I was thinking about humor last week after all the frustrations we have in life...around school...work. You never know what happens but you are confident and sure it will go fine. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks or someone said something upsetting, complain-y maybe, in a matter-of-fact tone.
On the east coast, everyone is well-mannered. Too nice perhaps. When is the last time I've heard someone sweared or said something unintelligent? In a ghetto part of Seattle... In Bawlmor, yes. When we are in ghetto areas and places unknown.
Every time I'm with my boyfriend he acts more than just a gentleman, he's never rude to people who are mean/insulting to him. I've tried instilling some ideas and encouraged him to stand up for himself. They wait until something mean or catastrophic happens or take the cowardly way out. A badly ingrained thought. Guys don't need to wise up, they need to say it and get it over with...w/o feeling horrible.
Humor in everything...The logic in that is no one is perfect in a sense they have tried to be without much luck. Life IS too short. I'm not far away from a Krispy Kreme donut.
We can't have the last laugh, it's therapeutic and releases tension.
[I just skipped another day of studying, now it's Tuesday hehe. I'm going to see Muse in concert today. Can't wait! Exercising discipline is a must!]
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
My Name is Araina & I'm Addicted To Social Networking Sites
I gather everyone reading this blog entry has greeted me by saying, "Hi, Araina." ;o) Now that I've stated what the problem is, I need to figure out how I got here and how to control my "addiction". I guess it all started with my unending nosiness. I don't really consider myself to be a nosey person, but I must be since I like to know what "everybody" is doing on a regular basis. It's not like I even care what everyone is doing just knowing is good enough for me. Sad, I know. Anyways, my nosiness then branched out from one social networking site to another, then another. Three places total to satisfy my curiousity to peruse through people's "personal" information that they so eagerly volunteered on the internet. Most of the stuff I read was hilarious from the people making over $250K a year while "between" jobs, to others who had earned bachelor's degrees in less than two years. Just silly things that were undeniably untrue, however, highly entertaining. I could never understand how people were cyber gansters and proud of it. Like any other thing that is so unreal it's laughable, I found great pleasure in reading about the silly things people lied about or, on the other hand, told too much of the truth about. No one needs to know that you've had relentless diarrhea or that you and your kids' father aren't getting along. Why people chose to share such personal information was equally confusing and amusing to me.
Anyways, back to me.
With the variety of things to view on social networking sites, also came many opportunities for me to catch up with old friends, meet new ones, and share a few of my experiences. I was able to see new babies, new beaus, new cars, new houses, the works! But seeing these things weren't enough for me. I needed to visit these sites repeatedly. Repeatedly like every few minutes kind of repeatedly. It became an outlet for me to enjoy the web in a whole new way. Until now. I've found that being addicted to social networking sites has become a bit too much for me. I wake up checking "my" sites, have text messages come to my phone if any activity happens on my profiles, and lastly, before I shut my eyes every night, I have to check my pages. It's such a shame. As I'm sitting here writing this, it's actually very comical to me. True signs of an abuser. Also, in writing this blog entry, I've realized that I've never actually calculated how much time I spend, rather waste, each day on these sites, but I'm definitely sure it's a considerable amount. I have to get a handle on this problem though. I know that if I spent less time on social networking sites, and more time studying for my classes, reading books, or even meditating, I'd be a more calmer, less stressed individual. I think I'm going to make it a goal to limit the times I visit these sites and see if my body won't expire as a result of this change. I'll let you all know how my experiment turns out.
Until next time,
Rain
The FB, Twitter, & MySpace Addict
Anyways, back to me.
