I love being alone simply because that's how I thrive. I'm an introvert, and while I can generally enjoy myself at a party or other large social scene, I typically prefer small groups or one-on-one conversation.

I like being alone because I don't have to explain myself, my thoughts, or my actions to anyone else. I like being alone because there are no outside expectations for me to fill. I like being alone because that's usually when I am the most productive, although there are of course exceptions (like when I'm playing Sims2 instead of doing the laundry). I like being alone because I hate being interrupted or distracted from what I'm doing, which is a big deal if I'm writing, drawing, painting, playing guitar, or doing anything else that requires a certain degree of concentration.

There have been times in the past when being alone wasn't good for me. I can't always be trusted to keep myself grounded and responsible. Sometimes without a network of friends to talk to, rely on, and get advice from, I can do some seriously stupid things.

I also tend to take my solitude-loving habits in unhealthy directions. When I'm really angry or otherwise experiencing some sort of emotional extreme, I do everything I can to be left alone. I usually don't have anything to say that needs to be said outside of my own mind; I prefer to isolate myself until the negativity has passed and I'm no longer unstable. What this means for me is that I don't always recognize when I should be reaching out and asking for help by connecting with someone else.

Shawn laments this most, as he really wants me to unwind, unleash, talk things out, say what I'm thinking etc. And the more he presses me to do it, the more I usually don't want to. Sometimes this is stubbornness. Other times, I don't want to be pushed because I don't want to confront what's at the root of my distress--Shawn has seen what happens when I reach that point...basically, a temporary mental breakdown. But he is of the school of thought that it's more therapeutic to release all of this subconsciously pent-up negative energy than it is to let sleeping dogs lie.

Me, I think it's very therapeutic to be angry. Unreasonably angry, soul-consumingly furious, unjustifiably pissed off. Honestly, it feels good to be angry--much better than it feels to cry things out. I tend to get productive when I'm angry: to burn off the energy, I'll start tidying up a room or running the vacuum. (I have yet to try exercising while angry, but it's always an option.)

I get this from my parents. I remember more than once when one of them was so angry that he/she went out for a drive. Isolation seems to be a favored coping mechanism in my family.

Well, I certainly got off-topic, didn't I?

Perhaps what I love most about being alone is that it permits me to be completely self-centered for a little while without feeling guilty. I don't have to worry about other people's worries, their expectations, their wants, their needs. I don't have to act or put on a mask. I don't have to try to be witty. I can think, talk, and act exactly the way I want without anyone there to tell me otherwise, and that makes isolation worth it.

It really depends on who the other people are.

Generally, as I stated in yesterday's QaR response, I prefer small groups of people to large ones, intimate gatherings to rooms full of strangers, one-on-one conversation to group debate.
Right now I'm trying to think about the people I'm around most.
I like being with Shawn because, well, he's the love of my life, and no one can affect me, my emotions, and my mental state (positively or negatively) the way he can.

I'm still just getting to know the team at work. I like being around them because they're helpful in a non-patronizing kind of way, they put up with my ignorance and occasional slowness to learn, and they're generally a good group of people who aren't *obsessed* with work but still get the job done.

I like being around my family because it's becoming more and more apparent to me how important it is to never forget your roots. Visiting my family every couple weeks allows me a different perspective on each of them, as opposed to the perspective I had when I lived there.

I like being around my friends because I'm more or less comfortable with them, I trust and respect them, and they give me the same trust and respect back. My friends are intelligent people whom I can have a decent conversation with. I don't feel the need to make small talk with them.

I *don't* like being around groups of strangers, especially if they all know each other. I encounter this sometimes at parties and it makes me very uncomfortable. The introvert within me springs to life and tells me to grab a drink and find a corner to sit in until it's all over. Maybe I'm afraid. Maybe I'm self-conscious. I don't consider myself shy, but I'm not outgoing, either. Maybe I've gotten so used to being relatively unpopular that I don't try anymore. If I had more time than I do right now, I'd delve into this a little more deeply. Perhaps I will meditate on it tonight before bed.


If I discover anything, I'll let you know, although I doubt many people are reading this anyhow.

Well, it's almost my birthday, which means it's once again time for me to take stock of who I am, what I want, where I'm going, and how well I'm doing. This may or may not lead to some sort of mental breakdown. We'll just have to see.

Last year around this time, the topic of distress was my life path. I was turning 19. I was a junior in college. I had my major picked out, I was working within my chosen career field, and I still didn't know exactly what I wanted to do with myself. Well, that's not completely accurate: I knew what I wanted to do (get the heck out of this state and country and travel the world), but I had no way of doing it.

In the weeks leading up to my birthday, I lost both my dog Kiko (unexpectedly) and my grandpa (more expectedly) to cancer. I also lost my job very suddenly and found myself scrambling for income; I found one at the local YMCA, a job which I would come to loathe. My first day of work was my birthday. I didn't have a party. Honestly, no one would have come.

