World Wide What? Tolkien Meme-ia

In honor of the impending release of "The Hobbit" in theaters, I thought it would be fun to therefore release the horde of LotR memes I have lying around in my computer, much like Moria released its hordes of goblin. I also wanted to see how many times I could use 'release' and its variants in one sentence. Apparently I can only pull off three of 'em.

First up, we have Starry Barad-Dur. Mad props to whoever pulled this off.

The wizard's cat has been acting up again for attention...

Motivational alarm clock.

Ever the fashionable one,

Moriapoly.

Must have graduated from the Shire's School of Smart-Assery.

And you were complaining about summer heat?

Muppets of the Rings.

Mission Nerdpossible.

The Bad-Ass Wizard.

 Look who just joined the Dark Side...

Remember, The Hobbit comes out in 2 days. I'm going in costume, how about you?

Until next time this is the AmazonArtiste signing off.

Wisdom Along the Way

"Women, you can't live with them and yet they're everywhere." ~ Harry Solomon, 3rd Rock from the Sun (French Stewart's role)

Saved by the Bell...Professorisms

I promised this post to a fellow HR-er (meperson!). I can't remember if I've stated this before or not, so I'm doing it again just to be clear (or safe). I'm taking a creative writing class and our Professor is probably the wackiest professor on campus. It is impossible to fall asleep in his class, mainly because he's just too darn fun and you wouldn't want to miss anything.

When our Professor screws up or makes great joke, or just says something in a funky way I call it a Professorism. I'm compiling a list for my fellow HR-er (should it be HR-er or HRer? Both are confusing to those outside our community but should it be confusing for those of us on the inside?) and also so I don't forget all the fun times (memory like a sieve over here).

If I remember other Professor's professorisms I'll be sure to place them here with the appropriate professor/subject.

Second Class Day

Fricative Nut Butter - He believes we should be able to invent a fricative nut butter. No one has been able to do this yet.

Fourth Class Day

Imaginary McStudentson - The name on his papers that are used for examples.
"I care more about your commas" - When workshopping, he has stated that we are not allowed to show more care for the paper than for the person writing it. We have to be nice (which we all agree with, but that sentence was funny)

Fifth Class Day

Abrakadabraly - We get extra credit in his heart but not our grade if we use this in our next paper. I did.

Sixth Class Day

Dersun - Apparently couldn't spell "person."
Charactater - Apparently also could not spell "character." (It was obviously a hard spelling day for him. I used all of these misspellings in my paper)
Unsuck it - A classmate-ism. It sounds less worse than "suck it" does but means the same damn thing.

Seventh Class Day

Prepicife - Could not properly say "precipice."
"Pump huckey out of bunny" - Was trying to say "pump honey out of bucket" while discussing a honey bucket disaster for a setting as an example for our next assignment. This was better than what he was originally trying to say.

Ninth Class Day

Zombiecrats - Apparently, if you want to figure out if your sentence has the passive voice, add "by zombies" at the end of it. If it works your sentence is passive. He had used the example "mistakes were made...by zombies." Someone said bureaucrats so he said that.
Winking Verbs - My classmate misheard "linking verbs" after we ran off a list of verbs, so our professor invented a conversation for both:
The Winking Verbs "Hey, what are you doing tonight?" (mind you that's in a creepy come hither voice)
Verbs "Killing, running, eating, chasing, sleeping apparently." (though not necessarily in that order)
"Killed the classroom like a teacher" - We were trying to come up with an object for our puppy to kill and someone said "classroom" to which another student said "like a teacher." So our Professor invented a phrase that he demands we get accepted into everyday speech.
"Subject Verbs Object; Object gets Verbed" - He was discussing the difference between active & passive voices in writing. A standard English sentence goes Subject, Verb, Object. In an active voice the Subject is Verbing the Object. In a passive voice the Object gets Verbed by the Subject. Hence the aforementioned Professorism.
"Germans think they're weak, we think they're weird" - In German the verbs are either weak or strong. In America they are either regular or irregular. It should be fairly obvious where our Professor was going with this one.
The Passive Yoda Voice - One of our examples of active-voice sentences was "You will steal your mother's winnebago." We had to make it passive and one of my classmates made it active-Yoda-voice. So our Professor promised to give us the passive-Yoda-voice: "Your mother's winnebago, stolen, will be."
"You Struthered it" - Apparently Sally Struthers doesn't breathe when she talks or something like that, because our Professor read a paragraph in one breath and someone said "you read that like Sally Struthers! No breathing required." So our Professor also wants that phrase admitted into everyday speech.

