lykomancer: (Oh Love Look at you)
- I'm in the kind of mood to write a new story or draw up a doujinshi or something like that. Maybe simply pick up a good fantasy novel or get sucked back into a good anime. I want to take a vacation from this reality into one fast-paced, exciting, nostalgic, terrible and wonderful and real and full of people I fall in love with and who will never love me because they are simply characters. I want to let my brain accumulate all sorts of new material, make new connections, stew in a marinade for a few days, and then come back to this world with a better sense of what the hell is going on.
I'd simply rewatch all of FMA (or any of the thirteen other series I've been hoarding on my hard drive), but I'm holding out until I lose my internet either through moving or through not being able to pay the bill.

- Talking to [profile] chauni last night made me realize how muh I miss Ashland. The soothing flow of mellow days, the calm ease that seems to fill the very air throughout the seasons, from the cool bite of autumn until the blaze of apathy-inducing heat at the end of summer. The rustle of the aspens and maples in the wind off the Lake. The slanting evening sunlight laying gold against the side of Wheeler Hall. The flat, deep blue ceiling of the sky. God, I could cry just thinking about it.

- I am fucking depressed. Even taking my meds like I'm supposed to, like a good girl. It's not enough. I'm still irrationally bitchy, cranky, tired, stressed, despairing, and hopeless. I hate you, dysfunctional brain chemistry. I want to stop sucking ass, so you better start recalibrating ASAP. This is not a suggestion; this is an order.

- I want to make more icons, but I struggle coming up with text. Amuse me and suggest something; maybe I'll use it. I really like icon-making; I'm just not that clever at matching an image with text. -_-;; I do think I'm getting pretty good at this particular little party-trick though, and I'm learning a lot about PS. I'll take requests, if anyone's actually interested.

- Speaking of FMA, Edward Elric has started to take over my life. I spend far too much of my time thinking about this made-up, not-real person, and it makes feel me sad and pathetic.
I'm not sure if I want an Ed in my life, or if I want to be Ed. Does the distinction matter?
...yeah, I think it does. I only wish I knew which one it was. (Ok, I don't mean that. Sitting back and thinking about it more makes me cringe at what either option might say about me. Dammit, I am not envious of a fictional character's personality traits! That's just fucking silly!)

- I want to go swimming and horseback riding. This is probably related to my Ashland-longings. I also want to actually feel happy, and not just tired, bored, amused, entertained, etc, etc... but that can be filed with the "I'm fucking depressed" rant.

Right. I'm going to go to set my alarm to get me up in the early afternoon and get my ass to bed.
lykomancer: (Hand me my leather)
So, yesterday morning Tom and I hopped in the car and drove three and a half hours to go and see a drag show.
No, not just any drag show...our alma mater Northland College's drag show.
Yeah, it was worth the trip.

The Show )

So I feel pretty good, if somewhat still tired from my sleep schedule being messed up again.
Onward to Jess's thoughts about her own gender and sexuality!

Be brave and make with the clicky-clicky )

Jess is what Jess is, and that is the definition of identity.
Jess likes what Jess likes, and that's all that matters as far as sexual preference goes.

And since I seem to be pretty regular about ending my posts with a note about going to bed...
I'm going to bed now!
lykomancer: (Jaded stupid and reckless...)
Returned safely from Ashland, no problems or incidences of note.

Babblings about my trip )

Furry freakiness )

I have officially been single for 19 months now.
(single = completely single; not dating, even casually; no real crushes or potential relationships; nothing; nada.)
Go me! (Or something.) *shrugs*

I have been unemployed for 5 months.
Go me! I'm a lazy slacker bum and proud!

...God, I think I need to go pass out. I still feel messed up from last night.
lykomancer: (Default)
Today is not my last day of work...
...but it is the last day I am going, because tomorrow I am calling in and then going up to Ashland, where my (nor Tom's) cell phone gets reception, and I am taking a week-long vacation.
I don't feel bad about this much.
(I mean, I do, because I feel really irresponsible, and I feel bad for the people I am abandoning on their shifts, and I feel nervous that Tom will find out and get really mad, and lots of other things...but it's not enough to make me stay here for three more days of work when I've quit and miss my only chance to go to Ashland until Christmas.)
I asked for those days off, I said I wasn't going to be in town, and it's my last days of work.
Tom can't find out though, or he'll get pissed.

