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Friday, March 11, 2016

This I Believe #9

Same as last week, please post your essay here before class on Tuesday (after spring break). Please also remember to bring a printed copy of your essay to class and be prepared to read it aloud.

21 comments:

  1. One of my favorite quotes talks about how giving a girl the right shoes will allow her to succeed in anything. I think that this is such a powerful statement, and in fact, applies so much to myself. For starters, I am a biochemist, musician, equestrian, athlete, teacher, and professional.

    I fell in love with science before coming to Transylvania University. After beginning material in AP Chemistry and AP Biology, I had genuine interest in the subject, much less the excitement in labs and independent research projects at such an early age. I find the progression of my science career to be even more fascinating as I enrolled from high school to the science department at Transy. Here, I have expanded from simple titrations, PCR, and chromatography to NMR, MS, IR, Ramen, LPC, and even glove box work. The depth of my understanding has infinitely increased, and I am proud to say that I am a true scientist. Recently, I was even published. By “gaining the right shoes,” I was able to endure and continue on in the journey of becoming and accomplished biochemist that even is able to teach others now.

    Music has been a passion for years and years- since elementary school to be exact. Unfortunately, I did not take any lessons until I came to Transylvania University, but my love for playing both flute and piccolo blossomed throughout middle school and high school enough to make me a diamond in the rough. I quickly became the piccolo player of the school and climbed the ladder of the flute section. Given lessons, I started studying music that challenged me and moved my technique and playing to a whole new level. I became a REAL musician—complete with the heart and soul. I now am only a few short weeks away from my recital, and this is absolutely surreal to me. Again, I was “given the right shoes” to become successful to gracefully and confidently walk up on stage and play.

    I have always been an athletic person. I played basketball, gymnastics, soccer, track, cheerleading, etc. etc. I constantly wanted to be moving. In addition, I am an equestrian, who has expanded to riding all disciplines from western barrel racing to English hunt seat and jumping. In all of these active moments, I wear the correct shoes to conquer my goals, whether that be on a court, field, or arena wearing sneakers or tall boots.

    It is absolutely amazing how many “shoes” a girl can wear. All she needs in that opportunity, and I will seize any opportunity that is thrown my way. I find it disheartening to be told that I cannot do something. If I want to wear my sneakers and play with the boys, then I will. If I want to wear heels and act like a lady, I will. If I want to present research that I have spent countless hours of work, then I will. If I want to tear around barrels on a 1200lb animal, then I will. The point is that I will do what I want to do. I will succeed—even if I have to find the “right shoes” on my own. A girl has to do what a girl has to do.
    As one of my favorite songs says, “I wear my pain like stilettos” when I bite the dust. However, as another one says, “ I will get back up, put my gloves on, and fight back.” I refuse to allow anyone to bring me down and tell me I am incapable of something. I will only work that much harder to prove them wrong. This is what I have always been taught, and what I will continue to do in my life. I am no quitter, and that I believe.

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  2. I believe in rain. I love waking up in the morning to the sound of droplets crashing on the roof and falling asleep to the sound of thunder. It was pouring the other night and I swear I’ve never slept more comfortably in this entire semester. Thunder boomed and I could feel the windows shaking from the sound; I slept like a kitty. But more importantly than simply believing in rain on its own, I believe more so in the things I have expanded my knowledge upon when the day is rainy.
    When I was younger, all of my mom’s lessons seemed to be taught during rainy days. I used to hate it when it rained, because I couldn’t go outside to play, but my mom taught me the importance of rain for plants and sustenance. I learned that I should take care of my garden.
    Then, once I got over my hatred for rain, I went outside to play and jump in puddles during a week day. In Panama, we wear uniforms to school, and you might imagine my 10-year-old-self splashing muddy puddle-water all over my skirt, my shoes and socks were soaked, my gray polo was almost ruined. I got scolded for doing that, because I’m not the one who had to wash my uniform. My mother taught me to be considerate of others, especially if they do me favors.
    This other time I left my toys outside and it poured the rest of the afternoon. I was so pissed that my dolls were now wet and nasty, and I complained to my mom for about half an hour. Once I was done ranting, she told me: “that’s why you should be responsible for your own things.” I learned to take care of my possessions.
    Since I’m kind of forgetful and usually left my poncho/umbrella at home, I got wet on multiple occasions while walking back from school. I just wanted my mom to pick me up, but why would she do that when we lived literally a block away and I could just grab an umbrella. She then proceeded to nicely fold a poncho and stick it in my backpack. She taught me to be prepared.
    Thanks mom, for also teaching me the value in small things. For some reason, it always rained on my birthday until I reached middle school. And with every rainy birthday, a little snail visited my back yard. This totally sounds fake, but I swear to you I had a friend snail who came every year for my birthday. I don’t even know if snails can live that long, but I’m gonna keep pretending it was the same one. His name was Charlie, because I wasn’t that creative, and he was always glued to the wall when I went out the side door towards the yard. I loved my little buddy and my mom would tell me that he came to wish me happy birthday and that I should be grateful for this tiny miracle.
    I believe in every little bit of wisdom my mother shares with me on rainy days. Of course, my mom is always giving me advice and sharing her motherly knowledge, but I appreciate some of them more than others, because those have become aspects of my personality. Plus I love rain, so I just wanted to write about it.