And apparently with periodic sentences, you have your skillful and less skillful. The difference? Skillful is equivalent to a striptease and less skillful is equivalent to a flasher.

We also learned of the "Worst First Line Contest," "Bad Metaphors Contest" & "mittromneywithasmallface.com" (This one just sounds funny)

"My brain had a tumor shift." - Math professor said this whenever he forgot something.

Personally, I think we should get a collab going for worst first lines and bad metaphors. I think Raja would be all over that! 

22.31

Happy Saturday the 13th! That poor little sociopath missed his killing-spree-day by one. Poor guy.

Next Friday the 13th will be September 2013. He gets to wait a little while...

I did make it to class Wednesday and it turns out that sickness went around over the weekend. Most people have colds and some have the flu. I kept telling everyone I had influenza because flu is too mainstream (influenza does sound cooler). Out of our workshop group of six, four of us were sick. Three years ago when I took creative writing I had the loudest group in the class. We also were easily sidetracked, finished our work faster than anyone else, and laughed a hell of a lot more. I don't believe we are the loudest this year, but everything else was the same. If anything, this group is smarter.

It's practically a monsoon outside. So much rain with a side of winds. Good for plants, bad for lungs.

Everyone in my group was asking me to bring my portfolio because they like my writings. For the past decade or so, my portfolio has lived in a variety of binders, notebooks, and stacks of papers. Suffice to say, I didn't really have a portfolio. Last night I decided to go through and clean it up and put it all in one place. It's huge but organized. It of course is still missing some things, so I'm still adding to it for now, but it's almost complete. My portfolio goes back to the sixth grade. It literally is my life's work.

My brother pointed out, "Isn't it sad that you life can be boiled down to a stack of papers?" Thanks little bro! I would hope that a writer's life would be boiled down to some pretty awesome stacks of paper, since you know, writers write on paper. (Ooh, the sun is just starting to peak through. Can it hold its ground?) So no it isn't sad, and yes my writing life can be boiled down to a rather large stack of paper. My photography life can be boiled down to a rather large collection of photos, my music life can be boiled down to stacks upon stacks of sheet music and instruments (most of which collect dust), etc. My life can be boiled down to...to...well I don't think it's near the stage of boiling down yet. Maybe melting down...never mind.

I think it's silly to say one's life can be boiled down to X. Life is complicated and every individual has their own complications to add to life's complications (that wasn't complicated at all). (sun just disappeared) I don't know how to explain what I want to say or even where to start. I just know I disagree with my brother fully and completely. If he were right his life could be boiled down to computer code. Personally, I think his life is worth more than that and contains more than that. There is more to him than code, though no one is willing to admit it to his face.

Until next time this is the Amazon Artiste signing off.

22.26

Technically today marks the start of the third week of college. I say technically because while it is a Monday and the start of a new week, we have school off for Columbus Day. I have no idea why it's an actual holiday, we don't give any presents to loved ones and there's no grand moral to be had (ex: Thanksgiving = giving thanks [gee, that was hard to figure out]). Some guy kinda sorta discovered America. And he gets a holiday? I don't recall a Nikola Tesla Day or Thomas Edison Day, or shoot even a Sir Isaac Newton Day. I think it's extremely unfair, but alas, I am grateful for not having to go to school today. Wednesday when everyone asks each other, "What did you do over the weekend?" I'll get to sarcastically say with a perky little smile, "I contracted bronchitis! How was your weekend?"

My poor aching, burning lungs. Not to mention I look like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I must say though, my bronchitis had impeccable timing. I got sick on a 3-day weekend not to mention I have no class on Friday (when I got it) or Tuesday. I did not get sick in the middle of a very busy school week. So I have to give it props for that.