With the variety of things to view on social networking sites, also came many opportunities for me to catch up with old friends, meet new ones, and share a few of my experiences. I was able to see new babies, new beaus, new cars, new houses, the works! But seeing these things weren't enough for me. I needed to visit these sites repeatedly. Repeatedly like every few minutes kind of repeatedly. It became an outlet for me to enjoy the web in a whole new way. Until now. I've found that being addicted to social networking sites has become a bit too much for me. I wake up checking "my" sites, have text messages come to my phone if any activity happens on my profiles, and lastly, before I shut my eyes every night, I have to check my pages. It's such a shame. As I'm sitting here writing this, it's actually very comical to me. True signs of an abuser. Also, in writing this blog entry, I've realized that I've never actually calculated how much time I spend, rather waste, each day on these sites, but I'm definitely sure it's a considerable amount. I have to get a handle on this problem though. I know that if I spent less time on social networking sites, and more time studying for my classes, reading books, or even meditating, I'd be a more calmer, less stressed individual. I think I'm going to make it a goal to limit the times I visit these sites and see if my body won't expire as a result of this change. I'll let you all know how my experiment turns out.
Until next time,
Rain
The FB, Twitter, & MySpace Addict
Friday, September 25, 2009
Happy Friday, everyone!
I'm Liz, and I'm thoroughly excited to be here.
I've been trying to think what to post for my first blog entry for some days now, and have considered and discarded the following:
1) How to Walk in Baltimore, or An Introduction to Invisible Automotive Turn Signals
2) What's Up With Those "BELIEVE" Stickers, Anyway?
3) Arcane Secrets of the Trash Removal Schedule Revealed
...but on the whole I think most of the tips and tricks for living in Baltimore are the kind of thing you pick up on your own.
Let me introduce myself. I'm not quite 30 yet, hold a green card rather than American citizenship, drive a car who is almost old enough to legally purchase tobacco products, own a lot of Transformers toys, used to live with a python, and have been in and around Baltimore since we moved here from England in the mid-eighties.
I've just started my MFA in Creative Writing and Publishing Arts at UB, and I am loving it. I've been a writer and an illustrator since I was very small, and have always wanted to have the opportunity to improve and sharpen and expand my skills, and I honestly could not imagine a program more perfectly suited to me than this one. In just the few weeks I've been attending classes I've felt parts of my mind come alive that have been more or less dormant since I graduated from college in 2002. One of the core classes I'm taking is called Creativity: Ways of Seeing, and it's absolutely accurate. Try this at home:
Obtain a camera, preferably a digital camera. It doesn't have to be a complicated expensive SLR with a mad selection of lenses, a simple point-and-shoot will do just fine. Spend an hour walking around a particular location (for our project we were wandering around the UB campus, but this could work anywhere) and taking pictures of what you see--not pictures that show the place as a whole, but pictures of the small things that make up that whole. Details of buildings, cars, sidewalks, trees, clouds, anything you see that's interesting and makes you think. Don't try to edit the photos in your mind, or make them deliberately artsy or posed, just shoot what is there.
Look through your pictures on the computer, and think about what you like and don't like, what's there in a photo that you didn't notice while you were taking it, what themes appear in the pictures. And then go out again without the camera and check out how you're perceiving the world. You'll be looking at patterns rather than seeing familiar objects, noticing colors and shapes and compositional elements in things that you wouldn't have thought twice about before the photo project. It's wonderful and slightly alarming.
I'm enjoying reading all the other entries on this blog, and I look forward to learning more about all of you, what you do, what you like, and where you want to go.
--Liz
I've been trying to think what to post for my first blog entry for some days now, and have considered and discarded the following:
1) How to Walk in Baltimore, or An Introduction to Invisible Automotive Turn Signals
2) What's Up With Those "BELIEVE" Stickers, Anyway?
3) Arcane Secrets of the Trash Removal Schedule Revealed
...but on the whole I think most of the tips and tricks for living in Baltimore are the kind of thing you pick up on your own.
Let me introduce myself. I'm not quite 30 yet, hold a green card rather than American citizenship, drive a car who is almost old enough to legally purchase tobacco products, own a lot of Transformers toys, used to live with a python, and have been in and around Baltimore since we moved here from England in the mid-eighties.