Which leads me to la crise de l'annee: my social self.

I know I'm an introvert. I've known that for years, since I knew what "introvert" meant -- and before that, I just called myself shy. I've always accepted my introverted nature as just that: natural. It's who I am. I know where I feel comfortable, and I know where I don't.

But I've never asked myself WHY.

Why am I an introvert? More specifically, why do I avoid busy social situations? Why do I prefer smaller gatherings of people I know to larger groups of strangers and acquaintances? Why is it that when I'm at a party, I sit in a corner instead of actively seeking others out or participating in festivities?

Am I self-conscious, or just selfish? Are my standards for other people too high? Am I afraid -- of rejection, of acceptance, of reputation, of pressure? Am I simply content just to observe rather than to participate? Am I antisocial?

Self-conscious: a little. I generally appear to be operating at a healthy level of confidence, but deep down, I'm my own worst critic. I compare myself to everyone else, to the "normal" people, and notice my inescapable lack of charisma and personal magnetism, my awkwardness in certain social situations, my ignorance of etiquette, my uninteresting conversation-starters.
While everyone around me is having a riotously good time playing beer pong or flip cup, blowing fireballs off the back porch, dancing wildly to music, and jumping the fence into the neighborhood pool without hesitation, there I sit: in a chair, usually with another chair next to it in case anyone wants to sit down for a chat, quietly sipping my girly-drinks and avoiding eye contact. Occasionally I'll join in on a game, if I feel like it, but I often feel like the odd one out. Luckily for me, I can usually fall back on my rather-high tolerance for alcohol. Or my  one and only party trick: place a bottled drink between my breasts and lean back to drink from it. Oh yeah. Very proud of that one. -.-

Selfish with high standards: probably. I tend to think of myself a little bit more highly than my peers, especially the ones who frequent these parties. I'm intellectual; they're drunk. I'm sophisticated; they're drunk. I'm capable of self-control; they're drunk. Even when they're not drunk, I know that they're *intending* to get drunk, and that they were probably drunk the night before. Because I don't drink nearly as often as many of my peers, and because I rarely get drunk in front of a large crowd of people, I put myself above these partygoers. Frankly, I can be a bit snobby. It's only when one of the "drunks" sits down and starts having a decent conversation with me that I start affording them respect.

This is very, very bad of me. I should be much less judgmental and more laid-back, and accept people for who they are. Even if they're drunk, they have the same inherent worth and dignity as anyone. And because I do occasionally get drunk too, I'm not really one to judge.

This is unfortunately the same situation when I'm around *some of, not all* my well-known friends. Maybe I surround myself with people whom I deem inferior just so I can feel superior.

Afraid: definitely. In school I hung near the bottom of the social ladder, the butt of many jokes, the object of many rumors (and I have my wonderful last name to thank for that). I felt like a lot of people were out to get me, or at least to make my life just a little more miserable. I definitely felt like an outcast. By the time I got to high school, I had pretty much accepted my niche in the social scene. I was never going to be popular, admired (for anything other than my smarts), well-liked by my general age group.

So I think I stoppped trying. And it wasn't one of those "Who cares what they think, if they don't like me for me then that's their loss" sort of decisions. I just realized where I stood, the futility of trying to advance, and decided to sit down and at least try to enjoy it. It's a hard thing to enjoy, knowing that everyone who matters (at the time) sees you as Less Than and there's no way to change their opinions.

Sadly, this followed me to college. Although I made an attempt at being more outgoing during my first quarter, old habits die hard. Despite being in an entirely new social environment with people who had no preconceived notions of who I was, I didn't try to impress anyone. I assumed the same role I'd been playing for years. The friendships I've gleaned out of college so far have been more the results of chance, circumstance, and coincidence than of my active pursuit of relationships with others.

In the end, I'm still afraid of being the outcast, of being rejected, of losing the friends that I have when they realize I'm not cool, and of eventually becoming that sore thumb whom people feel obligated to invite to parties but really don't want there. So I kind of ... skip the whole thing by not giving them a chance to judge me.

Content to observe: maybe sometimes, but this isn't the driving force behind my introversion.

Antisocial: not quite. My parents are rather antisocial, which was probably a major contributing factor to my social preferences. The only people they hung out with were people from my dad's office. They never got involved with my school activities, only showing up when they were obligated to (this could be, perhaps, why I didn't do more school activities). Add this to the fact that we lived on the rural end of town, the opposite end from nearly every one of my school friends, and my only playmate was my little brother... yeah. You get the picture. Isolation was simply part of my upbringing.

I need to go to bed now, but there will likely be more to come on my Social Self. I think I've only scratched the surface.

It's a bit strange that this question has come up just now...

A few days ago, after a night of very light and unrefreshing sleep, I logged on to Facebook and wrote a note (i.e. Blog) titled "Dear Springboro High School class of 2005." I addressed the people in my graduating class who were responsible for making me feel the way I did (and in some casese still do) about myself, for making me feel Less Than, who teased and tormented me for no reason, and who prevented my ascension into the higher levels of adolescent society.