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  3. As many of us have heard by now, the Transylvania community lost a prime member Saturday to a tragic accident. While I was not close friends with Katie, I have many memories with her. From always stopping by her room freshman year to chat, to her joining Chi Omega, to badminton class this current semester, I will always cherish the times I spent with her. I am lucky to have known her and am thankful that we were able to reconnect this semester during our badminton class. We were by far the worst in the class and were always partners. Despite how bad we were at first we always laughed it off and made the best of our horrible skills. Towards the end of the quarter we had both showed great improvement and together became legitimate badminton players. Since the quarter ended a few weeks ago I had not really seen Katie since. Now knowing I will not have a chance to see her again reminds me of how we need to cherish every moment of everyday. Although sometimes it is hard to always be positive and take life step by step, situations like this prove how short life can be. It is never fair when a person, especially a young person is taken from this Earth but it is part of life. I love to do adventurous things but there is always that fear in the back of my mind, “what if something happens.” I have been working hard to stop living with fear and start living in the moment more. This I believe that life is short so live every moment.

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  4. It seems like I used to always have at least a couple small injuries. I have never worn Bandaids; before my cushy college life, it just would have been a waste of resources. I was always outside or with animals or with little kids: I didn’t think twice about a cut. It felt weird to me when I realized I missed being hurt—what a crazy thing to miss, having my skin split and watching it slowly stitch itself back together.

    After some thought, though, I don’t think I’m crazy. I feel comfort knowing, somehow, that my short-lived scars will stay around long enough to see me through this or that—I’ll catch myself thinking, that won’t be healed before this is over. My body will still be working on that for weeks after this is finished. The healing of cuts, when shallow and clean, is so well-paced, I think. Slow, but consistent, done thoroughly and very rarely resulting in permanent damage. I never seemed to be able to scar. I’ve managed three small scars, from cuts deep enough to draw droplets of purple-looking blood. I got them from a hedgeapple tree, drug under by my horse, and really, I’ve loved them ever since. They remind me of recklessness, that I’m lucky to only have these thin white reminders of everything that could have happened, and they make me glad that I wasn’t afraid.

    Sometimes now, I’ll notice a direct correlation between the number of stupid, small injuries I have and how happy I am. I think they remind me I’m alive, that I’m a person with an interesting life to be lived. I kind of need those small, temporary souvenirs, giving concrete documentation to my sometimes surreal memories. They are real, and they can hurt and heal and continue to live. My injuries are a part of me, moving through their own pains, healing at their own pace— they remind me that I have a choice to do the same.

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  5. If you haven’t heard of goodreads.com, I hope you go to the website immediately after reading this. Goodreads.com is a website, sponsered by Amazon, is basically a social media site for book lovers. It lets you keep track of all of the books you’ve ever read, connect with other fellow book lovers, and receive recommendations for books that you should read in the future. Not only that, but the recommendations are based on how you’ve rated other books. Smart recommendations! What more could you want?
    Before I had good reads, I had something called “Shelfari.” It was basically the same thing, but was geared more towards the young adult crowd. Recently, Amazon announced that Shelfari would be merging with goodreads.com and I was forced to switch over. And I’m glad I did! All of my parents friends have been on goodreads.com for years and it has opened up a whole new world of book suggestions. Goodreads.com even lets you update how far you are into the book. Seriously, they thought of everything!
    I think my favorite thing about goodreads.com is the fact that you can set goals for yourself. When the new year rolls around, goodreads.com asks you if you want to set a goal for how many books you would like to read in the coming weeks. There’s something about meeting a goal that is really satisfying and goodreads.com provides an easy goal to meet. You could literally set your goal to be “1 book in 2016” and then, hooray, you’ve met another goal! I believe in goodreads.com.

