started blasting "Hot Air Balloons" at that ungodly hour. I turned it off, but it went off three more times. Eventually, groggy and unreasonable, I slammed the phone against the wall. When that didn't work, I decided the next logical thing to do would be to place the phone high on the bathroom shelf, smothered under a pile of towels. The sound of that phone was like the sound of the Telltale Heart to me-maddening.
And now, I can't stand the song "Hot Air Balloons". I hope I never have to hear it again. If I do, I will think back to that cold night in Chicago when I, exhausted, was nearly driven mad by a phone. And it won't be pretty.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
We stink!
According to our French teacher, French peopple think Americans smell bad.
You're probably laughing-"US? WE smell bad?"-but it's kind of true when you think about it. Right now, I smell like a myriad of products-rosemary, mint, lemon, vanilla, cocoa, almond, butterfly flower, and lavendar. And it smells weird. Americans use so many types of lotions and perfumes to make ourselves smell good that we often produce a heavy, cloying smell. People in the US say that people in other countries smell bad because they don't wear as much deodorant or perfume, but anyone who has ever smelled PINK perfume knows that the foreigners may be on to something.
I don't know why I felt the need to write this. I guess it's because I just took a shower and the smell of shampoo is following me everywhere.
You're probably laughing-"US? WE smell bad?"-but it's kind of true when you think about it. Right now, I smell like a myriad of products-rosemary, mint, lemon, vanilla, cocoa, almond, butterfly flower, and lavendar. And it smells weird. Americans use so many types of lotions and perfumes to make ourselves smell good that we often produce a heavy, cloying smell. People in the US say that people in other countries smell bad because they don't wear as much deodorant or perfume, but anyone who has ever smelled PINK perfume knows that the foreigners may be on to something.
I don't know why I felt the need to write this. I guess it's because I just took a shower and the smell of shampoo is following me everywhere.
Things That You Think
While writing my latest blog post, I kept on thinking about my abysmal EQ score (5/20) and how my memory might relate to that.
Maybe I'm not as robotic as the EQ test would suggest. For example, I am unable to let go of the past. Not because I don't want to let go, but because I can't. So yes, sadness naturally recurs over certain subjects, and when I see someone I don't like I can't help remember why I'm angry with them in the first place. "Once my sobs have been released", I do not feel great because I still remember so clearly why I was sad.
Also, I have a hard time dealing with others' grief because in the past, I've made things worse while trying to comfort people. It's funny, but I'm defined by my past. I guess that's why my EQ test was so skewed-I have emotions and I can handle them, but old emotions float up to the surface so often that I have too many of them and end up just ignoring them.
Stupid memory!
Maybe I'm not as robotic as the EQ test would suggest. For example, I am unable to let go of the past. Not because I don't want to let go, but because I can't. So yes, sadness naturally recurs over certain subjects, and when I see someone I don't like I can't help remember why I'm angry with them in the first place. "Once my sobs have been released", I do not feel great because I still remember so clearly why I was sad.
Also, I have a hard time dealing with others' grief because in the past, I've made things worse while trying to comfort people. It's funny, but I'm defined by my past. I guess that's why my EQ test was so skewed-I have emotions and I can handle them, but old emotions float up to the surface so often that I have too many of them and end up just ignoring them.
Stupid memory!
Memories
As anyone who knows me will tell you, I have an unusually poor memory in some cases but an astoundingly detailed one in others. For example, I rarely remember when I have a test or quiz. I'll walk into the classroom and say, "Wait, do we have test today?" and everyone else will groan. But I can remember random days from when I was as young as two. It makes no sense to me; I'd rather be prepared for class than know where I was on a random Wednesday seven years ago, but there's nothing I can do.
I should clarify that my long-term memory is selective; I can't remember every day of my life, but for some reason I can remember large bits and pieces. So I can remember:
"When we went to Grandma's birthday party when I was three, we went to a restaurant in Akron. It had vegetable-themed decorations, and we sat between a large asparagus pillar and the far right corner, slightly elevated. It was a buffet, and I had mashed potatoes. After that, we went to the art museum to see a display of glass sculptures and modern art."
Yeah, that memory is weird, but it's true. But I can't remember:
"We have a test this Thursday."