I named names. I recalled specific instances of torment, and who incited them. I tagged people in the note so they would read it. I went on and on, tracing my life back through junior high and up to graduation. I called people out for their behavior, and praised the ones who behaved decently to me.

I outlined exactly how they made me feel by teasing, by rejecting, by humiliating, by patronizing me. I explained how I got so caught up in the rumors and nastiness that even I began to believe them eventually. I confessed how I started spiraling down into self-mutilation, something that almost no one knows.

So far I have 15 comments on that post, three of which are my own. I have also received private messages from three or four people. I encountered a lot of sympathy. Many were obviously surprised at my confessions.  I also got some friend requests, some from people I don't even know who I assume either know of me, are friends with my brother, or just sympathize with what I was saying. I even got a few compliments on my writing. Unfortunately I also encountered some of the same immaturity that I was lamenting, which I found very sad.

I had to correct some people who were afraid that I carry this burden and these grudges with me from day to day. Au contraire. How I was treated in high school is not generally a topic that spends much time in my mind. However, the grudges I bore remained in my heart, and one night of failed attempts to sleep brought them to mind. And I realized then that I had the perfect forum to release all of this negativity and perhaps impact the lives of others at the same time, to say all these things that I've been aching to say for years: the internet.

I've felt a bit better since then. It was nice to get it off my chest, and it's nice that people from my class are reading it and extending their sympathy (I'm trying not to think that they're patronizing me, and I'm trying to be forgiving instead of saying "Well that's nice but it's too late to make it up to me").  It's nice to see how most of them have matured. It's nice to get compliments on how brave I was to write that. It's nice that next week I am meeting for coffee with a classmate I've known for years but don't really KNOW.

The gist and thrust of this is that just a few days ago, I was dwelling on what other people thought of me for the 10 years that I was in that school system. And today, I log on to Zaadz and find this question waiting for me in the QaR.

In general these days, I don't think too much about what others think of me. At least, I don't worry about it to an unhealthy extent. But I do pay attention to it. I've seen the damaging effects of gossip and how little it takes to send my reputation soaring down the drain. And, selfish though it may be, I do care about my reputation. I'm not as bold as I once was. I don't wear my rainbow eyeshadow with thick eyeliner much anymore. I'm a little less outspoken. I try to watch my behavior and not embarrass myself or others, or tread on others' feelings.

I think this is normal and that we all do it to an extent. That's why most of us don't go grocery-shopping in our underwear. And while I respect and sometimes admire those who go out on a limb and behave as if no one is judging them, at the same time I think a degree of self-control is often in order. Choose your battles.

I don't have the personality to be one of those defiant people. I suppose I don't feel secure enough in myself and my own beliefs and abilities. Even when I make a bold declaration to all of the people I graduated with, I do it behind the safe wall of the internet so they can't come at me with their pitchforks (also, so they don't submit to groupthink as they might if I did this in person; they can each deal with it individually without pressure to reject or accept what I've said). I've fantasized about being one of those people who are so self-assured that they can publicly defy without flinching. But for me, that's still a fantasy.

Sure, I'll walk in a gay pride parade, put an Equality sticker on my car, and be generally open about my bisexuality. Sure, I'll debate human rights, I'll stick up for the little guy, and I'll voice my opinion. But I don't do it all the time, and I don't do it around everyone. I choose my battles.

Perhaps I'm not courageous enough to be one of those revolutionaries at the head of the pack, but that's okay with me. The world needs people like them, and just because I'm not one of them doesn't make me a bad person or a hypocrite. I know where I stand, and that's all I really need to know.

WOW. This question is heavier than pound cake. But I shall make an attempt. Here are the top twelve.

• Creativity/Originality: Too much of what we see, say, and do every day is recycled. The idea of wit has been dumbed down to the ability to quote a TV show. What happened to the dry satire of Oscar Wilde?
  
• Connectedness: Friends, family, acquaintances, coworkers, strangers, enemies, animals, stars, galaxies. Everything is interconnected and interdependent.
• Forgiveness: This is something that I am making an effort to cultivate in myself. Grudges don't do anyone any good.
• Karma: Not necessarily in the spiritual rebirth sense, as I'm not sure where I stand on that, but in the immediate life. Good deeds breed good consequences. Karma means responsibility and integrity.
• Love: The best thing you can do for anyone is extend them your love. Love, such a multifaceted, complex, beautiful gem, something that takes a long time to form, something incredibly strong but incredibly fragile. It's an integral part of my life.
• Art: Poetry, sculpture, painting, pencil drawing, photography, whatever. It's important, it should always be important, and it is a value I will stress with my children.
• Reading: Another great value that I hope to instill to my children
• Justice/Equality: Let no man judge another based on physical attributed, heritage, accent, creed, sexual identity, anything. What one person is allowed by law must be allowed to everyone, regardless of whether the majority's religion says it's OK.
• Freedom of choice: If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice. Free will is the most important concept we've ever defined. And while certain rules must be laid down for the functioning of a society, what two consenting adults do together is not the government's business. What a woman chooses to do about an unwanted pregnancy is not the government's business, or is at the very most a state issue, not federal.
  