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  6. I believe in peeling.

    It started with my nails. The thin top layer that sometimes becomes apparent is my absolute favorite way to occupy myself when things are slow around me. I would always get in trouble for doing it when I was young, but I think my dad just didn’t like the nail pieces that ended up on his spotless floor.

    I moved onto my lips. I pick at them even when they are perfectly healthy, when there isn’t really anything to pick. It’s a habit that reappears when I’m stressed. It comes in waves. You can almost read my mental health based on how bloody my lips are. Lately they’ve been bad. I have to keep paper towels in my backpack because I get carried away sometimes in class and I have to stop the blood coming from my mouth somehow.

    When I’m out of thin upper layer on my nails I move on to the nail itself. My fingers bleed. I have never had long nails. Nail polish doesn’t last more than a day.

    This belief doesn’t apply just to myself. I don’t like eating onions unless they’re cooked and even then it’s on a case-by-case basis. But still, when I see Franklin cooking with onions, and I notice the second outermost but still papery layer still in tact I get anxious. I get upset. I ask- why didn’t you finish peeling it?

    The same applies for garlic. It broke my heart when he unwrapped the tin foil around the salmon and I saw the garlic clove- unpeeled. It was hard for me to wrap my head around. I asked- wouldn’t the flavor get out better if you peel it more?

    As of late I try to keep my thumbnails short, limiting how much utility they have. I keep chapstick in my purse though it remains largely unutilized. These small habits that have followed me through my life bring me such solace and in equal parts embarrassment. It’s not something I can keep secret. I do it in public. I do it at work. I do it in class. I feel rude. I feel comfort. It comes in waves. I continue to peel.

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  7. I believe that you should always help people in need. When people get into troubles, you should always give a hand and pull them out of trouble.
    When I first came to America, I can barely speak English. I came to the United State by myself when I was 15. On my way to the United States, I was so lost. I did not know how to fill out all the forms, how to find the gates for the airplane and how to get to another terminal in a huge airport. I was really nervous and scared to ask others for help. I asked a lot of people for helps on my way. All of the people were being really helpful and friendly to me. They would explain to me everything again and again to make sure I understood it. Some people would even take me to to place that I needed to go. They helped me so much. with their helps, I finally arrived to my school. Without the helps from others, I might not be able to figure out everything by myself. I was really thankful for everyone who helped me. It might not be a big deal for them to help me, however, those helps mean so much to me.

    Because of those people who helped me. I always help people in need. Once, one of my friend had an emergency and was sent to the hospital. He did not have the money to pay for hospital. So he asked me for a thousand box. Although it was a large amount of money, I knew that I was the only one who can help him and he really need this money. So I let him borrow the money with no hesitation. He gave me the money back during the next semester.

    I believe that you should always help people in need.

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  8. I believe in driving down backwoods late at night and cursing like a sailor and taking a drag off of a cigarette but not in a romantic way, more like a trying-to-stay-afloat way. Watching city limit signs pass by and disappear into the blackness of the night while someone blares music. But it can’t be just any kind of music, it has to either be the kind that pierces your soul and makes you think about the deepest parts of yourself or the kind that has nice bass that booms through your bones.
    I like riding shotgun and not talking; I hate it when you can’t sit comfortably with someone in silence. A rugged silence is what I believe in; it’s not white noise or the absence of noise at all but not talking that is so nice. You have time to observe the moonlight shining on the fields below and the whoosh of other cars as they speed by on these abandoned roads.
    Letting someone else drive through and around and over and under the hills and flatlands while you watch from the sideline as the music hits you and the stars come out is one of the best feelings in the world. You are simply an observer; no longer a participant. It’s a fleeting sense of release until you fly down the next hill and the blue PNC Bank in the distance beams.
    There’s a certain kind of assurance that comes with the fact that Lexington always pulls you back in. Like a wave, the city pulls me back in because I am not a country girl even if I enjoy a specific brand of silence; I am a city girl that flips off men in trucks that harass women on the side of roads.
    I believe in that rugged silence that is never truly silence.