I am going to Ashland, and dammit, I'm going to have a good time.
I wanna be strung out on coffee and anime and androgynous J-rockers, DeepWater Long Islands, good times with friends, and be completely irreverant. I'm attending Queeb; I'm going to the Shingle Shack Halloween party (if they are having one again). I'm getting a buzz off of anything the area has to offer, including the cold air off the Lake. I'm visiting with people, hanging out on the Mall, and generally being lazy as all hell.

(And do my homework for next week, of course, but there really isn't a lot of it, so I'm not that worried. About twenty pages of Tillich and 100 pages of Martin Luther to read, and I have to write a two-page paper on Augustine's "love-box"-- don't ask.)

I can't wait to be there. I wanna be there now. I have no idea how I'm going to make it through the next eight hours of work.

AND...I have the cutest Halloween costume! Yay for little black kitties!

I don't really have anything else to say... I guess I'll see most of y'all reading this pretty soon!
lykomancer: (Default)
Had today off and had to run around like crazy, and still didn't get everything done the way I really wanted to.

I had to run down to uptown to Scout's (of Manitiou Mischief Rattery) to pick up three new girls, got lost on the way there, had to wait for my bus, decided to pick up a bus card while I was waiting, trying to figure out how I'm going to time everything right to drop off the rats and go up to the seminary to talk to the financial aid person and visit the internet. Decided not to drop off the rats, and here I sit 'cause the financial aid lady wasn't in-- or course. I'd really like to have been able to pick up and deposit my paycheck today, but that will have to wait until tomorrow; and I'd really like to be able to hit the downtown library, but I probably shouldn't for time reasons (if I'm going the library, I don't want to feel pressured into hurrying through).

My three new ratties are in a box next to the computer, and I think I'm going to name them Hitotsu, Futatsu, and Mittsu. :) I give my pets such fancy names in Japanese, ne?

So Angela knows, but just to reiterate for the crowds...
When I went to talk to Judith about how to work a budget and stay on top of my finances, she insisted (for about forty-five minutes, until I caved) on giving me the money to pay back Northland. (Now I have to pay back Judith instead, but that's OK, 'cause she's not holding my diploma and transcripts over my head.)
And the more I think about Northland, the angrier I get.
Jenny's pay-gap and sexist treatment at work; Judith finally leaving because she was being sat on and discriminated against; the continual construction that violated EPA noise pollution standards; the pesticides on the lawns; the financial aid office that treats its students like imbiciles...etc, etc, etc. And I have a diploma from there that means nothing, and is barely worth the paper it's printed on. Hells, besides the 1,500 directly to Northland, I have another 30,000 in loans that I hope will be deferred before I have to start paying on them.
Yeah, it's tempting to go in there and raise some hell.

And now journalling I did earlier this week:

Contemplating the divinity within )
Random factiods I learned )
lykomancer: (Default)
Heartsick. Homesick.

I hate this. I almost think now that I should have stayed in the Cities, slept in, played solitaire, watched the same damn movies over and over, and sulked about not getting to go up to Ashland...instead of actually coming here.

It's not that I didn't have a good time. It's exactly the opposite.

I stand outside and listen to the wind in the maple leaves, feeling the cool air, admiring the orangey gold early evening light, and I feel violently ill at the idea of getting in the car and going back to the apartment. If I were a little kid, I'd kick and scream and flat-out refuse... I feel like someone's squeezing my throat, or like there's a wad of dry terry cloth crammed into my vocal chords.

I don't want to go.
I don't want to go.

I want to swim in the lake and roll around on the newly laid sod of the Mall, get a tan, go out drinking with Daysha.

I walked back from the Deep Water last night and wandered up to campus, reassuring myself that this is still my place, my territory, that it hasn't forgotten me yet. I canvassed the whole place, feeling like an old dog pissing in the corners to reaffirm his claim on something. God, it's so weird, disappointing to know that I will not be there this fall.

I don't know why I feel this way. Tom has already begun forgetting things about Ashland and Northland, already within a year. I feel like there will never be a time when I don't crave being here... never will I be able to leave without feeling like my heart is breaking.