I've just started my MFA in Creative Writing and Publishing Arts at UB, and I am loving it. I've been a writer and an illustrator since I was very small, and have always wanted to have the opportunity to improve and sharpen and expand my skills, and I honestly could not imagine a program more perfectly suited to me than this one. In just the few weeks I've been attending classes I've felt parts of my mind come alive that have been more or less dormant since I graduated from college in 2002. One of the core classes I'm taking is called Creativity: Ways of Seeing, and it's absolutely accurate. Try this at home:
Obtain a camera, preferably a digital camera. It doesn't have to be a complicated expensive SLR with a mad selection of lenses, a simple point-and-shoot will do just fine. Spend an hour walking around a particular location (for our project we were wandering around the UB campus, but this could work anywhere) and taking pictures of what you see--not pictures that show the place as a whole, but pictures of the small things that make up that whole. Details of buildings, cars, sidewalks, trees, clouds, anything you see that's interesting and makes you think. Don't try to edit the photos in your mind, or make them deliberately artsy or posed, just shoot what is there.
Look through your pictures on the computer, and think about what you like and don't like, what's there in a photo that you didn't notice while you were taking it, what themes appear in the pictures. And then go out again without the camera and check out how you're perceiving the world. You'll be looking at patterns rather than seeing familiar objects, noticing colors and shapes and compositional elements in things that you wouldn't have thought twice about before the photo project. It's wonderful and slightly alarming.
I'm enjoying reading all the other entries on this blog, and I look forward to learning more about all of you, what you do, what you like, and where you want to go.
--Liz
Single Ladies Survival Guide
As a student pursuing a master's in publications design, I've spent many long nights at UB. I always leave by 11pm because I'm terrified that my car will be locked inside the parking garage, leaving me with no other option than curling up on a concrete bench in Pearlstone Park (has anyone else heard that it is called Crack Park?) for the night.
Since I work at the BSO, I already pay for a monthly pass to park in the Meyerhoff garage, so I just leave my car there and walk to and from UB. While this is convenient, I always end up walking alone back to the garage, late at night, in the dark, on the streets of Baltimore, passed dark alleys, etc. I've heard of cars getting broken into, people getting mugged, and as of late, people getting the crap beat out of them by high school aged kids at this Mt. Vernon club. Besides the fact that I'm a 5ft tall female (and without saying a weight, let's just say that if I was stuck in a hurricane, I would be airborne), I'm also extremely paranoid and easily frightened. So how do I manage the 10-minute walk (five if I walk really fast) back to the garage? You might not want to know. But for anyone else out there as paranoid as I am, here is your single ladies (or dudes) survival guide:
1. Don't carry mace, a knife, a samurai sword, etc. If you fumble with it, the attacker will just take it and use it against you.
2. Grip your car key in between your pointer and middle fingers. So you can punch out the attackers eyes, of course.
3. If you're uneasy about the person you are about to pass on the street, growl and/or talk loudly to yourself. No one wants to bother a someone who is arguing with themselves.
4. Talk on your cell phone. It's usually too late to actually call someone, so just pretend someone is on the other line and you've got a great story to tell. No one will try to get you if they think you can scream for help to whoever is on the phone.
5. Hold your book bag by the arm strap like its a sack of potatoes and get ready to swing.
Do I take my own advice? I stand by #1; I resort to #2 if I'm not holding something heavy; I've done #3 twice (the last time the guy was another student and I think I scared him); I always do #4; I'd be stupid not to do #5.
Is this overload? Maybe. Am I super paranoid? Definitely. But there's no harm in it. I'm just risking embarrassment in the name of safety.
What do you do to stay safe when walking back to your car?
Oh yeah, this is my first post--hope you've enjoyed it. Find out more about me here.
Since I work at the BSO, I already pay for a monthly pass to park in the Meyerhoff garage, so I just leave my car there and walk to and from UB. While this is convenient, I always end up walking alone back to the garage, late at night, in the dark, on the streets of Baltimore, passed dark alleys, etc. I've heard of cars getting broken into, people getting mugged, and as of late, people getting the crap beat out of them by high school aged kids at this Mt. Vernon club. Besides the fact that I'm a 5ft tall female (and without saying a weight, let's just say that if I was stuck in a hurricane, I would be airborne), I'm also extremely paranoid and easily frightened. So how do I manage the 10-minute walk (five if I walk really fast) back to the garage? You might not want to know. But for anyone else out there as paranoid as I am, here is your single ladies (or dudes) survival guide:
1. Don't carry mace, a knife, a samurai sword, etc. If you fumble with it, the attacker will just take it and use it against you.
