a snapshot fading

Quirk! (Or Steven v. the Lorax v. Monstro cage match)

2005-06-10T16:48:00.000-07:00

My name is Steven, and I don't like trees.
Yes, you read correctly. I am against the large, green, oxygen-producing, greenhouse gas-reducing, homes of cute furry forest animals that provide shade and pleasant rustling sounds to ayone who chooses to rest under their protective branches.
If, somehow, you read that I do not enjoy my Earl Gray, you did not read correctly. Go back to the beginning, sound it out... there you go!

So now that we are on the same page, you may be thinking that I am a horrible person, and I might as well get a b-b gun and shoot squirrels and doves in my backyard while lighting matches and discarding in the dry underbrush. But let me explain.

I don't dislike all trees. Actually, I think trees in OK are rather pleasant. And nice, manicured park trees are nice too, with benches and shade and all. Trees on hills are nice. And I am right in there when everyone starts getting naturey in the fall, saying, "Don't you love the turning leaves!? It is so special!"

I do dislike Tenessee trees.

Here, where I sit on the third floor of my apartment, the upper branches STILL block out my life-giving sunshine. As I drive from Memphis to Nashville, the trees stand three and four stories tall on either side of the highway, and as the sun sets, the forest casts a block of shade over the road and covers the growing sunset. The trees are just damn opressive, and they make me feel claustrophobic. The only horizon I ever see in Nashville is at the end of the highway as I drive to and from work. I miss my Oklahoma plains. Why couldn't Vandy be in the Desert?

Next topic: Why I am afraid of whales

If you have seen pinnocchio or Moby Dick, you wouldn't stare at me like I am stupid when I tell you this. Oceans are frightening. They are big. Bigger than most people can imagine. And you can't see the bottom, or even whatever is 5 feet below you ready to gobble you up. And once you are in the ocean, you are at a disadvantage since everything else in there can breathe under water and has fins (and teeth or worse: baileen).

So we understand that the ocean is frightening. Now imagine yourself on a boat in the middle of the ocean. And imagine the whale, that, unknowing, comes up from under your boat, nocking it over and spilling you into the cean which we all know is frightening. and then, as it swims away, it thwacks you with its tail which knocks you out and cuts your pinky which attracts killer sharks. And that's the good scenario. The bad is that the whale is intelligent and evil. It swims around your boat to build suspense and then it breaches across your one salvation and swallows you to be slowly suffocated and digested over the next several weeks.

Yeah. Scary stuff.

be safe.
Steven M. E.

Summer Blues (or Reds, to be more specific)

2005-05-18T17:30:00.000-07:00

Sun Burns must be Satan's favorite ailments.
You go outside to have a nice swim in the pool--you bring your boom box and turn on the radio. You dry off leisurely in the sun, which feels so warm and comforting on your back. Then, 3 hours later, your shoulder is red and radiating more heat that a 100W light bulb...
Now you might say something like, "For shame, Steven. If only you had listened to your mother and put on sun screen 30 minutes prior to going out!"
BUT I DID!!!
And that is the worst of it. I put it all over my body, but for a fundamentally unreachable swath of skin on my shoulder blade that, before two days ago was bright red against the nice, healthy, skin-cancer free white of my back.
But it doesn't end there. Oh no. I had to go and try to fix things.
So what do I do? I put sun screen on my red patch and head outside. I time my progress, even, but when I go in for a break, there is no change. Little do I know that the affliction does not show its presence until hours after the damage is done. So I go out again. I spend some time in the pool, and with a book. I really do enjoy myself. Until I go inside to see my back in the mirror.
Instead of a red shape on my back, I now have a deep, inhumanly red back with the bold, white outline of my previous tan. Not to mention several other white spots where I was careless with the sunscreen.
This is all leading up to my swim party on Saturday which I will probably have to spend with my shirt on so as not to be thwarted by the Ultraviolet rays of Satan again.
Woe is me.

Catharsis and Hot Chocolate

2005-04-01T11:19:00.000-08:00

So I started writing again.
A step back.
I started writing in 6th grade, in Mrs. Gillis-Worthen's class. She had us write in journals for 5 minutes a day. I don't know what happened to it, but I lost my journal a long time ago, and I have missed it ever since. How interesting would it be to hear what I was thinking about when I was 11 or 12? Since then, I have intended to begin writing again several times, and in this effort, I have collected several journals. However, my entries are sparse and far between. However, I have decided to write again in an act of catharsis (mostly since there was no way I could bring my paints to Vandy). I have been pretty good about it too. The rules are at least 5 minutes a day, and no crossing out words. It should be an interesting experiment. The one thing is, I am disappointed in the restrictions that I have put on myself since I was 12. I don't exactly remember what I wrote, but I know that I didn't stop because I thought it was stupid. I would write the stupidest poems or short short stories without worrying what the teacher would think. And now that I am the only one reading my journal, I still can't let myself be stupid or irrationally creative. Hopefully, this will turn around with work, but the thing is, I used to pride myself on my creativity. Maybe school and work and being older has just sucked all of the life out of my right brain. Who knows.

It is raining. Beautifully. I just got out of class, and I have another in 30 minutes. I have hot chocolate and my computer in a dark room, and all I can hear is the rain outside and the quiet morning voices of my hallmates.