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  9. I believe it is very easy to take life for granted. Maybe you have fallen behind financially, or someone rear ended you at a red light, or maybe you've had a cold for a month and you just feel pissed off at the universe, but somebody has it worse than you. That should always be the mantra- somebody has it worse.
    I don't always practice why I preach, and maybe that's why I'm writing this now- to remind myself of how I need to put life in perspective. I am the type of person who complains about everything when things don't go my way. It's so easy to be upset or angry when you're surrounded by trivialities and annoyances- but at least you're still breathing. This is something we all need to remember because our lives are incredibly fragile. Any of us could get cut down any time, and there's nothing we can do about it. That's just how life is I suppose, often cruel and unforgiving. It's a hard fact that will never change, and it's so damn easy to succumb to negativity when it's all around you. It seems the only way to combat this is to live life as positively and enthusiastically as possible, and if the reaper shows up for us we can take comfort in knowing we gave it our best shot. Life is depressing and that's the way it is- but we just have to appreciate whatever situation we have because someone out there has it much worse- and for all we know we don't get to do all this again.
    Even as I sit here writing this, I am dreading attending all my responsibilities for the day, wishing I could lay in bed and watch tv, but I will get up and do them all as happily as I can because I'm alive, and that's really great.

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  10. When I was younger my mom would take my friends and I on a lot of trips. We would go camping or to a museum and my mom always drove even if my friends’ moms decided to come. Once when I was in middle school we were on one of those trips. I can’t remember where we were headed but it was just me, my mom, and a friend in the car. We were on the interstate and a truck started to pass us. Even with all the windows rolled up we could hear livestock screaming and smell the stench. I looked over to see what was going on and saw hundreds of pigs packed into a livestock truck, struggling and on top of each other, fighting to get out. Those pigs were obviously scared. That was an eye opening moment for me. Never in my life had I stopped to think about where my food came from. Sure, I knew that beef was cow and pork was pig and so on but I’d never really thought of meat as having come from a living, breathing being, a being that has emotions, thoughts, and a life.

    Some would argue that we have little proof that animals have emotions but anyone with a lick of sense knows that’s not true. People, especially those with pets, know that animals feel fear, love, distrust, anger, and many other things. When a livestock animal clearly exhibits emotional capacity we have a tendency to say things like “Oh look, that cow thinks he’s a dog.” No, that cow knows he’s a cow, you just don’t want to recognize that cows, like your pet dog, have emotions and personalities because then you would feel bad about the way they are treated in society. The meat industry is a cruel one. Animals are kept in terrible conditions, pumped full of hormones, and live incredibly short and often painful lives. If someone treated a dog the way some livestock farms treat their animals, that person would be charged with animal abuse. Livestock animals are just as important as pets and deserve to be treated with the same respect and care. This I believe.

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  11. I, DaeDae. Age 22. Male. Believe that it can be hard for women to sympathize with men. I think that overall as human beings there is a certain level of sympathy that we share because of our universal experience of suffering, but men often don’t elicit much sympathy past that certain point of humanity because of their various forms of privilege. I regularly debate with friends and scholars about how coexisting in social-compounds creates an equilibrium where gender dynamics are in constant flux, attempting to establish a balance that usually results in skewed gender norms. Because of the inequity in that process of establishing roles, women generally get denied forms of dignity and agency which makes it difficult to sympathize with men when the roles are reversed.
    One example that a friend recently brought up in one of these discussions is how women are inherently sexualized, and how that aspect of their interactions orchestrates the way others interact with them. I think it’s difficult in an example like this for a woman to sympathize with a male’s loneliness, or emotional isolation, because there’s no inherent obligation for women to console men. I state that because my friend told me of past awkward experiences where she would hang out with a platonic male friend, under the assumption of simply enjoying company, to have to bear unelicited advances. Certainly, in a case like this, the ambiguity of a friendship between sexes can lead to insinuations about the sensual/romantic status of individuals, if both are available, partly because of the first assumption that women are essentially sexualized.
    I can’t imagine why a woman would want to submit themselves to dealing with individuals that marginalize their agency without being fully respected in their dignity beyond the explicit assumption of their orientation. I probably could have worded that better, but I think that the point can be inferred that it’s difficult for women to share sympathy in some cases because it objectifies their existence as contrived by a notion that is socially constructed.