This is my place. My family's here. Love is here. Mother Superior is here. This is where I learned who I was/am and how to love and lose and laugh and cry.

Angela's moving out of her house, and I wandered through it thinking about how much fun we had there-- her and me and Jenny-- with our Sunday dinners and anime and goofing off and sake and cool cakes.

I always want what's gone, what I can't have.

It makes me want to cry, but I don't want to freak other people out. That's probably a bad sign, but then, so is feeling claustrophobic about going "home" to my stuff and my couch and my job.

lykomancer: (Default)
Back in good old Ashland. It's good to be here. I plan on spending the morning and afternoon wandering about searching for people (I know where to find you!) and the evening having a barbeque in Prentice Park. Hopefully, I'll make it to the beach on Thursday.

There's always so much to say that when I finally sit down to write, I don't know where to begin.
Like how I realized today that coming to Ashland is coming home to my family. (My really weird family!) Time to start addressing y'all as "nii-chan" and "nee-chan"-- though, except for Angela and Jenny, that would take a bit of explaining.
Simultaneously, I realized that what I've come to understand as "friendship" is much deeper and truer than other's understanding. When I hear other people talk about their friends, their relationship sounds so superficial to me. I don't know. I could be wrong.

I also had the weird sensation of noticing that the significant majority of my friends are bi or gay, and that this is not "normal". -_-;; It's weird beyond words to hear my co-worker say things like, "Yeah, I know some of Those People (i.e. gay men) in college. They were really funny." ~??~ Huh? "Those People"? (And yes, you could hear the captialization in her tone.) Hate to break ot to you, Dana, but "Those People"...are us, them, and everyone else.
Of course, my coworkers also didn't realize there were such things as Drag Kings. Ho-ho.

And furthermore, I freaked the hell out of one 'em by proudly stating that I wanted to go to Japan to molest all the pretty boys. She stared at me with the most thunderstruck, horrified expression...

...and I was equally bemused to hear the same coworker state that she just couldn't eat chicken with bones in it; that's SO gross! -_-;;

I miss normal people like Annie. Annie, love, you'd bewilder two-thirds of the Cities with your outspoken, honest, free-loving behavior. I like that. It amuses me to think when I don't know how to relate to others in my new environment.

lykomancer: (Default)
So, me and Tom are poor. Dirt-ass, rolling pennies for gas money, can't-afford-Ramen poor.

Lemme explain in detail:
Tom just got his (monthly) check from work for a little over 800$.
Faboo, ne? No.
Tom calculated it out before he cashed it, that with this money he could pay all of his bills (and none that are exculsively mine, such as paying off Northland and so on) and there would be 10$ left over for groceries until next month. Ten bucks won't even get you a month's worth of Ramen for two people.
Furthermore, when he deposited the check, he found out that he was so overdrawn that we actually only have about 750$ of that money... leaving us about 60$ in the hole if he pays all his bills.

I ran out of money yesterday-- completely. I have 1.75$ in my checking account. I still haven't gotten my damned check for 75-100$ from the DNC, and I don't know when I'll get paid for my current job with Citizen Action. (And I don't know how long I will even have this job with CA; their quota is 270$, and I need to make this once in my first four days, four times out of my first eight days, and maintain it as an average every week...else I get fired.)


On the up side, I have an interview with Rainbow Foods tomorrow for either a part-time cashier job or else one working in bakery. (I'd rather be in the bakery.) That would be spiffy: a job where, after they decide to hire and train you, you don't have to jump through any more hoops to keep the job.

God, I hate being poor. I don't care if struggles do make you a better, stronger person. I just want to be able to afford sake and ice cream and a new pair of headphones and Catholicism for Dummies and pay the fee to become an ESL tutor. I want to not have to worry about being able to afford to catch the bus to work or books for school.

Tom says that we are going to be taking a "sanity vacation" up to Ashland the last weekend of the month (30th-1st). I expect to go swimming in Lake Superior (peferably naked); sunbathe on beach or on a nice soft strip of grass; hang out with people who watch too much anime, cuss too much, snuggle and give kisses, and who love me; and I expect that someone would like to buy me a drink or two at the Deepwater (please).