My Grandmother and I had a conversation the other day. She had just put her hand in her coat pocket to find a misplaced $20 bill. She called it a "sleeper." "That's when you find something important that you had forgotten about." I found my watch over spring break. That was a sleeper. My airline luggage came in. That was a sleeper. Sleepers are almost like time capsules. The last time I had seen my watch, it was Senior prom. I took Megan. It brought me right back to nearly 10 months ago (amazing that it hasn't even been a year yet, but things have changed so much). When I got my luggage, I remembered the time before we left. Everyone was so excited to go, and I had packed all my best clothes in anticipation. The trip had been a disappointment, but when I opened my long-lost suitcase, I remembered only the time before. The time of anticipation. A week after I got back to school from Spring break, I had to take out the garbage, which would seem routine, I know. But inside, were relics from when Mom was alive and everything in my life was going fine, well, finer than it is now, anyway. Under the many Kleenex from a recent cold and many tears were copies of old papers that had been edited in red, invitations to different parties or organizations, normal school stuff. Likewise, when I went to take my clothes to the dry-cleaners, I dug up my tux pants and shirt, which I wore the weekend before Mom died. It is interesting how one event can mark a life, like a little signpost. Now, it seems like everything is either before Mom or after. Year 0 AM. I don't mean to dwell, but really, I think mine is an interesting (though heart wrenching) position to be in. And I am not going to just ignore the fact.

I certainly try to stay away from the female teenage angst vibe, and I hope I am not depressing (though the subject may not be the lightest in the world.) But like the title states, it's the catharsis, stupid. This is basically how it works. If I had something clever and interesting to put here (rather than a) B&M'ing about whatever the latest drama is or b) boring you with trivial stupid details about what party I went to last night (basically none) or who I am taking to formal (Natalia)) then I would do so, and perhaps I will make it my goal to do so next post. But that means I will have to begin thinking cleverly again, and I am afraid school has sucked all of my cleverness out of me.

Final note. There is a point when you realize that when something happens to you, no matter how trivial, you can't be the same person as you always were. I guess this applies to my earlier comment about creativity. Circumstances change you, and you might be able to change yourself back by effort, but really, you will never be the same, never be pure again. None of us can go back to high school, Chris can't go back and say he has never loved before, I can't go back and say that I wasn't affected by Mom's death. But here I am reading about Buddhism in class, the main principle of which is the fact that you CAN go back. You can separate yourself from the world and let go of all of the suffering and the happiness in your life and achieve nirvana.

"Touched now by ease and now by misery,
The wise manifest no high and low"

And here I think: I know that I can never go back to the way I was, I can never be "pure" again. But I could never live without being affected by life. I would let myself be ravaged by countless years of suffering even for the privilege to retain the memories I have with my family and friends. The truth is, though you can never be the same, and you may be a little more broken and a little more hard and a little less idealistic, these are the consequences of life. People change, for better or for worse, and unless you live in a monastery in Tibet, you are glad to change, because while some change is bad, other change is good, and it is priceless.

So there is my cliché rambling. But the truth is, no matter how many times I had heard that message, I never really took it in until I discovered it for myself. So thank you Buddha, you are indeed the wise one.

OK, last thing. I have been criticizing the Buddha this whole time, but he actually does have something meaningful to say:

"Let one not associate
With low persons, bad friends.
But let one associate
With noble persons, worthy friends."
- The Dhammapada, the Buddha

Good friends, peace and much love,

Steven M. E.

Update, not downdate

2005-03-08T14:03:00.000-08:00

So here's what has been going on with me for the past very long span of time.
1) School is crazy, especially after missing a week, but hopefully I can catch up by the time Spring break is over.
2) Oh yeah! I am on spring break! I have so much work I should be doing, but instead I am updating this.
3) Lambda Chi Alpha is GREAT! I was elected Secretary, so I get to stay in the house next year (only officers stay in the houses). Woo Hoo!
4) Did I say school is crazy?
5) All of my friends at Vandy are fantastic! They are so supportive and great.

That's all I know.

Steven M. E.

Because I think nothing gets cleared up properly

2005-03-08T12:48:00.000-08:00

OK. Three or four weeks ago, everyone knows that Chris's girlfriend Sara (or Sarah or whatever it isn't important) broke up with him. Now there are all sorts of rumors about why this and did you know that, and I really don't care. Now, know that Chris was dumped by the love of his life. And also know that Chris found out that he had been dumped three days later, and not from Sara. His response to this was not accusatory, but thoughtful. He reacted in a very adult manner (unlike some of Chris's and Sara's friends, though the commentary was quite entertaining, and as for my own contribution, I found it liberating to degrade the girlfriend's writing style (yes, I know, *gasp*, way below the belt). ) The one flaw in Chris's actions is him not discussing his greivances with Sara directly, but there were indeed stories about unanswered phone calls that may explain this. I can only hope that he explored this pathway of communication completely before bringing his arument into the public forum. In this case, I believe his public expression was quite appropriate, since this was apparently the only way he could bring his views to the table and finally come to a resolution with Sara. SO. After the verbal abuse and a measured amount of whiny dramatic reactionary statements, everything has been worked out. The story has come to a close and we all move on.

A very wise woman once asked a group of teenagers, "What is the most important thing in a relationship?" Answers included trust, love, caring, dedication, and other amiguous emtional whatever. The most important thing in a relationship is COMMUNICATION. Love is unimportant in a relationship if you do not communicate that love. So, with this in mind, I would like to come to my point: Chris isn't stupid. He understands English. He can carry on a conversation. He would understand what Sara meant if she had said, "Chris, I do not want to continue in this relationship. I have been with you for a year, and I have decided that I would like to see other people (or I cannot continue having a relationship with you while you are in Norman and I am in Edmond... or I do not want to grow up, marry you, and have to be shadowed by your brilliance.... or I realized that you are weird and you smell funny... whatever drove her to break it off). So since Chris obviously did not catch this drift, one can assume that indeed Sara did not say these words or anything so obvious. So after a not-so-explicit exchange, Chris is dumbfounded when Sara hangs up on him and he learns from a third source that his strong, meaningul relationship ended last weekend.