• Sustainability: While I admittedly don't do a lot in my own life to reduce my carbon footprint and otherwise make changes to help out the planet, I believe it is our responsibility not to destroy this wonderful spinning blue and green marble we call our home. I don't expect it to happen overnight, but I feel that is the general direction in which we should be moving.
• Responsible parenting: I'm not a parent myself, so perhaps I'm not one to talk, but I  feel too much pressure is being put on the schools to raise the kids while the parents are at work. Parents need to be there for their children, they need to teach them morality, justice, compassion, and responsibility. Parents are let off the hook too easily when their child goes astray.
  
• Last, but not least, Compassion: This ties in with forgiveness as something I am trying to improve in myself. It's easy to talk about but hard to do. But it is necessary for the resolution of life's injustices and conflicts if anything is to be settled peacefully. I'm trying to learn to be more selfless and give myself freely.
  

I'm sure there's more. You may be surprised that Peace didn't make the list, but I felt that it was implied by compassion, forgiveness, and love. And there are other more minor things too, like Trying New Things, Taking Care of Your Body, Sexual Responsibility, and Open-mindedness. But if I continue with these, I'll be here until 4am and will not be awake for my birthday tomorrow (We're going to the aquarium).

I've gotten the writing itch again, and I have some ideas swimming around my mind for the next story that I will attempt. I'm not sure where it's going or if I'm even going to be able to start it. I also don't know how long it will be, but the ideas I have lend themselves to a novel-length story. The genre is fantasy, although it may end up being sci-fi.

________

The entire story will center around a pilgrimage. To be technical, three pilgrimages by three different people headed to the same place for severely different reasons in different time periods.

First person: A noble girl, traveling with an entourage of carriages and servants. She's very, very ill; brink of death. Her entourage is bringing her to the holy city to be blessed in hopes she will survive. The motif around her is one of winter, cold, snow, black, etc. Negative. Death. Emminence, inevitability. She travels out of the mountains where it snows even in July.

Second person: A girl, the same age exactly as the noble, but from much humbler beginnings. Traveling to the holy city alone to seek employment, follow her religious calling. Does not realize that her calling is not to join the clergy, but to meet up with the other girl in the city. Her motif is more hopeful, leaning towards life rather than death, but she will still face setbacks and hardships.

Second person, idea #2--the sci-fi element: Fast forward three thousand years (precisely, down to the day, hour, and minute) from the noble girl's journey. War surrounds the holy city. This person is headed there on a religious mission of a different sort: to detonate a suicide bomb and destroy the city's temple. This motif will be sinister (in a different way from #1's), but with flickers of enlightenment, doubt, realization intermittedly.

The union of #1 and #2 would, if it happened successfully, prevent the action of #3. The story would be told in parallel chapters, following each character separately--lots of end-of-chapter cliffhangers. Will #1 survive? Can #2 make it all the way to the city alone? Will either of them make it in time to prevent #3's mission? Suspense, drama, fear, and unexpected twists lie along their paths. Working title: The Seed of Doubt
________

A VERY ambitious project. I've never taken on something of this magnitude, this complexity, and this serious of a subject. I've never worked with three protagonists. I have to thank Shawn for the suicide bomber idea; when I was describing my ideas to him, he didn't know that I had intended it to be a fantasy story set back in time and suggested a suicide bomber as a modern tie-in. I wasn't sure about it at first, but I grew to love the idea.

To clarify: Person #3 is not Muslim. The holy city is not Jerusalem (I actually had Lhasa in mind when I came up with the plot). The only thing this plot has in common with the current situation in the Middle East is the idea of a suicide bomber committing a mission that s/he believes will be vastly rewarding.

But the religions are different. The terrain is different. This doesn't take place anywhere that actually exists. The characters are fictional; any resemblance to actual persons, places, and situations is entirely coincidental. I'll go so far as to say that the story is inspired by the current situation, but it is not meant as an allegory about the dangers of religious extremism or anything like that. FICTION!

I shall print that on a bookmark that will go in every copy of this book that ever sells. (Ha, imagine me selling books.) I don't want to get bad reviews just because people misinterpret my intentions. Usually I would let my readers draw their own conclusions, but in this case I believe the disclaimer is necessary. I am not a political writer.

By the way, this blog post is more for my own benefit and reference than anyone elses, but I'm keeping it public so that if anyone has anything to suggest, comment on, or otherwise say to me, they may (and please do!)

Back to work. Namaste.

WOW. I could write an entire book about this. No promises to be brief this time.