Silly Shipping Survey I Stole from Sailor Ptah )

Yeah. My job with Citizen Action isn't too bad. We start at 4 and end at 8:30, and I'm only on the phone for three hours or so of that time. (However, with the bus schedules being the way they are, this cushy little four-&-a-half hour job ends up totalling more like seven or eight hours once travel time is included...I didn't get home until 11 last night.) I call people up, give 'em the rap, and they pledge money, and that's it. Most people aren't home, so a good portion of my time is listening to the phone ring and then hanging up, and dialing a new number. Although everything seems pretty quick, it can take up to twenty minutes or so, so once I get someone on the line, it goes pretty fast. Last night I made 205$-- damn near quota on my first night, which everyone was really impressed with. At that rate, I should be able to make quota tonight. And each night of training is 36$ or so.

Right. I should run.


May. 30th, 2004 11:54 am
lykomancer: (Default)
Plugging away at Joy's damned paper. Doing ok at it; I'm half-way there, though I can't think of anything else to write and I don't know if I can get those journal entries she wants in, too. The more I think about it the more I want to say, "To Hell with it", though. It really won't kill my gpa.

The lilacs are starting to bloom.

Y'know, I wish right now that I was living the cliche of, "...and she was surprised to see how few boxes her life fit into." That be real handy, in fact. I got way too much crap.

I wish I could write something deep and profound in this last-entry-for-a-long-while space, but I really can't think of anything. Except that I hate living in transition. God, I'm looking around my room and thinking, "Why can't we just go now? I don't want to waste time waiting for Tuesday." If I have to go, I wanna get it over with and get the ball rolling toward moving on. This lingering thing is not my cuppa.
(Ngn. I really want some tea now, and I can't have any. That pisses me off a lot.)


And something totally different... )
lykomancer: (hurt)

I need to write an eight page paper tomorrow that's due tomorrow. And talk to the Career Services lady about my resume, and schedule a check-out time with that bitch of an RHD. I should swing by Heather and Akia's to see if Akia picked up any boxes for me, and visit with them before they leave for her sister's graduation in Texas.

...I lost my graduation day schedule paper. How will I know to follow Michele Small around now? What will I do with myself?

I really wish i could have seen the suckers run this spring.
I really wish that the lilac bushes would have bloomed before I left.

I was really hoping that by the time the end came, everything would be ok and it would feel right to go...that everyone would be settling into their boring summer routines and being their normal boring selves and that I wouldn't feel like I was going to be missing out on anything and that everything would be fine, just fine and it'd be cool... I'd be all smiles and hugs and "see ya sometime-- yeah, I'll try to visit in July; there better be a place for me to stay, and no, I won't forget to keep in touch" and that I'd walk away without thinking about it. And by the time I realized what I'd done it'd be too late.

(and it wouldn't hurt so much)
(and I wouldn't be crying)

It's not just the fact that I am leaving the Northland "bubble" with it's subculture and rhythm and idiosyncratic quirks that I have learned and learned to love. I can deal with that.
It's not just the loss of casual acquaintances or the distance put as a barrier between close, deep friendships. That's terrible, but not the worst.
It's the loss of identity. Who am I now? What am I? I have to redefine myself in a strange place with few people I know who can help me. What am I going to do with myself?
Will it matter what I do? Will it matter if I slip into working class apathy and just fall asleep standing up behind a counter or sitting at the keyboard?
Who will care anyway? Those whose opinions I value most are not going with me, and the longer that we are apart, the less understanding there will be. Communication will break down until it is simply the ritual mouthing of words, with no care no empathy no understanding.

The color of my tassel is white-- the color of death.

My, I'm cheerful and optimistic, ne?

There must be something wrong with my eyes. I can't stop crying.
lykomancer: (upset)
My room is a pit; there are books, clothes, cups, wrappers, and miscellaneous other things strewn haphazardly everywhere. It's Tuesday night of the week of graduation, and I haven't packed anything up since Wednesday of last week-- I haven't even picked up more boxes yet. I have an eight-to-ten page research paper due on Friday for my last class at Northland, and I have only conducted one and a half (if I can even count that half) out of the six or so interviews that I need in order to write it... And that's saying that even if I do the interviews I'll write the damned thing. I've done nothing except write fanfiction and sleep in the last week-- a hardcore program of absolute avoidance.