2. Grip your car key in between your pointer and middle fingers. So you can punch out the attackers eyes, of course.
3. If you're uneasy about the person you are about to pass on the street, growl and/or talk loudly to yourself. No one wants to bother a someone who is arguing with themselves.
4. Talk on your cell phone. It's usually too late to actually call someone, so just pretend someone is on the other line and you've got a great story to tell. No one will try to get you if they think you can scream for help to whoever is on the phone.
5. Hold your book bag by the arm strap like its a sack of potatoes and get ready to swing.
Do I take my own advice? I stand by #1; I resort to #2 if I'm not holding something heavy; I've done #3 twice (the last time the guy was another student and I think I scared him); I always do #4; I'd be stupid not to do #5.
Is this overload? Maybe. Am I super paranoid? Definitely. But there's no harm in it. I'm just risking embarrassment in the name of safety.
What do you do to stay safe when walking back to your car?
Oh yeah, this is my first post--hope you've enjoyed it. Find out more about me here.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
The Yin-Yang Philosophy
I find that I can be two completely different and opposite people, where and how you meet me will depend on which side you'll see. On one hand I can be one of the most obnoxious, inappropriate, drunken, excessive, generic partying college kids that you've ever met (yin.) On the other hand I would like to save the world through social entrepreneurship. I am passionate about social and environmental issues and think that if we all hold hands and quit thinking about ourselves then we could really make this world a pretty bitchin' place to live (yang.) When combined I call this the "work hard, play hard, sleep when you're dead" mentality.
Yin:
I already have a blog where I write about the utter debauchery of my life - yes this blog is private, yes you need a password to see it and no you may not have a password. I think at this point in time there may be a dozen or so of my close friends that are actually allowed to see it. If my mother saw what I wrote there she'd faint. My grandma couldn't read it because she's too old but if she had someone read it to her she'd probably take a dirt nap right then and there. My future girlfriends and wife would no longer be my future girlfriends and wife. My future kids would think it was hilarious because they were raised by hooligans in the streets after the random woman who birthed them left them on a door step in the cut. This wouldn't have happened but my former future wife, who was going to be a perfectly loving, caring mother wanted nothing to do with a guy like me. Over the top? Yes. At any rate that blog satisfies the excessive part of me.
Yang:
With the yin side out of my system I'll probably reserve this blog for talking about unicorns, rainbows and butterflies and for that I apologize. I feel that it's good to keep the yin-yang balance in my life. If it gets too much just leave a comment and tell me that I need to tone it down a bit. However, if recall the yin-yang symbol, each of the two tear drops that makes up the perfect circle also has a dot of the opposite color inside. In other words, yes I will try to write about good natured inspiring stuff here but from time to time I'm bound to pepper in some of the inappropriate.
Yin-Yang:
I also have another blog, which I'll be writing about soon, about my upcoming trip to Portugal through my International Management class here. The class trip is October 2nd - October 9th (yin) and I'll be extending my stay another week to go down and party in the south of Portugal (Algarve area if you're familiar), Spain and hopefully Morocco (yang.)
On another note, as of right now it doesn't seem as if this blog is terribly pop. I'm going to do my best to try to get a decent readership going on by letting my social network know about it. If you are a follower and you dig what you read here you should do the same.
Remember kids: be well, do good work and always know your dealer.
Cheers.
Miles.
Welcome Followers and Happy Thursday
Well hello everyone. Nice to read all the entries from my fellow blogger pals!! Let me just start by saying I too am excited about this new venture...blogging, although it took a minute to explain to my mom what blogging is !! I am a very chatty person so you can best believe I WILL read and respond to your posts !!! It's just what I do, just ask my Facebook fans. I'm also excited for figuring out how to put this picture up here. Learning, learning, learning....that's what I'm doing everyday!
