The naked truth.

I wrote a paper today for Sociology. Not a terribly exciting event, save for one fact: it was about people who run around naked. Isn't it funny how nudity makes everything more interesting? Like dancing to old 90s music, alternating between eating ice cream and using the spoon as a microphone. In case anyone was wondering, dancing around in my underwear has always been a favorite pasttime of mine. What can I say? I'm not a particular fan of clothes in general. Call me a free spirit or call me a slut, I don't really care. Go bundle up in your pants and shirts and socks. I'll do my thing.

I didn't really intend for this blog to be about my personal habits when my roommate isn't home, and I really don't want this to become crude, so I'll do a drastic change of subject now.

I was also doing some reading for my Western Civ history class today (hooray, she's catching up on homework that she missed during the week-long, illness-induced hiatus!) and I came across this really beautiful Muslim poem. I'm going to post it because honestly, I haven't done any good plagiarism lately (joking!), and I thought I'd have a go at it.

I believe it's called "The Shepherd's Care" by Jalaluddin al-Rumi. Obviously, it rhymes in Arabic (which must sound absolutely gorgeous I'm sure), but the English translation is still very pretty.

Join the community of saints and know the delight of your own soul.
Enter the ruins of your heart and learn the meaning of humility.

Drain the cup of passion and walk steadfast on the path of Truth.
Close both eyes and see the mysteries with your inner eye.

Open your arms if you want to Beloved's embrace.
Break your bonds with this body if you want to see His pure and radiant Face.

Would you marry an old woman to gain a dowry of a few pennies?
Would you face the threat of swords and spears for three loaves of bread?

The Saaqi is not a tyrant.
So come and sit within her circle.
How long will you stay outside and watch her dance the way you watch the circling night sky?

God's creation is vast --
Why do you sit all day in a tiny prison?

Look! He's giving you a real bargain --
Give up one and get a hundred.
Stop running around like a wolf or a dog -- stay and recieve the Shepherd's care.

You say, He stole away my sweetheart!
Forget it -- twenty more sweethearts will come

Thoughts of the Beloved will feed your soul.
How can your hunger be satisfied by thoughts of bread alone?

Speak little,
Learn the words of eternity.

Go beyond your tangled thoughts and find the splendor of Paradise.
Go beyond your little world and find the grandeur of God's world.


Now, those of you who know me will know that I am by no means an overly religious person. For clarification purposes only: I was raised Catholic, but I don't exactly agree with everything the Church teaches. Most Catholics my age don't, a fact which my parents resent greatly, but that's the generation gap for you. I support gay rights and birth control, and I have no problem with premarital sex. I'm officially "undecided" on the topic of abortion, because I've never been in a situation where I or anyone close to me has needed one, and therefore cannot form a decent opinion on the matter.

There. Go ahead and throw your Bibles at me, you traditionalists. Laugh at my ignorant belief in God, you atheists. Shrug your shoulders, everyone else.

At any rate, I think the poem is really beautiful. For a person who is only assured of God's actual existence about 63% of the time, I was impressed. The last four lines especially hit a chord with me, so to speak.

Go beyond your tangled thoughts. Go beyond your little world.

I'm too frustrated to think of a title.

Well, here I am again. It is officially two forty-seven am. I am wide awake. I have been making ever more futile attempts at falling asleep for almost two hours now. Typically I lull myself to sleep in the stupidest way; I play out scenarios and stories in my head. I daydream until I fall asleep. I'm not sure why I do it; maybe I think that it makes the transition to real dreaming easier. But tonight it's not working.

No matter what I do, I can't stop thinking about stupid things that make my heart pound and my adrenaline rush. Like M. and how mad I still am at him for what he did to me. Or B. and how much I like him. The latter worries me more so than the former, mainly because I don't want to give him that opening. Again. Yes, I have a tough exterior. But it is incredibly thin. And I don't know how to fix that.

I think I'm hiding behind this newfound mentality of mine. I see how well it works for Mims and I put myself in that mind frame so it will work for me. But I can't help but wonder if I really think like that now, or if I'm just pretending. Most of me thinks that I really do want the things I say I want. That I really am just looking for a good time, that I don't want to tie myself down. I think that's the biggest part of me that changed after M. messed me up. But a tiny tiny bit of the old me is still there. And that tiny little bit is starting to nibble at the foundations of the new me. And you know something? That really fucking pisses me off.

Another thing that's bothering me is the fact that I'm pretty sure someone is going to get mad at me this weekend. I'm almost positive that someone or other will accuse me of blowing him or her off when I go home. But in all honesty, I can't help the fact that I'm a complete social butterfly. That I'm so close to so many different people.