A walk to buy ice cream in the campus center took over 45 minutes-- I flopped on the sidewalk, watched the storm clouds, got the ice cream, wandered around campus until I got the the fire ring, I saw a deer and decided to see how close I could get before it ran... Some sewing that should have taken two hours was started at noon and is still unfinished. I really don't even want to be around other people-- and that's bad, 'cause I'll miss them a great deal in another week, and I know that they want to hang out with me while they can-- just hang out in the swirling maelstrom of my disaster area, communing with my computer.

It's Tuesday night of the week of graduation, and the lilacs aren't blooming yet. I'll probably have to wear a sweater to my graduation; it's been raining almost nonstop for three weeks, and it's not predicted to stop until after I've left. No sunbathing on what's left of the Mall for me. Too cold, too wet.

I'm bored and don't want to do anything. I skip class to sleep in until the afternoon and I'm still tired. If the seminary doesn't accept me, I have no long-term plans.

What in the hell am I doing?
lykomancer: (Happy)
Today was a great day, and it's really because of Annie. I knew I should probably go outside and enjoy the gorgeous sunny, warm weather, but I was pretty content sitting behind my computer and contemplating smut-writing until Annie came in and asked for a blanket to take outside and sunbathe naked on.

So I went outside too, and laid around for about an hour in the delicious, skin-crisping sunshine, eating incredibly tasty oatmeal raisin cookies with Annie and Marybeth. Then Annie got the idea to go wading/swimming (naked) in the ravine.

For those of you reading this who are not familiar with Northland College geography, let me enlighten you. The majority of the campus lies on the south-east side of a steep-edged, wooded ravine, at the bottom of which flows the Bay City Creek. It runs straight along one edge of the campus main, behind one Hall, one dormitory, and the town houses, and under two wooden bridges before executing a smooth curve around the far western edge of Northland, coiling behind another dorm and the soccer field.
Bay City Creek is a small little stream, narrow enough to jump over at its thinnest and so shallow in some sections that it doesn't really even flow in the heat of summer, but lies in deep, still, stagnant pools. White suckers swim up it every spring to spawn, and it hosts a variety of other smaller fish.

I always knew the creek was deep enough for swimming, especially now, after we've have a week of spring rain... but I never knew how deep. I've fallen in a few times, but I generally got out extremely quickly, not noting depth of the water.

Lemme tell you, it's deeper than I thought! After wandering far enough along the trail that we were more or less safe from prying eyes, we stripped and Annie waded in. It's very step, step (water to your ankles), step and WHOOSH! you're up to your waist or further. The first hole we went in was deep enough that, treading water up to my neck, I didn't touch bottom.

We found a shallower, more still section and skinny-dipped for probably close to two hours, then got dressed, wandered over to the cafe and got some food, then I changed into warmer clothes and played lazy-man soccer for an hour and a half.

Hell, I even did my reading for class tonight. I feel pretty good. I did a lot more yesterday and today than I usually do, and I'm glad.

This entry took me a long time to write because Kris called as I began, and we talked for at least forty minutes about the state of affairs in this great nation. I think we're going to try to organize a "Shawshank" style letter-writing campaign. (Write a letter every week until you get a response; if the response is not what you wanted, begin writing two letters a week. Keep increasing number of letters until there is an appropriate response.) We figure if we inundate Congress, the Senate, the President, the media, etc, with letters, faxes, and emails almost constantly, they might actually listen to us.
Or we'll be abducted in the night and never be heard from again. *shrug*
lykomancer: (Default)
I am constantly amazed by the shifting weather and the power of nature in northern Wisconsin. It's so simple to walk outside and within fifteen minutes, find redemption, peace, grace, forgiveness, and mindfulness.

Where is God? IT is in the Chequamegon National Forest, pumping through the gills of a sturgeon, in the greenery and concrete beneath your feet, in the depths of Lake Superior. "The Father's Kingdom is within you and outside of you... Split a piece of wood and you will find me; lift a stone, and I am there."
How does one begin to worship? By running one's hands through the thick, wet spring grass, by attending to the change in scent that heralds a new season, by licking the rainwater from your lips, by listening to birdsong and the rush of a swollen stream, by watching the Northern Lights burn the night sky. Raise thy voice in wolf-song, and listen for IT's reply in dark, wind-swept forests! "Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each."
"Read Marcus Aurelius of each thing..."