It's mildly ironic; my brother felt sick last week (it lasted a day for him the lucky duck) and was concerned about getting everyone else sick. I arrogantly said he wouldn't get me sick and it's like the illness said, "Challenge accepted." It promptly abandoned him and attacked me a few days later. At least I'm on the mend, so I should be able to go to class (cross your fingers folks!).

And here endeth the shortest blog post I have ever composed.

Until next time this is the Amazon Artiste signing off.

From the Shelf - Franz Kafka

On the first day of class we were asked what makes a story memorable and what makes it worth reading. These kinds of questions are often difficult to answer, because the answer more often than not depends upon one's opinions or experiences with the stories they've read. One person may say a story is memorable if the characters were relatable and had attributes that were applicable to one's own life. That's the case for me every time I read R.A. Salvatore's novels pertaining to his character Drizzt Do'Urden. I can relate to this character and wish to embody many of his characteristics as they would make me a better person if I did so. For some, the worth in the story is in its themes which are usually many or a single grand one. Herman Melville once stated, "To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, though many there be who have tried it."

Franz Kafka's short story "In the Penal Colony" had many themes and was indeed a memorable read, but it is worth less than a handful of dirt. I understand that to be a well-educated person in the literary realm one must read at least one piece by Kafka. He is after all considered a literary great, but a well written monstrosity is still a monstrosity. I had been warned of the violence of this particular story, but I was surprised to find that it was not violent through the use of action like a movie would be. "In the Penal Colony" is violent in the very nature of the story itself, the ideas which are embedded in the myriad themes, are they themselves the agents of violence. The most evident theme, which I'm sure was the primary one, is that of justice or the contortion thereof. The "villain" of the story, the Officer (none of the characters had real names), is the purveyor of a so-called justice within the colony. The "hero" is to be found in a lone Traveler who slowly recognizes that the Officer is in fact the purveyor of injustice through torturous murder.

The colony has a flawed judicial system; no trial, no jury, no defense. Any infraction, no matter how minor it be, is punishable by execution. The Officer declares those in question to be guilty, writes up the sentence for the now condemned, and then performs as well as presides over the execution. The execution is applied through a machine, an apparatus, that etches the sentence in a script (probably a fanciful one for more effect) onto the flesh of the condemned by way of needles for twelve hours. The Officer is completely dyspathic towards the condemned and is rather a bit of a sadist as he takes great pride in this apparatus and great pleasure in watching the execution being performed. This flawed system of guilty-with-no-trial is representative of a totalitarian judicial system. I cannot think of anyone who would willingly accept this system much less live under it, so I think it's pretty safe to say, no one wants a system like that. The system is not one of justice but one of a cruel, torturous murder to men who more often than not were probably guilty of nothing more than falling asleep on the job.

This particular piece was striving to make a point of how horrible a totalitarian judicial system is, in fact a totalitarian system of any kind in any branch of life is a bad idea. That was the grand theme of this "volume" so Kafka obeyed Melville in that regard. But the grand theme (this grand idea) was no match for the moral depravity that presided within the structure of this piece (structure being characters, plot, setting, etc.). What made this story worthy of the claim "morally deprived?" To make ones readers feel no more emotion other than a sickening sorrow and a fear of death at the hands of an unjust judge is wrong. To write and further publish a story that leaves your audience sitting traumatized in an emotionally drained state is cruel.

The worth should have been in the masterfully crafted exposé of what a totalitarian judicial system is. However, this was clouded by the failure to present a clear solution to the problem. We've all heard the phrase "if you aren't a part of the solution you're a part of the problem." Well Kafka deftly pointed out the problem, but he forgot to mention an escape clause for those poor, unfortunate souls we call characters. The reader is left not with a feeling of relief for the characters, but a feeling of dread as they continue to live in the unjust penal colony. The only relief to be found is when the Officer dies by the very machine he commands, and the Traveler gets to leave, but he leaves the colony in a state of disarray (the original condemned man is free from execution but is left to fend for himself amidst a riot of the penal colony's residents). How is this a solution or even a happy ending?

