Some Background

I ask you for a few minutes to read about my life, and compare it with your own upbringing. I ask you to think about the similarities and differences in as much of an objective way as you can. I ask you to imagine.

This is all true. My mood while writing was peaceful, and I hope that will reflect in the tone of the words. My parents were wonderful to me when I was younger, and still are, and I do not want anything I've said about how I've raised to reflect negatively on them. I believe they did a wonderful job.

I was raised without any real religious influences. The first time I heard the Christmas story, I was scared of King Herod and felt bad for Mary and Joseph and their child born in the manger. It wasn't until later that I understood people based their lives off of such things as the birth of a boy called Jesus and his resurrection. I had no idea what Easter was really about until I was at least eleven years of age. To me, holidays were simply times to spend time having fun with family and to give and receive presents. Christmas was like my birthday, except everyone got presents, so everyone was happy. It all made sense to me.

I grew up without any religious practices. I never prayed before meals. I was not taught to say "bless you" or "God bless you" when someone sneezes, although my father would say "Gesundheit" sometimes and I picked up that habit. I did not really know what "Goddammit" meant. I was never told about God until I was older, and then mostly from my friends, or from my parents when I asked questions. I'm not sure what people think when I say I'm an atheist (or a pantheist or a nature-lover or whatever else I've called myself), but I hope they don't think I abandoned some formal system in which I was raised. This nonreligious life is the most familiar to me, and after much deliberation during my teenage years, I am now content with my beliefs and do not intend to pursue any organized religions as my own in the future.

I did not pray before going to bed. I never got up early on Sunday to go to church. I was never taught what a sin was, or told that I had sinned. I was never taught that humans (or any creature) was born with sin. I was actually taught the opposite, (though not explicitly) that any creature is born innocent. My parents never told me to ask God about anything. They never said to pray about something to come to a decision, or to ask God for guidance. I've heard these things said by people and it hadn't occurred to me until now how different my life would be if I had that kind of influence. I was never taught to blame anyone for my own problems, or ask for forgiveness from a higher power. Any actual interactions or conflicts that I had were to be resolved with the people involved. I was taught to rely on my family, friends, and especially myself, for whatever I wanted (or wanted to do).

The only experience with the Bible that I had growing up came from my grandmother, who sent me two Children's Bibles, both of which I read cover to cover, multiple times. But to me they were just stories. This is a difficult concept to explain, and I feel that I will offend people when I say it, but the stories of the Bible were never taught to me as (and I never understood them to be) truth or actual history. The Bible to me was another book, like all of the other ones I had on my shelves at home. I learned things from it, as I learned lessons from other stories, but I did not, nor was I taught to, distinguish between the Bible and the rest of them.

I was raised on science. I learned from an early age about all kinds of creatures, plants, natural laws, diseases, the weather, and anything else that might interest a child. I was taught to observe the world around me and learn from it, and I did. As a young girl I could not comprehend the complexities of evolution, but I was taught that everything came from the oceans and that every living creature was connected in some way. I could see the similarities between creatures that were related. I learned how to group animals together: the hoofed ones, the rodents, the songbirds, the raptors, the wasps, the bees, the flies, etc.

I really like all those things I wrote in the previous paragraphs. I don't want to anger people by saying these next words, but I fear it is inevitable. It is very difficult for me to take the words of a book to be truth when it is said to be written by (or to be the word of) someone or something I do not believe exists. It is hard for me to understand why I should take seriously the guidelines in a tome that I have survived very well without for my entire life thus far. I am in no way saying that the morals I was taught growing up are all drastically different from those taught in the Bible, as I am positive there is overlap, but I do not feel the need to read it in order to improve my life or become a better person.

Thank you for your time.

A Much Less Controversial Video

This is possibly the most amazing play I've ever seen. Desperate, and really impractical, yet still amazing. It almost looks like they're just playing backyard football or "keep away."

Never give up.

p.s. I just came up with a *cough* somewhat risque pumpkin design. Don't worry, there's no nudity. If I can carve it right I'll post a picture later. Wish me luck!

For The Bible Tells Me So

Would "Damn straight!" be an inappropriate response to this trailer?