I believe there are several different kinds of love. Family love, friend (platonic) love, romantic love, and "miscellaneous" love come to mind.

• Family love is usually unconditional or very near it, and the people involved don't necessarily have to be blood relatives. I argue that it is the strongest love force in our lives, as well as essential. People who have not experienced family love are usually worse off in general, and have a hard time experiencing other types of love.
  
• Friend (platonic) love always has the potential to turn into romantic love. It's a very strong kind of love but a little more bound to conditions, a little more fragile than family love. Friend love also involves a strong element of defense, as in "If anyone or anything tries to hurt this person, I will defend him/her as long as I possibly can." There is a lot of compassion in friend love.
• Romantic love is even more fragile than friend love. I think a good amount of friend love is necessary in order to have successful romantic love. Romantic love without friend love isn't love at all, it's usually lust or infatuation. Romantic love also usually involves a bit more compromise, sacrifice, needed communication, and general work to keep it going.
• Miscellaneous love includes things like "I love this song" or "I love to snuggle," as well as crushes or attractions (physical or mental) to others. Miscellaneous love sometimes has the chance to develop into other kinds of love if given room to grow. However, alone, it is the weakest force of love, the most apt to change or be damaged, the most conditional.
  
  • The only exception to this is the subcategory of universal love, the kind of worldly compassion that is usually fueled by a belief in interconnectedness and helpfulness. That can be a very strong force in those who concentrate on cultivating it. This subcategory also contains the "religious" kind of love, the love that many feel comes from God or another benevolent higher power.
    

And no, I didn't plan on putting them in order... they just kind of turned out that way.

Other things I believe about love:
Love is necessary, essential for a happy and fulfilled life.
Love is a powerful healing force.
Love is recognizable. You know when you feel it, and you know when you see it alive and well in others.
Love is something that, when exercised, helps us grow as people.
Love is at war with hate, and will forever be. Only love can conquer hate, but hate can be equally as strong as love. And the battle rages on.
Love is limitless; it can always keep growing, and if for some reason you feel it stop, it means you are losing it.
Love is refreshing, enhancing, protective, comfortable, and liberating.
Love is challenging and can fall apart if not tended to.
Love of any kind can exist between any two people, no matter their gender.
Love is personal. It's one of the few things we truly own, that does not some way belong to something else. My love for you will always be mine, and no one else can have it.

That's about all that my brain is going to dump right now. I could elaborate on each one of those points, but this is the SparkNotes version of my beliefs.


Namaste.

I think I've been thinking for myself for most of my life. Growing up, the only ones who really influenced the way I thought were my parents. During most of my childhood we lived in a "subrural" community, not quite in the boondocks but far enough away from everything that it was a hassle for me to visit friends. There were no kids around who were my age, so I played with my younger brother nearly every day until I hit my teens. So it's not like I was getting pressure from other kids.

At school, I was "assigning" myself projects as early as first grade, when I designed two projects about the solar system and about butterflies. In first grade I also wrote the first story I remember writing, about a penguin, because I forgot to do my book report homework. I continued to write stories and I still do, and in a way, *that* alone is thinking for myself.

I've always been a creative person who comes up with ideas, plays pretend, and gets restless when I have nothing to do. So by inventing things to keep me occupied, I was thinking for myself. I guess you could say I "learned" this when I was encouraged and praised by the adults in my life (parents, teachers, family) to grow creatively.

EDIT:
Upon more thought...

I learned how to think for myself spiritually because my parents never enforced any kind of dogma on me. We went to church until I was seven (Episcopalian) but all I remember was going into the back room to play with the other kids because the service was sooooo boring. The only other church services I went to were funerals, and I found them offensive. Both of the funerals in my memory included the pastor/preacher/whateverman saying "If you need some help in this time of grief, come to this church"! It was like a banner ad on a casket. Disgusting.

No one ever told me Jesus died for my sins until I was too old to believe it anymore.

I was churchless for ... 12 years before I found the place where I am now, the Miami Valley Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. It's really the utterly best place for me to be because guess what? no dogma. The second someone starts telling me what to believe, or that I have to change, I'm outta there faster than you can say transubstantiation. But at the UU fellowship, the only beliefs they "enforce" are ones that I already have. I couldn't have designed it better myself.
I've also lingered in other religious corners. I considered myself atheist for a while (now? agnostic 'buddhitarian'), I got into Christianity for a few months, and finally settled in Buddhism. All the while, my parents gave me very little flak about it. They bought me a book on Christianity, and later another on Buddhism. They did not oppose me joining the UU church or 'converting' (as much as I have) to Buddhism.

I got a little opposition from others... friends, acquaintances, people at school ... but because my parents raised me to think for myself and be comfortable with my individuality, the opposition I faced did not change me.

And so, friends, that is how I learned to SPIRITUALLY think for myself. But wait, there's more!

