If the capitalization and punctuation is off, forgive me. the shift button on this keyboard is a touch stuck and all the punctuation marks are misplaced thanks to the extra letter on brasilian keyboards.
For those of you that do not know, I left from DTW on Tuesday at 2 pm. from Detroit we, Leah and I flew to Miami where we had a three hour lay over before we flew down to Sao Paulo (which means Saint Paul, should you care to know). What some of you may have heard was that an American Airlines flight (I was on an AA flight) crash landed on a Jamaican beach.
That wasn´t me. We arrived safely in Brasil. To summarize in brief what was a VERY long day... from the airport ~Leah~s parents p icked us up and we took a taxi to the bus station. From there we took a 9 hour bus ride to Londrena where we spent the night. This morning we woke up at drove the last three and a half hours back to the house where I shall be spending the better part of this next month.
As for what Ive seen - city, country, town, country, Brasilian Christmas decorating, another missionary family, banana trees, coconut trees, sugar cane, eggs sold out of the back of a car, fruit sold out of the back of a truck, underwear sold next to the key chains in the bus terminal, brasilian driving, and the effects of 36 hours of travel on my face, eyes, and hair. which is not pretty.
Well, dinner is on and I am hungry!
From Brasil,
-Frank
P.S. cashews down here are fresh and taste better, and cashew juice tastes like non-alcoholic pina colada with a hint of cashew.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Midnight Blogger which Blogs at Midnight!!!
So, I so totally shouldn't blog this late at night... especially considering how drunk I am with sleep... but post I on! And I don't know why! Which means I am putting up my official ramble warning.
Continuing on...
I have had a whirlwind time at home... Tuesday, I leave for Brasil. *insert screaming here* I don't think it has sunk in yet. I think I'll go into shock when it does... or I'll realize what happened after I get back and promptly pass out upon returning to NLand. Or Headquarters, as the Boof has put it. Bwahahahaha!
Interesting tid-bit - packing for any trip with Survivor-man for a dad means you will be told you should pack everything from a headlamp to parachute cord and a 1 terabyte sd card for your camera. Personally, I would pack one weeks worth of stuff and just go from there.
As it stands, people apparently require a lot more to survive than clothes. Between the allergy meds, bug spray, suntain lotion, and everything else under the sun, I've got quite the little list going of things I absolutely must remember to pack. And while I was at it, I decided to throw in my T. S. Elliot book of poetry, my journals, my Bible, and some chapstick.
Why not?
One huge perk of leaving before Christmas is that for me at least, Christmas comes early! Whee! I've already opened my Christmas gifts and am now the happy owner of Photoshop Elements 8, Allegory of Love by C. S. Lewis, and an assortment of other happy items (including a hoodie that has headphones in the hood's strings!!!). The other huge perk, is that I'm doing all my Christmas shopping in Brasil... which means no one will get anything from me until mid to late January, and it will be just random little knick-knacks. The real glory of junk you get while traveling is that no matter what it is, people will keep it forever and think it is awesome by simple virtue of the fact it is from another country. :o)
But I probably shouldn't have revealed that little secret. Oh well, too late!
Oh!!! Hugely fun bit of trivia for me! I went to my first Sunday School Christmas Party at the church my parents are now going to. I was sooo tired when I left for it and had no idea what to expect, but by the end of the night I had had one of the best times I have had in ages! It was so much fun! I hadn't realized how many fun people were in my Sunday School class... then again, I hadn't attended Sunday School there more than a handful of times and the same people never seemed to show up twice... However! The people are a lot of fun! Unfortunately, they seem to be scattered around the country for the most part. :o( Ah well.
Well dear blog and all.... 5? 6? readers - This may very well be my last post state side. If I manage to post again before I come back, it will be from Brasil!
Pray we have a safe trip, that I don't get any funky or tropical diseases, and that we have an awesome time!
Continuing on...
I have had a whirlwind time at home... Tuesday, I leave for Brasil. *insert screaming here* I don't think it has sunk in yet. I think I'll go into shock when it does... or I'll realize what happened after I get back and promptly pass out upon returning to NLand. Or Headquarters, as the Boof has put it. Bwahahahaha!
Interesting tid-bit - packing for any trip with Survivor-man for a dad means you will be told you should pack everything from a headlamp to parachute cord and a 1 terabyte sd card for your camera. Personally, I would pack one weeks worth of stuff and just go from there.
As it stands, people apparently require a lot more to survive than clothes. Between the allergy meds, bug spray, suntain lotion, and everything else under the sun, I've got quite the little list going of things I absolutely must remember to pack. And while I was at it, I decided to throw in my T. S. Elliot book of poetry, my journals, my Bible, and some chapstick.
Why not?
One huge perk of leaving before Christmas is that for me at least, Christmas comes early! Whee! I've already opened my Christmas gifts and am now the happy owner of Photoshop Elements 8, Allegory of Love by C. S. Lewis, and an assortment of other happy items (including a hoodie that has headphones in the hood's strings!!!). The other huge perk, is that I'm doing all my Christmas shopping in Brasil... which means no one will get anything from me until mid to late January, and it will be just random little knick-knacks. The real glory of junk you get while traveling is that no matter what it is, people will keep it forever and think it is awesome by simple virtue of the fact it is from another country. :o)
But I probably shouldn't have revealed that little secret. Oh well, too late!
Oh!!! Hugely fun bit of trivia for me! I went to my first Sunday School Christmas Party at the church my parents are now going to. I was sooo tired when I left for it and had no idea what to expect, but by the end of the night I had had one of the best times I have had in ages! It was so much fun! I hadn't realized how many fun people were in my Sunday School class... then again, I hadn't attended Sunday School there more than a handful of times and the same people never seemed to show up twice... However! The people are a lot of fun! Unfortunately, they seem to be scattered around the country for the most part. :o( Ah well.
Well dear blog and all.... 5? 6? readers - This may very well be my last post state side. If I manage to post again before I come back, it will be from Brasil!
Pray we have a safe trip, that I don't get any funky or tropical diseases, and that we have an awesome time!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Waiting for the Parentals
While waiting for my parents to get here, I find I have few minutes to kill. So, this is my last Northland post for the year! It is also my first opportunity to get reflective and sentimental. I know, you all enjoy these sort of posts so! The whole two of you that pay attention...
Alright, where was I in September? Well, I came back up here wanting nothing more than to turn around and go home. I was struggling with a lot of things, ranging from rules books to being dateless and generally dissatisfied with life.
Circumstantially, absolutely nothing has changed. However, I am no longer quite so hateful of rule books (we are back to distasteful) and I am more than happy to leave to my relationship status on Facebook as single. I know, it sounds so lame and cliche: "I'm satisfied in Christ, I'm content being single" yadda yadda yadda. Whatever. I'm pretty sure it's not that so much as acceptance of circumstances and being "content with my station in life." I'm okay with the fact I have no idea what I want to do after I graduate. I am fine with having no career plan outside of getting a book published.
In short - I have grown.
Don't you love how people always say in short after a long, boring schpiel?