Y'all know where I stand. I'd love to see this sometime.

The thing I didn't talk about

Hey Matt, it was seven in the morning. I'd been awake since 11:30 a.m. the previous day (with the exception of two "naps" totaling less than an hour). Forgive me for not being the best hint-giver.

Hey Adam, this is that thing I wasn't talking about.

There was a video game tournament on campus last night, and Paul and I went to play in the Super Smash Bros. Melee ones. I got a "bye" for the first round of the singles tournament, which was unfortunate because I wish I'd gotten to play someone who hadn't already won a round. I lost my first real match. Paul and I played in the teams tournament and we won our first round, lost the second, won the first losers' bracket round and lost the second (I think?). Good times. Such a freakin' late night.

The Most I've Had to Drink, part III

Two conversations that should help to explain Friday night (both took place sometime Saturday):

me: How much alcohol was in that drink I had last night? I was thinking maybe two shots [of vodka].
Paul: Oh, I'd say between two and three [shots].
me: Oh, nice. Glad I knew that beforehand.


me: How much liquor does it take for you to get a buzz? I know it'd be more for me because I weigh more.
Mom: Oh, just a couple sips.
me: !
Mom: I mean, it was more than that back when I was in college.
me: You mean about four sips.
Mom: Yeah, four or five.
me: Good to know, Mom, thanks.


Granted, my mother is a petite woman. But this still helps to explain why I was Friday was quite an experience. I had a screwdriver at about 11:30 p.m. After drinking about two-thirds of it, I was unsure if having the rest of it would be a good idea, but as weird as I felt (lacking the normal quick response), I didn't feel sick, so I decided as long as I didn't start to feel bad, I'd just finish the rest slowly and see how that went. By the end of it, I still felt fine, but was even more aware of the weird things alcohol does to the body and mind. I turned down any additional alcohol, and started drinking water after a few very fun Guitar Hero songs. There were more songs after the water-drinking began. By about three when I left I was feeling a whole lot more normal, and was happy to say I hadn't done anything moronic aside from knocking over a drink, which was mentioned in a previous post. I cleaned up the spilled drink. Mike and I did the Peanut Butter Jelly Time song/dance for Paul, who curled up into the couch he was laughing so hard at us.

In summary, screwdrivers are pretty good if you like orange juice. I had to add more juice to mine because Paul made it "too well" at first. Even though I can see why people drink, I still don't understand why people drink to excess repeatedly. This experience included enough alcohol to make me forget about having to take the chemistry GRE on Saturday, and probably some other stuff that was worrying me, too. Altered view of reality, check. Good times.

For non-school related activities

Latest night evar. Yes, evar. It's a hint. *zonk*

Praying for a headache-free morning

I feel sober enough to blog about tonight (or yesterday + this morning, however you want to label it) but I'm quite tired so you'll get whatever version I remember tomorrow. Don't worry, nothing illegal or stupid was done. Except me spilling a drink on the carpet. And also my arms not feeling like my arms. I completely understand why people drink alcohol now. I don't think I was drunk (Paul might say otherwise), but I was definitely not sober. And it was fun. Lots of fun. No regrets except perhaps forgetting to bring my contacts case and pills so I could have just slept over there. But see, then you wouldn't have gotten this post. God, this is long for an unreal post. Not real post. Whatever. I'm tired. You'll likely hear from me tomorrow. Thanks, Adam, for waking up and talking to me. *hugs* You're awesome.

Many Moons Ago

I love this song. It used to keep me company when I would get depressed in high school. Enjoy.



Hey remember when I tried to be a Buddhist and believed in reincarnation? Those were the days...

Mutual enjoyment?

Recently a male friend of mine asked me if women enjoy guy-on-guy porn in the same way that guys enjoy girl-on-girl porn. I answered yes, but with conditions. I don't think this is true for all women, and my conditions are most likely not the same as the ones other women might have. But here they are: the guys have to be attractive in that pretty-boy way. I don't want to see burly caveman-like men getting it on. Elf-like men? Oh god yes.