To this day my fiance, my wonderful Shawn, has encouraged me to think differently. It's not really thinking outside the box or anything creative like that. His thinking challenges authority and seeks its own truth, only rarely accepting what the textbooks say about something. He's great at sniffing out lies, conspiracies, and cover-ups, although it sometimes goes too far.

Most of the time I find myself in disagreement with him. I like the no-hassle, go with the flow approach. But I admire him, and his courage to speak his mind when he knows something is wrong, and his tenacity. He is a rebel in his own way. He is a geek, and he is a hacker (good hacker, not bad hacker), and I've always said that the hacker mentality of "there's a back door to everything" isn't limited to computers. It's a philosophy of life.

Anywho. I've rambled long enough to satiate me for tonight. Adieu, bonsoir, arrivederci, adios, good night.

Here are my goals, dreams, and hopes for 2008. They are in no particular order.

• Be more selfless/less selfish in general and especially in relationships.
  
• Be more grateful for what I have and take fewer things for granted.
• Cultivate my relationships with people I admire.
• Make an effort to be involved in my fellowship.
• Donate money to my local National Public Radio station, WYSO.
• Learn and recognize when to step down from a fight.
  
• Stay fit and stick with my wellness plan.
  
• Learn and recognize when to apologize.
• Stay in better touch with my extended family.
• Successfully start and finish my Honors project (speculative topic: The Fuzzy Line Between News and Entertainment)
• Graduate in November (sheesh, all of a sudden that seems really soon).
• Read for school and for pleasure.
  
• Be more appreciative towards Shawn and treat him better in general.
  
• Make amends with people who have wronged me, and those whom I have wronged. Let go of my grudges and negativity.
  
• Complete more of my training at the animal shelter and devote more time to volunteering there whenever possible.
  
• Study more Buddhism, especially the things that I can learn to integrate into my daily life. Perhaps visit a temple.
  
• Try to focus more on positive things than negativity.
  
• Submit my writing to contests and *gulp* maybe even publishers.
  
• Make efforts to be more environmentally conscious. Perhaps start a composting initiative within my community.
  
• Volunteer in my community (by which I mean the condo development where I live).
  
• Be more laid-back and easygoing and less uptight, structured, and inflexible. Relatedly, be more spontaneous.
  

Those are all I have prepared at the moment. I may come back and augment this list as I recognize more things that I wish to do.

As always, comments welcome!

My current haircut is an in-betweener. I had my hair at about shoulder length this time last year, but I was getting frustrated with its lack of versatility, so I chopped it all off into a pixie cut in January. I kept it short for a while and gradually started growing it back out near the end of the summer.

Right now, the hair from the very top of my head falls to about my ears. When I wear it really straight, or if I put a hat on before it dries, I look very boyish. I don't really mind; androgyny is fun. I'm trying to keep it short and neat in the back around my neck so I don't get a mullet. Shawn actually cut my neckline two weeks ago (and he was very nervous, but it came out fine).

The most outrageous thing I've done with my hair is chop it short and dye it black. That was in 10th grade, right around my sixteenth birthday. It washed me out horribly. I'm pale enough already that black hair made me almost transparent. It also made my eyebrows pretty much disappear. Worse, I was really into heavy eyeliner and mascara at the time. I was a ghost. This picture shows it.


The worst thing was when it started growing out. I looked like I had a bald spot around the crown of my head because the red was so much lighter than the black. Wish I had a picture of that, it was pretty funny.

My original idea was to cut it short, dye it black, and grow it out so that I'd be all tigressy and have red hair with black tips. Wishful thinking. I ended up cutting all of the black out of it (REEALLY short) and just letting it grow out until senior year.

This is me with all the black cut out, after it had a a chance to grow a little.



This was taken the same time the following year. (I know because they were both homecoming photos, which explains the dress.)


When I was really young I had very long hair; when I leaned my head back, I could sit on it. In elementary school I had it cut shorter, shoulder-length. In junior high I grew out my bangs and wore a lot of headbands. By freshman year of high school, my hair was back down to my mid-back, right before the big chop (which actually happened in two stages...I had it chin-length for about two months before going pixie).

I'm never dying my hair again, by the way. The most I'll do is get lowlights or put henna in it (I'd really like to see how it looks, plus it's all-natural and washes out eventually). If I grow it out long enough I might get a perm; Shawn LOVES redheads with curly hair.

Sigh. There's cleaning to be done. I spend far too much time on this here computer.

A few more hair photos, for kicks...

I'd say my state of mind right now is gray. Not depressing rainy-skies gray, more like a smooth velvet gray.

It's gray because I'm rather relaxed at the moment, almost bored. I know what I'm going to do today, and I got a lot of stuff done this morning (getting up two hours earlier than usual definitely helped with that). Right now I'm killing time before heading out to do the last of my Christmas shopping, attend a fellowship young-adult-group meeting, and go to work.