What bothers me even more than that is the fact that I'm not close to the people I once was. I'm not going to take all of the blame for this; keeping in touch is a two-way street, and I have yet to recieve a phone call from anyone about whom I am speaking right now. The fact is, we're all still so self-centered (as I detailed in my previous blog). We're too wrapped up in our own little lives to worry about what's going on with friends who are four hours away from us. It's Asheboro all over again. Only it's different, because the ties are closer and the girls are--forgive me Amherstonians, I say this with all the affection in the world, I swear--somewhat cattier. That's just the way it is. And I guess my priorities are completely skewed as well. I'm not going to pretend that I am not selfish or catty, because really I am very much so sometimes. Not always. But sometimes. My motives for visiting home are entirely selfish. I'll admit that right now. I really just want to see how this whole B. situation pans out.

Not that I'm looking for or expecting any kind of commitment from him. I think I'd be a little disappointed if I got it. I mean, it really doesn't get much more impractical than that. The fact of the matter is, I have no time, energy, or patience to sustain a real relationship, so I'm not looking for one. If anything even remotely resembling a relationship were to start taking shape in my life, it would be a low-effort, long-distance type thing. Oh...look what we have here. Oops.

I'm rambling. My apologies. I'm just frustrated because I really want to sleep; I just got over a monster of a cold/sinus infection and I am desperate to stay healthy. My grades and my job can't afford for me to be sick again.

A yawn. That's a good sign. I should read my econ book until I actually fall asleep. Or maybe I'll just go read random blogs online instead.

I have a real problem with procrastination sometimes.

Egocentrism never seemed more appropriate

So today, someone told me that I have "a way of making a person feel like they know you without giving away too much". I'm not quite sure how to take that. I mean, I suppose it's a compliment, because I suppose it must take a certain amount of skill or talent to give that sort of insight while still retaining the certain amount of anonymity that I hold so dear. But at the same time...that's not what I want this blog to be about at all. I want to write about things, reactions, what I see and hear. But I inevitably wind up writing about myself.

I guess that's okay really. I mean, I'm nineteen years old. The stage in life during which I can be completely self-centered is quickly drawing to a close. As a child, a person cares about nothing and no one else, and that's okay. They're not expected to be mature enough to care about anything else. But really, at this stage in life, my focus has spread. I look out for my family and friends, my employees and coworkers, etc., just like everyone else my age. But "me" still comes first for many of us, and that is still okay. We're all little more than children playing dress-up for the most part; we're the little girls who play with mommy's makeup to experiment, the little boys who follow their dads around with a hammer and nails. Only now we're playing with our own sense of independence and self-reliance. I'm speaking in generalities of course; there will always be the maturity-retarded few who can't seem to catch up with the rest. But they'll suffer the consequences of their refusual to grow up sooner or later.

Eventually we'll all have to stop being pretend grown-ups and start being real ones. We'll have to put our spouses, children, and careers before ourselves. And that's a scary thought, for me at least. Imagine having someone who is more important to you than you are to yourself. It's weird. Maybe I just think that because I've never really been in that postition, and I know I won't be anytime soon. Is it weird that I fully recognize the fact that I'm not mature/stable/prepared enough for a real relationship? Did I get fucked up that badly, or did I just grow up a lot these past few months? I prefer to believe the latter. I don't think any person, male or female, friend or foe, could affect me that much. The only person I want to change me is me.

This is your life. Are you who you want to be?

How much time does the average person spend thinking about how their life is turning out? Is it enough? What determines obsession (and therefore suffering the consequences of less social time), normalcy, and ignorance?

Sometimes I take a mental step back and analyze my life thus far. My successes and accomplishments, my tribulations and failures. I try not to do this TOO often; I've found that too much examination leads to discouragement. Am I really happy with all I've done, or am I in denial of the fact that I have completely failed to accomplish what I meant to by this point in my life? I don't think I have anything of which to be ashamed. I'm not claiming perfection; I know that I have made mistakes. But I haven't let those mistakes define me, and I think that makes al the difference.

What determines satisfaction in our identity? I suppose it must be different for each person...I guess it would have to be. Maybe the real question I'm avoiding is whether or not I am satisfied. Do my accomplishments outwiegh my transgressions?

I've said it before: I have nothing of which I am ashamed. I suppose that is quite a bit more than most people can say.

Unresolved

I decided not to make a true New Year's Resolution this year. I think it's honestly a big waste of time. There's a reason why we are all resolving to do these things; they're our vices, and we want to change them. But there's a reason why we have seen eighteen, twenty-one, forty-three new years without changing these things about ourselves. We can't. Most of the time, it's a part of us that makes us who we are. So go on, you hopeful masses. Tell yourself that you'll lose the weight, that you'll quit smoking, that you'll stop being so slutty and you'll go to class. I'm not being cynical, I'm being honest: it won't happen.

Once again I find myself in late-night contemplations of change. My graduation picture is sitting on my desk beside my computer. My parents are standing on either side of me in my cap and gown, with a caption below that reads "Class of 2006". I can't help but feel that I've lost more than just time since then. I was so innocent and romantic then. And now I'm older and colder and just... more realistic. And I think I preferred it when I romanticized everything, even if it did mean more disappointment. I remember throwing my hat in the air and picking up my diploma and feeling like I was holding the entire world in my hands. Like I had so much potential. And now I just feel like a neverending struggle to attain all that I thought would come naturally. I can't help but wonder if I'm the only person whose perspective changed that much.