On a related note, and this may have been what solidified my thoughts on the matter...I was at the gym this evening and happened to take a spot on one of the stretching mats right next to this marvelous specimen of a male human. Then I noticed his necklace. And bracelet. And his sun-kissed perfectly shaved legs. Trying to keep myself from drooling, I realized what a pretty Yaoi boy he'd make. And then I couldn't decide whether I'd like to have him myself or watch him with a slightly taller, more muscular version of himself. I'm still on the fence.

Yum.

Stretch

So many people come here every day even though I haven't been writing. I feel special for a few seconds until I remember probably half of them come because at one point I linked to this picture of Freya/Chii from Chobits, and that one picture is drawing hits from all over the world. Apparently she's popular.

I suppose I grew bored of the BlogFriday blog posts. The previous week's word was "achievement," and I didn't feel any pull to write on achievements. This week's word is "disbelief," which tugs at my finger-strings much more forcefully, but I'm still doubtful that I'll get something into text form by Sunday or whenever the deadline actually is.

What have I been doing? I haven't been posting here, except for that pathetic excuse for a post involving Firefox, which is now working properly, whee.

I've been spending almost too much time with a friend of mine, but then he got sick of me and decided he had better friends so he threw tomato soup on my pants and laughed at me until I left his house. The first part is almost true, and the second part is a lie. There was no tomato soup. It was minestrone.

I've been choosing people over television, which may seem unbelievable to some of you. I watched less than a quarter of the Florida v. Kentucky game this Saturday, and even that part was with Paul, who was less interested in football and more interested in "Four Things All Guys Keep to Themselves." A fine choice for Saturday afternoon leisure reading. Videogames came later, and I will admit that I kept my laptop nearby so I could have the e-version of the game auto-updating while I gave Paul a run for his money in Smash Bros. Melee.

I've been working. On SI stuff, on grad school stuff, on regular school homework stuff, and on this other thing I've been meaning to mention. I really want to write a novel for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), which happens to be in November. I've been outlining. Yesterday at the gym I became inspired by a song I heard on my mp3 player. I can't tell you which song or it might give too much away. I don't know how I'll have time to do this, but I am going to try. I registered today.

On a related note, I'm planning to participate in National Blog Posting Month, which, if I actually do the novel thing, too, will most likely be compensated with posts about the novel. How boring does that sound? I know. We'll see if I can be creative on multiple fronts.

Now it's time to order a pizza. Enjoy your evening.

Failfox

Is anyone else in an infinite loop of installing/restarting Mozilla Firefox version 2.0.0.8? I've restarted the browser at least four separate times now, and each time it doesn't "take." Any help?

Drunk Dialing

Well this had never happened until tonight: two of my guy friends got drunk and called me late at night. They weren't drinking together and they've never met each other, but apparently tonight was the night to get smashed and call me. Don't I feel special...

Haunted by a brat

When I was in middle school, a family moved into the house next to ours. The family consisted of a mother, father, and three children: one girl my age, an eight or nine year old boy, and another girl who was probably three. The girl my age and I got along well. We went to school together and would sometimes play together (or whatever the phrase is for tweenagers) in the afternoons. I did not like her little sister. The little sister was a spoiled brat and would scream and cry whenever she did not get her way. Of course, she could be sweet when she wanted something, but most of the time she was annoying.

I do not remember what the father looked like exactly, nor the mother, but I remember they had a purple van. Whether the purple van was in my dream this morning is irrelevant, but almost the entire family made an appearance.

I was in a hotel lobby of some sort. A fancy, colorful room with dimmed lights and "atmosphere." And then that family I described above, minus the boy, who I also didn't really like, came rushing into the lobby. The parents were all flustered because they were trying to chase down (guess who!) the little brat who was running ahead (guess again!) screaming her head off.

As soon as I saw her I thought "Oh no, my knee is in danger," except less sophisticated, because it's a dream, and I probably thought some pre-English garble that at least meant "Joint pain coming!" I'm not sure why I don't just take charge of my dreams when I see bad things about to happen. I fall down stairs regularly in my dreams, and while I don't land, the falling is still quite stressful. I guess it seemed fitting that my body froze when I saw the brat running at me. And the worst of it was that she was happy to see me, and there was no evil "I'mma hurt you!" glare in her eyes.