Anyway, I have struggled a lot this semester with whatever craziness and stuff that has gone on. The insanity of class scheduling and trying to graduate on time... ugh! I still shudder when I think about it, but at the same time, I know I SCARE'd and I know it was all God rearranging everything.
Looking back over four years, I am starting to see how God is tying together all these random things that just seemed like an unmitigated pain in the butt, thorn in the flesh, and general bit of obnoxiousness into something greater. I still can't see the picture He is weaving, but I'm starting to see that there is a theme.
Once I again, I find myself haunted by something the student body chaplain said my sophomore year: God is sovereign and it is perfect.
Between that and SCARE (See Christ Arrange Remarkable Events), I think there's a theme going on and I'm starting to pick up on it -- God is sovereign and He arranges remarkable (and unremarkable) events in ways I cannot even begin to understand.
So, to wrap up this school semester (and all of college thus far: God does not have contingency plans. He is not late nor is He early. He acts precisely when He means to; which is seldom how or when I expect.
Merry Christmas!
Alright, where was I in September? Well, I came back up here wanting nothing more than to turn around and go home. I was struggling with a lot of things, ranging from rules books to being dateless and generally dissatisfied with life.
Circumstantially, absolutely nothing has changed. However, I am no longer quite so hateful of rule books (we are back to distasteful) and I am more than happy to leave to my relationship status on Facebook as single. I know, it sounds so lame and cliche: "I'm satisfied in Christ, I'm content being single" yadda yadda yadda. Whatever. I'm pretty sure it's not that so much as acceptance of circumstances and being "content with my station in life." I'm okay with the fact I have no idea what I want to do after I graduate. I am fine with having no career plan outside of getting a book published.
In short - I have grown.
Don't you love how people always say in short after a long, boring schpiel?
Anyway, I have struggled a lot this semester with whatever craziness and stuff that has gone on. The insanity of class scheduling and trying to graduate on time... ugh! I still shudder when I think about it, but at the same time, I know I SCARE'd and I know it was all God rearranging everything.
Looking back over four years, I am starting to see how God is tying together all these random things that just seemed like an unmitigated pain in the butt, thorn in the flesh, and general bit of obnoxiousness into something greater. I still can't see the picture He is weaving, but I'm starting to see that there is a theme.
Once I again, I find myself haunted by something the student body chaplain said my sophomore year: God is sovereign and it is perfect.
Between that and SCARE (See Christ Arrange Remarkable Events), I think there's a theme going on and I'm starting to pick up on it -- God is sovereign and He arranges remarkable (and unremarkable) events in ways I cannot even begin to understand.
So, to wrap up this school semester (and all of college thus far: God does not have contingency plans. He is not late nor is He early. He acts precisely when He means to; which is seldom how or when I expect.
Merry Christmas!
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Yes, you all are cows. Happy?
After much thought, observation, and having the bejeebers annoyed out of me I think I have finally cracked the female mind in one area: weight.
According to most female minds - she is fat. She could weigh nothing and she would still be fat. A woman is always fat. Always. And no matter how many times another girl tells her she is thin (and I dare say even a guy can tell her as much and she won't care) she is still fat.
Skinny or thin is consistently one to ten pounds less than whatever a girl currently weighs. It doesn't matter whether or not her current weight is perfectly healthy and she looks fabulous - thin is one to ten pounds away. Girls can only manage to be thin for one, maybe two days in a row, and "thin days" have nothing to do with weight, but perceived skinniness.
Her friends are thin. Even if it her friend who is three inches shorter, weighs ten pounds more,
wears bigger clothes, and could stand to lose a few - she is thin. Always thin. She always looks just fine just the way she is. Now, if said friend decides to take off five or ten pounds the girl may say something like, "No, I think you look fine just the way you are, but if you are only losing like five or ten pounds, that's not a big deal. Either way, you'll look great!" The only way a girl's friends are fatter than her is if they are substantially overweight, and even then they only need to "lose a few pounds". Unless her friend looks comparable to Violet Beauregard, she is not fat.
The crucial thing to understand here is that everything to do with the "fatness" or "skinniness" of any given girl (within a healthy average weight range) is all in her head. It has almost nothing to do with the scale or the way her clothes fit. It has everything to do with her incredibly skewed misconception of herself.
For those of us in the world that figure if we're a reasonable weight we're fine, the typical female's perception of her fatness is utterly obnoxious and irritating. Unfortunately, there is no way to respond to a girl when she says "I'm FAT!" that will convince her otherwise. Once a woman has determined she is fat, she is hopelessly fat and there is no chance of persuading her otherwise.
So, what is a girl to do when she is stuck in a dorm full of whiny, skinny women whose constant cry is, "I'm SO FAT!!!"? Personally, I'm contemplating one of the following solutions:
1. replying: Yes, you are a cow.
2. rolling my eyes
3. quietly handing them a box of donuts so they really do get fat.
4. Gibb's slapping them.
5. Hand them a girdle.
6. Giving them such dirty looks that they start to cry.
7. Throw carrots at them.
8. Start eating a chocolate bar, just to taunt them.
9. Start gloating about how "skinny" I am and about all the delicious fattening foods I eat. (the hope being that they'll get so mad with me that they'll go away.)
10. Say, "Shut up and do something about it!"
11. Start screaming and don't stop until she goes away.
What do you think? Any suggestions are welcome! :o)
According to most female minds - she is fat. She could weigh nothing and she would still be fat. A woman is always fat. Always. And no matter how many times another girl tells her she is thin (and I dare say even a guy can tell her as much and she won't care) she is still fat.
Skinny or thin is consistently one to ten pounds less than whatever a girl currently weighs. It doesn't matter whether or not her current weight is perfectly healthy and she looks fabulous - thin is one to ten pounds away. Girls can only manage to be thin for one, maybe two days in a row, and "thin days" have nothing to do with weight, but perceived skinniness.
Her friends are thin. Even if it her friend who is three inches shorter, weighs ten pounds more,
wears bigger clothes, and could stand to lose a few - she is thin. Always thin. She always looks just fine just the way she is. Now, if said friend decides to take off five or ten pounds the girl may say something like, "No, I think you look fine just the way you are, but if you are only losing like five or ten pounds, that's not a big deal. Either way, you'll look great!" The only way a girl's friends are fatter than her is if they are substantially overweight, and even then they only need to "lose a few pounds". Unless her friend looks comparable to Violet Beauregard, she is not fat.The crucial thing to understand here is that everything to do with the "fatness" or "skinniness" of any given girl (within a healthy average weight range) is all in her head. It has almost nothing to do with the scale or the way her clothes fit. It has everything to do with her incredibly skewed misconception of herself.
For those of us in the world that figure if we're a reasonable weight we're fine, the typical female's perception of her fatness is utterly obnoxious and irritating. Unfortunately, there is no way to respond to a girl when she says "I'm FAT!" that will convince her otherwise. Once a woman has determined she is fat, she is hopelessly fat and there is no chance of persuading her otherwise.
So, what is a girl to do when she is stuck in a dorm full of whiny, skinny women whose constant cry is, "I'm SO FAT!!!"? Personally, I'm contemplating one of the following solutions:
1. replying: Yes, you are a cow.