I went outside for about an hour, and walked bareheaded and barefoot in the rain. "Walked" is actually a bit of an exaggeration; for about ten minutes I simply stood in the grass... a sort of silent meditation.
It felt good, calming, centering. The moment of rebalancing, washing away previous sin.
I feel like writing on "Phoenix" again, or drawing, or maybe beginning to pack. Wash more laundry. Straighten up and organize. Write poetry about Northland. Jam out to Stuart Davis.

I've seen the future of mankind / Which is not Hell / Which is not bliss / But all I can say is it looks like this / Mmmm...
lykomancer: (thoughtful)
My friend Heather has been meaning to have a yardsale for a while, and since I need to pack my stuff up to move in two weeks, I decided to drag some junk of mine down to see if I couldn't get rid of it and make a buck or two.

I've been up since eight in the morning (which is like a normal person's four am, considering I don't usually do to bed until 2 or so), walked about a mile, sat in the sun trying to keep warm, got sunburned, helped pack everything up... blech. I was ready to die about two hours ago, and then Daysha wanted to hang out, so we went barhopping.

What a wash. I didn't even make five dollars, and I had close to 50 bucks worth of stuff out (based off of the prices I tagged things at). I guess I did ok in other ways: for two bucks I got most of the stuff Brook was trying to sell, including a nice sweater, four pairs of shorts, two pairs of jeans, and a nifty HUGE jacket/hoodie thing. Plus Heather's thermos, and another two sweaters. While I don't need more clothes, it's all stuff I need or I'll wear often, so it's all good. I still don't have nearly as many clothes as some girls.

'Kay. I'm eating some of my Dublin Mudslide and hittin' the sack.
lykomancer: (hurt)
...gone in the wink of a young girl's eye / Glory days / just seem to pass ya by...

Feeling a bit odd after Jenny left... melancholy, I guess. A little off-kilter. Still kinda wound up about leaving Northland-- although I'm sure all of you reading this are wishing I'd just freakin' graduate already and stop whining about being afraid. (I'm kidding. I don't think you guys are actually thinking that... or at least I hope not. ^_~)

I guess I'm a little tripped out because I realized-- making a connection with David Saetre's sermon for the UU's about three months ago-- that I'm afraid because, in a sense, I'm dying. Change is a small death... and we're not taught very well how to cope with the death of a way of living and understanding the world.

I need to make a list of crap I need to do in the next two weeks. (Loan exit interview, check up on cap and gown, reservations for stupid lunch thing, get boxes, start packing, wash items before they get packed, make sure at least unoffical transcripts get mailed to seminary, pay Jenny for bike and floppy drive, talk to Angela's David about meeting up with him in the Cities, talk to other David and misc other professors...)


I just looked at my calender and nearly threw up on it. That's not a good sign. Maybe I'll talk to David Saetre sooner.
God, make me brave for life: oh, braver than this!
Let me straighten after pain, as a tree straightens after the rain,
Shining and lovely again.
God, make me brave for life; much braver than this.
As the blown grass lifts, let me rise
From sorrow with quiet eyes,
Knowing Thy way is wise.
God, make me brave, life brings
Such blinding things.
Help me to keep my sight;
Help me to see aright
That out of dark comes light.

- Author Unknown

And now for something completely different. )
lykomancer: (Happy)
Skipped class, and haven't done much of anything all day, except for play on Adobe for a long time.
I made new icons to go with my revamped journal. *points* Worship the supreme kawaii-ness of Ryoko.

I also made:

Animed men of the cloth are love

Told you I would. ^_^

I am slowly uploading all of the art that I scanned in like, October onto Deviantart so that I can clear it out of pubfiles and off the CommComm harddrives.

Sounds like it's gonna thunderstorm tonight, which is sad 'cause then we can't play lazy-man soccer and is happy 'cause I love thunder and lightning and that cozy feeling of reading in bed and listening to the rain. I'm in a real traditional book mode-- Shakespeare and the Bible, Gilgamesh and Beowulf.
Feeling thoughtful and contemplative, but I don't know about what. Eh... it'll come to me.
lykomancer: (Angry)
Today's class was better. Joy did not try to teach me how to do anything. We mostly discussed the ELF protest coming up and societal oppression of invisible people.