So, people. The lesson:

1) Have enough confidence in yourself and respect for others to say what you mean in the most explicit terms possible.
This step is preemptive. If you follow this, there is no muddle, no misunderstanding, and *hopefully* no conflict. This does not mean you have to be harsh, but just don't be vague. "Your ideas are profound, but your grammar is terrible. Let me help you. First, "r u goin to da stor" should be "Are you going to the store?"" See that wasn't so painful, at least not as bad as "Well, there are some good things and some bad things, and overall it sucks." If there is a breakdown in this step, then a conflict arises, and it is time to read on to step 2.

2) (And I think Chris demonstrated this nicely) Do what needs to be done to understand the problem.
Ignoring it until it goes away may be effective, but it isn't very productive. The next time the situation comes up, you will know what to or what not to do. Also, it will be better for our emotional health if such a thing exists. So when you need to resolve a problem, do what Chris did. First, go to the source, the person you have a greivance against. If that doesn't work, go to someone close to the source and attempt to understand their side of things. Now, the tricky part comes if there can be no communication between sides. In this case, bring the question to a group of friends. Have your own little intervention, and make sure to let everyone know that you are looking for a resolution, not a war. Chris demonstrated this admirably, though some things got quite out of hand with entertainging results.

3) Resolving the situation:
Once you understand the problem, you have to decide whether you were at fault and need to apologize. Unless you are particularly adept at removing yourself from a situation and judging fairly, this step will take some deep thought. Talk to a trusted friend. If you find that you aren't at fault, then the decision to apologize is up to you. If you don't mind sacrificing your integrity in exchangge for a resolution, then go ahead. Otherwise, good luck convincing the other party that in fact, only they were in the wrong. Haha. If you were wrong, suck it up, and say sorry. Scratch that. Say, "I apologise will you forgive me." And don't apologise on the contingent that they apologise as well. If they don't think they were wrong, suck it up, confess you were wrong, and just know that you are better than they are. Hopefully, there is understanding to be found all around.

4) Live on.
So you either made up, you are bitter enemies, or you have agreed to disagree. Good for you. You have a resolution. I never said it would be a great one. The key is, you know where you stand, and perhaps something will come into the picture in the future that changes that, but for now, stop worrying about it. There is not much more to do. Play it cool, and stay in school.

So. That might not be the best advice in the world, but that is what I believe and live by. And I am glad to have an excuse to promote better understanding in the world.

So good luck, hang loose, peace out,

Steven M. E.

The post that needs to be posted

2005-03-08T12:40:00.000-08:00

I actually wrote this two weeks ago, but I didn't get around to posting till now.
Two weeks ago, Saturday at 8pm, my mom passed from this life into the next. I know that this may come as a surprise, because I do not mention Mom's illness very often, and the last 6 months, she has had many ups and downs, so I never thought it necessary to update you every time something changed.

Mom's story is long, and it is documented in another post somewhere in the archives, but this is the story about the end of her beautiful life. Two Fridays ago, I received a call from Mom. She was driving home from the hospital. The last two nights, she was receiving blood and having tests performed. When she was checked in, she was tired and unintelligible, all due to the lack of platelets and fresh blood cells in her blood stream. While she was in the hospital, she had a CT scan of her body which showed that the cancer had grown despite the latest round of chemotherapy. It seemed that the chemo was killing her blood and her body without affecting the cancer. She and the doctor decided to quit treatment and let the disease run its course while she spent the rest of her life in comfort, without the effects of chemo. Mom's voice was strong and joking, and I never expected the end to come so soon after I said I love you and hung up the phone.

Last Tuesday, the disease began to take hold, and Mom became more tired. Thursday, Dad called and asked if I would like to come home to see her, stating her worsened condition and the fact that he had called hospice in to care or her. I agreed. Friday evening, I spent some time with Mom. By that time, she was unresponsive, but she could see and hear me. Saturday, I was able to spend more time with her and family and friends. That evening, her breathing became labored, and the nurse told us that the end was near. Dad, Robert and I were able to say goodbye, and we prayed together. Mom's sister and her family as well as my grandparents were also able to say goodbye and pray with us. Not long after that, Mom took her last breath and was welcomed into heaven.

This has been one of the hardest weeks in my life. I do not know what I would do without my family and my friends. I thank everyone for their prayers and support, through Mom's illness, and now for my family. I know that I will need some time to process by myself, but I also know that whenever I am ready, you will be there with open arms and an open ear.

There are many things to think about when you lose someone you love. Mom truly believed that she would live for 30 more years, and so did most everybody that knew her. As a result, she left many things undone. She was planning a vacation for our family, she intended to go back to school and teach math, she was going to finish organizing her photo albums, and she was going to guide Robert through high school. But she also accomplished more than most do in a single lifetime. This past 10 years, she was able to give her time to the community, through the YMCA, the YWCA, the United Way, and our Church. She loved God, and she brought a great many people closer to Him through her story and her example. She helped me make the most important decision of my life (going to Vandy), and she was able to show Robert his true potential, empowering him to do his best. One friend said that if healthy people could live their lives with the same conviction and spirit that Mom had every day, then the world would be a better place, and I believe her. Before this summer, few people knew that Mom was ill, despite the fact that her last 4 years were spent with tumors throughout her liver.

This event has taught me how precious this last 10 years has been, and how blessed my family has been. Mom's fight has been long, and sometimes painful, but throughout it all, she remained optimistic, courageous, intelligent, and as strong willed as ever. This is the way I will always remember her. I know that few of you really had a chance to visit with my mother, but she was my best friend, my protector, my guide, and my foundation. But I will not say that I do not know what I will do without her. I know that I will do what I have to do—what I have always done, and what Mom has taught me to do—persevere.