2. rolling my eyes
3. quietly handing them a box of donuts so they really do get fat.
4. Gibb's slapping them.
5. Hand them a girdle.
6. Giving them such dirty looks that they start to cry.
7. Throw carrots at them.
8. Start eating a chocolate bar, just to taunt them.
9. Start gloating about how "skinny" I am and about all the delicious fattening foods I eat. (the hope being that they'll get so mad with me that they'll go away.)
10. Say, "Shut up and do something about it!"
11. Start screaming and don't stop until she goes away.
What do you think? Any suggestions are welcome! :o)
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Posting... because I can...
Well you dear blog, you! You are just over four years old and I totally didn't mark the anniversary! Come next summer, you will have survived college with me.
I will be heading to my thirteenth Artist Series come tomorrow night. To answer your questions - no, I do not have a date. I never have a date because nobody ever asks.
This being said, I will be wearing an awesome outfit tomorrow night. It is... slightly unorthodox in that no shawl, bolero, shrug, wrap, or sweater will be worn with it. *GASP!* If I can get my make up to look how I am hoping it will look, it will be AWESOME! Possibly ground breaking. If nothing else, it should look original.
I plan on wearing a fuller satiny cocktail length black skirt with a red top that has sorta-cap-sleeved (the sleeves on this stick out in a very... sharp way...) with a scalloped hem. I plan on wearing my thick black belt with the top. For earrings, my spirally gold looking ones. For a necklace - the original thin black satin belt converted into a choker. hehehe! Shoes - a pair of killer red platform sling backs with a red satin flower on the open toe and gold on the platform sole and heel. They are amazing! The twist to the outfit is going to be the black long sleeved shirt I'm wearing under the scary stick out cap sleeves. This is going to give the outfit an interesting twist. I'm thinking perhaps just the slightest bit punky, but whatever. It'll be different!
Besides my punky outfit, there is not much new or interesting in my life at the moment. Besides the fact I think I have finally settled on how I want to make my nouns plural. Next I'll work on possessive and then I'll start looking over my verbs.
For the record - iTunes seems to have a knack for finding the most uninteresting 30 second clips of songs to play for preview.
I will be heading to my thirteenth Artist Series come tomorrow night. To answer your questions - no, I do not have a date. I never have a date because nobody ever asks.
This being said, I will be wearing an awesome outfit tomorrow night. It is... slightly unorthodox in that no shawl, bolero, shrug, wrap, or sweater will be worn with it. *GASP!* If I can get my make up to look how I am hoping it will look, it will be AWESOME! Possibly ground breaking. If nothing else, it should look original.
I plan on wearing a fuller satiny cocktail length black skirt with a red top that has sorta-cap-sleeved (the sleeves on this stick out in a very... sharp way...) with a scalloped hem. I plan on wearing my thick black belt with the top. For earrings, my spirally gold looking ones. For a necklace - the original thin black satin belt converted into a choker. hehehe! Shoes - a pair of killer red platform sling backs with a red satin flower on the open toe and gold on the platform sole and heel. They are amazing! The twist to the outfit is going to be the black long sleeved shirt I'm wearing under the scary stick out cap sleeves. This is going to give the outfit an interesting twist. I'm thinking perhaps just the slightest bit punky, but whatever. It'll be different!
Besides my punky outfit, there is not much new or interesting in my life at the moment. Besides the fact I think I have finally settled on how I want to make my nouns plural. Next I'll work on possessive and then I'll start looking over my verbs.
For the record - iTunes seems to have a knack for finding the most uninteresting 30 second clips of songs to play for preview.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
A Very probably-should-have-happened-sooner kind of post
And that title is way too long but I like it, so deal. Anyway! The Christmas season is officially upon us, with snow threatening to fall as much as eight inches deep (though, I suspect it will be more before long) and all Ni! students campused. To add to my seasonal delight I recently learned that my door won the hall Christmas door decorating contest, which makes a very very happy girl!
I've been mulling this over for... well, since the start of this blog, and I have reached the very shaky decision of starting to post some of my poetry on it. This decision was swayed by another blog called RhymeWritteninRed and Alexandra.
Before I post one rhyme however, let me first explain something about poets (or at least this poet) and poetry: most people are under this delusional impression that poems are just these boring things that rhyme and make you want to say them in a sing-song voice. Some people even seem to equate poetry with rap. This insults me.
Poetry, for me at any rate, is how I express my feelings when something has touched me deeply. Indisputably, anything deserving to be called a poem, is a blend of rhyme, meter, and emotion; crafted in such a way that the reader has no choice to but to be drawn in and held captive in a dream-like world as real or more so than the one in which we live. But this is just the good poetry. Most of the stuff of mine I'll put up I would, by my own definition, be forced to call a rhyme, and naught more. However, for the hang of it, I'll call it poetry... to flatter myself...
My poems are how I view the world or saw something at a given moment. They are an extension of who I am... well, more like me; and I take them quite seriously. So whereas I do not mind you giving a critique of the rhyme scheme or pointing out where the meter had a hiccup - I beg you please do not laugh at the topic (about it, if it is humorous is obviously fine, but no mockery, I beg!) because, "...I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams." - Yeats.
I'd explain this more, but quite frankly there are not words to describe how insanely personal my poetry is (and sadly you the reader will probably never understand or pick up on the finer, underlying threads that reveal it. This is not to insult your reading comprehension, rather to ironically and idiotically highlight how cryptic I can be.).
Oh, and for the record - any idiot who attempts to rip off my poetry will be hunted down like the dog that he or she is and then will be drawn and quartered and have their entrails taken out and hot coals put in, in their stead. :o)
Without further ado, a poem:
I've been mulling this over for... well, since the start of this blog, and I have reached the very shaky decision of starting to post some of my poetry on it. This decision was swayed by another blog called RhymeWritteninRed and Alexandra.
Before I post one rhyme however, let me first explain something about poets (or at least this poet) and poetry: most people are under this delusional impression that poems are just these boring things that rhyme and make you want to say them in a sing-song voice. Some people even seem to equate poetry with rap. This insults me.
Poetry, for me at any rate, is how I express my feelings when something has touched me deeply. Indisputably, anything deserving to be called a poem, is a blend of rhyme, meter, and emotion; crafted in such a way that the reader has no choice to but to be drawn in and held captive in a dream-like world as real or more so than the one in which we live. But this is just the good poetry. Most of the stuff of mine I'll put up I would, by my own definition, be forced to call a rhyme, and naught more. However, for the hang of it, I'll call it poetry... to flatter myself...
My poems are how I view the world or saw something at a given moment. They are an extension of who I am... well, more like me; and I take them quite seriously. So whereas I do not mind you giving a critique of the rhyme scheme or pointing out where the meter had a hiccup - I beg you please do not laugh at the topic (about it, if it is humorous is obviously fine, but no mockery, I beg!) because, "...I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams." - Yeats.
I'd explain this more, but quite frankly there are not words to describe how insanely personal my poetry is (and sadly you the reader will probably never understand or pick up on the finer, underlying threads that reveal it. This is not to insult your reading comprehension, rather to ironically and idiotically highlight how cryptic I can be.).