When we went to Chicago last February for a class trip, I kept recognizing places. No one believed me because I hadn't been to Chicago in over ten years, but I looked through old pictures and it turned out I was right. It wasn't just the Pier or the museums that I recognized, it was weird stuff like food courts and streets.
I would consider this type of memory to be more of a curse than a blessing. Even if you can remember things doesn't mean you should, or want to. I can't forget the past; I remember deaths, betrayals, and other unpleasantries equally vividly as good memories.
Plus there's the fact that no one believes me anyway, or really even cares what I did on the second day of summer break in 2003. I would rather be able to remember short-term things. My cramming technique for studying would be a lot more effective if I could actually remember the information, rather than my mind going completely blank when I don't have that information in front of me.
I should clarify that my long-term memory is selective; I can't remember every day of my life, but for some reason I can remember large bits and pieces. So I can remember:
"When we went to Grandma's birthday party when I was three, we went to a restaurant in Akron. It had vegetable-themed decorations, and we sat between a large asparagus pillar and the far right corner, slightly elevated. It was a buffet, and I had mashed potatoes. After that, we went to the art museum to see a display of glass sculptures and modern art."
Yeah, that memory is weird, but it's true. But I can't remember:
"We have a test this Thursday."
When we went to Chicago last February for a class trip, I kept recognizing places. No one believed me because I hadn't been to Chicago in over ten years, but I looked through old pictures and it turned out I was right. It wasn't just the Pier or the museums that I recognized, it was weird stuff like food courts and streets.
I would consider this type of memory to be more of a curse than a blessing. Even if you can remember things doesn't mean you should, or want to. I can't forget the past; I remember deaths, betrayals, and other unpleasantries equally vividly as good memories.
Plus there's the fact that no one believes me anyway, or really even cares what I did on the second day of summer break in 2003. I would rather be able to remember short-term things. My cramming technique for studying would be a lot more effective if I could actually remember the information, rather than my mind going completely blank when I don't have that information in front of me.
I'll get to it...EVENTUALLY!
Today, on this lovely Sunday, I find myself in a place I've been many times, and will probably continue to find myself for years to come: at the computer, doing homework because I forgot about it until now or procrastinated. Actually, let's be honest: I just procrastinated.
I wish I could stop putting things off, but at this point it doesn't seem likely to happen. Truthfully, it's a lot more motivating to get something done when it's 11:00 rather than 3:00. It's obviously not a very healthy study system, but it works for now. I tend to underestimate the amount of homework I have, leading to the "I can do it after dinner" mentality I'm stuck in. And after that, the hours just fly by in a mad dash to get everything done. That's without a wrench being thrown into the system, such as the printer being out of ink or my computer freezing up. When that happens, all hell breaks loose and then I put off solving my problem until the morning.
In the morning, I usually get ready first, then do homework and fix computer issues, then eat if I'm lucky. And then when I get to school, I brag about how late I stayed up and how early I woke up. We really will brag about anything.
But hey, at least I'm being proactive today. I'm doing some of my homework before dinner. Small victories.
Amanda Show-Procrastination-This is so me.
I wish I could stop putting things off, but at this point it doesn't seem likely to happen. Truthfully, it's a lot more motivating to get something done when it's 11:00 rather than 3:00. It's obviously not a very healthy study system, but it works for now. I tend to underestimate the amount of homework I have, leading to the "I can do it after dinner" mentality I'm stuck in. And after that, the hours just fly by in a mad dash to get everything done. That's without a wrench being thrown into the system, such as the printer being out of ink or my computer freezing up. When that happens, all hell breaks loose and then I put off solving my problem until the morning.
In the morning, I usually get ready first, then do homework and fix computer issues, then eat if I'm lucky. And then when I get to school, I brag about how late I stayed up and how early I woke up. We really will brag about anything.
But hey, at least I'm being proactive today. I'm doing some of my homework before dinner. Small victories.
Amanda Show-Procrastination-This is so me.
Monday, November 22, 2010
I Am A Proud Grammar Geek
The one thing I find most irritating about Facebook, texting, Twitter, and computers in general is how they have apparently made grammar and spelling go right out the window. Are people that lazy or that strapped for time that they just neglect some of the most basic elements of the English language?