At no point is it acceptable for traumatization to be written and considered worthy of publication. As this phrase states, "some things are best left unsaid" so to are some things best left unwritten and unpublished.

Out of the Closet, Into the Hamper

"What woman doesn't like shoes?" ~ Stacy London

Ballet Flats

Here's a close-up so you can see the fun sequins:

These are the shoes I wear on a daily basis. Most people don't enjoy standing next to an Amazon in heels sadly.

Saved by the Bell

As I stated much earlier today (there isn't much of that left is there?) college has started afresh. I have class on Mondays and Wednesdays, which leaves Tuesdays open for loads of homework. And I did have loads. Besides reading two chapters from a book I hated the first time I took the class, I also had to read 3 shorts from Isaak Babel, an author I do not admire. Now, that doesn't seem like loads of homework and for the average student it's probably like sitting down and reading a standard textbook. For your average smart student it's a walk in the park.

I am neither of those kinds of students and I'm certainly not average. Being a unique reader and working around crippling dyslexia is not an easy feat, but it's one I've cultured for the past 5 years. So, it took me the entire day to get one precisely one chapter done. I've read one of the Babel shorts before and remember it quite well. I cannot stand his work, so I'm not going to cram his other two tonight because he's not worth it. I will read them at my leisure tomorrow before class.

As for the two chapters I was supposed to have done. The text is "Reading Like a Writer" by Francine Prose. Not only did I write in the book but I wrote on the book. That's right, I have written notes on the front and back covers of the book. None of them nice comments either, I decided to give my own reviews next to the ones printed on the covers. I hated Prose back when I first took the class. I believe I stated in my essay then that she "truly makes watching paint dry look like an aggressive spectator sport." I remembered her writing as being dull and boring and very hard to get through because of that. I figured after three years and learning how to read more critically, I would probably enjoy her work now.

I was wrong. If anything, I hate her work even more. She is as dull and boring as ever if not more so. Last time I read her book I didn't put any notes int he margins, or cross out bits I disagreed with, or anything like that. This time round I had a blast writing all over it! When my camera has a living battery again, I will take pictures to show you just how much fun I had fixing her text. She had taken what was supposed to be a fun day of reading and taking notes into a bore-fest where I smacked my head more than once against my desk and deeply wished to play reverse-Russian-roulette (where all but one cartridge is full of bullets). That's how awful my day has been.

I revised my paint statement from three years ago. Here's the revision: "I understand that Prose is trying to incite passion into a reader's soul when the partake in the art of reading. Unfortunately, in this particular reader, she not only sucked away that passion but instilled a strong desire to run smiling into the open arms of death, so that this reader may be spared from the dull ramblings of a woman whose craft has taken the act of watching paint dry and turned it into a lively spectator sport worthy of the Olympics." That's how boring she is.

I have to have to other chapter finished before class so that I'm not left behind in the class discussions. Seeing how I have four hours to kill, I don't see how that'll be a problem. Today I tried to be critical and take thorough notes. Tomorrow, I'm just breezing through Prose and Babel. Can't wait to take on Gardner. He's a jackass but at least he isn't a bore.

Until next time this is the Amazon Artiste signing off.

Rewind: First Day

Yesterday (Monday the 24th) was the first day of a brand new year in college. I am perhaps one of the slowest moving college students currently alive. I started my college career (and given how long I've been in college, career is an apt word) way back in the fall of 2008. It is now the fall of 2012. Yup, if you calculated it properly you'd come to 5 years of college. And yet, no degree to show for any of it. I've changed my major at least 20 times, flunked a half dozen classes, been placed on academic probation two or three times, and have missed entire quarters (in Washington we use quarters not semesters. So it's three quarters for an academic year, unless you're a smart student and then you do summer quarter as well) due to lack of financing. Well, none of that has clearly stopped me altogether from pursuing a degree.

As luck would have it, I'm still in that college-age group of students. So no one can tell that I've been in school for 5 bleeding years, seemingly stagnating in the rut of higher education. I intend to stomp that stagnation into oblivion this quarter. Turns out I'm over halfway through to a degree (finally!) and if I do well in this class, I get another one for Christmas (my parents awesome way of helping me achieve my degree). Now for that first day.