Mom and I spent a lot of time together this past year, searching for colleges, and in past years on trips to Disneyworld and Hawaii. However, the moments I remember most vividly are the times spent in front of the TV watching Wheel of Fortune, or cracking jokes during family dinners. Mom was always smiling and laughing, with a spirit as vibrant as her many fuchsia Mickey shirts. This is how I will always remember her.

I am not usually one to do this, but I would like to share some things that helped me through this difficult time these past couple days.

These verses have been hanging on our wall for many years, but God has presented them to me anew.

11For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD , "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you," declares the LORD , "and will bring you back from captivity. [b] I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD , "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile."
Jeremiah 29: 11-14

Mom has found God, and he has brought her to him.

4Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things. 9Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me–put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.
Philippians 4:4-9

Mom is now at peace—God's peace that transcends all understanding.

The night Mom left us, our pastor came and told us the beginning of the story of Job. After losing all of his property, servants, and family, Job told his servant:
"Naked I came from my mother's womb,
and naked I will depart. [c]
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
may the name of the LORD be praised."
Job 1:21

The people die just as people are born, and God is to be blessed for the life that we have shared and the lives that He creates.

The last three verses of Amazing Grace by John Newton:
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,And mortal life shall cease,I shall possess, within the veil,A life of joy and peace.
The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,The sun forbear to shine;But God, Who called me here below,Shall be forever mine.
When we’ve been there ten thousand years,Bright shining as the sun,We’ve no less days to sing God’s praiseThan when we’d first begun.

A story from hospice:
Gone from My SightI am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my sidespreads her white sails to the morning breeze andstarts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beautyand strength. I stand and watch her until at lengthshe hangs like a speck of white cloud just wherethe sea and sky come to mingle with each other.Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!""Gone where?"Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large inmast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side andshe is just as able to bear her load of living freight to herdestined port.Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at themoment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voicesready to take up the glad shout: "Here she comes!"And that is dying.

And a story that we learned in French which Mme. Tippin helped me remember.
There was a mother who had a son, and as she roked him in her arms, she said:
Je t'aimerai toujours,
La nuit comme les jours,
et tant que je vivrai,
Tu sera ma bebe.

which means:
I'll love you forever
The night like the day
and as long as you I live
You will be my baby.

Then, as the son grew up, the mother would sneak into his room, put her hand on his head, and repeat the rhyme.
When the son moved away, the mother would awaken at night, and drive to her son's house, kneel by his bed, and again say these words.
One day, when the mother was very old, and she could not go to see her son, he came to her, sat by her bed, and said,

Je t'aimerai toujours,
La nuit comme les jours,
et tant que je vivrai,
Ton bebe je serai

I'll love you forever,
The night like the day,
And as ling as I live,
I will be your baby.

Thanks guys for all of your support, cards, hugs, and understanding. I love you all and I am lucky to have friends like you.

Sincerely,

Steven M. E.

2005-01-27T11:05:00.000-08:00

I should not be doing this. I have so much work to do (but less work than I have had all the rest of this week, incedentally). The past two days, I slept through my alarm. Don't worry. I made it to class (albeit without a shower). Anyway. Just thought I should update. I really haven't gained much insight into life and the workings of the world since I got back (indeed, I have been too immersed in physics and differential equtions to think about much else). I have quite a semester ahead of me, with joining Lambda Chi Alpha (yeah, I am joining a fraternity! Who woulda thunk) and taking these seemingly impossible courses, but hey, at least at the end of the day, I can say I did my best and that I did not waste all of my time. So other than all that, I think this semester is going to RULE. My classes are OK and all. Maybe next time, I will have something more cerebral or introspective, but for now, this is all I can muster.

Much Love and Good Will,

Steven

In the OKC Airport

2005-01-13T20:19:00.000-08:00

Sorry, those last two posts were old drafts that I just didn't post for some reason. The are out of order, like it matters. Miss you guys already.

It is difficult to have two homes. One is constantly away from something. Really, it isn’t healthy. I am sure that this is one of the main reasons the products of tumultuous childhoods are dysfunction and depression. I fly from Nashville to Oklahoma, two places that aren’t so different at all, aside from a different assortment of friends and/or family, and I feel like I am leaving something behind each way. There is something comforting and hopeful about going to a place or a person, but either way I fly, I have an irresistible tendency to feel pulled away. However, I know that after one day in my pillow-soft bed with my treasured lucky bamboo and my pink walls that continue to suffocate under a select set of posters and post cards, I will be right as rain, unwilling to leave my second home as I am my first.

I have no resolutions this year, besides being a better person and whatnot, which is what I always want to be, despite the season. I hope I can get more involved in school and extracurriculars and finally be able to talk to Krystal Kohler without feeling like a complete slacker.

Sincerely,

Steven

Two Lessons over the Holiday

2004-12-25T13:44:00.000-08:00

So. I learn things even outside of school. First. It is very difficult to be humble when you have parents about. I got my grades back, and when we went to Ponca for Christmas, Mom began nearly every conversation with, "Steven got his grades back. Tell him what you got, honey." I mean, I can take it for Grandma and Grandpa, but really, we don't need to have me stand up on the dinner table in front of my second cousin. Thankfully Robert was there to ease the akwardness with, "Yeah, he got two B's." Leaving me a chance to escape for the next room. (Or at least providing an opportunity to give valid information in the form of a joking correction rather than a blunt, "Look at me, I dance and sing as well" self-gratifying statement.) Thank God for my Aunt, who, being my favorite, leaned over after one of these unpleasant (for me, anyway) announcements and said, "To tell you the truth, I wouldn't accept anything less." Thanks for dimming the spotlight Aunt Julie. The stage gets awfully warm sometimes.

