Neurosis

Once again school draws to a close, and the flood of projects begins to loom threateningly. Am I worried? No, instead, I'm more concerned about my library shelves. I have this duty to fix all the labels, whether they are incorrect, messy, faded, or put on wrong. It's not too hard, but there is just one problem. See, while the specific place for the label is set, as well as the format and how large the spine must be to accommodate the label, the level of what constitutes an inappropriately faded label is entirely up to me. Yes, me, the perfectionist. Thus, I am making no progress, because I am constantly reassessing how bright the labels must be before I will leave them. I have reached near neurotic levels of obsession with this, and since I'm doing most of this in my super late night shifts, I'm really not even thinking clearly. I haven't even reached the section that I know most needs attention. To top this, the library ran out of label covers last night, so I can't even do anymore labels. This is my assessment project. Eek! I think I'm in trouble. Then, I've had this overwhelming desire just to go up to certain people who are in the library up to 15 minutes after close, which when the library is open till 12, is quite late, and tell them to just go home. I'm a good girl, so I won't. Oh, do I want to though. I really need to not take the late shift anymore now, I'm starting to get to the point where I'm so bored that I start analyzing my voice in relation to different patrons, and although fascinating, its slightly disturbing. Visit me?

Blah, break is silly...

Eh, I'm no where as far as I wanted to be with my reading, but that's ok. I've only got four books read, which is kinda pitiful. I suppose I should be blogging about them, but really, who even cares? I'm bored....spring break is no fun when your stuck at home and the only break from the constant demands of my family is the computer. I love my family, but every day that I'm at home I feel my self esteem slipping lower into that void of self repulsion. It's taken me long enough to get out of that, and I don't really want to go back to that place. Really, its only my roomie who managed to help me see how much I'm actually worth. Not that other people haven't tried, but I guess she's just the only one I trust because she doesn't have to be nice to me, and I know her motivations are pure. She simply tells me the truth, which isn't always so flattering. Being at home now is ruining two plus years of my self esteem building, and it happens every time I go home for more than a day. Yes, this is why Sundays tend to be downer days for me, and anyone who talks to me (yes, this includes you dav) is bound to be subjected to my little bouts of self destructive behavior. The longer I'm home the worse I get. The little one (actually not so little, he's a preteen) is driving me insane too. I don't think he's shut his mouth since I've come home. Imagine-a constant steam of babble, incoherent, but as soon as you tell him to be quiet, he runs off and spouts some lie about you, which results in a tantrum from one parent or an angry tirade from the other. This is precisely why Friday I'm going to babysit the whole day after lunch. Watching three small children is infinitely better than being at home and catering to my family's whims. Still, I have some hope for my self esteem left. Today I'm getting my hair cut, which hopefully will turn out ok. Most importantly though, I have some control in this matter!

Spring break, yay?

Ah spring break, bastion of college days... I'd like to say I'll be lying out on a beach somewhere, but I'm stuck in this snowy land. Oh well, doesn't mean I won't be having fun, eh? In return for a lovely picture of my roommate sunning on the beach of some western shore, I'm supposed to take a bikini clad picture of myself, sunning in the snow. (That was the deal, wasn't it, Kat?) Somehow I think she gets the better end of the deal. Perhaps I'll post said pictures up here sometime, but I really don't think I'm going to want to.