So many of my friends have anxiously waited to see what entertainment I would bring to my latest challenge in life...being a UB blogger !!!
Well, we'll save the real humor you've become used to me giving for next time. This time I have a real issue to discuss...speeding & crosswalk safety around this campus. People speed everywhere but the streets/intersections around this campus are filled with a different type of driver and poor pedestrians (like myself) just trying to get to the other side. Maybe it's due to our proximity to Penn Station or 83. I don't know but its bad. You almost feel like you need to call for emergency rescue and just tell them "hold on, I might get hit in a minute".
I'm really starting to think those colored things (known to most as traffic signals) hanging at the corners of Mt Royal & Charles and other surrounding intersections around the school are for show....or to teach school children their colors ! They certainly are not for the walkers, drivers, rollerbladers, skate boarders, bicyclist and anyone or anything else needing to get from one side of the street to the other. It is horrible. I guess you need to be ten feet tall to really notice them.
But you ever wonder what exactly these people are racing to? Next time you waiting to cross the street look closely at the faces of the drivers who won't let you go. Try to figure out if they are racing to Maryland Ave Garage to find a good parking spot so they can get to class on time or did they forget to pick the kids up from school or do they need to get home before their mate so they can start dinner or did the business meeting just run late and they mad. When I read a book, I like to become a character...put myself in the middle of the story. Put yourself in the passenger seats of these cars and see if you can figure what the rush is !!!
Watching these people reminds me of something my mother told me during a trip to Newport News, Va. Cars were passing her left and right. Me, being a stickler for time, had mapped out our trip, including how long it should take to get there, how much time we'd have to rest before going to our destination in Newport News. I repeatedly asked her to speed up cause we were behind schedule and she simply told me, of course in that calm, patient, motherly voice of hers YOU CAN'T MAKE UP TIME. She never met the drivers on the streets around this campus !!! They're making up time and I'm losing it playing cat and mouse trying to cross the street.
Well it's Thursday so enjoy your Friday and I'll see you back here next time. Thanks for reading !!!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Playing tourist, or is that local?
This is a big first week for a lot of us bloggers. I, too, am new. So, here's the quick and dirty background: I'm Tabitha, 26 years old. About a month ago, I moved from southern West Virginia to Baltimore so I can work towards my M.F.A. in Creative Writing and Publishing Arts. So far, I can't say enough good things.
I won't lie; the move itself had some near-disasters. We almost didn't move into the apartment at all, in fact. But, since we got settled--though, we had to sell our over sized living room furniture (and have not yet replaced it), what I have come to realize is a common experience among transplants--it has been nothing but fun. My assignments have included taking thirty minute walks every day and writing nonsense poems. They've also challenged me to call myself an artist. (Feel free to imagine me cringing at the title.) But, that is a big part of my choosing UB and this program. It combined the practical aspects of publishing with creative writing. I started out in college thinking I was going to be a biology major, so you can imagine the surprise when it was English Literature, then onto writing poetry and fiction in grad. school. College has definitely been about discovering who I am and becoming fearless enough to be that person every day.
But aside from the serious, let me just love the city for a minute. I come from a tiny town called Poca, Home of the Dots. (Yes, that is our ferocious mascot: a giant dot. He wears sunglasses.) I missed the party in Hampden but have no such intention of missing The Baltimore Book Festival (Sept. 25-27) in Mount Vernon. Books, authors, author interviews--it is so my nirvana. And it is practically in my back yard. And yours! Mount Vernon is an easy-quick walk from campus. I'm also attending the poetry reading tomorrow night at 8p.m., fifth floor of the Student Center where our adjunct professors are going to show off for awhile. (And I can ogle the city view.)