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  12. In a valley between two mountains right next to Monongahela National Forest, there’s a husband and a wife who live on a small farm. After being with them for a week, I determined this couple is by far the strangest one I’ve ever seen. Like, ever.
    This couple decided to move from their hometowns to a village in West Virginia for no reason other than just because. Neither couple had ever been to West Virginia, and the land they purchased had no buildings. So they did the smart thing and camped under two tarps for six months in the forest while they built a cabin. When asked about it, Scott, the husband, replied, “It was fun, and I had actually been camping for another two months before that.”
    They were very Ron Swanson kinds of people. They did everything themselves. They built their home, their greenhouses, their sheds, all of them from scratch. They grew all their food and found recipes to really enjoy what they ate. They both worked very hard doing two way different jobs. He self-employed himself as a farmer, while his wife, deeply devoted to holistic medicine, became a nurse. She refuses to help the farm or cook, while he is passionate about both jobs.
    I learned a lot being in their presence, even though we disagree on a lot of things. For one, he is an atheist and she is a devout buddhist. They both have a lot to say about death and life and what it means to exist. They taught me what it is to make family wherever you are. I also learned some strange bits of information like when to eat daffodils and how to prune blueberries. I may even take the advice on deciding whether or not I could stand to live with somebody forever by living in the woods with them for six months.
    This couple taught me a lot about life and growth. I believe in Rolling Thunder Vegetable Preserve and the people who live there.

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  13. You may have heard, as I did, our fingers are as easy to bite through as carrots. It isn’t true. I know this because my sister was eating carrots with abandon by the time she was three. The same sister bit, well into her fifth year, my fingers with a clear intent to reduce my hands to bloody-knuckled stumps. I still have all of my fingers.

    Though knowledge lived is typically more true than knowledge served up by the internet, I suspect readers may doubt the intensity of my sister’s bite—because they have never felt the full force of her jaw on their own pinky. The internet, so you know, agrees with me. It takes 200 newtons of jaw power to bite through an average raw carrot—simple work for adults with maximum bite force ranging from 520-1178 newtons. Interestingly, it takes 1833 newtons of biting force to sever the pinky finger of an average cadaver. Most humans simply cannot do this. Sharks can.

    Actually, at 18,000 newtons maximum bite force, an average shark could sever a stack of nearly 100 pinky fingers. Knowing that fisherman who have caught and cut open sharks have found things ranging from full buffalo heads to sailors still in uniform, though, makes it clear that a shark wouldn’t need to bite this proverbial stack of 100 pinky fingers at all. They would simply swallow it like my brother swallows spaghetti—without chewing. Thus our shark would be temporarily nourished without risking a single tooth.

    It is important that sharks care for their teeth because they fall out all the freaking time. Anyone who has walked on the more-sharks-teeth-than-sand beaches of Englewood, Florida knows this. Perhaps this is why less than 5% of people attacked by sharks die as a result of the wounds? Maybe sharks, like the human-citizens of Florida simply do not have enough teeth left in their heads to effectively snack on pinky fingers? Alas, the stinking internet has disproven this theory.

    Though sharks loose an average of 3 teeth every single day of their average 25 year life, their average mouths bristle with 15 rows teeth and new ones roll in to replace those lost as if on conveyor belts. It is no wonder I swim in self-doubt about my own, but I totally believe in sharks’ teeth.

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  14. You can see them on the beach as long as there’s daylight: old men in plaid shorts and one-color polo shirts, old women in one-piece bathing suits, an oversized see-through shirt wrapped around the suit, not-so-old men with long pony tails and Quiksilver rash-guard shirts, even the occasional middle-aged hippie, a cigarette dangling idly from his left hand.

    “They are searching for fossilized shark teeth.” I’m offered this explanation on my first day on Manasota Key: day 1 of my first-ever visit to Florida. I am told shark teeth can be hard to find, “unless you put your mind to it and promise them away.” I am told all it takes is being able to see them: “Once you learn to see them, you’ll spot them everywhere.” I am told others before me have collected as many as 500 during their 2-week residency at the Hermitage, an artist paradise-in-the-making.

    It takes 3 days for my sharpened shark-tooth vision to kick in. As the sun sets on the third day, I kneel in the warm ocean water flowing over dark bits of triangular smoothness. I quickly gather a handful: remnants of death near some other shore, during someone else’s lifetime.

