Sunday, February 22, 2009


Okay, so sometimes i get dictionary happy. I LOVE to look words up and find out EXACTLY what they mean. By whose standards?! I know not. But the standards are someone's standards and generally America accepts them to be the standards. I am an American too, so i also accept those standards.

I like to look up words to gain a better understanding of my role in this world, and also to expand my vocabulary. The mere existence of dictionaries is why i don't really like the habit of consistent swearing. I submit we all get a little more creative! (Like in Princess Diaries "Shut UP!" "I beg your pardon!" "Oh no, ma'am, it means any number of things! -Oh my! -Gee Whiz! - Golly Wolly!") There are so many words to use. I want to be able to use them all.

But often times i like to look up words that apply to me in my situations of life. My responsibilities at work, for instance, require me to "teach" and to "assist." So I looked those ones up. When I have to write papers or give talks in church i like to look up the words i'm concentrating on. It often helps me focus and see those words in a different light.

Reflecting back on the work comment, however - please note that I work for the Office of Information Technology, as of this past fall. Yes. Technology. Today I voluntarily sat down to learn about things called "WAMP," "PHP," and "MySQL." We talked of open source programs, operating systems, processors, codes, and other strange computer jargon, and i became awfully excited when i figured out how to do all the neat-o things on a mac using "MAMP" and downloading programs off "drupal." I figured out what to do when my Apache server was connecting but not my MySQL server (and for those of you who were wondering i just had to go into my system and change the location of where the PHP looks for the socket file. Duh! :)
It's unbelievably gratifying to do all this and quite frankly, it got me rather excited to pursue more of these great tricks.

But - fearing the inevitable, and realizing what i've become - I looked it all up in the dictionary.

1. a person who is filled with enthusiasm for some principle, pursuit, ect.; a person of ardent zeal
2. a religious visionary or fantatic

1. Also called processor. an electronic device designed to accept data, perform prescribed mathematical and logical operations at high speed, and display the results of these operations.
2. A person who computes; computist.

slang. -noun
1. a peculiar or otherwise dislikable perosn, esp. one who is perceived to be overly intellectual
2. a computer expert or enthusiast (a term of pride as self-reference, but often considered offensive when used by outsiders.)
3. a carnival performer who perfroms sensationally morbid or disgusting acts, as biting off the head of a live chicken


Yeah. Okay. I'll wear the title proud.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Hicklety Pickelty

I feel like a good blog right about now. Personally, though, I feel like my own personal blog reserves are rather dry. My thoughts are all a-jumble and I don't really have the capacity to sort them and put them down in any inspirational or profound way.

I suppose that's almost a little profound, in and of itself though, don't you think?

As for me, I try to live in a way that is notable. I want to be a remarkable person. There are many people who i would consider "remarkable" and i seem to meet more on a weekly or even daily basis. They are people who are edgy, put together, ecletctic, intelligent and seemingly everything that i think i'd ever want to be. At least, they have at their disposal some choice characteristics that i, myself, would love to obtain and develop. Becasue of all this, I almost feel a little despondent or even guilty when I feel "average."

Granted, there are times where I accept "average." I killed myself in high school to maintain a 4.0. Worth it? Yes. But am I willing to ..Not.. excel in college? Oh yes. That's okay, i get it. But even still there's this voice in the back of my head telling me that's not good enough.

Nevertheless when i look at my life, my interests and what i want to be doing i feel so much pressure (from myself) because i feel like I don't have the resources. And by resources i mean time and money. I want to go to a Culinary Arts school - i always have. I want to be an EMT - i always have. I want to be formally trained as a photographer - i always have. I want to understand art more - and i always have. I want to get a degree in interior design, or graphic design or BOTH - i always have. I want to work in a hospital and always have. I want to get a business degree, too, and always have. I want to read books, find random poets or independent visual or music artists and travel the world - going to the run down hole-in-the-wall establishments, introducing myself to interesting people and learning their respective languages. I want to be fully veresed in international trends and couture, and decorate my home (or 1/2 of my apartment bedroom) with fabrics and art and sculpture from all around the world. I want to know and i want to learn and I just don't feel like i can and that is the most frustrating feeling in the world. What's even worse is I don't know if I'll ever get to do and see and know these things. I just don't know. I think that's the biggest reason i get restless. My spirit wants to reach out and understand but i just can't right now (or maybe even ever?!). So. Sad.

Oh well.
I think i'll just go guzzle down some more cough syrup, get over my bad self, and then change the world. Sounds like a plan.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009


When you ask God, he makes you happy.

When you can smile when everything else tells you not to, it pays off.

When you stop and look at the world, you appreciate it more.

When you say things and feel like you may end up regretting it, you don't have to.

When you need something, it shows up.

When you let light in, you let light out, too.

When you stop thinking, you finally understand.

When you dance, your stress gets scared away.

When you follow your heart, it puts you in good places and on good paths.