Oh, and for the record - any idiot who attempts to rip off my poetry will be hunted down like the dog that he or she is and then will be drawn and quartered and have their entrails taken out and hot coals put in, in their stead. :o)
Without further ado, a poem:
World in Gloam
Falling shadow, mist and shade
Dreams swirl in forgotten glade
Truth and tale mingle sweet
When in twilight's gloam they meet.
In twilight's gloam so dark and fair
Swirl ancient stories in the air
that seem to fade with passing night
But this is just illusions might.
Nothing is at it would seem
As if a dream within a dream.
But if tis so - tis more than if -
Then live we in a world of myth.
(9/4/2008)
So there it is. First poem I decided to put up on my blog for no real particular reason.
And now I am going to hastily publish this post before I change my mind...
And now I am editing this post because I see I have posted one before... Click on the tag to read it!
Falling shadow, mist and shade
Dreams swirl in forgotten glade
Truth and tale mingle sweet
When in twilight's gloam they meet.
In twilight's gloam so dark and fair
Swirl ancient stories in the air
that seem to fade with passing night
But this is just illusions might.
Nothing is at it would seem
As if a dream within a dream.
But if tis so - tis more than if -
Then live we in a world of myth.
(9/4/2008)
So there it is. First poem I decided to put up on my blog for no real particular reason.
And now I am going to hastily publish this post before I change my mind...
And now I am editing this post because I see I have posted one before... Click on the tag to read it!
Monday, October 19, 2009
Another Quick Update
We are now halfway through the semester. It has FLOWN by! I think I have the best room ever this year because we are all getting along really well. Happy Frank! To my elation and joy, the freshman roomie happens to be a poet! This makes me very excited and happy considering how much I love good poetry and how much I have written! I almost cried (in the screaming/yelling sense) for joy when I learned she was a poet. Do you have any idea how wonderful it is to have another soul to talk poetry with? Compare poetry, critique, discuss... rapturous! Now I just need a short story and book writer and my cup of writers joy shall be full! I have been three years without a writing kindred spirit around and I have forgotten how wonderful it is!
Classes have been insane and intense, but really good. I am enjoying all of them so far... even the ones I'm not so enthusiastic about are still interesting and practical, so I can't make any complaint.
Must run! I shall try to post longer and better about more interesting things soon!
Classes have been insane and intense, but really good. I am enjoying all of them so far... even the ones I'm not so enthusiastic about are still interesting and practical, so I can't make any complaint.
Must run! I shall try to post longer and better about more interesting things soon!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Quickie update: Week 1
First week done. Scheduling issues arose and have been (I believe) resolved. We are all moved in, the stuff put away, the junk in storage. Life is rolling. The poor freshman stuck with me and my two loony friends is assimilating quite nicely to us and life up here in the Great White North. Well, okay, we're just south of the Great White North, but we're still north and white most of the year, so it works.
Anyway, I experienced outrageous stress levels through most of last week, but they're down now to normal working levels and I'm happy.
Anyway, just a quick update. Nothing spectacular. But at least I'm here and I posted!
Anyway, I experienced outrageous stress levels through most of last week, but they're down now to normal working levels and I'm happy.
Anyway, just a quick update. Nothing spectacular. But at least I'm here and I posted!
Sunday, September 06, 2009
First days back...
Well, I'm back at school! The first days back have been crazy trying to get moved in. I can't say we're settled yet because we can't put our luggage and stuff in storage as yet, but we're getting there. I'm getting settled in to my top bunk. I've figured out a safe way to keep my new alarm clock up here, as well as how to keep my laptop nearby with out worries about it falling and dying.
Other than that... it's all been orientation and stuff. The real grind starts tomorrow.
Other than that... it's all been orientation and stuff. The real grind starts tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Quick Note:
I'm under construction as I switch around to a new format and stuuf. That's why the header is a bit... well...
Because I can!
Because I can and because I've been on a Josh Groban kick lately... enjoy!
Oh, and this one!
:o)
Watch more Josh Groban videos on AOL Video
Oh, and this one!
Watch more Yahoo! Music videos on AOL Video
:o)
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Tales from Farmacie - Part 3
Okay, I've finally gotten back to this epic story! Yay! Go me!
If you missed parts one and two, here they are!
Tales from Farmacie - Part 1
Tales from Farmacie - Part 2
--- --- --- Part 3 --- --- ---
"A pen pal?" echoed the royal twins.
"Yes, a pen pal," repeated the tutor.
The idea was so utterly normal it almost seemed absurd.
"How would we go about finding one?"
"Let me worry about that," the tutor answered.
After that days lessons the tutor immediately drafted a letter and sent a copy of it to each and every person in the kingdom that had a title or an ounce of blue blood in their veins. The letter asked if the respective ruler would be so kind as to allow the royal children to write to their children.
The letters were sent with the fastest horsemen to every corner of the kingdom where a royalty laid their head at night and within a fortnight the answers began coming back. The tutor was dismayed at the replies which generally read something like this:
Dear Tutor Ridalyn,
We are pleased to see that the Royal tutor has thought of our children worthy enough to write to the dear prince and princess. However, we are ashamed and regret to inform you that our child is ____ (illiterate, away on holiday, at their aunt's, at their grandmother's, out of town, out of the country, terminally ill with the plague, recently lost their writing hand, etc.). We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you. Perhaps (the ruler in the next province)'s children are able to write.
Signed,
(Enter rulers name here)
After the first few letters the tutor realized that they were afraid to allow their children to write. As it stood, the general rumor amongst the aristocracy was that whatever curse was upon the royal children was transferable to anyone if they got too close. The tutor did not learn this until several days after the first letters arrived and only after he, in a moment of frustration demanded an answer of the chamber maid. The fact that everyone was so superstitious bothered him greatly, but there was nothing he could do about that. What he could do, however, was reach out to the community where perhaps such wild rumors hadn't spread as yet.
He approached the king with the proposal of letting a commoner write to his children and received a less than favorable response and ended up spending the night in the dungeon. The next morning however, the king saw this as a way to perhaps boost his image to the people and so released the tutor and let him send out the invitation.
To Ridalyn's dismay, the response of the commoners was hardly more enthusiastic than that of the aristocracy. Most of the replies came in the form of a sob story, and the ones that were not were plainly written by mayors and sheriffs who wished a promotion and favor and wrote with their left hand. Ridalyn was determined to find suitable pen pals for the royal children and so, in a moment of desperation, sent out messengers to the outer provinces where mostly farmers lived. Most of the messages had to be read to the farmers who then sadly had to reject the offer, but there were two replies that were written in return and delivered by owl.
Ridalyn was so delighted by the two replies that he immediately wrote back and attached the letter to the leg of the messenger owl and sent them on their way.
"My children, I have found pen pals for the both of you!" Ridalyn announced one day at the start of lessons.
"REally?!"
"Truly?!"
"Really and truly! I have granted them permission and you are to begin writing immediately. Now, I'd like you to write a letter about yourself, introducing yourself to your new penpal. Write the first draft now and the second draft after their first letter arrives."