    My affection for shark teeth wanes. I can’t tell which tip of each tooth used to rest inside the shark’s gums. I find it hard to imagine death in dark waters. It’s Florida’s bright colors that draw people here. “Welcome to the sunshine state.”

    Personally, I’d rather find a clam shell. Ever present, clam shells require no special vision. I am fond of the large ones: big enough to fill the hollow of my palm. Last night I used two of my clam shells as holders for tea lights. We shared a salad of kale, bread crumbs, and cranberries on each side of my improvised candle holders.

    I believe in ordinary shells, good for hosting summer dinners and safekeeping house keys.

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  15. How often does a being's name accurately indicate something about them? How often do we use names to determine how we feel about someone? These questions resurfaced as I was trying to think up a name for my favorite sewing machine. The one on the end.

    There are all kinds of books and websites that will tell you thousands of “meaningful baby names,” names that symbolize the hard-working or compassionate or successful. Things most people want their children to be. Since I treat a lot of the forces in my life with the same attitude as I hold toward people (or alternatively, since I respect sewing machines at least as much, if not more than most babies), I decided to try searching “baby names for reliability.”

    At first, it seemed normal to me. Some results were “Thomas, John, William...” Okay. I've heard those about a million times. “But why?” I thought about it for a second, and it seemed stupid that I even had questioned it. None of the names I found said to mean “reliable” or “trustworthy” or anything were ever Jamal. Or Kamar. Or Stefon. To get those names, you have to type “black” in front of whatever you're searching for. White is the default prefix.

    I remembered a study where employers were given a list of applicants and asked to rate them on employability. All of these applicants had equitable qualifications, so the names were the testing point. Tatiana, Jelinda, Monique, Tyrone, and Sebastian were not marked as employable.

    Judging someone based on their name is often a subconscious thing, which makes it all the more dangerous. Because if you don't even realize you're doing something wrong, how are you going to stop doing it?

    I believe in the reliability of Tyrese, the sewing machine on the end.

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  16. I believe in unity and cohesion. I was having a conversation with two friends about interior design and our contrasting taste. I find that the first thing I want to do is make sure everything goes somewhat together. Nothing too busy, nothing too scattered. All unified under one taste and that is mine. The artwork is all similar, it may be abstract, realism, cubism etc. but it generally in some odd way comes together because it is my own unique taste predisposed by what environment I was brought up in etc. One person in our conversation enjoyed this space because of the way that a lot of things didn’t go together, it was a bunch of small pieces pieced together in one non-unified room as far as design goes. But they argued that there was unity in this disunity, that it brought a fun and comforting aesthetic to the space. I am one with a preference for plain things, I’d like pastel colored walls, very plain pillows with maybe one or two that contrasts to the main collection. Maybe just a lightly toned earth green, or even just an off white, or something like that on the walls, making all the posters, prints and art pop from the walls. But, at this point in life I don’t have the privilege to design a room with things I want, I probably never will, I’m sure my living room will always be in constant gestation. Adding new pieces to the walls, new furniture etc. But you can’t always have one unified room when you share it with someone or even with yourself, especially if you are an individual under the belief that you’re rarely unified, or at all. So now I’ll just piece things together cheaply and affordably, I’ll never buy anything that isn’t my taste so it will be unified in some way, but never comfortably stagnant. I’d hate to ever see anything start to rust.



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  17. I feel like everyone has some type of fear regarding a doctor. A lot of folks share the common fear of the dentist. I on the other hand fear the eye doctor. The reason being that when I was younger I had two surgeries on my left eye. A muscle that helped my eye ball move was paralyzed. So if I wanted to look to the left or right of me I would have to move my whole head rather than my eyeball. My mom still has pictures of me tilting my head sideways so I could actually see what was going on.
    I had my first surgery when I was about 4. I don’t remember much except holding on to a teddy bear that the hospital gave me and breathing in the “strawberry air.” The last surgery was when I was 7. I was weirdly excited for the surgery. I even helped the nurse put my IV in. The surgery went well and my eye was healed, except I still can’t wink with my left eye. I had to return to UK every so often for check ups. During those check ups the eye doctor would always dilate my eyes, and as a child it kind of freaked me out. Finally, my mom decided I should just go to a regular eye doctor rather than UK. Everything about this whole situation scarred me. I think that is why I have such a fear of the eye doctor. I made my mom go to the eye doctor with me until I was 20. I still get a little nervous when I get the postcard in the mail telling me my appointment is near. All in all, I am grateful and believe in the eye doctor.