I must say, however, that I really do get quite a bit of gratification out of doing well. There is an argument for inflating grades that states that good students will always challenge themselves whether or not they can make a good grade in the class while poor students will remain unmotivated whether or not they can make a good grade. However, I, for one, respond best to positive reinforcement. Without something showing me that I have done well, I tend to lose interest and become unmotivated. I don't need someone to pat me on the back every day and I certainly hope that I am not the person who goes around looking for validation, but periodic appreciation most certainly gives me that extra kick to make me push the limit the next time around. Interstingly, though, negative reinforcement is quite different. My grade in Physics was wreaking havoc on my stress-o-meter this year as it went from 87 to 93 to 70 (plus 20 curve points) over the course of three tests. Each time I got a low grade, I became more convinced that I wasn't cut out for physics, and that there was little I could do about it, however, my mind said that surely with more practice, I could get better, and I was encouraged to study more (though not to attend class). When my grade was high, I was encouraged to go to class, but to study merely at the same rate. The thing that changed was my level of enthusiasm for the subject, not my amount of cram-time. This would be such an interesting behavioral science project.

Merry Christmas

2004-12-25T13:33:00.000-08:00

Wow! I have apparently been too busy for any of this fun internet stuff! (Quick check...Last update: Nov. 1o, then pre-break tests and parties, Thanksgiving, appendicitis, FINALS, Christmas) Yep. Waaaayy too busy. But now that I have partaken of Christmas Brunch, and all five of my presents have been unwrapped, (the gold star of which being a set of watches from Fossil and a wad of Christmas Cash) I am in quite a state of mind to give this a quick go. I certainly hope your respective Christmasses are Merry and Bright, and I am sorry I will not be there to celebrate the New Year with you. (Actually, due to the fact that I only have coverage in the US, I will be completely incommunicado for the next week as I cruise the western Carribbean, so I won't even be able to count down via telephone). I hope this season renews the spirit of humanity, giving, and forgiving in each of your hearts, and I pray that the coming year will bring fullness and joy into your lives.

PS to Comic, I just read your comment. I could never forget you guys (not even Chr-- uh, whats-his-name). Sorry Blogger was a bother.

Compellation is not the noun form of to compel.

2004-11-03T20:26:00.000-08:00

I just found out the amazing organization of the avant-garde blogging tool, Xanga. It seems as though everyone is Xangaing. I feel bad for livejournal. But I left too. But for the ultra cool blog tool, Blogger (Yay for Blogger!)

Anyway, browsing through the Santa Fe Xangas. It's really just depressing. Lots of people angry, sad, whatever. I try not to be too angry/sad though introspection and analysis is usually not the most uplifting of topics. Perhaps this is a good thing, though. Else people would just be downers in real life. And nobody wants that. And before you jump in and say that you would rather your friends be sincere than pseudo-happy, (as I would were I reading and not writing this entry) then you really do not understand how negative some people are. I had a long discussion about this the other day with Rod. He said that he is beginning to realize that the reason that he had issues with me was the fact that I do not fake feelings. People really aren't comfortable if you let on that you aren't interested in going out or talking or if you just feel a little off. Why, though? Why is it so hard to understand that everyone is not at the same level as you are? I propose that it is a condition of humanity. If you are in one mindstate, you assume that others are as well. Why wouldn't they be? But then there are these people who feel that they have to change around to be at the level that they are expected to be at, either by their friends or society. I cannot imagine. It must be horribly exhausting. I mean, the emotional strain. Or else, is it true that if you can convince others of something, you can convince yourself as well? "Whenever I feel afraid, I whistle a happy tune" mindset. But back to the question at hand. What is better, honesty, or , to put it in the kindest terms possible (my own tendency being towards honesty) an efeeort towards likeability? I suppose it depends. And there are gives and takes on both sides. I, for one, despise small talk, and I have never believed in transparent friendships. These humans are such interesting people. I would go into psycology if I was not fundamentally opposed to it.

I always have these thoughts about other people, as everyone does, about what would be the right choice (my own definition of right, mind you) in a certain situation. But at that instant I remind myself, I don't know what is going on in their head or in their lives. It is like when you see someone on an overly dramatic tv show or a chick flick, and you know what is going to happen and what the characters need to do to avoid it, but inevitably, they do the opposite. BUT whenever YOU get into a similar situation, it is so much harder to judge the correct approach. Sometimes, I can catch myself, but I am sure that I have fallen vistim to the same lack of objectivity in my life. This leads to my idea about psychology. The question is, does anyone have the right to presume to know what is going on inside another's head? In my dealings, I have consistently stayed with "no," though here, I have taken up analysis of my own thoughts. In my mind, it is an extreme form of arrogance to presume to know the drives behind another human being. Either that, or it is a pitiful, protective, reflex that allows one to have a sense of superiority over another. But enter the views experessed in the former part of this paragraph. Is it not arrogance, but a willingness to help with a third party view that drives these people? Perhaps both, though I cannot see how this sort of armchair psychology can be defended as a truly objective analysis. According to the tenents of behaviorism, the only variables that can be justifiably analyzed are physical realities, not mental goings-on.