Maybe at this point I was turned toward the wall next to my bed and bumping my knee into it, because when she ran at me and started grabbing at my knee (of course I was wearing shorts so she could see the scar and she went right for it like it was a prize) it hurt and hurt and I think I tried to yell or tell her to stop in the dream, and finally she did. I don't think I actually spoke in real life, though, which I've definitely done in the past. At least I'm sleeping enough to dream. It hasn't happened in a while.

On a completely unrelated note, I'm adding Stanford University, The University of Pennsylvania, and Penn State to the list of Chemistry Graduate Programs I might attend at some later date. I think I've covered all areas of the country except the middle, and I thought about Wash U in St. Lou, but it's just a bit too small, and has no football, which should always be factored in when picking a graduate school. *wink*

We're covering all the bases

Getting football tickets for this week's game was made possible by the generosity of two people I don't even know. Thank you, friend of an acquaintance of mine, for giving me your ID# so I could have your ticket. Thank you, girl behind me in line today, for taking my ID#s and getting tickets for me so I could get to my 8:00 class almost on time. I was telling Paul about this today, saying, "I'm not sure when karma is going to screw me, but right now I'm flying high."

I spent extra money to buy eggs that were from cage free chickens*. I get sad when I see those trucks with chickens in cages tearing down the highway. I don't have problems with killing animals for food (though I don't want to do it personally), but I'd like for animals to have some semblance of a normal life before they are slaughtered.

When they raised the minimum wage in Alabama (or everywhere? Can't remember), these women at the coffee shop I frequented were all cheering (CNN was always on). I know they were happy to be getting more money, but I'd heard that minimum wage increases just make the rest of the economy's prices go up as well, since companies have to pay their workers more and still (probably) want to make the same profits. A bad cycle. However, when I read about Bill Richardson's call for a "Minimum Wage" for teachers at $40,000/year, I felt like that would be a good thing. Where that money's going to come from, I don't know (guess), but I like the initiative.

I'm tired of hearing about Ron Paul. All the quotes people have plastered around campus may be true, and it's nice to hear about someone who is all for removing troops from Iraq, but that seems to be the stance to have these days. Some quick research gave me all the information I needed to know I wasn't going to vote for him. I like how people get all riled up when they hear about gun control laws, acting like they're being oppressed and saying they deserve the right to bear arms. Obviously, we as a country have been very good about how we use our guns. I can feel myself getting a little out of hand as I type, so I'm just going to leave the rest of that thought alone for now.

Someone once told me that love is radical. At that time, I didn't understand what she meant, but now I think I do. For several days now I've been struggling with the opposing (?) concepts of monogamy and polyamory, and trying to figure out whether it is realistic to expect one person to meet all of someone's needs. Part of me believes that monogamy can motivate someone to become more than they thought they could be, in an effort to complement their significant other. The other part of me doesn't think that someone should have to change to satisfy another human being. Therein lies the conflict. Thoughts?

*Although now I see that "cage free" really doesn't mean much and that "free range" is probably what I wanted.

Back where it's warm

There will be things written about Michigan and Canada. This is not one of those things. You do get a picture:


When I hear or read about drama happening with people I know, it's so nice to be able to lean back, prop up my feet, sigh happily, and know that I needn't concern myself with any of it.

What a wonderful feeling: detachment.

Temporarily in the Mitten

Michigan is cold.

I wanted that statement to have its own paragraph, just to emphasize the coldness. I flew into Detroit yesterday afternoon. The flight was late, as is Delta's policy ("we charge less money because we aren't on time"), but nothing really went wrong. I almost got stuck in traffic on the way to Atlanta, but luckily everyone decided (finally) just to keep moving, as is the solution to almost any traffic problem, and I ended up getting to the airport with time to spare.

So far I'm pretty happy that I decided to come up here for the weekend. Yesterday I got to see Brandon in the airport when I got to Detrioit (he was flying out later that evening), and it was good to talk to him in person since we hadn't done that in quite some time. Last night I went to an Oktoberfest celebration and met some of David's coworkers, but alas, no beer or other alcohol was had. Nein, the only thing we had was apple strudel, which was pretty yummy. It was sometime during Oktoberfest that I realized just how amazingly cold it was. The heat was just being sucked out of my body, despite the sad attempts at insulation by my self-dubbed Felicity sweater.