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  18. One of the most important moments I recall from high school was when Mr. Cruse parted his first day wisdom to not argue with others. Now, he did not mean to not argue about subjects which go against one’s values but mostly petty subjects; like trivia or minor inaccuracies. I strive to live this way and I feel like it has made me a pretty easy going and open minded individual for the most part. For me, and I feel like for many others, there might be some idea or subject that is unusually upsetting despite it having no true impact on one’s life that the mere thought of it leads to rants and rage of no other. This subject, for me, would be the astronomically unbelievable idea of astrology.

    I feel horoscopes are respected in the same manner as a fortune cookie where you take it with a pitcher of salt and feel amusement if the broadly general statements coincide with daily life;That, I find no problem with. The problems arise when some Mcmindful New Age website writes about how “Martian moon beams shall set a new step in your life” next to articles of evil “chemicals” found in today’s food. It must feel really good to be H. Sapien, the biological special snowflake that co inhabit one planet with a projected :

    7,700,000 animals
    611,000 Fungi
    298,000 plants

    And don’t forget the unseen world of microbial life that trumps all of those numbers. Does Venus Retrograde release a sexual awakening for E. Coli too?

    As said, I do not think astrology is taken too seriously on a macroscale, and it’s sphere of influence is negligible, but pseudoscience of new age nonsense seems to make me tick every now and then. I do not believe in pseudoscience

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  19. I believe in hard work. I was really skinny my sophomore year in high school. I probably only weight about 110 pounds. I did a lot of sports; however, I was not muscular at all. I want to do better at sports and to look better my junior year. A lot of my friends from my high school work out everyday, and they kept encouraging me to work with them. So I started to work out. Training in the gym was not an easy thing to do. It required a lot of dedications and time. I still remember that after my first day of working out, I can barely move my arms the second day. I cannot bend my arm at all, because I pushed myself too hard on the first day. I had to keep my hands in my pockets, so my arms can lean on something. Although my arms hurt really bad, I did not give up on working out. I started over the next week. Working out in the gym could be really boring sometimes, my friends always help to push me and to encourage me to keep going to the gym. I always had the thoughts to taking a day off when I got really tried from training. However, I never took any rest longer than a week for my working out progress. I kept going to the gym till college. In the college, I met a a lot of new friends in the gym. We all had the same interests. I felt great every time I worked out. I knew that I am getting stronger everyday and becoming more athletic. Today I did the competition for the Mr.T for Transy, which is the competition for the strongest men in the gym. The winners’ name would show up on the board. I did really good on the test, I lifted my body weight and squad my body weight easily. And ran pretty fast. I believe my name would show up on the broad. I believe in hard work, all the hard work will pay off one day.

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  20. Yesterday I was talking to a friend over coffee, we talked about my ingenious app ideas, they’re really not too good though, we talked about relationships and commitment. But most of all we talked about what we are both up to, and even though we are both quite busy and he has his life pretty put together from what I can tell we both had similar issues. A fear of not having control and feeling that we might lose I on occasion, but at the same time we agreed our privilege is the largest in the world, it was nice putting our first world lives into context together talking about music. How the only thing really stimulating contemporary is hip hop music, then we talked about race and music. The constant coopting of cultures by white musicians etc. It was pretty good, that’s why I believe in getting together with likeminded people occasionally and sharing our concerns and ideas. It’s always good to bring things into context.

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  21. Yesterday I was talking to a friend over coffee, we talked about my ingenious app ideas, they’re really not too good though, we talked about relationships and commitment. But most of all we talked about what we are both up to, and even though we are both quite busy and he has his life pretty put together from what I can tell we both had similar issues. A fear of not having control and feeling that we might lose I on occasion, but at the same time we agreed our privilege is the largest in the world, it was nice putting our first world lives into context together talking about music. How the only thing really stimulating contemporary is hip hop music, then we talked about race and music. The constant coopting of cultures by white musicians etc. It was pretty good, that’s why I believe in getting together with likeminded people occasionally and sharing our concerns and ideas. It’s always good to bring things into context.

    ReplyDelete