I had meticulously chosen a class that goes toward my degree, fulfills that final Humanities requirement, and is late enough in the day that I can sleep in on the mornings. Well screw that. My brother had chosen classes that require me to wake up at 7 in the morning. That seems normal to most people, but here in this homeschooled family, we're used to getting up at 9 or 10. I grudgingly got out of bed around 7:10 and attempted to put together an outfit. I had planned on doing it the night before, but I got distracted with cleaning my room, organizing my desk for the impending mounds of homework, and putting together my backpack in that way that we women have (you know that way, the one where we have to take our entire house in our bags). I actually managed to pack my bags in the most unwomanly way possible. The duct tape is even staying home (I always carry a roll with me just in case).

I ate breakfast, reminded my brother to grab his trail mix that I had promptly made the night before, and headed out the warm door to the very chilly outside. By the time we made it to campus, it was sunny and warming up (but not fast enough, so I still had to wear my coat all day). There was a benefit to having arrived on campus before 9 o'clock: plenty of parking spaces! This has been an issue in the past, particularly for this school. They built a new parking lot the year I wasn't here and it pushed back ultimate fill-up time an hour, so the parking lots are crammed shut with vehicles by 9:30 instead of 8-8:30. I no longer have to worry about parking, which is a serious time saver.

My brother and I decided to cut through the student center to see how it's changed since last we attended here (we both transferred to a junior college in the city as opposed to our navy town junior college. The city one didn't work as planned so we're back to the navy town). He only had 10 minutes before his first class so he popped in, said hello to some familiar faces, then ducked out as quickly as possible. My first and only class didn't start until 1:00 in the afternoon, which gave me 4 hours to kill (twice a week!). So I was able to soak in the new layout of the center, see who was still around, and become familiar with some new faces.

The student center's primary layout is still the same. There's the front of the building with it's walls of glass that have doors hidden in them (my mother had the hilarious experience of walking towards what she thought was a door, but turned out to be a window. I was the only one who laughed at her, but students were smiling and shaking their heads). Once through the difficult-to-see-doors, you're standing in a spacious lobby. Off to the left is the bookstore, to the right is the cafeteria. Continue along the right to the back and you get the food area (it's neither a cafe or a restaurant. It's like a stadium really, different foodies offered and ordered at different stations, but you pay at the same cash register). While still standing in the lobby, straight ahead are the back doors that lead to one of the parking lots and back passages to the Physical Education building.

Keep standing in the lobby. Continue on now with the left to the back and you get the Student Lounge. It used to have a very unkind nickname that I can't for the life of me remember. The lounge is where the stagnating or failing students hang out. Some of them do indeed finish college with a degree, but the majority of them fester away in that lounge. The lounge is home to vulgarity of every kind, intense magic the gathering play, anime addicts, druggies, computer junkies, and poorly dressed persons. It is frequently the loudest part of the center and the uncleanliest. Here you may find your hicks, slobs, sluts, and general losers at life. This isn't to say everyone who hangs out there falls into any of those categories, but it is often the case. I know many people who were good students who hung out there because that's where all their friends went, and before the quarter was out they had fallen victim to it, and were no longer good students nor savory characters.

It is often a dingy, low-lit, crowded area where seating is hard to find, and women often sit on the laps of men (which is kind of cute if you're dating the guy and there really isn't anywhere to sit. Any other time, it's flat out creepy), not to mention there are never enough tables to do anything (in the case of the loungers play cards, in the case of students study-time). Well, this year they fixed it substantially though the student body has not. The carpet has been replaced with something much brighter. They either removed or rearranged the lounge chairs so that they now have a half dozen or so tables with normal chairs. Now students can sit and easily play games or if they're smart, study! The students however have gotten louder and more vulgar.

I will not be visiting the lounge again.