Instead of all the the beach fun, I shall be reading the whole break, and doing other...stuff. I checked out stacks of books though, so I'll review them as I read them. First off is Coraline by Neil Gaimon. I love his American Gods and Anansi Boys, so I thought this should be good. Now Coraline doesn't exactly inspire the same philosophic thought but it does offer some interesting questions. For example, the cat remarks that playing with mice is actually merciful. At first, I don't think many people would agree, claiming that the cat is simply cruel, dangling slim chances of freedom and terrorizing their prey. Although this is true, there is also a truth to the mercy aspect. As the cat reminds us, sometimes in the game, the mice do get free. Isn't that terror worth it, if for suffering it, some small chance of freedom arises from an almost certain doom? I think so. The cat was definitely my favorite character, due both to his demeanor and my inability to relate to Coraline. This quote is also one of his: "Now, you people have names. That's because you don't know who you are. We know who we are, so we don't need names." I like that quote, because its so true. Names have such immense power over the individual, they are the ultimate label. They tell us what family we belong to, if someone is married, and usually the gender. Once someone knows your name, you can't pretend that they are calling some other "you." There's a certain freedom in anonymity, when no one but you know your name. But do really use name to tell ourselves who we are? We can, if we're other orientated. We can use are name to judge our self worth, by connecting our names to others. Maybe the cat is right, you only need a name if you don't know who you are. Still, I like my name, I need my name, and maybe that says something about me too. Finally,this scene towards the end of the novel make me pause. Coraline throws the cat at the other mother, using the resulting confusion to grab the final object and to escape, with the cat. It seemed so blatantly wrong of Coraline to use the cat in such a way, an animal who only so recently had helped her and who feared the witch so much. Perhaps though it wasn't so much a betrayal of the cat, as it was an confession of ultimate trust. Coraline trusted the cat would do what needed to be done, even with out telling it, that she risked the few precious moments she had and her ultimate chance to rescue everyone on the ability of the cat to react and distract the other mother. Maybe she simply had no other choice.

The next book I'm reading is Five Fates, by Keith Laumer, Poul Anderson, Frank Herbert, Gordon Dickson, and Harlen Ellison. I'm currently on the forth fate fate, and I must say each fate takes quite an interesting spin on the introductory scenario. Right now, I must say I like Hebert and Dickson's takes the best, with Anderson's in second place. I'm not sure that I really like the fourth fate all the much though, this being Ellison's. I'll do a better review once I read the last fate, but right now... this bit form the introductory piece piqued my interest. "Bailey's last thought as the endless blackness closed in was of the words cut in granite over the portal to the Euthanasia Center: '...send me your tire, your poor, your hopeless, yearning to be free . To them I raise the lamp besides the brazen door...' ." It stuck me as an infinitely twisted way to use the words so intertwined with the Statue of Liberty and all she stands for. In a very odd way though, they fit...

I wax philosophical...

Seriously, I find myself most inspired at the library. There are very few place and people who have quite that effect on me, so thus, one again, my thoughts begin at the library. For those who don't know, I work at a library, and as I was processing some books today I came across this interesting quote. The quote: "The whole purpose of education is to change mirrors into windows." (Sydney J. Harris) Hmm, this seemed, at first to make a good point. It made sense, the more you learn, the more you begin to see the other where you once only saw yourself. How valid, how true. But isn't is not sad, that in trying to make those windows, to see through them, one can easily forget that every window is also a mirror? To forget to look at the reflection in the window can be just as much of a crime as to not look through it at all. Hold on, I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Windows, mirrors, huh? What do I even mean? Well for me anyway, this is what it means. Every window, every mirror (don't get technical on me, I know there are frameless one, I may get to that) and that frame represents a set of knowledge, an ideology, if you will. It may even be just a simple idea, anything that affects your mindset, consciously or not. A mirror is simply what reflects to you, a window what shows you beyond. To me, a window doesn't have to be restricted to that. It can also function as a mirror as well, albeit a mirror that allows you to see within and beyond. So in terms of an education, yes it is important for education to help expand the mind to new horizons. But what good is the knowledge of the world if it has no connection to you as an individual? If your adrift in a sea of ideas without the stability of a personal knowledge? Yes, I know we all have a base knowledge, but I mean something more personal, more real. Education needs to help us discover who we really are and what we can be.

Are we truly aware?