To me,
Red = extreme anxiety or stress, anger, fear, etc.
Pink = loving, romantic, cuddly, wanting connection
Yellow = anxiety, discomfort, sadness, disappointment
Orange = happy, content, at ease; laughter; excitement, anticipation
Green = energetic, active, restless
Blue = thoughtful, focused, progressive, productive
(Blue-green = the most productive state)
Purple = sleepy, relaxed, meditative, peaceful
Black = withdrawn, solitary, inward, contemplative
White = ethereal, pure, oneness
Gray = idle, calm OR confused, uncertainty (darker gray; cloudy gray)

When I go shopping, my mind will probably be yellow, for urgency. Not that I'll be in a hurry, but crazy mall traffic + holidays + trying to find my last gifts will make me feel anxious and urgent. My Type-A side will take over, trying to make me super-efficient and focused. I really wish it would do that more often.

At the meeting, I'll probably be blue, engaged and thoughtful. It's an administrative-type meeting, talking about what's going on in our group, what we'd like to see happen, ideas we have for things to do... not the most thrilling discussion, but one that must happen if we are to survive.

At work, I'll vacillate between green (energetic), purple (sleepy), and blue (focused).

I spend a lot of my time in the blue sector. I can become obsessive about being productive and making progress. At the same time I can be really lazy. But any time there's a task at hand, I'm blue, and sometimes blue-green if it's something I'm excited about.

I realized that I somewhat strayed from state of mind to state of being in general. When I'm green, it's not just my mind that is active and energetic, but my body to some extent as well.

Well, I suppose I can get some laundry done before I depart for the mall. I'm not really looking forward to that for any reason other than finishing my shopping. I still have to buy my gift(s?) for Shawn and for my Secret Santa at work, whom I haven't even met. Oh, well. C'est la vie.

I have a friend who is one of the only people who puts me in absolute awe. For the sake of this blog and immense respect for him and his privacy, I shall call him...oh, I don't know...Zed.

And one day, I'm confident, you will know Zed. Zed is really going to change the world. I am more sure of this than of many things in my life, because whenever I talk to him, it seems impossible that this WON'T happen.

Zed is self-aware in a way that I've only read about in Buddhist books. Zed is spiritually and intellectually one of the deepest people I know. And again, talking to him usually leaves me very much in awe, and feeling also very fortunate to know this person as well as I do (and I still feel that I don't know him extremely well).

There's something about him that when he breaks down his walls a little and really talks about himself and his life and everything that goes on in his mind, you suddenly feel this intense anticipation. I desperately want him to succeed because of what it would mean for the world.

I'm almost positive that he is (or will be) a bodhisattva, someone who achieves enlightenment but declines Nirvana in order to help others. I realize this is a hefty tag to put on someone, but I really feel that Zed at least has this potential, even if it doesn't turn out to be his fate.

There is something divine about him. Not in that Christian sense of divinity, not purity, chastity, omniscience, universal compassion (well, maybe that). No, his divinity is not so much defined as sensed. I think all of us have the spark of divinity in us somewhere, but many many many of us bury it until it turns to ash. Not Zed. He glows with that spark.

Zed is a visionary and a leader, which is why he will move mountains. Right now he's very much facing himself, evaluating, reflecting, learning, creating, shaping. And while a lot of us do this, a lot of us take this look into our own souls and ooo and aahh at what's in there (and sometimes recoil in fear), Zed does this in a very self-aware way that I think many of us are not intuitively capable of. He is at a stage in his life that feels like a block to him, but he knows that it will just lead to his eventual ascension. He is self-discovering, an essential part of his journey.

The Buddha went through this while he was an ascetic. It's a stage that leads to a higher self; it can just be frustrating to wait for, work on, and achieve.

Zed is one person whom I trust completely. Not only with my thoughts, my fears, my emotions, my insecurities as any good friend would. I trust him to the end of the world, and I mean that literally. When he starts moving forward, I will follow.

Part of Zed's block is that he has an emptiness. He wants, NEEDS, a companion with whom to make this journey. Someone with his self-awareness who will push him to fill his potential, to change in the necessary ways, to go just a little farther than he would on his own. He is aware of this , sometimes tortuous, sometimes exhilarating need.

The Buddha had a wife. I don't know much about her, but I know she existed. It is possible to be a person like Zed with a destiny like Zed's and still have a companion. But the world is wide, its people numerous and varied, and She is likely not living next door. She might take some searching for, some waiting for. But if it is meant to be, it will happen.

Zed is inspiring in a different way than those inspiring quotes and bits of wisdom you occasionally see and hear. He is one of those people that, given the chance, can uncover the divine spark in others and urge it to march forward. I know whenever I talk to him, I feel my own spark reigniting, and I feel the need not to become him, not to surpass him, but to follow him. If you met him, you'd feel the same way.

I've given many pep talks to friends who were down on their luck and feeling crappy, but when I want to encourage him, I don't have to bend the truth or patronize or pump up his ego or anything like that. I tell him that he will change the world, that I believe in this strongly and am just waiting for it to happen. I don't tell him that to make him feel better. I tell him that because it's true, it's the most honest pep-talk I could give anyone.