I headed to the back of the building after many hours wasted watching over bags, being reacquainted with people that I will never take home to my parents, and wondering why these students even bother speaking English at all if they purposefully choose to limit their vocabulary to words of crudity, vulgarity and sheer stupidity. And I don't care who you are or where you come from, jokes of sex and rape are never funny, especially the latter. I also apparently got roped into some bullying forum thing where they discuss both sides of bullying. I'm fine with talking about my experiences with bullying, so long as it's a one-time shot. I'm not joining a club for it, and I'm not spending any amount of time on it. I'm here for an education in my field, not to promote anti-bullying (seriously, if you want to prevent bullying don't partake in it and teach your kids not to do it).

Anyway, I headed back to the MCR (multi-cultural room) which is considerably cleaner and quieter. Not to mention Jodi makes sure there is no vulgarity of any sort within the confines of the MCR. All the smart kids come here or head over to the library. The MCR is home to the international students, and it's home to where I did a lot of tutoring. I saw a few familiar faces and a lot of new ones. The familiar faces actually remembered me and seemed happy to see me (don't know if it was genuine or they were just being nice, either way I appreciated it). Then I saw Jodi, who totally remembered me and gave me a hug. Before I ran off to class, she said she was happy to see everybody (I guess she was just coming into the office) and especially to see me. That made my day. I was so happy, that someone actually cared that I was back in school.

I went to class with a smile on my face and a happiness in my heart that is still there. The class I am taking is a creative writing course that is split into two sections: short story & long narrative. I took the short story 3 years ago so this time round I'm shooting for the long narrative (which I struggle with). I am taking the course from the same professor as last time, Prof. Ian Sherman. This guy is oozing with personality and is a theatrical lecturer which makes it impossible to fall asleep in his class, not that I'd want to sleep in his class anyway. The texts are still the same so I didn't need to go and buy new ones. Hallelujah!

I don't know why but the class is held in the business building, but the room is bigger than when it was in the engineering building. Maybe in another three years they'll finally place creative writing in the same building as all the other English classes, or it'll end up in shop. (facepalm anyone?) Well, Prof. Sherman doesn't disappoint. He's just as fun & funny as he was three years ago, and still just as bad with names. He did make the class harder and increase the workload, but those are things I was hoping for. I want a challenge and I want to learn what he has to offer a student who wants to write for life. So it's a good set-up.

Until next time (I have one more post for today that'll be up much, much later) this is the Amazon Artiste signing off.

Post Script (Thursday the 27th): I remembered the name for the Student Lounge. It's "The Loser Lounge." As stated previously, it's extremely unfriendly.

World Wide What? Lego Meme-ia

I've missed a few days of blogging (3 to be exact), but I kept busy online. And now I shall share with you the fruits of my labor (actually, I'm meme-dumping because if I do it on Twitter everyone will block me for spam).

I have about 500 saved memes/pictures from all over the Internet. Normally I would have just spammed my Facebook page with all of these while adding my delightful little captions and comments. But I fried my account a few months back and now have no outlet. I will not burden this one post with all 500 spambots. I will try to organize them into groupings and instead bombard everyone with multiple posts. Maybe all today, maybe over the month. I haven't decided yet.

Anywho, I thought I'd start off with the miracles of Lego. I wish I were this creative with mine, but alas mine usually sit in a bucket and collect dust. Every now and then I use them for a minefield as revenge on my brothers, but I'd prefer it that they stay in the bucket as opposed to getting vacuumed up by their revenge.

Without further ado:

Who you gonna call? Legobusters!

Marty McLego goes back to the future...

The Avengers: Some Assembly Required

All I can really say is someone had way too much time on their hands.

That's what you get for using the Rebel's laundromat.

Have you heard Weird Al's latest hit single?

Thanks to the economy George Lucas had to cut his budget back.

Now if we were only taught this in biology...

Lego my cake?

MacGyver was here.

And the gold medal goes to...

A rebel's day off: 

Purr-troopers?

I have a sinking feeling about this.

Lego Presents: The Avengers

 

22.3

My pattern for writing on the Internet is simply, write when a good idea hits you. My parents and professors say to write even when you have nothing to say. Anyone who knows me knows that I always have something to say. But writing and saying are two different things. It's a lot easier to get in trouble with talking than with writing. At least it is for me. I have a tendency to talk & talk & talk & talk... I'm the Energizer Bunny of speech. There is no off switch to my tongue, which more often than not has gotten me into some pretty different situations. What exactly does "pretty different situation" even mean? That's my coy way of saying "gotten me into trouble," "gotten me into some uncomfortable situations," "gotten me into awkward situations that later turned out to be hilarious," etc.