Just then a messenger owl tapped at the window of the classroom. Ridalyn lept up and opened it and in flew the owl who flew of Morfine and dropped the note in her lap then flew back to the windowsill and sat.
Morfine read through the letter three times and then proceeded to write her first draft. Codine waited patiently for his letter to arrive, and his patience was rewarded when a second owl flew in and dropped the letter in his lap.
Ridalyn smiled as the royal children read their letters and wrote back. This was the happiest they had been since Beneidryll took a holiday.
... to be continued...
If you missed parts one and two, here they are!
Tales from Farmacie - Part 1
Tales from Farmacie - Part 2
--- --- --- Part 3 --- --- ---
"A pen pal?" echoed the royal twins.
"Yes, a pen pal," repeated the tutor.
The idea was so utterly normal it almost seemed absurd.
"How would we go about finding one?"
"Let me worry about that," the tutor answered.
After that days lessons the tutor immediately drafted a letter and sent a copy of it to each and every person in the kingdom that had a title or an ounce of blue blood in their veins. The letter asked if the respective ruler would be so kind as to allow the royal children to write to their children.
The letters were sent with the fastest horsemen to every corner of the kingdom where a royalty laid their head at night and within a fortnight the answers began coming back. The tutor was dismayed at the replies which generally read something like this:
Dear Tutor Ridalyn,
We are pleased to see that the Royal tutor has thought of our children worthy enough to write to the dear prince and princess. However, we are ashamed and regret to inform you that our child is ____ (illiterate, away on holiday, at their aunt's, at their grandmother's, out of town, out of the country, terminally ill with the plague, recently lost their writing hand, etc.). We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you. Perhaps (the ruler in the next province)'s children are able to write.
Signed,
(Enter rulers name here)
After the first few letters the tutor realized that they were afraid to allow their children to write. As it stood, the general rumor amongst the aristocracy was that whatever curse was upon the royal children was transferable to anyone if they got too close. The tutor did not learn this until several days after the first letters arrived and only after he, in a moment of frustration demanded an answer of the chamber maid. The fact that everyone was so superstitious bothered him greatly, but there was nothing he could do about that. What he could do, however, was reach out to the community where perhaps such wild rumors hadn't spread as yet.
He approached the king with the proposal of letting a commoner write to his children and received a less than favorable response and ended up spending the night in the dungeon. The next morning however, the king saw this as a way to perhaps boost his image to the people and so released the tutor and let him send out the invitation.
To Ridalyn's dismay, the response of the commoners was hardly more enthusiastic than that of the aristocracy. Most of the replies came in the form of a sob story, and the ones that were not were plainly written by mayors and sheriffs who wished a promotion and favor and wrote with their left hand. Ridalyn was determined to find suitable pen pals for the royal children and so, in a moment of desperation, sent out messengers to the outer provinces where mostly farmers lived. Most of the messages had to be read to the farmers who then sadly had to reject the offer, but there were two replies that were written in return and delivered by owl.
Ridalyn was so delighted by the two replies that he immediately wrote back and attached the letter to the leg of the messenger owl and sent them on their way.
"My children, I have found pen pals for the both of you!" Ridalyn announced one day at the start of lessons.
"REally?!"
"Truly?!"
"Really and truly! I have granted them permission and you are to begin writing immediately. Now, I'd like you to write a letter about yourself, introducing yourself to your new penpal. Write the first draft now and the second draft after their first letter arrives."
Just then a messenger owl tapped at the window of the classroom. Ridalyn lept up and opened it and in flew the owl who flew of Morfine and dropped the note in her lap then flew back to the windowsill and sat.
Morfine read through the letter three times and then proceeded to write her first draft. Codine waited patiently for his letter to arrive, and his patience was rewarded when a second owl flew in and dropped the letter in his lap.
Ridalyn smiled as the royal children read their letters and wrote back. This was the happiest they had been since Beneidryll took a holiday.
... to be continued...
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Baby Steps
This is my attempt at trying to blog more regularly. I still don't have a life or much to blog about, but since blogs are often nothing but taken up web space, I blog on.
Oddly enough however, I actually have a number of things I wish to make comment on today!
First - Ted Kennedy's death. I would be glad he has finally, irrevocably been removed from the office of senator were it not for the fact I have very little faith in the liberal peoples of Massachusetts. If I thought it were impossible for them to elect a politician who was worse, I would indeed be... relieved. However, I do not underestimate the power of human stupidity so I shall not breathe that satisfying sigh of relief until they have elected someone better. My only hope at this point is that we won't be subjected to Michael Jackson-esque coverage. On that note, I hope Michael Jackson's coverage will FINALLY end.
Second - Ring hunting. It is difficult to find a ring that you actually like that is actually within your price range, and that is versatile. After several months of searching for a ring I have finally found and purchased a ring that I like. Well, technically it's three rings in one (which really made my day!), but since when do I quibble on technicalities? Don't answer that.
Third - Stupid politicians. I would say more than that, but unfortunately caps lock, point 72 font, bold, italics, and underlining does not convey how fed up, ticked off, and generally irate I am. That, and I don't use that kind of language.
Fourth - Comedy movies. Never in my life have I seen a string of such un-funny trailers for comedy movies! I'm not a fan of movies like "Dodge-ball" or "Meet the Spartans" but at least the trailers will have a few chuckle inducing clips. The trailer for "Funny People" was the most unfunny thing I've ever seen in my life, followed by a close second of the "Taking Woodstock" trailer. As a matter of fact, I thought the "Inglorious Basterds" trailer was much funnier. Watching Hitler say, "Nien! Nien! Nien!" over and over reminded me of that Carol Burnette skit with Tim Conway and the Hitler hand puppet. FUNNY stuff that!
In fact, lemme share the laughs with you:
Oddly enough however, I actually have a number of things I wish to make comment on today!
First - Ted Kennedy's death. I would be glad he has finally, irrevocably been removed from the office of senator were it not for the fact I have very little faith in the liberal peoples of Massachusetts. If I thought it were impossible for them to elect a politician who was worse, I would indeed be... relieved. However, I do not underestimate the power of human stupidity so I shall not breathe that satisfying sigh of relief until they have elected someone better. My only hope at this point is that we won't be subjected to Michael Jackson-esque coverage. On that note, I hope Michael Jackson's coverage will FINALLY end.
Second - Ring hunting. It is difficult to find a ring that you actually like that is actually within your price range, and that is versatile. After several months of searching for a ring I have finally found and purchased a ring that I like. Well, technically it's three rings in one (which really made my day!), but since when do I quibble on technicalities? Don't answer that.
Third - Stupid politicians. I would say more than that, but unfortunately caps lock, point 72 font, bold, italics, and underlining does not convey how fed up, ticked off, and generally irate I am. That, and I don't use that kind of language.
Fourth - Comedy movies. Never in my life have I seen a string of such un-funny trailers for comedy movies! I'm not a fan of movies like "Dodge-ball" or "Meet the Spartans" but at least the trailers will have a few chuckle inducing clips. The trailer for "Funny People" was the most unfunny thing I've ever seen in my life, followed by a close second of the "Taking Woodstock" trailer. As a matter of fact, I thought the "Inglorious Basterds" trailer was much funnier. Watching Hitler say, "Nien! Nien! Nien!" over and over reminded me of that Carol Burnette skit with Tim Conway and the Hitler hand puppet. FUNNY stuff that!