To a lot of people it may not seem that important, but eventually it will add up. Many say that it's actually beneficial, but I just think it makes people sound stupid. I'm not talking about writing "its" instead of "it's" or not capitalizing words. I mean consistently misspelling simple words like "friend", "what", and "does". As a grammar freak, it really bothers me. I hope I'm not the only one.
"omg liek wuts rong wit spelin lik diss? im not stupidd so dont pertend 2 b all smartr n beter thn me! if anythin i m th smarter perssn her"
Yeah. Real quote (not directed at me). My eyeballs nearly popped out of my sockets when I read this. And it does make you seem stupid. Like, really, really stupid.
Idiocracy-Wikipedia
To a lot of people it may not seem that important, but eventually it will add up. Many say that it's actually beneficial, but I just think it makes people sound stupid. I'm not talking about writing "its" instead of "it's" or not capitalizing words. I mean consistently misspelling simple words like "friend", "what", and "does". As a grammar freak, it really bothers me. I hope I'm not the only one.
"omg liek wuts rong wit spelin lik diss? im not stupidd so dont pertend 2 b all smartr n beter thn me! if anythin i m th smarter perssn her"
Yeah. Real quote (not directed at me). My eyeballs nearly popped out of my sockets when I read this. And it does make you seem stupid. Like, really, really stupid.
Idiocracy-Wikipedia
Life Without IB (Shoutout to Tori)
So Tori's latest post is about what her life would be like without IB. I kind of stole that topic from her. Anyways, my life with out IB would be:
?
I don't really know what I would be doing if I weren't in IB. It's been pretty much decided since I was a freshman. I guess I'd be in AP classes. I feel like if I hadn't done IB, I wouldn't be as motivated as I am now. If you had told me last year, "You are going to spend your entire afternoon working on this English paper. Then you will have to do two pages of math. After that, you can either work on that history essay or do some syllabus statements for bio. Don't forget to read and do your journal for French. No, you can't watch TV," I would have said, "Screw this. I'll just tell my teachers I forgot to do the homework," and kick back with a bowl of popcorn to watch a movie. I still want to do that, but it's like it's not even an option. I like and respect my teachers too much to do that. I mean, I've always respected my teachers, it's just that it's a lot harder to slip by unnoticed when there are nine people in your class.
If I weren't in IB, I probably wouldn't be friends (not to be presumptuous, but it's true) with most of the people in our IB class. Or we wouldn't be as good of friends. Despite the fact that it's easy to get annoyed or bored, I think that having classes with all the same people is my favorite part of IB. Now I don't have to socialize or meet new people at all! A socially awkward person's dream come true!
Life without IB might be less stress-free but I'm told it's like a dress rehearsal for college. Imagine, for all you people in theater, if you were told to perform a play without having rehearsed it. I imagine that wouldn't go very well at all. It's giving us all a dose of stress now so we won't have to have as much later.
?
I don't really know what I would be doing if I weren't in IB. It's been pretty much decided since I was a freshman. I guess I'd be in AP classes. I feel like if I hadn't done IB, I wouldn't be as motivated as I am now. If you had told me last year, "You are going to spend your entire afternoon working on this English paper. Then you will have to do two pages of math. After that, you can either work on that history essay or do some syllabus statements for bio. Don't forget to read and do your journal for French. No, you can't watch TV," I would have said, "Screw this. I'll just tell my teachers I forgot to do the homework," and kick back with a bowl of popcorn to watch a movie. I still want to do that, but it's like it's not even an option. I like and respect my teachers too much to do that. I mean, I've always respected my teachers, it's just that it's a lot harder to slip by unnoticed when there are nine people in your class.
If I weren't in IB, I probably wouldn't be friends (not to be presumptuous, but it's true) with most of the people in our IB class. Or we wouldn't be as good of friends. Despite the fact that it's easy to get annoyed or bored, I think that having classes with all the same people is my favorite part of IB. Now I don't have to socialize or meet new people at all! A socially awkward person's dream come true!
Life without IB might be less stress-free but I'm told it's like a dress rehearsal for college. Imagine, for all you people in theater, if you were told to perform a play without having rehearsed it. I imagine that wouldn't go very well at all. It's giving us all a dose of stress now so we won't have to have as much later.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
I Have Confidence! Oh wait no I don't...