I didn't realize that Bush's foreign policy includes an aggressive pre-emptive nuclear first strike clause. Now that's scary.
Moral: Don't piss off the President of the US or it'll be less than fifteen minutes to complete global annihilation.
This is is direct contradiction to the Nuremberg laws, as much as the POW treatment (that, I, too, have only heard of recently, Angela) is of the Geneva Convention. The United States needs to acknowledge and abide by international law! This is fucking ridiculous! There is no need to have a nuclear first strike policy; even if we need to be able to make a first-strike (which I doubt), that's overkill by a a dozen or more mega tons! Add in the radioactive fallout caused by such a strike, plus the casualties and fallout caused by the return volley... God. Everloving God in Heaven.
And Bush still has the balls to call himself a Christian? WWJD, man! Jesus said turn the other cheek and love thy enemy, not hit them first and bomb the hell out of them!

I've had it. Absolutely had it. I'm writing a letter to the United Nations requesting the international community to do something about this-- my personal suggestion is to put Bush on trial for war crimes-- and to urge them to understand that Bush's actions do not reflect the American community as a whole.
Clinton nearly got impeached for having an affair, but Bush can repeatedly violate international law regarding how to conduct a moral war (after starting said war), do everything in his power to halt free speech and institute a theocracy except repeal the First Amendment, lay heavier taxes on the working class while legalizing tax cuts for the rich, attempt to ban abortions and gay marriage, lie about not knowing about 9/11 before it happened, et cetera, et cetera, and get away with it?

Reading online newspapers (New York Times and the Washington Post-- I'm terrified of going on to learn the news, which I where I normally go. I'm sure the battles over there are reaching epic, hellish proportions)... depressing and infuriating. Rumsfeld apologizes for POW treatment, and states that those videos were just the tip of the iceburg-- there is worse to come, he says. According to the Post, the majority of Americans do NOT want Rumsfeld to step down. Bush is making the morning-after pill illegal, as well as antagonizing American atheists by emphasizing "Nation at Prayer" day. (I'm prayin' alright, Mr. Bush. I'm praying day and night that another stray airplane flies into you and your Cabinet.) Bush is asking Congress for another 25 million dollars for war in Iraq and Afghanistan.

(OOO! GRRRRrrrrrr! Wandering bravely through the discussanything forums, I have found a thread bashing my religion. Time to crusade on your ass!!!~ ("Crusading" in UU-land means vehemently arguing. It's a lot less interesting to watch than real crusading.) Armed with my keen, double-bladed, holy wit and full of righteous indignation I will cut you down to size! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!
*cough, cough*
Right. I'm ok.)

If we have Bush for another four years, I'm predicting there will be a "brain-drain" as smarter Americans begin to flee to Canada, Europe, India, and Japan. I'm already looking at foreign schools and contemplating a few months of struggling to to learn a new language. I don't have a problem with that, nor do I with living in hostels for a while. (yasee, 'cause Europe's got a lot of great structures in place that prevent people from being completely homeless and poor...unlike some countries. Yay for socialism!)
Oh, look! There's some great seminaries in the UK and Australia.

We holy children pray to be delivered from the cognitive pollution we've suffered through and lived among:
"Father, free us! Intervene and lift the curse! Drench this tainted planet so our handicap can be reversed."

-- Stuart Davis, Noah's New Ark

Angela, I might email you a story to beta. Sheda's being a an uncooperative kitty, and I need help with that.

And I need to write up my "learning contract" and email it to Joy.
lykomancer: (Default)
I think I aggravate my professor a lot. I also think she needs more experience dealing with loud, pushy, opinionated, irate people. It is, therefor, my job to help her gain more experience.

I strolled into class about forty-five minutes late. I wasn't going to go, but I feel bad about skipping the one thing I actually have scheduled for the day, especially when the semester's only a month long. Within five minutes, Joy was struggling to explain something to me, and I was sitting there with my arms crossed and my brows furrowed, being a stubbornly un-understanding student.