In fact, lemme share the laughs with you:
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Summer, Language, Nerdy
I was going to post more this year but I just keep forgetting to!
Well, another summer is almost gone, and sadly this is the last summer that will mean anything. That is, of course, assuming I never decide to teach. If I do teach, summers will be awesome again.
As is the case with most summers, this one did not last long enough! They almost never do, you know. But in spite of it being short, it's been busy! In the midst of watching BO (that is, Barack Obama) try to trick the American people into a flagrantly socialistic form of health care (and then finding out nobody likes the idea), weddings, work, plotting and planning trips to exotic locations and working on a large stack of books, I have some how managed to find time to do two things I love dearly - graphic art and working on my language.
Yes, you read that right.
I know, I know... I'm a nerd. A word nerd no less with a seemingly insatiable desire to learn/study ficticious and dead languages. Why, ask you? Because they're awesome! Dead languages are usually the grand-daddy's of modern languages, which makes studying the evolution pretty sweet. That, and if you understand the language, it helps you understand the culture and religion of any given society. Since I like studying societies too... well, you see the draw. As for ficticious languages - same rules apply, but only in a more glaringly nerdy way.
As for working on my language - it has a name, but I'm not sure I'm going to keep it. I may end up renaming the whole language and people group to which it goes before it's all said and done... but I digress.
The reason for even embarking on the whole endeavor is strangely similar to the reason I picked my major - writing. I decided that no decent ficticious world would be complete with out at least some sort of scrap of a language to go with it. Thus, when I started creating this little world 7 or so years ago (I don't exactly remember when the chaos started) I drew a map and set about a language. Seven years of language writing has produced a workable calendar complete with names for the months (but no holidays as yet), days of the week, runes for most of the alphabet, a (recently created) set of numbers, along with a few random words and phrases (none of which are set in stone). In addition to all this I have scraps of phonetics and grammar, sentence structure, and the beginnings of conjugations and tenses spread out throughout my ever growing stack of language stuff.
It's a headache and a half sometimes but I am enjoying the journey immensly.
The one notably tricky thing about creating a language from wishful thinking and imagination, is that once you start creating even a basic language, the thing comes alive and starts going crazy instantly. If you don't start out with some sort of structure in mind in the first place, you wind up with a crazy, half wild beast like the one I have. I have lists of words, but once I figure out conjugations and tenses and such, I have to go through my word lists and figure out what I have to fix.
Fortunately though, I do not believe I'll have to create a massive vocabulary for this language. I'm fairly well convinced that for my purposes I will not need to create more than a 'survival' vocabulary. The focus of this endeavor is language structure.
In the mean time, I'm still grappling with the question of - do I want my verbs to be like Spanish and have a basic form which means 'to do something', or do I want to be like English where the unconjugated verbs look like imperatives?
I've spent weeks and will spend many more weeks studying the grammars and sentence structures of various languages before I come to a conclusion.
Irony.
I know, I know! It sounds like I'm so busy on a side note to a greater body of work that I'll never get to actually writing a book, but that's simply not the case. The fact of the matter is, it is much easier to work on a language while being a full time student, than it is to work on a story. A story requires a massive amount of plotting, character development, and coherant ideas - all of which are things that require a lot of time that is not there while taking classes at college. Language writing however... while it does require a lot of thought, time, and etc. most of that can take place in your head and whenever you have a spare second. The hardest part, at least so far, has been coming to a decision on how I want to do something. Actual execution doesn't take very long. Most of my language stuff has been done on scraps of paper and while fighting off sleep during chapel or killing time between classes, or even at work. So once you figure out that you want all your present tense verbs to end in "-le" in the formal you form, you simply throw an -le on the end of the verb and go. See how easy that is? It's getting to that point that's the bear. Once you do though, a quick jot down on a scrap of paper and it's done, needing only transfering to the file where all the language stuff is kept.
Well, now that I've rambled on forever and proved my nerdiness, let me add a layer by saying I lament not being more strict with my 'poem-a-week' goal for this year. Where as I have written several this year, it hardly reflects the number of weeks gone by. Ah well, I believe it is more than I wrote last year, so I shan't complain too much. Though, I am almost certain I've written several poems that haven't been transfered to the computer yet, and are therefore unrecorded... now I just need to find the critters and get them put somewhere a little safer than a random notebook or bullatin back.
Ugh! I've been lacking on my calligraphy too! But that takes an exhorbitant amount of time if you really want to do it right... and even longer if you mean to put it on display or sell it... I've been asked to do a calligraphy piece for the living room, but I haven't found a text I wanted to do or the time in which to do it. I'm afraid by the time I manage to get back to calligraphy again I'll be so long unpractised I'll basically have to start over. Bah!
Oh, did you notice the music player posted at the top of the page? I'm sure you couldn't have missed it. I don't think anyone actually reads this blog, but if anyone does and wants to take a listen, please do! I love music and I love sharing it.
Anyway, now that I have thoroughly bored you, I'll close and try to think of something more interesting to blog about in the nearish future.
... I tried to think of a witty way to end this or find some awesome quote or something, but in the end all I could think of was...
TTFN! Ta-ta for now!
Well, another summer is almost gone, and sadly this is the last summer that will mean anything. That is, of course, assuming I never decide to teach. If I do teach, summers will be awesome again.
As is the case with most summers, this one did not last long enough! They almost never do, you know. But in spite of it being short, it's been busy! In the midst of watching BO (that is, Barack Obama) try to trick the American people into a flagrantly socialistic form of health care (and then finding out nobody likes the idea), weddings, work, plotting and planning trips to exotic locations and working on a large stack of books, I have some how managed to find time to do two things I love dearly - graphic art and working on my language.
Yes, you read that right.
I know, I know... I'm a nerd. A word nerd no less with a seemingly insatiable desire to learn/study ficticious and dead languages. Why, ask you? Because they're awesome! Dead languages are usually the grand-daddy's of modern languages, which makes studying the evolution pretty sweet. That, and if you understand the language, it helps you understand the culture and religion of any given society. Since I like studying societies too... well, you see the draw. As for ficticious languages - same rules apply, but only in a more glaringly nerdy way.
As for working on my language - it has a name, but I'm not sure I'm going to keep it. I may end up renaming the whole language and people group to which it goes before it's all said and done... but I digress.
The reason for even embarking on the whole endeavor is strangely similar to the reason I picked my major - writing. I decided that no decent ficticious world would be complete with out at least some sort of scrap of a language to go with it. Thus, when I started creating this little world 7 or so years ago (I don't exactly remember when the chaos started) I drew a map and set about a language. Seven years of language writing has produced a workable calendar complete with names for the months (but no holidays as yet), days of the week, runes for most of the alphabet, a (recently created) set of numbers, along with a few random words and phrases (none of which are set in stone). In addition to all this I have scraps of phonetics and grammar, sentence structure, and the beginnings of conjugations and tenses spread out throughout my ever growing stack of language stuff.