Yesterday started out hectic. I was freaking out about Academic Challenge; I was so unbelievably nervous. More nervous than I had ever been at Power of the Pen, probably because this time I had other people relying on me, and I felt I would disappoint them if I gave a wrong answer. Plus it would be caught on camera.
I was shaking spastically as I sat down at the desk. I've done so many rounds of Quiz Bowl that you'd think I would stop getting so nervous, but no. I tried to look confident in the hopes that I could trick myself into feeling more confident, but the second the cameras staarted rolling, it was back to square one.
Technically I'm not supposed to divulge how we did, but I can say that I learned to trust myself more. I am rarely confident; the message that I can trust that I know the correct answers never seems to sink in. No matter how many times I get questions right, I still fear that the next question I answer will be the one that I get wrong. This isn't just in Quiz Bowl, either, it's in all aspects of my life. I am just never confident, no matter how much I may look the part. I know that that will keep me from earning a Darwin Award, but it will probably hinder me a lot too.
I was shaking spastically as I sat down at the desk. I've done so many rounds of Quiz Bowl that you'd think I would stop getting so nervous, but no. I tried to look confident in the hopes that I could trick myself into feeling more confident, but the second the cameras staarted rolling, it was back to square one.
Technically I'm not supposed to divulge how we did, but I can say that I learned to trust myself more. I am rarely confident; the message that I can trust that I know the correct answers never seems to sink in. No matter how many times I get questions right, I still fear that the next question I answer will be the one that I get wrong. This isn't just in Quiz Bowl, either, it's in all aspects of my life. I am just never confident, no matter how much I may look the part. I know that that will keep me from earning a Darwin Award, but it will probably hinder me a lot too.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
V for Vendetta
I'm watching V for Vendetta right now, and I just thought I'd write down some thought-provoking quotes. If you haven't seen it, it's a really good movie and could potentially raise a lot of discussion (maybe we could watch it in TOK...?).
"Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneathn this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof."
"Artists use lies to tell the truth, and politicians use them to cover the truth up."
"There are no coincidences, Delia, only the illusion of coincidence."
"People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people."
"Truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look in a mirror."
"Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneathn this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof."
"Artists use lies to tell the truth, and politicians use them to cover the truth up."
"There are no coincidences, Delia, only the illusion of coincidence."
"People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people."
"Truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look in a mirror."
John Wayne Gacy, Jr
How do some people go so terribly awry? I'm going to use serial killers as my example. How on earth was John Wayne Gacy Jr. able to live with himself after killing twenty-seven people? He did it without any emotion-he knew it was wrong, which didn't motivate him to stop; he was just more careful. I think what disturbs me most about serial killers is their lack of repentance-they rarely seem to show any guilt or even emotions. Most people seem more upset when they hear the name "Jeffery Dahmer" than the actual Jeffrey Dahmer seemed at his trial.
It's not as simple as locking them up or executing them. It won't make any difference to them. Because what defines right and wrong? Who are we to refute someone else’s reality and replace it with our own? Just because I believe killing animals is wrong does not mean you do. Is my sense of morality more valid than yours, and if so, why? Can our realities coexist without one having to trump the other, even though, by nature, one cannot really exist while the other does? Serial killers’ minds seem to be governed by a different set of parameters than those of most people. But that’s their reality-a reality which may seem just as upside-down to us as ours may seem to them. And it’s just as real to them as ours is to us. So how can we say that they were wrong-we are invalidating their reality and replacing it with one we deem acceptable. It’s putting a square peg in a round hole and expecting it to fit. Even though there are more round pegs we can't pretend those square pegs don't exist.
I guess what I'm trying to say is not that serial killers are normal or right, but that they live in a world that is not governed by the same rules of right and wrong as that in which most people live. I know Tori will probably jump in with a psychological reason for serial killers, but this is more from a philosophical standpoint.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
A Reflection on my Absolute Squeamishness
If I could change one thing about myself, it would not be my hair. It would not be my nose, nor my eyes or my height. It wouldn't be my personality or my work ethic.
It would be my irrational, pathological, all-encompassing fear and/or hatred of blood and the body in general. It's really my biggest weakness. And the problem is, I know it shouldn't be. Many people view bodies as amazing biological machines; I view them as squirm-inducing sacks of organs. I'm not afraid of spiders, snakes, bats, rats, dogs, water, darkness, or even death; I'm afraid of something I will never be able to escape-my own body.
