Just For the Record...

If anyone mentions anything about my hair resembling a bowl, or something similar to that, they will receive a swift punch in the face, followed by a firm kick to the genitals. Thanks.

--Jon, an unhappy Noggins haircut recipient

A Complementary Sample of Inane Winter Break Babbling

So I’m sitting on my bed in the dark, listening to an “inspiration” playlist I made myself (David Byrne & Brian Eno’s “Strange Overtones” was just on, and now it’s Grizzly Bear’s “Fine For Now”). I was playing Minesweeper, and before that Spider Solitaire, and before that Final Fantasy VI (didn’t know what I had to do, confused, then finally realized after getting really bored and didn’t care enough to prepare well enough to go to a dangerous place, so I gave up). I feel like I should write something, even though I have nothing to write about. Earlier I tried making music, but I felt totally uninspired. And I feel like I SHOULD be inspired. I often think, “Ooh, this would make an interesting song subject/title/theme/feeling/whatever,” but I fail at expressing it. I hope that composition classes will help me with these sorts of issues. And actually progressing in theory, ala NOT taking it from Chuck Israels. I think I made almost this exact same blog post awhile back, buuuuut oh well.

I’m excited to get back up to Bellingham. It’s obnoxiously difficult to hang out with people who are like “Oh, yeah, we should hang out…” and then totally bail or don’t call or don’t call back. At least once I get back to Bellingham, Elie will hang out with me even if she has poop-loads of homework to do (although she might do that homework while hanging out, that’s okay). I realized recently that I get very lonely very easily. Like Elie, I don’t care about “fitting in” as much as I care about being true to myself and what I believe to be right for me. Unfortunately, what I believe is often quite contrary to what others believe, and just the way I am generally isn’t as socially compatible with typical college kids. Or typical people. I’m not sure what it is. Other people are opinionated. Other people are goofy. Other people like weird music. I just feel like there’s other people up there in Bellingham that I could easily be great friends with… but I’m not. Why? We just never find each other? I guess so. Hopefully that will eventually change. I can’t complain too much, though. I still have great friends (that I don’t see enough : /) and the best girlfriend I could ask for. Yep, more sappy Elie/Jon love. That’s more than a lot of people have; I would venture to say more than most people have, even if they think they have it.

So some lighter fare: I got my radio show that I submitted! “All Things Epic” will premier Saturday, January 9, 2010 from 10 AM to noon, and will run every Saturday thereafter for the whole quarter at that time. Classical, metal, post-rock, chamber-pop, and other “epic music” is what it will consist of. Suggestions? I could always use some.

Merry Christmas?

Speaking of Christmas; the holiday means very little to me now. It’s especially confusing in a town like Sequim; nationwide, Christmas has essentially become a secular holiday (as it should be; separation of church and state FTW), with completely non-religious people celebrating it and wishing people “Merry Christmas.” But the fact remains that basically all Christians, the majority of America, take Christmas very seriously. In Sequim, a Christian-right bubble of “Fuck you if you’re not Christian!” attitude if there ever was one, whenever I hear “Merry Christmas!” I think, “What if I don’t celebrate your precious holiday?” Obviously they mean well. But in places like this, people do assume that everyone is a God-fearing Christian, like everyone obviously should be. And it’s a dangerous attitude; these are the kinds of mindsets that spark ethnocentrism, which in turn sparks all sorts of problems.

I probably sound like a Grinchy Scroogey cynic; I really WANT to like the holiday season, but it doesn’t help that my parents have all but completely given up on it except for the whole “Well, might as well gather some family members while everyone else is” part. I kinda want to just spend Christmas with someone else; but I don’t really know anyone whose house I might be invited into [editor-in-Jon’s-head note: how the hell do you write that sentence grammatically correctly?!]; Christmas is a family holiday, and my family has become totally indifferent. I haven’t even gotten anybody gifts yet, because I have no goddamn clue what to get anyone. I’m feeling a total lack of Christmas spirit. Or even a spirit of giving. Most people would probably confront this problem rather easily… but it’s totally rattling my brain and driving me crazy. I can only hope that I’ll find divine inspiration somewhere.

Ironically, the song playing now is Wilco’s “Jesus, Etc.” It’s a very pretty song.