The Ink Blot -- hitRECord

I know there are a lot of writers out there. Some budding some, well, not budding. I'm a writer too. I wouldn't call myself a budding writer, I've been doing this since... Okay the typical answer would be "since before I can remember" but I want to give an atypical answer. Problem is I don't remember when I started writing stories. I do remember when I started writing down anything that came to mind though, and that was all the way back to age 7. I've been writing for 15 years. That's a long darn time! As stated in "22.2" I have not published anything. That isn't to say I haven't anything to show for 15 years in the art of writing.

This is not my first blog.It is the first one I've taken seriously, but it's actually number 8 or 9. The others are pretty much shut down for life. They're still up and readable by some poor, unfortunate soul. But they shall never again be updated. I've already got this baby all figured out (I have a notepad sitting next to me with this blog's directory). I've written (once) for my college newspaper (and yes, that article was published, so technically "22.2" lied). I've written for school, tutored, edited, and blogged my brains out. And then I discovered a site where I can take my creativity seriously, and everyone else takes it seriously too.

22.2

Late last night I promised a list of what I have not done and failed to accomplish, along with the counter-lists of what I have done and accomplished. When I thought about it today I discovered what I failed to accomplish and what I have not done are exactly the same things, and likewise for the other list. So it's really only two lists instead of four. That means, less work for me and less time wasted for you in reading lists about someone you don't know.

What I've failed to accomplish in my 22 years on this green earth:

1. I haven't traveled the globe or even been to all 50 states.
2. I've never gone on a date.
3. I never graduated from college.
4. I never went to high school.
5. I've never had a job.
6. I don't own a car.
7. I've never lived on my own.
8. I've never taken a road trip on my own or with friends.
9. I've never won anything of any sort.
10. I've never protested anything.
11. I can't speak any foreign languages.
12. I can't read maps.
13. I've never published or recorded anything.
14. I've never had a volunteer job.
15. I've never traveled to a different state on my own.
16. I've never competed in sports.
17. I've never starred in anything.
18. I haven't made myself a bucket list.

I know that doesn't seem like a very serious list of failures, but those are the things everyone I know has already done and then some. But here's what I have done:

1. I've been to Canada and England and most of the 50 states.
2. I may not have any relationships but I have plenty of meaningful friendships. I seem to collect international folks, disabled persons (my dearest friend has Down's Syndrome), and the eclectically eccentric (of which I am also one).
3. I may not have graduated in the standard 4 years of higher education, I am in fact starting my fifth year of college. The point is, I'm in college as opposed to having dropped out.
4. I graduated high school. I know I said I never went to high school, the clarification would be I never set foot in a physical high school. I was homeschooled my entire life and took classes with other kids in a physical building, but was never actually a part of any high school. I consider this an accomplishment and a blessing.
5. I'm self employed. Successfully I might add.
6. I have never used public transportation. Yes that's an accomplishment. I call.
7. Yes I still live with my parents. How's that an accomplishment? I'm not on the streets or struggling to pay any bills. I don't pay rent, I'm well fed for free, I have a loving support group 24/7, and I get free advice whether I asked for it or not. Plus they let me borrow their cars so long as I'm willing to run errands for them. Sounds fair to me.
8. I've driven across the country more than once.
9. I've lived in more than two states.
10. I've lived in more than two cities in some states.
11. I've lived on both coasts.
12. I won a gold medal in music. I know this contradicts with #9 in the other list, but I wasn't competing for this medal. My teacher gave me a medal because I was one of her top students and I improved drastically in one year from my former musical self. She felt the need to reward my hard work, by letting me know she saw the difference in my attitude and heard the difference in my music. I also won third place in a writing contest, but there was no prize, just the knowledge that I beat out everybody else for that position.
13. I mediated a heated protest for 3 weeks. Everyone on campus knew who I was for the rest of the year. I actually was treated with a lot more respect then than I ever have been in my entire life. It was really cool.
14. I taught myself Ancient Greek. I may not be able to speak it, but I sure can read it (well, read enough of it to get the general gist) and I can write phonetically in it. I usually end up writing people's names in it because they want proof that I can.
15. I learned all my geography by tutoring the international students. The highest compliments from them are that I'm their first stop instead of the tutoring center and they're all convinced I tutor better than the professors teach.
16. I have never received a negative review or comment about my music. Ever. Hence the successful self-employment.
17. I'm severely dyslexic but that hasn't stopped me from majoring in the English department.
18. The easiest instrument for me happens to be one of the hardest in the world to learn. If I had known that then, I would have said forget it. I didn't know it was hard, and for me, it never has been.