The facts about being a realist

2004-10-25T19:01:00.000-07:00

**I make no apologies for the following rant. If you are reading this, you are bored enough to take it.**

As a realist, you don't always get to do what you dream. You learn how to compromise early on. You realize that there is no ideal, but merely a best option out of many. The worst is when you are both a dreamer and a realist. That's what everyone tells you to be, right? "Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars..." That one makes me ill. Kipling puts it in less juvenile (and less nauseating) terms: "If you can dream---and not make dreams your master." But it all seems to amount to the same thing. Eventually, you will have to give up some dream. (I know that I am starting to sound melodramatic, like a teenage girl on MTV, but hear me out). Rationally, that is what all this about dreams comes down to. (See, now I'm even ending sentences with infinitives.) It's a cop-out really. The people in charge don't want to say directly that there is something that you are not nor will ever be able to do, so instead they say that, "oh, well, you have to keep your feet on the ground!" Like it's a good thing. Or they might not even be saying that. One of the most important things that anyone had ever said to me was by Mr. Roberts in seventh grade. If you know Mr. Roberts, he isn't very serious, but this was the day he had conferences with the students about their grades or something, and he sat in the hall and wore his glasses, and when it was my turn, I sat down and he smiled and said, "Steven, you can do anything you want to do." Coming from someone who almost never said anything personal and serious at the same time, that meant a lot. But even me, who has been validated by none other than Mr. Roberts, middle school grography teacher, has been swayed by circumstance. And I know that some of you have, too. And now I am wondering whether it is best to play the game intelligently, or whether it is better to be intuitive. If you play intelligently, you are sure to come out ahead. But is coming out ahead the most important thing? The thing that brought this all on was Everwoood (I know, I shouldn't let family TV shows that are meant to provide background noise for calculus affect my world view, but they were discussing college applications, which, you all know, were a big part of my life for a time.) And on Everwood, the dad told his son to close his eyes and imagine himself in four years, happy. I followed along, pretending it was last year, and I realized, that this was not where I would have imagined myself (Don't worry, Megan and any of my other friends who are prone to worry on my behalf. This all turns out good in the end.) In fact, none of the places on my list matched (the closest would be Wash. U.). I wanted to be somewhere I would really be challenged, where people went to coffee shops and discussed philosophy, and in a big city, or else in some well-recognised countryside with an antiquated, sleepy, but colorful little town along the border. However, colleges in big, northeastern cities do not give hefty scholarships based on Mr. Robert's reccomandation (or Mrs. Wilson's and Mrs. Hartman's and Mrs. Blackwood's, for that matter). And Vanderbilt, with its drinking games, its bright, but not absurdly so, student body, and its respected, yet unspiring faculty, does. And so I rationalized, as I did when I decided not to waste the time on the Harvards and the Columbias, that since I was going to do graduate work anyway, it would be folly to spend the clams for the Ivy League. I can make do at the "Harvard of the South." And as I write this, I begin to see my point. And I even wonder why I was compelled to write this in the first place. But now that it is written, I suppose I should follow through to a conclusion. This was, indeed, the best choice of all the options given. Even if the dreamer in me continues to think that I have compromised my dream. But, not to fear, there is a brighter way of looking at my situation. What I have believed, and what I continue to believe, is that there is a reason, that I could not afford Harvard. And there is also a reason that Vanderbilt extended this offer to me, drawing me away from a future at OU. I believe that God (or fate, or just blind luck) made this opportunity. I have net people here that I would not have met anywhere else. I will have experience here that could not be duplicated at another school. And I cannot even tell you what those are yet, but I believe that they are here for me. And, as a dreamer, I hope to experience every one, and as a realist, I know that between studying and clubs and sleep and a certain set of beliefs that may be considered by some as prohibitive to this goal, that I will not. But in my heart, I believe that what will happen to me in four years will be exactly what is meant to happen. For better or for worse. And I just have to have faith that what I am doing at every moment, I am doing for a reason, and therefore, I should do it to the best of my ability, just as I always have.

Peace. Love. And good night.

Steven M. E.

A new resolve

2004-10-25T17:40:00.000-07:00

Well, it has been quite a while since I said I would be upping my activities quota. Since then I have been aquained with the deadly sin known as Sloth. Beware, it's a tricky one. It starts with one nap, then it's another, then a weekend of laziness, then the apathy creeps into your study time, and the non-required homework gets pushed back another day. Heck, even me writing this is an attempt to procrastinate until tomorrow.

But today. Yes, today, I went without a nap (albeit with the help of a very good cuppa joe). And what's more, most of my wakefulness was actually spent on doing work. This is very very good. I congradulate myself. Here, the challenge, get through the whole week, no naps, and being productive from the time my first class starts until 7pm, with the exception of mealtimes. I calculate this to be an approximate 40 hour work week.

What brings this about, you ask? Well, those of you on-line this weekend know that in lieu of my usual heavy party rounds, I stayed in, facinated by my computer screen. And I slept. How did I sleep! I took a 6 hour nap on Friday, a 4 hour nap Saturday, and two 3 hour naps Sunday. I feel a mix of pride and disgust. But now it is a new Steven. I am going to be the model of efficiency and alertness. I will ace my two tests tomorrow, find a subjects for my Engineering projects (yes, two) and generally kick hiney in a ramp-up to Halloween and my B-day.

This post was more for my own good. I have heard that goals like this usually work best if you tell someone.

Well, anyway, wish me luck, and I care for all of you (unless I don't like you, and in that case you shouldn't be reading this (you know who you are!)).

With best wishes and great love,

Steven M. E.

Ugh. A honey roasted peanut in a bowl of cashews.

2004-10-14T20:55:00.000-07:00

Okay. I have an issue.

Everybody on the entire face of the planet apparently thinks that college is an astounding transition to which innocent, naive high school students must adjust to with the nurturing guidance of college officials, parents, and friends.

What the hell is what I say.
Really, is college that different?