Today we had a lot of fun in Canada and around Novi, but the majority of those pictures will show up on Facebook hopefully in a few days. For now, you'll have to be sated with these:

The City of Atlanta -- taken from the plane.


Dude bustin' open the keg at Oktoberfest.


The Kielbasa Kings playing mostly polka music...
...and old people dancing to them (aww).

Right up my alley

When pressed for time, what's a girl to do but link to something hilarious she read on someone else's blog? So here's my entry for today, and hopefully the laughter will hold you over unless I post while in Michigan this weekend, which is possible as long as David 1) has internet and 2) lets me use it. Without further ado...

Where zoology, cheese, sex, and sacrilege come together, you're bound to find Adina (and me laughing along).

Do all differences cause division?

This week's word from BlogFriday is Different. BlogFriday is a creation of Jonathan Beckett's, and I'm going to take part in it until I become bored. I enjoy little creative assignments, and wish I had more direction for my blog sometimes, so hopefully this will allow me to focus better.

___________

When you hear the word "different," does anything more than a definition come to mind? Do you think of a certain characteristic, a specific person, or perhaps something about yourself? When I saw this week's word, I was somewhat disappointed. What's there to say about different these days?

Initial reactions are often proven wrong. I seemed to find a few words:

With over six billion people in the world, I think we can safely say that no one is truly different from everyone else. On the other hand, can anyone say they are truly the same as another person? The short and sweet answer here is no, for the the simple reason that one piece of matter can not occupy the same space as another piece of matter. Some like to use the phrase "walk a mile in my shoes" when people judge them, but it's literally impossible to walk in someone else's shoes. Once you're walking in them, they aren't the other person's shoes anymore. Your feet fit the shoes differently. As many instincts as we have in common, people can't always think the same way. But what if we look at that truth as a similarity instead of a difference? It may seem counter intuitive to label a difference as a similarity, but bear with me. Provided everyone is aware that each person's life experience is unique, that fact becomes something that can bring us all closer together as a culture.

Knowing that another person's life cannot possibly be identical to your own allows you the gift of perspective, and more importantly, a more open mind and outlook on life. When even a small amount of time is spent thinking about the lives of others, a general good comes from it. We learn to empathize and show compassion, to listen to others with more caring ears, to look at ourselves as others might view us.

Open your eyes in the morning, look out upon the world, and remember all of the differences that unite us. Your day awaits.

WTF Monday: Most Applicable Post in this Category Yet

True story, paraphrased:
-"I just don't want to fuck you over."
-"You're not fucking me over. You're doing exactly the opposite of that."
-"Good." *a pause* "What would be the opposite of fucking someone over?"
-"Fucking someone under?"

"Fucking [you] under" just didn't seem to be the right phrase, especially when used in context, such as "{Insert name} fucked me under." What does that mean?

When I presented this situation to my peers, I received the same response: fucking under is the opposite of fucking over. One of them also said that he liked fucking under a lot better than fucking over. Good to know.

If that's not enough WTF for you, here's more, in the form of pictures and commentary, but the pictures mostly speak for themselves. Silently and with imagery.


Staring with something domestic, here we have the towel bar in the shower in my apartment. It is the most ghetto thing I have ever seen pass as a towel bar. It is a piece of wood wrapped in duct tape. That's why it's gray. I don't want to know how the first one got broken, but I do want to know, with all the inspecting the housing department does, why the people who broke it weren't fined, and why that fine didn't automatically yield a replacement towel bar. Oh well, I'm only here for a couple more months anyway.


Dear York Peppermint Patty Manufacturer, this patty was just as delicious as any other one I have eaten. I'd just never seen one so perfectly shaped and yet not be covered in dark chocolate.

The dry box gloves and I have mutual feelings for each other.

I've been using this computer lab facility for more than four years now, and I'd never noticed the oddball strange placing of fire sprinklers under the staircase. I think my notes on the picture say it all.

