Senior Project Update

I like to tell people that my senior project is done. It's not a flat out lie considering that it mostly is done. Aside from the research paper, I've really set out to do what planned to accomplish in my letter of intent. My hours are conveniently finished, no mess no fuss, and the my Wake Up presentation is finished. While I still need to jump through some hoops. I just recently learned that we need to pick out our mentor and get an interview in a little over a week. While I was irritated that I wasn't notified sooner, I already have an unofficial mentor and this requirement shouldn't be too difficult. So, from what I can tell so far, the remainder of my senior project time will be spent tying up loose ends and meeting certain requirements.

However, while I may be able to eek by and pass the senior project without doing much more work, I plan on doing more. I'm hoping to do more work with the group that attended the Wake Up and hopefully do more events such as a World Cafe (an open space for small group conversation) and perhaps another longer Wake Up. I would also like to do presentations at the other high schools and possibly middle schools if I have time. 

At this point, I feel like my senior project is what the original intent was supposed to be; I actually enjoy my project and want to do more with it, not just the bare minimum.

Response to "Drugs"

America is a country based on Puritan ideals so of course the legalization of drugs, all drugs as Vidal proposes, seems ridiculous. And it is. This doesn't mean that I disagree with Vidal's point of view. As someone who has seen addiction and the catastrophic affects of drugs, I'm slightly hesitant to give drugs to OK, but from what I've read and the rational arguments in favor of legalization, I'd like to agree with the rationale. Prohibition didn't work, and while it would be silly to put drugs and alcohol on the same plane, the same general rules apply. The decriminalization of drugs makes them even more dangerous.  I support the end of the War on Drugs which has turned Latin America into a violent crime ring and has had largely negative and ineffectual results. I even have a sticker from the Drug Policy Alliance which promotes the legalization of marijuana. I'm not pro drugs but I see the value in legalization.
However, I don't think that the legalization of drugs will come in the near future, a thought that Vidal ominously closes with. It's simply too much of a radical ideal. Marijuana, a gateway drug with minimal addictive qualities and some actual health benefits, may sneak by in my life time.

In Class Essay #1

LINK!

Response to "Politics and the English Language"

More Semantics
I thought that this essay was relevant considering that we are at the height of election season and with the introduction of new ways of lazy language ex. text lingo. For me, the essay was thought provoking, and makes me think, as I type this, about my own use of language and the importance of precision.
I agree that often time, in an attempt to be tactful we often use roundabout language and hackneyed expressions which lead to dull, verbose writing. Euphemisms are a common part of language and abstract thought and expression, while important, often replaces concrete thought. Orwell's "translation" of the Ecclesiastes passage was amusing and, though, exaggerated, somewhat accurate.
As it applies to politics, Orwell's criticism with indirect language resonated with my view that politicians are often too vague and conceptual. In an attempt to appeal to votes, offer solutions, and present their political stance, politicians mince words (I'm sure Orwell would cringe at my use of such an overused idiom) and treat questions in a roundabout way. I especially enjoyed his analysis of euphemisms by which the destruction of countries is referred to as "pacification" and the displacement of people is referred to as "transfer of population" or "rectification of frontiers" Terms such as these obscure the thing itself behind a mask of political jargon.
The article, as mentioned before, made me examine my own writing style. While I did not agree with all of Orwell's criticisms, his simple rules are easy to follow and reasonable. While it is a slightly dated piece, this essay is applicable to our modern time.

Bad Astronomy

Want to look at some fantastic pictures and read some fascinating things about the night sky? Look no further than Bad Astronomy. I was first captivated by the stunning pictures of that capture the stars.
The blog is easily accessible for the common reader. The intent of the blog is to inform the inexperienced about astrology, to dispel common myths which circulate in pop culture, and to provide easy, fascinating information about astrology. It's science-y without getting too frighteningly technical and that writer offers some of his own voice and experiences.
The blog itself is visually appealing and layered with information and links. The writing is concise and informative and offers the reader to look further into topics by looking at other sites and sources.