This post doesn't really have a direction or lead to a conclusion. He (unknowingly) inspired me to write this...let's call it a tribute. I watch him eagerly and with compassion as he moves towards his future, and I wait patiently for the day that he emerges as the titan I know he will be.

Lately I've been thinking about the Rules that I live by, my ethics, my values, my principles, whatever you call them. The governing forces that control how I behave towards myself and towards others. I finally have enough of them mentally compiled to commit them to a blog entry.

They are in no particular order.

1. Modesty is the best policy. The ego is a harmful thing. Bragging seldom brings me any good. Compliments should be received gracefully and not allowed to go to my head. I don't like people who brag, who are showy or over the top, who appear to think highly of themselves and little of others, and who generally act too big for their britches.

2. Being nice to others is seldom wrong, and being mean to others is seldom right. Even if someone really really pushes the wrong buttons, or disagrees with me in a fundamental way, or is purposefully hurtful to me, I don't have to stoop to their level. I want to handle touchy conflicting situations with maturity, self-control, and civility. I'm not out to make others angry at me; I don't wish to create enemies. I don't care how much I dislike a person; being mean to them is almost never the right thing to do. At the very least, I am civil. I don't play hardball. (This is one reason, I think, why I am a well-worn doormat.)

3. Choose your battles. Sometimes it is necessary to stand up, speak out, and swim against the current, but sometimes it is better for everyone to go with the flow without making waves. Some battles are just not worth fighting for any reason other than to satiate the urge to create controversy. I have to know which battles are worthwhile and which ones are lost before they're begun. It's all about what I'm risking. I am always saying this to Shawn. This is another reason why I am a well-worn doormat.

4. Everything in moderation. Buddhism is the perfect religion for me because it centers around this very principle. I dislike extremists of all kind, because I feel compromise is necessary and extreme situations and plans will not be benefit everyone equally. Most things are good in moderation, but when pushed to an extreme, become dangerous and harmful.

5. It's OK to not always go for the top of the pile. My parents always pushed me to perform at the top of my game, and while it's gotten me pretty far, it can also be exhausting and stressful. Perfection isn't always attainable. It is acceptable to setlle for second or third place, or even runner-up, in areas where being No. 1 isn't absolutely necessary.

6. When I'm hurt, leave me alone. This is how I generally react when I'm feeling bad, be it angry, stressed, sick, hurt, grieving, or sad. This isn't really a moral thing, like most of the above items are, but more of a behavioral rule that I live by.

7. Don't act too hastily. I've been burned many times by leaping without looking, enough that it's now my policy to plan, plan, plan whenever I can. I write things down, I make lists, I repeat things to myself, I create what-if scenarios and resolve them. I train myself to bury impulses and only act when I know what I'm doing is right. I am the anti-spontaneity fairy.

8. If I want the job done right, I should do it myself. This is not to say that I'm perfect at everything and everyone else pretty much sucks. It's to say that I generally don't trust the ability of others to create something the way I envision it. I'm a bad delegator and I'm selfish. I am willing to collaborate with others on projects, but if I'm the leader of a group of people who I don't know well enough to trust, I usually take the bulk of the important work myself.

9. Pinch every penny. I'm not as careful with anything as I am with my money. This comes from being financially strapped for several months without any means of supporting myself. I'm not a complete Scrooge; I'll give to charities and occasionally make impulse purchases or buy things for myself even if I don't need them, but I only do this when I can definitely afford the expense. I am all about saving for rainy days, and purchases over $50 usually make me nervous. (And that number used to be a lot lower). I'm very cautious about where and how I spend my funds.

10. If it isn't broken, don't replace it. I still have some shirts that I wore in high school for this reason. Having duplicates of something just for the hell of it is not my philosophy. If it still does its job and isn't falling apart (or about to), there's no reason to replace it. To me this is common sense, and suggestions to replace things that are still functional just seem ludicrous.

11. Respect is given, but also must be earned. I tend to respect everyone by default UNTIL they do something to lower my respect for them. At that point, it can be very difficult if not impossible to return to the same level of respect that the person started out with. It depends on what they did to deserve a loss of my respect, but usually it has to be something major to damage my opinion of that person. I can think of a few friends who have unfortunately lost a good chunk of my respect, and as hard as I've tried to grant it back to them, they still haven't recovered it completely.

12. Responsibility is a priority, and prioritizing is a responsibility. Few things are more important than having my priorities in line, because from this stems everything else. And if my parents didn't teach me anything else, they tought me to be responsible. I don't always follow it to a T, but hey, I'm not perfect. I try to be responsible for my work. I try not to take credit for what other people have done, or try to blame others when I'm the one who screwed up. Irresponsibility is something I look down upon in myself and others.


I'm out of time, so I'll have to explain these two later.

13. Being organized pays off.

14. If completing a job, an action, etc. is futile, don't do it.