Article I: Independence.
Now, I must say that this being far far away thing is absolutely beautiful. But an adjustment? No. I have been brushing my own teeth and putting on my own clothes since grade school. Bedtime limitations have been removed since sixth grade, and I have been budgeting my own time and doing my own homework since middle school. I have woken myself up, made my own breakfast, and been able to wash my own clothes for many, many years.
What in heaven or on Earth must I adjust to? The freedom from the strict scrutiny of my parents? In my opinion, if our parents were the alpha and omega of your every decision in high school, they will be in College, and if they trsted you to be responsible and make your own decisionsin high school, they will in college. Mine were in the latter category.
Oh, but woe is me. I have forgotten a very important talking point. The car. MY car. The friggin symbol of teenage independece. How I miss thee and how you stalled with a quarter tank of gas and how your seatbelts always got tangled and how you made indescribable sounds during the winter. The loss of my car was BIG. I would say the driver's licence is a bigger adjustment than college any day. With a liscence, so many things become possible, from friday dnners out to road trips to the simple pleasure of getting away for an hour. This is one adjustment I am still not quite over. But interestingly enough, this is an adjustment to the LOSS of independence. Peculiar, eh?

Article 2: The Seperation
So what. I spent most of my time at home doing homework and waching TV anyway. I miss dinner out, but I am glad to be free of family meals (especially the clean-up). I talk to my parents through e-mail or on the phone to check in or when something important happens. I miss my dogs. That's one I didn't think about. They can't use the phone, so it's hard to interact with them. But everone else, well, not so much. I love them, but I don't miss them. The same goes for my friends, a good many of which, I have kept contact with online. Again, I miss dinner out. Meal plans box me into the walls of the campus come lunch or dinner. And this is living 10 hours away. I really don't understand homesickness from 45 minutes away (not that I am criticizing, I just can't comprehend it).

Article 3: The Dorm
I dont get what the big deal is. The community bathroom is comfortable. There has never been a big problem with space or with my hallmates. The dorm doesn't affect my life more than giving me friends to eat lunch and go to class with. Maybe go out Friday and Saturday night. Since I am not accustmed to walking around naked, none of my habits have changed. Now, of course, I am privilaged to live in a single, and perhaps this is the BIG adjustment that I have not had to make that serves as the divider between me and every one of my friends when it comes to the adjustment issue.

Article 4: The Classes
First off, this is Vanderblt. Ii really expected more, to tell you the truth. I would love to say that I am being challenged and pushed tomy limit and I am learning more than I ever did in high school. But either my high school courses prepared me so well for college that I don't notice a difference (which is ENTIRELY pssible), or the fact is, college courses really aren't as difficult as they're cracked up to be. I tend to side with the former explanation, since my high school experience was awesome, and I suppose if you went through "regular" courses, your perception of college would be different (however, as far as I know, my friends all had challenging high school careers). Not that I haven't had ome tough times. Engineering is especially taxing due to the fact that the material is all completely new, but really, the amount of brainpower is comparable. But, lest we forget, the college system is completely different. No more going to 6 classes a day. This simply means you A) Are actually using class time to learn at a faster rate or b) Are learning at the same rate, but covering less material. Either way, I get 3 credit hours, though I prefer the former, since it means that my time is not wasted, as was the case in some high school classes. So yes. The 2 class a day setup is a difference, but in my assesment, it is quite stisfactory, and the adjustment took a total of one week as I found my new classes.

Article 5: The People.
I don't make frineds in a few weeks. I moved in fourth grade and had a different set of friends every year of middle school. Freshman year, it took until November before I truly became friends with anyone at Santa Fe. Then, I kept those friends plus a few more for the next four years. Everyone at my 14th birthday party was invited to my 18th. Weird, huh? A three year old could count the number of people I considered true friends during high school. This, some may say, is an adjustment. But this is not particular to college. This is something that is true for everyone, everywhere. Making friends and becoming comfortable is an adjustment that I have had to make many times before, so perhaps I understand the situation a little more than someone who stayed in the same place for the past 12 years, but nevertheless, I suppose that this needs factor into the adjustment equation. But I think this adjustment is ongoing. No matter if you are a social diva or the dirty harmonica player on the street corner. As I put it today in a conversation with Rod, whether your mission is to climb to the top of the social ladder or if ou are content standing on the ground, far away from even a kitchen stool.
A subcategory of people, I guess, is the clubs. The last blog was on being a joiner, so you know my opinion on these. But what I have realizedsince then, is that college clubs have free reign. They can have a meeting at 3 in the afternoon thursday or 10 at night Sunday. No time is sacred, and it is not a ghastly intrusion on your time if there is an activity Saturday morning. No time is sacred. The only club in high school that I would grant weekend time to was NHS. I had to adjust to the fact that the writing society meets at dinner time and AiChE meets Sunday afternoon.

So there you have it. College is just as everone described it. But I am still in search of the big adjustment. If you would, could ou point me in the general direction. Otherwise, I will be keeping an eye out, and I will tell you if I find it.

Sincerely,

Steven M. E.

Yay for being a joiner

2004-10-10T01:56:00.000-07:00

Okay. Despite the fact that in high school I was in more clubs than a two year old can count, I have never considered myself a joiner. But it has been almost nine weeks (nine weeks! Wow!) And I have realized that the time has come to make some changes.

The first part of the year, I was solely involved with Versus magazine. Then, I picked up ceramics, The Review, and the writing society. Now, I have joined a swing club, V-SLAM (anime), and hopefully a couple of volunteer organizations. I am also trying to be culturally aware. I spent el dia de la rasa salsa dancing, and this evening, I went to a Greek tragedy translated by an Iris woman. Can you say multicultural? Can you say overextended? A two year old couldn't. However, I have serious doubts about the ultimate joiner activity. I have serious reservations about joining a frat. But I have another 4 weeks yet before that decision becomes imminent.

But I have found that I need to be at least somewhat extended. I am of the constitution that if there is not something to do, then I will do nothing. It sounds logical, but trust me, it merely results in many hours wasted in bed or in front of the computer.