--Jon [written 12/23/09, 1:20 AM]

My Pants Fit

Yup. My pants stay on my waist without having to use a belt that's too big. In fact, the buckle now fits into one of the actual holes on the belt, not one I had to make myself because I needed a smaller belt. This is not a good sign. This isn't a blog about a crazy teenage girl complaining about how fat she is, but I am gaining weight and I'm not okay with it.

My weight gain is probably due to my lack of exercise. I do absolutely none of it except for walking to classes and to and from my apartment to campus. And stress. Especially this past quarter, I've done so much sitting and reading and writing and stressing. Plus, I hate exercising. Absolutely hate it. Last year I forced myself to sign up for a jogging class at Western, but once I started running, I had shoulder problems. Yup. Shoulder problems from running. Thank you, messed up back. And speaking of my back, the exercises that I can actually do are severely limited, and the only type of exercise I'll actually do, jogging/running, will make me hurt more. Why do the health gods hate me?

At any rate, shoulder problems or no shoulder problems, I'm going to make myself start running when I get to Western. I'd start now, while I'm in the lovely land of Grays Harbor, but I don't have running shoes or sweat pants. But I'll do it. I'm not just sayin'. The fact that my pants actually fit has scared me into realizing that my health is declining quickly (well, more quickly than I thought) and that I need to do something. Of course, running won't solve all my problems, and might make them worse, but it's something. That way I can say I actually tried.

--Elie

Dear Popular Girls of Middle School,

You all made me feel worthless and unpopular. You made me try to be like you and get into your clique, and I was discouraged each time you pushed me away. You were the cool ones who were going to make it big one day, with your handsome, popular boyfriends, your beautiful skin full of make-up, and your brand-name clothing. You all made me feel so out of the loop that I voluntarily pushed myself as far away from your clique as possible. I tried my best to be a tomboy by not dressing in tight, expensive clothing, by not wearing makeup, by not coloring, straightening, or curling my hair, by not taking dance classes, and by not having all the boyfriends I possibly could.

Well, the years have passed, and I went my own way. While you guys were more involved with cheerleading, boys, and your appearance, I was concentrating on good grades. Popularity was not a concern of mine, although I often wished I had more friends. But I never wanted to be like you. By the time high school rolled around, I knew I would never be that shallow.

Over five years has passed since middle school, and I'm slowly figuring out what you're all doing. While I'm fulfilling my dream of becoming teacher, what are you guys doing? Are you all living in mansions with gorgeous husbands and expensive dogs? Or are you working hard in med school?

Not even close. You all are stuck in the lousy place we grew up, going to community college every once in a while, or going to beauty school to support your children. What good will beauty school get you? What good can you do in the world? Sure, you can make rich, white women feel richer and more beautiful, but what good does that to do anybody else? And you've probably figured out that the beautiful boy you've been dating is actually a loser and cannot support you and your family or family-to-be.

But wait! For once, I'm the one with the handsome boyfriend. And he's actually smart. And guess what? We're going to do something with our lives. And I don't mean having children as soon as possible or styling people's hair. We're going to help people who need it, and we're going to reach people at deeper levels than their skin or hair.

So, you popular girls of middle school, thank you for being so horrible and shallow. Otherwise, I may have been accepted into your clique and ruined my life. I may have suffered in middle school, but, thanks to you, I know I came out on top.

Edit: I discussed this topic with my mom, the idea of very few people from McCleary leaving the area, let alone going to a four-year college where they have to move away from home for a few years. Her hypothesis (with which I agree) is that people from McCleary are used to being a big fish in a little pond. People in McCleary are usually born and raised in the area where they have lots of friends and relatives. By going to a university or just moving out of the area, they're suddenly nobody. I understand that being a little fish in a big pond is scary; I've been there. But the people from McCleary don't have the nerve to be that little fish. They're too scared to move outside of their comfort zone and become nobody and have to actually make a name for themselves.

From the beginning, I was different because I moved to McCleary from Tacoma. I knew nobody and had no relatives within 100 miles. Because I wasn't born with my reputation and family tree stapled to my forehead, I was not accepted in McCleary.

But I've taken risks, beginning with going to high school in Olympia. I was successful in that endeavour, which helped give me courage to move away from my home and again be a little fish in a big pond. I may not be known by everybody at Western, but I like to think that I'm seen as a big fish in the activities I pursue, such as the clubs and bands I'm in. I've gone out in the world and done something, and I'll continue doing this until I'm a successful teacher - and a successful person. Take THAT, popular girls from middle school.