And, yes, you are reading that enthusiasm correctly. I am a little over excited at the idea of getting out of the apartment for something other than class. I have two dogs and a cat. The dogs are accustomed to a house and a fenced yard, which means roaming at will. They've had more trouble than the rest of us adjusting to the move (i.e. howling and barking whenever my boyfriend or I are not in their direct eye line). However, this week they've finally chilled. Or, so we think. No neighbors have come knocking, so I'm going to blissfully believe they are behaving after weeks of working with them. That meant we got to head down to the Inner Harbor and play tourist. We took a tour of the WWII submarine the USS Torsk. Very worth it, but packed enough that I only snagged two vital bits of information. First, the Torsk sunk the last enemy vessel of WWII. Secondly, its four engines had names (though one is missing its faceplate): Susan, Daisy Mae, and Lil Abner. We also ate at Sammy's Trattoria on Charles Street. I'm going back for the tiramisu.
Otherwise, let me just leave you with a few of my discoveries in the month that I have been here: the number three bus goes everywhere, take your student ID if you plan to write a check at the Safeway, and that beautiful building with the strange, multi-gendered statue is Penn Station. People will ask about the latter. And, if you know, they may think you're a local. (Or so I'm telling myself.) Things I still need to find: sweet tea (I am that southern cliché)--though McDonald's is sporting an okay brew, a vet., and a sign that stops bus drivers from leaving people (yes, particularly me) on the side of the road.
I won't lie; the move itself had some near-disasters. We almost didn't move into the apartment at all, in fact. But, since we got settled--though, we had to sell our over sized living room furniture (and have not yet replaced it), what I have come to realize is a common experience among transplants--it has been nothing but fun. My assignments have included taking thirty minute walks every day and writing nonsense poems. They've also challenged me to call myself an artist. (Feel free to imagine me cringing at the title.) But, that is a big part of my choosing UB and this program. It combined the practical aspects of publishing with creative writing. I started out in college thinking I was going to be a biology major, so you can imagine the surprise when it was English Literature, then onto writing poetry and fiction in grad. school. College has definitely been about discovering who I am and becoming fearless enough to be that person every day.
But aside from the serious, let me just love the city for a minute. I come from a tiny town called Poca, Home of the Dots. (Yes, that is our ferocious mascot: a giant dot. He wears sunglasses.) I missed the party in Hampden but have no such intention of missing The Baltimore Book Festival (Sept. 25-27) in Mount Vernon. Books, authors, author interviews--it is so my nirvana. And it is practically in my back yard. And yours! Mount Vernon is an easy-quick walk from campus. I'm also attending the poetry reading tomorrow night at 8p.m., fifth floor of the Student Center where our adjunct professors are going to show off for awhile. (And I can ogle the city view.)
And, yes, you are reading that enthusiasm correctly. I am a little over excited at the idea of getting out of the apartment for something other than class. I have two dogs and a cat. The dogs are accustomed to a house and a fenced yard, which means roaming at will. They've had more trouble than the rest of us adjusting to the move (i.e. howling and barking whenever my boyfriend or I are not in their direct eye line). However, this week they've finally chilled. Or, so we think. No neighbors have come knocking, so I'm going to blissfully believe they are behaving after weeks of working with them. That meant we got to head down to the Inner Harbor and play tourist. We took a tour of the WWII submarine the USS Torsk. Very worth it, but packed enough that I only snagged two vital bits of information. First, the Torsk sunk the last enemy vessel of WWII. Secondly, its four engines had names (though one is missing its faceplate): Susan, Daisy Mae, and Lil Abner. We also ate at Sammy's Trattoria on Charles Street. I'm going back for the tiramisu.
Otherwise, let me just leave you with a few of my discoveries in the month that I have been here: the number three bus goes everywhere, take your student ID if you plan to write a check at the Safeway, and that beautiful building with the strange, multi-gendered statue is Penn Station. People will ask about the latter. And, if you know, they may think you're a local. (Or so I'm telling myself.) Things I still need to find: sweet tea (I am that southern cliché)--though McDonald's is sporting an okay brew, a vet., and a sign that stops bus drivers from leaving people (yes, particularly me) on the side of the road.
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