At the beginning of every quarter, I tell myself that I won't have time for relationships. That I won't go looking for one, or even let one happen, because I know it won't work. Because deep down, I don't really want one at all. And every quarter I find myself with a new flavor of the week. Only this time it's a little different. This time there's a little bit of a history...a year at least, as compared to the previous record of a few months, or the runner-up of a few weeks. The ironic thing is that this is even less viable than any previous chance due to the distance issue, not to mention the emotional retardation from which we both suffer. And yet...it seems different.

On the other hand, it always seems different. And that's why I always go back on my word.

At least I'm not trying to convince myself that I'll change.

Hello, old friend

Well, "friend" might not be the best term for my insomnia. "Reluctant acquaintance" might fit better. I actually have been sleeping very well for the past week or so, but vast quantities of alcohol and purposely staying out until two or three in the morning will do that to a person. Or so I hear.

But tonight the culprit is a very real problem that I have been trying to deal with for the past several months. Money. It is kind of sad really...I'm nineteen years old, tossing and turning at five thirty in the morning because of credit card bills and paychecks and tuition payments. I discovered yesterday that other than the check I recieved on January 4th, I don't get paid this month. That check was around $400, and it has to pay for food, laundry, entertainment, two credit card payments, and a $630 tuition payment that's due in the first few days of February. You don't have to be a college-level student to know that that is not going to work. So last night I swallowed my pride (almost choking to death in the process), and called my dad to ask for money. I haven't done that in almost a year. It was one of the most disappointing things I have done in ages. And I have done a LOT of stupid, disappointing things recently.

I really think I need to take out a loan. Just a small one, ten thousand dollars or so. A fraction of what the vast majority of my peers are borrowing. And if I save just sixty or seventy percent of what I'm currently spending each month on tuition (or as the case will be this summer and next year, on rent), I will not only be able to afford the cost of living in Athens (and be able to finally pay off my credit cards), but also have almost the entire loan amount saved up by graduation. And I can use that money to buy a car in the next year or two, and still have enough left to pay about half of the loan amount at graduation. I would still graduate light-years ahead of my peers where debt is concerned. Which is why I'm not allowed to take out a loan in the first place; to graudate with an advantage. I'd still have a hell of an advantage if I take out that one tiny loan. I wouldn't even have to take it out every year; I'm confident that I could make that one loan, in addition to my job, last me for the remaining two and a half years I have left of school.

It should be said that I'm not technically paying for tuition; I have a scholarship that covers that. My $600+ payments each month are for room and board. And that payment will be drastically reduced next year when I move into my apartment.

I just don't think it is feasible for a college student these days to graduate without any debt at all, be it credit card or loan, unless she has a complete full-ride scholarship, and a job. Tuition rates have increased MUCH faster than inflation, making a debt-free higher education next to impossible. And federal aid hasn't increased at nearly the same rate either. Ten years ago, the Pell Grant was comparable to a full ride. Now? Not even close. I think it is downright impractical for my father to even expect me to not be in debt, especially considering the fact that he is giving me exactly nothing where money is concerned. I mean, he is giving me money for next month's payment, but I will have to pay that back. I'm not quite sure how to do that, seeing as how 90% of my paychecks already go to paying for school and necessities.

It's time to cut the cord. I am an adult, for chrissake. I am mature enough to be capable of making my own financial decisions. I shouldn't have to sit down and research every aspect of federal and private loans in order to take one out, but that is precisely what I will have to do if I want to convince my father that a loan is a practical decision. I should not even have to convince him, but that's me for you. I'm pretty sure I don't even qualify for federal loans, because I am still technically a dependant, and my dad's income is too high for that. It's not like there are eight kids in my family or anything. It's not like the next oldest after me starts college in the fall. Too bad the government doesn't look at that. To be quite frank, it is complete bullshit the way the government handles student aid. They don't care that I'm paying for school on my own. They don't care that my parents have 9 other people to care for besides myself, and therefore cannot shell out thousands of dollars every year for my education. Thanks, Uncle Sam.

I feel like I'm too young to be awake at this hour, analyzing my financial situation. Sadly, I think that I'm probably in the same boat as the majority, if not the entirety, of my peers. It's just that no one talks about it. I once read that money is less talked about than sex, especially amongst young people. Funny, isn't it? That we are all so worried and insecure about our financial situations that we would rather discuss our sex lives with each other.

I have half a mind to just get up for the day, go for a run, take a shower, and then go to class at nine. (Sidenote: It's warm enough out...mid fifties right now. And the forcast for tomorrow is seventy degrees. God, I love warm winters.) But I'm pretty sure that I'd be exhausted by the time I left work around eight or nine tonight...not to mention that the OSU national championship game is on tonight, and the fact that I still have a pretty bad cough that would probably stop my running within the first few minutes of starting. What a shame.