Most sincerely,
Elie

With a Little Help From My Friends

So here I am, finally willing myself to write a blog only to find that Jon has beaten me to it! And there's no way I can top his blog. God dammit!

That aside, winter break is finally here. Okay, fine. Call it Christmas break. That's what it is: a break for Christmas. Schools have to call it winter break to avoid excluding those non-Christmas-celebrating people. But still, the break is for Christmas. It's not Hanukkah break. It's not Ramadan break. It's a break for Christians. At any rate, I'm finally on a break. As I sit at home trying to enjoy a book or knitting something I'll never finish, let alone wear, sometimes I wonder what else to do. Nothing, I think, and I continue knitting or reading. It usually doesn't occur to me to be with other people. Then I realize that most people are with friends and use this break from school to hang out with others.

And then there's me, sitting at home with my books, glasses, and fuzzy socks. I'm content at home, although I may be a little bored from time to time. But sometimes I wonder why I'm so different and not with friends. Maybe it's growing up in McCleary that has moved me away from being social. Maybe it's my dislike of socializing. Maybe both. Maybe that's why I really don't have many friends. I made friends in elementary school and a few in middle school and then lost them all when I went to high school. And I made friends in high school and lost most of them when I went to college. And I'm making friends now, but nobody who I hang out with or can really talk to. I'm sure I'm not the only one who can be considered a loner, but why me? What makes me so different? In Bellingham, there's plenty of people to hang out with and public transportation to get me around. Yet I hang out alone in the library, a practice room, or my apartment, usually alone. And I'm content. I don't think, "dang, I sure wish I had a friend." I only wish I was with Jon, 'cause I always wish I'm with him when I'm not. But being with other friends rarely crosses my mind, and that's normal to me. But then I realize that my normal isn't normal to everybody else's normal. But I don't want to be normal like everybody else.

Yet, as I look at all the pictures my friends post on facebook of their high school and college adventures, I feel like I'm missing something. Nobody's around to take pictures of me (don't you even think about it, Jon), and my only social activities include going to club meetings. And I put myself in those clubs; it's not like I was invited. And it's times like these that I feel invisible and thank Allah for the one person who I feel can see me: Jon. I feel as though I gush about him a lot, and I probably do. And that's fine with me. :)

On rare occasions when I think about my friend predicament, I become afraid that if I mean little to my peers then I'll mean nothing to my future students. What exactly is it about me that turns people away from me? How can I make myself appealing to my future students who actually matter? Maybe I'll mean something them because they'll mean something to me. Part of my problem in the first place is that I've been slapped in the face by so many people with whom I've wanted to be friends that I really don't care if I'm friends with them or if we were once friends and then became distant. I just don't care. Sometimes I stop and think, "well that's a shame," but I move on. I've learned to do that: forget. I like to picture myself as standing transparent as people I once loved walk through me. Neither of us look back at the other.

Maybe now I sound like I'm crying to this blog and those few people who read it. I don't want it to be like that. It's not a cry for help. I'm just spilling my thoughts on the Internet for others to read. I'm that nice. :D

--Elie

As a Matter of Fact, MY God's Last Name IS Dammit

I've heard a number of people say "God's last name isn't 'Dammit'!" after someone says an obligatory "goddammit." Okay, so maybe YOUR god's last name isn't 'Dammit.' But what most people don't know is, many citizens of the world worship a different and less well-known deity that goes by the name of God Dammit. He's a cool dude usually; he likes to induce painful laughter and joy by putting stupid words in someone else's, but he can be pretty apathetic to tragedies in the world, and likes to inflict all kinds of pain (hence people yelling "GOD DAMMIT"). I think he smokes pot or something. I talk to him every day. I also see him all the time. You can't see him because he doesn't think you're cool enough. He has a pretty big family, all of which are near-omnipotent. Mother Fucker, Sonuva Bitch, Jesus Christ (different one than you know; this guy's actually a pretty big bastard), and Shitonmy Balls just to name a few.

So next time someone says "God Dammit," maybe you should be less judgmental and stop disrespecting and blasphemizing my religion!

--Jon