Order doesn't matter

This weekend I stayed up past 3:30 a.m. two consecutive nights. Drank wine. Watched football. Was videoed while watching football, because I am that entertaining to watch while I'm watching football. Had human contact. Sent a message to a long-ago friend. Didn't do laundry. Studied for the chemistry GRE and for my inorganic chemistry test coming up this Friday. Discovered the awesomeness of these Wheat Thins.

Talked to Matt and told him about my shopping spree today. Said I spent about a hundred dollars (actually closer to $105, whoa).

Matt: What did you get?
Me: Shoes (with skulls and crossbones and hearts), some shirts (actually three), a skirt, a sweater, a pair of athletic/workout pants, and two bras (holy cow are they amazing).
Matt: Whoa, that's a lot of stuff. You really got your money's worth.
Me: Yeah.
Matt: When you said you said you spent about a hundred dollars, I thought, Okay, so like two shirts and a thong.

As much as I love buying underwear, I held off today in order to get every other piece of clothing necessary, on sale of course.

Wednesday was The Day to Break Glassware

Today was long, a bit crazy, and more than a little painful. I suffered a minor chemical burn on one of my fingers (from what seemed like a harmless combination of acetone and tetrahydrofuran, but then my glove was being eaten away...) and then got into a fight with the door frame. With my forehead. Guess who won!

After spending over seven hours in the lab today when I normally only spend about three, and only beginning to make progress after hour five, I think I understand why it's a popular thing for graduate students to get smashed. I can even see it applying to anyone who actually dedicates themselves to a job, science-based or not, which makes alcoholism seem almost logical in this country, where we value workers who work long hours and do more than they probably should. Fits in nicely with our growing heart disease problem.

If I could have anything (within reason), I'd like to take a nap with someone, because as much as I would usually like to go for a walk with someone and have a good conversation and get some exercise, I'm pretty tired, and not just physically, and some nonsexual contact with another human being would be pretty therapeutic. I wouldn't have expected the trend, but it seems that with sleepiness, my ability to form sentences with a greater number of clauses than usual actually increases. See two sentences ago.

I was supposed to go shopping this evening, but as much as I'd rather hang out with people, no one's called me to do anything, and neither of the people I've called have called me back, so a solo trip to the mall might just be the best bet I've got tonight. Damn, I did it again. With the bunches of clauses, or at least "long" sentence.

Alabama law: No sale of mechanical "jilling off" aids

A friend of mine sent me an email containing this link to a boingboing article about an Alabama law. He preceded the link with "this made me seriously wtf." For those of you who didn't already know, or who didn't just click on the link even though it's right there shining brightly in front of you, Alabama has an "anti-obscenity" law banning the sale of things like dildos and vibrators that are designed for human genital stimulation.

If that last sentence threw you off your game, that's part of the reason I'm writing this post. People need to be aware of the dangers of having sex toys available for purchase.

Enraged by the email, I hastily sent a reply to my friend, asking him why everybody has to make such a big deal about this law. It's like no one wants to admit how much progress Alabama has made. I mean, they've got people of different races going to the same schools and living in the same neighborhoods, they've got new political figures who are much more liberal than previous political figures, and hell, they've even got women in politics these days. If that isn't progress, I don't know what is.

As an additional point, I explained how the law really isn't strict enough, because it's just prohibiting the sale of such implements, so theoretically those obscene items could be given away in public without breaking any law, and what a catastrophe that would be! Alabamians should not be allowed even to possess such awful things as sex toys. Everyone knows that sexual pleasure should come from male-female intercourse only after marriage, and in Alabama, they're doing a fine job at getting people to marry before they have sex -- just look at these statistics for out-of-wedlock births (#14) and mothers-under-20 (#5), aren't they impressive? (.pdf file, beware)

Obviously, Alabama has sex education down to a science. Girls grow up learning the only way to get physical pleasure is from a nice boy who respects his mother. And that's the way it should be. People need to be dependent on other people (of the opposite sex) for the entirety of their sexual enjoyment, and these women who make a big deal about legalizing sex toy sales just need to wear more makeup and get an e-Harmony profile. We don't need anyone telling Alabama women how to enjoy their bodies. They've got Alabama men for that sort of thing.