It's a headache and a half sometimes but I am enjoying the journey immensly.
The one notably tricky thing about creating a language from wishful thinking and imagination, is that once you start creating even a basic language, the thing comes alive and starts going crazy instantly. If you don't start out with some sort of structure in mind in the first place, you wind up with a crazy, half wild beast like the one I have. I have lists of words, but once I figure out conjugations and tenses and such, I have to go through my word lists and figure out what I have to fix.
Fortunately though, I do not believe I'll have to create a massive vocabulary for this language. I'm fairly well convinced that for my purposes I will not need to create more than a 'survival' vocabulary. The focus of this endeavor is language structure.
In the mean time, I'm still grappling with the question of - do I want my verbs to be like Spanish and have a basic form which means 'to do something', or do I want to be like English where the unconjugated verbs look like imperatives?
I've spent weeks and will spend many more weeks studying the grammars and sentence structures of various languages before I come to a conclusion.
Irony.
I know, I know! It sounds like I'm so busy on a side note to a greater body of work that I'll never get to actually writing a book, but that's simply not the case. The fact of the matter is, it is much easier to work on a language while being a full time student, than it is to work on a story. A story requires a massive amount of plotting, character development, and coherant ideas - all of which are things that require a lot of time that is not there while taking classes at college. Language writing however... while it does require a lot of thought, time, and etc. most of that can take place in your head and whenever you have a spare second. The hardest part, at least so far, has been coming to a decision on how I want to do something. Actual execution doesn't take very long. Most of my language stuff has been done on scraps of paper and while fighting off sleep during chapel or killing time between classes, or even at work. So once you figure out that you want all your present tense verbs to end in "-le" in the formal you form, you simply throw an -le on the end of the verb and go. See how easy that is? It's getting to that point that's the bear. Once you do though, a quick jot down on a scrap of paper and it's done, needing only transfering to the file where all the language stuff is kept.
Well, now that I've rambled on forever and proved my nerdiness, let me add a layer by saying I lament not being more strict with my 'poem-a-week' goal for this year. Where as I have written several this year, it hardly reflects the number of weeks gone by. Ah well, I believe it is more than I wrote last year, so I shan't complain too much. Though, I am almost certain I've written several poems that haven't been transfered to the computer yet, and are therefore unrecorded... now I just need to find the critters and get them put somewhere a little safer than a random notebook or bullatin back.
Ugh! I've been lacking on my calligraphy too! But that takes an exhorbitant amount of time if you really want to do it right... and even longer if you mean to put it on display or sell it... I've been asked to do a calligraphy piece for the living room, but I haven't found a text I wanted to do or the time in which to do it. I'm afraid by the time I manage to get back to calligraphy again I'll be so long unpractised I'll basically have to start over. Bah!
Oh, did you notice the music player posted at the top of the page? I'm sure you couldn't have missed it. I don't think anyone actually reads this blog, but if anyone does and wants to take a listen, please do! I love music and I love sharing it.
Anyway, now that I have thoroughly bored you, I'll close and try to think of something more interesting to blog about in the nearish future.
... I tried to think of a witty way to end this or find some awesome quote or something, but in the end all I could think of was...
TTFN! Ta-ta for now!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Call Me What You Will...
... but I just don't care. If you want to label me, fine. I'm a fundamentalist, I'm a Baptist, I'm a three and a half point Calvinist (not quite sold on the whole 'irresistable grace' thing). I'm a teetotaler, I'm a radical right wing conservative. I'm a half nerd, I'm a music junkie. I'm a free thinker *GASP!*.
You can throw labels at me and on me all day long and they may sort of help you figure out who and what I am, or give you clues into what I think, but I've got news: It doesn't work.
So much of life gets caught up in stupid arguments over meaningless terms. Terms and words don't matter. The thoughts and actions behind them do. Look at Obama. He said "change" and we have seen change, but it wasn't what we were thinking, it was what he was thinking and what he has done that has indeed 'changed' us from bad to worse.
Sacred circles are perhaps the worst about these sort of things. Christians divide themselves and bicker and seperate from each other over terms. They say the exact same thing, but the terms are different and so they divide. They do not look at what God said, they simply know what some preacher told them and that's it and they stay hooked to rhetoric of which they know nothing of the source. "I'm an independent fundamental baptist" they say and will disagree and separate from anyone who goes to a "First Church of Somewhere" or "Somewhere Church". The doctrine is the same between the First Baptist Church and the First Church of Somewhere, but one isn't called Baptist and so they divide.
It's sad, it's ridiculous, but there it is.
I'd call for us to just lay aside the terms and look at what people are actually saying. I'd call for people to go back to Scripture. To go back to the thoughts and actions that form the terms and hold to that. But I know I'm only one small voice. I know nobody will listen. So I'm not going to bother. Go on, keep dividing over terms. Keep being violent towards your brothers and sisters over terms and labels.
Go ahead, ask me what I am. I'll give you labels. You'll agree or disagree because I know what terms to use, but in ideology we may be as different as night and day, just using the same words. But hey, do whatever makes you happy.
Keep using your labels and having your arguments over words. Just leave me out of it.
You can throw labels at me and on me all day long and they may sort of help you figure out who and what I am, or give you clues into what I think, but I've got news: It doesn't work.
So much of life gets caught up in stupid arguments over meaningless terms. Terms and words don't matter. The thoughts and actions behind them do. Look at Obama. He said "change" and we have seen change, but it wasn't what we were thinking, it was what he was thinking and what he has done that has indeed 'changed' us from bad to worse.
Sacred circles are perhaps the worst about these sort of things. Christians divide themselves and bicker and seperate from each other over terms. They say the exact same thing, but the terms are different and so they divide. They do not look at what God said, they simply know what some preacher told them and that's it and they stay hooked to rhetoric of which they know nothing of the source. "I'm an independent fundamental baptist" they say and will disagree and separate from anyone who goes to a "First Church of Somewhere" or "Somewhere Church". The doctrine is the same between the First Baptist Church and the First Church of Somewhere, but one isn't called Baptist and so they divide.
It's sad, it's ridiculous, but there it is.
I'd call for us to just lay aside the terms and look at what people are actually saying. I'd call for people to go back to Scripture. To go back to the thoughts and actions that form the terms and hold to that. But I know I'm only one small voice. I know nobody will listen. So I'm not going to bother. Go on, keep dividing over terms. Keep being violent towards your brothers and sisters over terms and labels.
Go ahead, ask me what I am. I'll give you labels. You'll agree or disagree because I know what terms to use, but in ideology we may be as different as night and day, just using the same words. But hey, do whatever makes you happy.
Keep using your labels and having your arguments over words. Just leave me out of it.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Oh you poor neglected blog...
Well, I should have changed my header from the snow theme by now, but considering it is still snowing outside, maybe it isn't so out of place.