So there you have it. I may not have accomplished the same things my friends have, but I've accomplished some pretty neat things. I don't know about you, but I think I should get a 23rd year. ;)

Until next time this is the Amazon Artiste signing off.

22.1

Yesterday I celebrated my 22nd birthday. The two weeks leading up to my birthday had me down, deep down, in the dumps. I'm 22-years-old and I've accomplished absolutely nothing with my life. Do I even deserve a 23rd year?

Most people my age are starting or even finishing their final year of undergraduate studies. I know plenty of people my age and younger who own their own car, have at least one steady job or are in a relationship. Their hobbies too are grander than my own. They travel the world or at the very least the state. They're almost all a member of some club or organization. Most of them have won an award, trophy, ribbon, or title for either a sport, volunteer job, or some competition type thing where a prize is offered. Pretty much anything that offers up a prize and someone I know has won it at least once.
They all even seem to have more friends than I do. They're invited to all sorts of parties and fun outings. They're always trying something new and grand, they're out in the world living life and having exciting adventures. I haven't any of that.

I've spent 22 years living my life and then holding it up to everyone else and comparing them together. My life has always seemed to fall short, no matter how hard I tried to improve myself. My religious group of friends all seem to walk so strongly in their faith. They're actively involved in their religious facilities activities. They go on missions trips. They go to conventions, concerts, talks, etc. and are suddenly keenly aware of God in everything that happens in their life. I haven't any of that.

My active group of friends all play at least one team sport coupled with an individual based sport. First they trash their school district, then they smash everyone else in state, and so on. They bring home records, titles, and trophies. I haven't any of that.

My academic group of friends are on the president's list, the dean's list, or even their professor's list. They're all actively involved in school clubs, school events, student government, the newspaper, class study groups, they're even good friends with the professors. I haven't any of that.

It seems everyone I know is an activist for this or that, competing and winning this or that, working here or there, doing this, that and the other thing, are friends with everybody else, and generally have a good time. I haven't any of those things.

Then it hit me. Of course my life doesn't stack up to everybody else's. I'm not everybody else. I am myself. I shouldn't be holding my life up to anybody else. I certainly shouldn't be comparing my life to theirs, much trying to make my life more like theirs. I should have my own distinct life. I should only compare myself to my former self. I should compare who I am now to who I was 10 years ago. I was a completely different person then.

Yesterday I took a hard look at my life. I looked at all the things I have done and have not done. I looked at what I have accomplished and what I failed to accomplish. I looked at who I was and who I am. I wanted to post the lists here, but it's late and I'm very tired as I've had a very busy week. So I will post them up sometime tomorrow, along with my answer to the question I posed earlier.

Afterwards, I will tell of my birthday celebration as it took me 3 days to get it all in order. =)  I do prefer spreading all the festivities (and I use this word loosely) over several days because then it makes it seem happier, and keep the fun going a while longer than just your allotted 24 hours that are so standard. I'm an odd duck, an eccentric if you will and I do prefer to do things differently. Last year it took my family and I a week to cover my birthday because we kept forgetting things and remembering them later! =P

So tomorrow, keep your eyes peeled for a thorough list of what I have and have not done, what I have and have not accomplished, and who I was & who I am. It should be an interesting journey.

Until then this is the Amazon Artiste signing off.