Joy is trying to teach us how to listen to other people. More specifically, she's trying to teach us how to-- what is it now?-- "reflectively listen". This means that, say, for example, Angela goes off on how she can't stand America anymore, and I would respond by saying something to the effect of, "So, what you're saying is that you feel oppressed by the new laws that are being passed, and that the government is turning into a tyrannous dictatorship?"
Ok, maybe not quite like that, but that's the general idea. The speaker speaks, and I'm supposed to paraphrase it back to them to both encourage them to keep speaking and to show that I am listening and engaged in what they are saying.

There are several problems with this. First, I am much more likely to ask a question (i.e. "Why do you feel this way? Could you give an example?"), and Joy says that by doing this I am trying to dominate and lead the speaker; I'm not listening. Second, I only repeat back something when I'm confused or not understanding what the speaker has said. To me, the reflective listener sounds like they are bewildered by what I am saying the majority of the time. Third, this also means that I have to override the natural impulse to tell people that they are wrong and prove it logically or statistically; use sarcasm, irony, or wit; ask questions; or imput anything of my own, including any analysis.
Joy especially wants us to use this on people who disagree with us, with makes it infinitely harder. You know how hard it will be for me to hold my tongue while someone's ranting about something I radically disagree with, and instead only repeat their own words back at them like some sort of stupid parrot?
This is apparently supposed to get people to reflect deeper on their own values and opinions, but I'm pretty well convinced that Joy taught us this solely for the purpose of irritating me.

I'll show her some human conflict... there seems to be some conflict between her values and actual application.

Yay! Free dinner at the Deepwater tonight! (Paid for by CommComm, including drinks.) Sweet... I'm gonna order whatever I want, as much as I want, and stuff myself.
And life will be good.

(P.S. Jenny, I have to get some of this music off my computer for you to listen to... you'll either love it or hate it, but it's definitely entertaining! *points to current music*)
lykomancer: (Default)
I have to keep a response journal for my spring class and, quite simply, I find it easier to face a blank LiveJournal box than an empty Word file, and since this is a journal project, I'll just write it out here and transfer it into Word for printing.

(To those of you I see on a daily basis, most of this will be repetition/regurgitation. I reflect best sometimes by bouncing ideas off of you guys, and therefore, my little muses, you get to hear most of this before it gets written down.)

Musings on classism and social inequality )


God, I'm so tired. It's only eleven-- not even quite that. I need to stay up so that I can get back on my normal sleep cycle (cause then I'll stop being tired all the time).
lykomancer: (Default)
Sitting around the seminary library, waiting for Tom to get out of class. (Eee... an extremely in-depth look at the Biblical book of Numbers does not sound like a fun class to sit-in on!) Kinda worried about Angela, considering her last journal entry and the fact that there's been nothing posted since then (Angela-chan, if you're reading this, please email me or something...just don't be dead or anything, for the lovagod.) Reading about the hoops you have to jump through to be ordained as a UU minister, and occasionally amused by the curriculum here: thinking about taking a class named "Worship" cracks me up every time.

I have some tasty loose-leaf white-tip oolong tea and some tastes-almost-but-not-quite-like-coughdrops Herb Grass candy, both of which I picked up at a Oriental food store in downtown Minneapolis. Still looking for some sake and trying to get Tom to take me to a comic book store, so I might have more goodies to share by the time you next hear from me.

The grass is green, the dandelions are blooming, and it's Earth Day. (Which I totally forgot about until the cafe put out little cards celebrating it-- I'm a bad Northlander, forgetting about our "official" campus holiday like that.)

No one else is in here, so I don't feel bad monopolizing the computers, especially when I've been writing the whole time. First my vocational statement, and now this.

Wow...the UU's demand a high level of competence in their ministers! I suppose it's not unreasonable, but I just didn't expect the Unitarians to demand that their ministers were competent in Hebrew (among other things, including Anti-Racism and and Multi-Culturalism, pastoral care, worship, music, and preaching)!
Hmmmm... looking at this, I realize that if-- and oh, it's a big IF!-- I ever want to be ordained, I pretty much have to begin planning now, and that I will need to take classes at another school in order to cover some of these requirements laid out by the UUA. Damn.

Righty-O. I've still got another hour forty-five to wait, but I think I'm going to go pillage the library now.


lykomancer: (Default)

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