On a tangent, Ihave rediscovered coffee. It is what helped me through last Thursday. The first Thursday I have had at Vanderbilt on which i did not take a nap. That was the impetus for my new philosophy and outlook. The fact that I could manage without my three hour siesta. I am continually amazed at this wonderful black substance. I adore you, coffee.

Sincerely,

Steven M. E.

I am obviously too busy for my friends.

2004-10-08T19:32:00.000-07:00

I don't know if anyone actually reads this, but I feel bad that I haven't posted recently, anyhow. So. Since the picture tour, a lot has happened (but only one of my friends likes me enough to take five minutes to join the facebook.)

I am so happy here. There are so many parties (not that I have time to go to all of them with all of the work I have.) It has been nine weeks, and I am getting very comfortable. My engineering class shifts to its second module (It is a class in three parts, or modules) next monday, so it is like I have completed my first college class. I filled out the instructor evaluation and everything! And I made an A (which is a 93 and up here ugh!)

I am home (my former home, at least)! I am stoked. I really want to see all of you and find out about everything that has been going on and so forth.

There is so much to say. I have a lot of journal writing to do this weekend.

But now I have a concert.

Ciao!

Steven M. E.

ATTENTION!!! Thefacebook | Welcome to Thefacebook!

2004-09-19T11:03:00.000-07:00

Thefacebook | Welcome to Thefacebook!

Anyone going to OU...Join The Face Book. It's swell!

2004-09-10T14:41:00.000-07:00

And what's more appropriate to end with than the bell tower again? I hope you have enjoyed the ride and have more of an understanding of the campus. Just FYI. It's been one day and I love this journal. Best just to bookmark this page. I'll sleep on it, but everyone knows that just means I'm pretending to actually consider the decision. In actuality, I will be sleeping like normal. Devoid of thought. Until nest time!

2004-09-10T14:34:00.002-07:00

The art gallery.

2004-09-10T14:34:00.001-07:00

A better place for eats (and on the meal plan!)

2004-09-10T14:34:00.000-07:00

For eats.

2004-09-10T14:33:00.002-07:00

again.

2004-09-10T14:33:00.001-07:00

The bell tower, again (It is the signature building after all)

2004-09-10T14:33:00.000-07:00

here.

2004-09-10T14:32:00.003-07:00

here

2004-09-10T14:32:00.002-07:00

or here.

2004-09-10T14:32:00.001-07:00

Like on this tree.

2004-09-10T14:32:00.000-07:00

A squirrel. I actually took lots of squirrel pictures, but this is representative of the rest. Just imagine the one squirrel with different backgrounds. If you get really creative, you can print him, cut him out, and tape him on the other pictures.

2004-09-10T14:30:00.000-07:00

The library with the Tree of knowledge.

2004-09-10T14:29:00.001-07:00

The science building. Woo Hoo! Math class is dead ahead.

2004-09-10T14:29:00.000-07:00

Pretty scenery

2004-09-10T14:28:00.002-07:00

some building

2004-09-10T14:28:00.001-07:00

The one "Signature building" (every university has one).

2004-09-10T14:28:00.000-07:00

The entrance to my dorm.

2004-09-10T14:27:00.002-07:00

The view out my window.

2004-09-10T14:27:00.001-07:00

The air conditioner doubles as a magnet board and table.

2004-09-10T14:27:00.000-07:00

messy floor.

2004-09-10T14:26:00.001-07:00

Lots of clothes.

2004-09-10T14:26:00.000-07:00

Decorating with post cards. Don't be surprised if you recieve one someday. But if you haven't given me your information, don't be surprised if you DON'T recieve one. (Chris, Dewan, Rod, Krystal, Jade, and any others (you know who you are)).

2004-09-10T14:22:00.001-07:00

Ah. Posters. Cover up the pink, please.

2004-09-10T14:22:00.000-07:00

My desk. My beloved computer. And that other one. And decorations. For color.

2004-09-10T14:19:00.000-07:00

and we enter my room. Home sweet home!

2004-09-10T14:14:00.000-07:00

A photo tour, shall we? I think so. Besides, you have no imput. You pretty much have to follow along. Unless you click that little x button in the corner. But I wouldn't. It might be rigged.

Starting with my hall. Quiet in the morning, music in the afternoon, random shouting in the evening, and quiet again when everyone has retired to his room or else gone out for the night. Notice: purple trim, slightly pink walls. In a boy's hall. What were they thinking?

Cooking For Engineers

2004-09-10T14:05:00.000-07:00

Cooking For Engineers

Okay, I know I just started this blog, and I have something else I should be doing right now, but you hvave to check this out. The most ingenious thing in the world. Why doesn't everyone write recipes this way? You just can't screw it up! Hmmm. Surfing blogs CAN be fun!

AND this is just so much cooler than Favorites. Yay for Blogger! So. Picture posting, Blog this, Audioblog, that' Blogger 3 Livejournal 0. This is not a close race.

Digital Doesn't Fade

2004-09-10T13:03:00.000-07:00

I am in a transitional state. With everything else around me changing, I figure, why not try a new journal? (Plus Blogger hosts picture posting) For a bit, I'll be posting on both journals until I make a decision, or until it becomes too much of a pain.

A snapshot fading...every instant, our circumstances and our surroundings make certain impressions on us, and conversely, we make impressions on our environment including those people with whom we interact. However, every impression that we perceive or create is altered as our experience grows and our world view expands. Snapshots fade. And in college, far from home, with so many different viewpoints, and with fewer restraints and expectations levied upon a person, snapshots not only fade, they yellow, are bent, burned, and buried. And all the while, the darkroom churns out new 4 by 5 glossies in a cycle that, eventually, results in a greater understanding of the values and beliefs that one holds dear and protects with heavy frames and glass panes. This is my way of framing some of the old and dear, as well as the new and exciting impressions that develop over the course of this phase of my life.