As I was browsing among the books I needed to shelve, I spied the book Red Scarf Girl, by Jiang Ji-li. It looked interesting, and a friend of mine is really into communism, so I thought I'd give it a shot. It's an interesting format for a history book, seeing as the author writes it as the memoirs of her twelve year old self, looking back through the lens of time. I anticipated that it would be a decent read, but I was wrong. It was amazing. The content itself was potent, but it also had that extra spark which inspires one to question and dwell upon the issues presented within. The book is about the Cultural Revolution in China, under Mao Zedong's leadership; and it highlights the smaller, more personal aspects often left out of history books. The sheer injustice of the situation that Ji-li finds herself in left me outraged, and I immediately thought about how lucky I am to live in a world where I have an equal freedom to fail or succeed to the degree that I choose. A world where I am free to define my own life, rather than trying to atone for the "crimes" of those in my families past. Imbued with these thoughts, I headed over to my suitemate's room to express my utter incredulity at the notion of such a system. I was so caught up in my zeal that her reaction caught me off guard. Rather than agreeing, or even respectfully disagreeing with me, she termed my subject of discussion as "stupid" and "unimportant". Thinking back on this now, I realize that this is probably a much more common sentiment than one would suppose. How many people actually care about the political possibilities of our past, and potentially our future? Then again, one may note the number of fans of communism, and I wonder how many of them actually know what it is. Sure, our history books tell us the basics, but that's really not what it is. My generation faces a disconnect for m the realities it poses. We've never had any experience with the real thing. To us, communism is an idealized possibility, it even sounds pretty good at first. However, if you look a little father, one can see that this is a for that would only truly be able to exist in a perfect society, something that is a bit of a rarity these days. A true society of equals is impossible, there will always someone who is a little bit more "equal" than the rest. The only difference is the sort of people this form of government advances. Don't kid yourselves, its not the most deserving; its not the hardest working; it's not the most intelligent. It may be those passed over by the other groups, but I don't mean the lower class. It doesn't unite the classes into one, rather it reverses them in a never ending cycle , a cycle that will eventually close in on everyone in it's path. It's not a system of selflessness, but one of selfishness. And I wonder, how many people see it for what it really is? How many people even care?

Obligations

Well... I did say I would write a blog about spandex and/or leggings...so here I go. I remember, and have pictures to prove it, wearing both items. Now I was a skinny kid, but those pants make me look fat. Let me assure you, I was underweight, so this wasn't a particularly easy task. Nevertheless, these things were comfortable, well, the leggings were anyways. I was never overly fond of spandex. Anyhow, as much as I dislike leggings now, I loved them then. Not only did they allow me the flexibility I needed, they were fashionable. Now I know the models weren't wearing them, but to a second-grader, that doesn't really matter, especially if all your friends are wearing them too. What more could you ask for? Like all things, leggings eventually lost their popularity and were relegated to the status of a has-been fad. That's why I was utterly surprised when I spotted a few people wearing leggings. Now these legging weren't even the solid, black kind that managed to hold on a little longer than the rest of their kind. No, these were the real deal, genuine flowered, polka dotted, and striped leggings. I was in shock. I had never thought, in truth, never even hoped, to see a that style again. But there they were, gaily sticking out beneath a denim skirt. It vaguely makes me wonder what "retro" item will be dredged up next. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can't possibly beat the return of leggings.

1984

So I just finished reading 1984, by George Orwell, and I really felt the urge to discuss it. Since very few of my friends actually enjoy reading, I figured I'd rant in my blog. Reading through 1984, several questions came to mind. Is Oceania possible, not just the country, but also the Party? Will the body, mind, or spirit induce the ultimate breakdown in an individual? Did the the Ministry of Love really kill every dissenter or was that just symbolic, to show the death if his ideas? Does the Brotherhood exist? Is war peace? Can you erase love? Oh, and there are scads more. Someday I'll answer them, but right now I wonder did Winston's hate cause his downfall and is love or hate more powerful? I think Winston's hate did, in fact, precipitate his downfall. This hate of Big Brother, coupled with curiosity, inspired every action Winston made against him. In the end, the all-consuming hate allowed him to switch to the opposite type of passion, fanatical love. The Party seems to believe that to know love , you must know hate. Winston's own intense hate allowed him to have that equally intense love. And that brings me to the question of the ultimate strength of of love versus hate. I would say love us the stronger, and there are many instances to both prove and disprove that. Julia's love conquers Winston's hate and Winston's hate turns to love. However, Winston's love for Julia failed before his hate of rats, and his hate of Big Brother outlasted all vestiges of his love. Ultimately, I see that neither is conclusively stronger.