It wouldn't be nearly so bad if there had been a terrifying moment in my childhood involving blood. But no-I just remember always hating it. When I was two I had to get surgery, and the first thing I did when I woke up was go berserk and rip the IV cord out of my arm. For weeks I refused to even look at my leg, which was where the stitches were. When I was five, I escaped out of the doctor's office when it was time to get a shot; five nurses had to prise my hands off a scale and hold me to a chair while I got the shot. I still want to do that now, but I'm usually too weak at the knees to consider putting up such a fight.
It's more than just a fear-I have absolutely no tolerance for it. I can't take my pulse. I can't have my blood pressure taken. I sometimes even turn off music if the drums sound too much like a heartbeat. And forget about IVs, shots, and even remotely medical TV shows. I don't even know what I'll do when we have to dissect animals in Biology-I will say or do literally anything to get out of that. The Bodies Exhibit was bad enough. And what happens if I ever have to give blood? What if I have a heart disease? I don't know what else I can say to convey the fact that everything related to the body is intolerable to me. It's not necessarily fear, but that's the easiest way to phrase it. It's more like my mind simply cannot stand the thought of it and will do anything to get away.
The only good thing that has come of this is that I don't laugh at other people's fears. On TV, you always see people who are deathly afraid of peaches or cotton balls going on shows. The host invariably pulls out a peach or whatever it is the person is afraid of, and the audience laughs at the person's terrified reaction. I think that simultaneously scaring and humiliating the person would just make it worse. I mean, I could put my hand on my neck and count my pulse for hours, but that wouldn't make each second any less torturous.
This is going to sound really melodramatic, but I wish every day that I will suddenly be cured, that I will be able to learn about the kidneys without flinching, that I will be able to watch Band of Brothers without cringing and turning it off. But I know it's not going to happen.
And yeah, I did get kind of squeamish while writing this post.
It would be my irrational, pathological, all-encompassing fear and/or hatred of blood and the body in general. It's really my biggest weakness. And the problem is, I know it shouldn't be. Many people view bodies as amazing biological machines; I view them as squirm-inducing sacks of organs. I'm not afraid of spiders, snakes, bats, rats, dogs, water, darkness, or even death; I'm afraid of something I will never be able to escape-my own body.
It wouldn't be nearly so bad if there had been a terrifying moment in my childhood involving blood. But no-I just remember always hating it. When I was two I had to get surgery, and the first thing I did when I woke up was go berserk and rip the IV cord out of my arm. For weeks I refused to even look at my leg, which was where the stitches were. When I was five, I escaped out of the doctor's office when it was time to get a shot; five nurses had to prise my hands off a scale and hold me to a chair while I got the shot. I still want to do that now, but I'm usually too weak at the knees to consider putting up such a fight.
It's more than just a fear-I have absolutely no tolerance for it. I can't take my pulse. I can't have my blood pressure taken. I sometimes even turn off music if the drums sound too much like a heartbeat. And forget about IVs, shots, and even remotely medical TV shows. I don't even know what I'll do when we have to dissect animals in Biology-I will say or do literally anything to get out of that. The Bodies Exhibit was bad enough. And what happens if I ever have to give blood? What if I have a heart disease? I don't know what else I can say to convey the fact that everything related to the body is intolerable to me. It's not necessarily fear, but that's the easiest way to phrase it. It's more like my mind simply cannot stand the thought of it and will do anything to get away.
The only good thing that has come of this is that I don't laugh at other people's fears. On TV, you always see people who are deathly afraid of peaches or cotton balls going on shows. The host invariably pulls out a peach or whatever it is the person is afraid of, and the audience laughs at the person's terrified reaction. I think that simultaneously scaring and humiliating the person would just make it worse. I mean, I could put my hand on my neck and count my pulse for hours, but that wouldn't make each second any less torturous.
This is going to sound really melodramatic, but I wish every day that I will suddenly be cured, that I will be able to learn about the kidneys without flinching, that I will be able to watch Band of Brothers without cringing and turning it off. But I know it's not going to happen.
And yeah, I did get kind of squeamish while writing this post.
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