This sad blog has been badly neglected! I said Merry Christmas and abandoned it. Well, to sum up how this year has gone so far:
1. I played the role of Feste in "Twelfth Night"
2. I turned 21!
3. I watched one friend get engaged and then proceeded to become her maid of honor
4. I watched the other single room-mate all but start dating
5. I have officially written over 150 poems (I broke the 150 mark a couple weeks ago)
All in all, not bad for four months work.
Now, to the point of me even remembering this blog - The Laws of Etiquette and Dating.
I'm well aware that there are laws governing the behaviour of gentlemen and ladies. I am also well aware that most of them are lost on the younger generations. I, being the young whipper-snapper I am, have been raised with to use sense and follow the broader and general guidelines of conduct and etiquette, but I have also grown up in a post-feminazi movement world and therefore my idea of how men ought to treat women they are dating is perhaps a bit skewed.
Please allow me a moment to re-trace my thinking on the subject so you can perhaps understand my conclusion.
It all started in watching countless men on campus carrying pink backpacks, oversized purses, and other bags for their girlfriends. I didn't pay very much attention to it though until one morning I had the rare privelege of watching my friend's fiancee walk half the campus out of his way so he could take his beloved's bag from her. My initial response was that it was utterly ridiculous and absurd that he should inconvenience himself by walking so far out of his way. If he would have waited to where the sidewalks met and taken it that would have been a little better in my mind.
With that, I started pondering the proper protocol for such things. Surely he was being extreme and love struck ridiculous. Surely! After mulling over it a few days I hit the internet and began researching gentleman's etiquette.
I found nothing about whether or not men should carry a lady's backpack, but I did discover Victorian etiquette and then recalled things I had seen in old movies and read in old books.
If memory serves correctly, a gentleman should always help a lady when he sees she is carrying something large and/or heavy. Weighing in what I did find about Victorian etiquette, I believe a man would have volunteered to carry something large and heavy before a woman could attempt to pick it up. If he didn't see her til after she had it in her arms, he would insist on taking it from her. Chivelrous and commendable.
I then compared that to the behaviour of modern men (on campus in particular) and have come to the general conclusion that men who do so are the exception, not the norm. (Unless of course you're carrying a large stack of costumes that look like they're about to fall. Then most of them will offer help.)
This lead me to the question of whether or not I would let my boyfriend (hypothetically speaking, for you see I am single) carry my backpack for me. My current conclusion is this: If he has proven himself a gentlemen towards other ladies and offers to help them with heavy bags, boxes, books, and so forth, then yes. If he walks past girls struggling to stand up-right for how heavy their school bag is and couldn't care less whether or not she can barely hold the enormous box she must carry, then most certainly not!
Why, you ask? Simply put - I like consistency. If he is consistantly a gentleman in that area then I have no problem with it because I know he is simply doing it to be a gentleman and not just out of affection for me. If he is not, then I (being the wary and cynical old maid that I now am) am apt to get very suspicious if he suddenly turns into Mr. Darcy and will just as likely think he's buttering me up as anything. As well, I have a generally held belief (based on observations and general patterns of human behaviour) that a man (or woman) will do all sorts of crazy things while dating to secure affections that he (or she) have no intention of continuing after the wedding. I would hate to get used to being treated like a delicate flower to turn into a pack mule later.
Am I saying my opinion is right/should be adopted by women everywhere? No. I'm considering this a matter of sheer preference and opinion of lowly blogger.
For as decided as I am however, this opinion is only preliminary and not cemented just yet. Therefore any comments, feedback, opposing arguements, etc. are appreciated. (Arguements are welcomed, but I suggest they be good arguements and well backed if you wish for me to take them seriously.)
This sad blog has been badly neglected! I said Merry Christmas and abandoned it. Well, to sum up how this year has gone so far:
1. I played the role of Feste in "Twelfth Night"
2. I turned 21!
3. I watched one friend get engaged and then proceeded to become her maid of honor
4. I watched the other single room-mate all but start dating
5. I have officially written over 150 poems (I broke the 150 mark a couple weeks ago)
All in all, not bad for four months work.
Now, to the point of me even remembering this blog - The Laws of Etiquette and Dating.
I'm well aware that there are laws governing the behaviour of gentlemen and ladies. I am also well aware that most of them are lost on the younger generations. I, being the young whipper-snapper I am, have been raised with to use sense and follow the broader and general guidelines of conduct and etiquette, but I have also grown up in a post-feminazi movement world and therefore my idea of how men ought to treat women they are dating is perhaps a bit skewed.
Please allow me a moment to re-trace my thinking on the subject so you can perhaps understand my conclusion.
It all started in watching countless men on campus carrying pink backpacks, oversized purses, and other bags for their girlfriends. I didn't pay very much attention to it though until one morning I had the rare privelege of watching my friend's fiancee walk half the campus out of his way so he could take his beloved's bag from her. My initial response was that it was utterly ridiculous and absurd that he should inconvenience himself by walking so far out of his way. If he would have waited to where the sidewalks met and taken it that would have been a little better in my mind.
With that, I started pondering the proper protocol for such things. Surely he was being extreme and love struck ridiculous. Surely! After mulling over it a few days I hit the internet and began researching gentleman's etiquette.
I found nothing about whether or not men should carry a lady's backpack, but I did discover Victorian etiquette and then recalled things I had seen in old movies and read in old books.
If memory serves correctly, a gentleman should always help a lady when he sees she is carrying something large and/or heavy. Weighing in what I did find about Victorian etiquette, I believe a man would have volunteered to carry something large and heavy before a woman could attempt to pick it up. If he didn't see her til after she had it in her arms, he would insist on taking it from her. Chivelrous and commendable.
I then compared that to the behaviour of modern men (on campus in particular) and have come to the general conclusion that men who do so are the exception, not the norm. (Unless of course you're carrying a large stack of costumes that look like they're about to fall. Then most of them will offer help.)
This lead me to the question of whether or not I would let my boyfriend (hypothetically speaking, for you see I am single) carry my backpack for me. My current conclusion is this: If he has proven himself a gentlemen towards other ladies and offers to help them with heavy bags, boxes, books, and so forth, then yes. If he walks past girls struggling to stand up-right for how heavy their school bag is and couldn't care less whether or not she can barely hold the enormous box she must carry, then most certainly not!
Why, you ask? Simply put - I like consistency. If he is consistantly a gentleman in that area then I have no problem with it because I know he is simply doing it to be a gentleman and not just out of affection for me. If he is not, then I (being the wary and cynical old maid that I now am) am apt to get very suspicious if he suddenly turns into Mr. Darcy and will just as likely think he's buttering me up as anything. As well, I have a generally held belief (based on observations and general patterns of human behaviour) that a man (or woman) will do all sorts of crazy things while dating to secure affections that he (or she) have no intention of continuing after the wedding. I would hate to get used to being treated like a delicate flower to turn into a pack mule later.
Am I saying my opinion is right/should be adopted by women everywhere? No. I'm considering this a matter of sheer preference and opinion of lowly blogger.
For as decided as I am however, this opinion is only preliminary and not cemented just yet. Therefore any comments, feedback, opposing arguements, etc. are appreciated. (Arguements are welcomed, but I suggest they be good arguements and well backed if you wish for me to take them seriously.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)