The First and the Last

    When I was younger, I would often ask my mom why I didn’t have siblings and why, as a natural parent, she stopped after one child. The consistent answer was something along the lines of “because you were the most perfect daughter we could ask for and we didn’t want to chance having another, less amazing child.” And with this adorable face, who could argue?
(Insert picture of me as an adorable baby on my computer at home)
    Okay,  I’m not just making this blog to talk about how perfect of a child I am or how cute I was (have I mentioned that I was a children’s clothing model back in the day?) although I was mostly spurred by a love of writing about myself.

I think family dynamics are fascinating considering that this early environment is a defining factor into a person’s life. Home environments and family relationships are the things that come up in psychiatry sessions. Researching psychological effects of being a single child, a common recurring theme were the expectations. Any of the only children I know are, also, coincidentally, high achievers. Personally, even if I don’t feel the weight of pressure of my parents or their expectations, it’s still a looming concern. I pressure myself because, indirectly, I know that I am the only chance.

I’m the eldest child, the youngest child, the favorite child and the least favorite child all rolled into one. So what does that mean? I need to fill all of these roles at once. The oldest child typically assumes the role of the responsible one. The youngest typically receives the most attention and is fawned over by the parents and the family. I’m both of these things.

So I get all of the attention, all of the pressure, all of the responsibility, and all of the love? Sounds like a perfect recipe for egotism. And it’s true; while I may not be obviously selfish, I don’t easily give up the spotlight and feel like I need to be special, to be visible, to be heard.

My mom lives under the constant impression that I am perfect. Even though it is difficult to judge a child’s academic aptitude in elementary school where grades were on a “satisfactory” or “unsatisfactory” scale I was noted to be, by my teachers, as an exemplary students. Based on the fact that I mastered multiplication tables and simple pre-algebra, my mom continues to think that I am a fantastic math student. However, once letters and numbers began to become jumbled and the theoretical world of math lost its luster to me, I began to realize that math just isn’t for me. My suspicions were  reinforced after sitting through a year of Mr. Hansen’s pre-calculus class in which I floundered.

The point of this anecdote is this: this was the first time I struggled so helplessly in a class and it was a humbling experience for the only child raised with expectations of perfection. It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that math is just not my thing. Give me some poetry or some presidents to memorize and I’ll be fine; give me some numbers and I’ll just quietly slip out the window. “But I’m perfect,” the voice in my head whispered, “I couldn’t be inadequate at anything,” it continued. And while my mom still insists that I am fantastic at math and that I could someday become a great chemist or physicist, I can know that it is not true.

So maybe the fact that I chose to write my blog on a purely selfish, egocentric, self analytical topic is the perfect example of how I’m an only child.

Labeling myself, again.

I am confused and indecisive. I am the rope in a game of tug of war. I am a blank label.
So what am I? 

I want a husband

                     My life has been lonely and as I've been thinking over the matter, I think I would like a husband. As a fervent cat owner, I realize that men and cats are essentially the same. A cat's aloof, lazy, and egocentric nature are all startlingly similar to the common disposition of a husband. House cat, husband, what's the difference? In any case, I believe that I have mastered the ins and outs of cat ownership and am ready for Cat version 2.0: husband.
         I want a husband who is an anomaly. I want a husband who is completely dependent on me and who will follow me around the house while I do things and constantly watch me while I take care of the house and study. I want a husband who is completely independent and will shy away from my kisses and attention. I want a husband who will want to cuddle when I'm working and who will be nowhere to be found when I want his attention. I want a husband who will make me crave his attention, who will cause me to earn his kisses, who will fit perfectly alongside me.
         I want a husband with irregular sleeping habits. I want a husband who I will find curled up on an armchair, snoozing in the afternoon. I want a husband who will stay up for most of the night, sitting patiently at the window while I sleep, contemplating the stars and existentialism, food and world dominatation . I want a husband who will fall asleep on my arm while I read and keep my feet warm at night. I want a husband who will wake me up 6 in the morning on a Saturday, begging to be fed and adored
      I want a husband who will protect me. I want a husband who will keep watch of the house and ward of intruders with his battle cry. I want a husband who will isn't afraid to kill for me and isn't afraid to vanquish his enemies (so long as they are smaller than a penny).
     I want a husband who greets me enthusiastically at the door. I want a husband who looks at life eagerly with new, wide eyes, who thinks every meal I place before him is a feast and who isn’t afraid to get lost in dreams by sleeping 20 plus hours a day.
If I could find a husband like this, maybe I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my life as a crazy cat lady.