Sorority Priority

Well, I've been told I should post this. It's a rough draft of a satirical article I wrote a couple of days ago. Just a heads up warning, this is SATIRE. So it should be funny, offensive and totally wrong. So if you're easily offended, skip this post. Don't worry, I won't take offense.

     Girls, if you're not in a sorority, you don't have a life in college
     Well, arguably, not true. But that's certainly the image that gets shopped around. But then again, I know next to nothing about sororities in the first place. No, scratch that. I know nothing about sororities which makes me the perfect outsider perspective.
     Let's talk stereotype: Blond, generally tanned and add to that a stunning capacity for pulling a supermodel look on a regular basis as well as a shockingly low grade point average and we have ourselves a perfect picture.
     These are the people I can instantly classify as “Sorority girl” just by looking. Apparently, if you know anything about sororities, you can tell which ones they're in, too.
     I remain amazed at how much sorority girls spend on their hair, their make-up, their clothes – and it's not just time, people. Let's be brutally honest about it. It's the girls with Daddy's bankroll that make a big splash with their three hundred dollar heels and their high class trash dresses. It's almost as bad as celebrities who show up on the red carpet with $3,000 designer jeans that look like they came from the local Salvation Army. They're the local pretend celebrities who harness much more attention than they're worth. I've gotta wonder about parental priorities when it comes to that.
     I mean, really? You want to finance your daughter to finding socially shallow “sister-for-life” girlfriends at college and spending a good three quarters of her time worrying about what her “sisters” think? You want her flirting with boys who most likely don't care about her, or her dress, but rather how fast they can get her out of it? Let's be honest, that's not life experience nor can it be claimed as such on any kind of job application.
And then there's the lack of social creativity. Doing something? If you're a sorority girl, most likely you're going to be doing it with your sisters and therefore other casual social acquaintances can't be involved. Which makes for a limited social circle, if you ask me.
     What about common good-bye's? The latest fashion trend for sororities, it seems, is to tell all your sisters that you love them. But, as one acquaintance told me, “it's, like, an obsessive love. They're always obsessively saying that they love their sisters. Every time they see one of their sisters they tell them, 'Love you!' and stuff. It's kind of creepy.”
     I was recently asked by a sorority girl what I did for a night out. My prompt response: “I went on a blind date.” This was met with amazement and wonder and lauded as gutsy. Apparently, not being part of a sorority actually allows me to hang out with more guys. What a shocker since I thought sorority girls always had dibs on the hot guys. Somehow I wind up with the hot “Prince Charmings” who are somehow not Frat boys. And they're Prince Charming to boot. Maybe I'm just lucky.
     But I'll get real—I don't have much of a social life if you really want to get right down to it. When people ask me about my life, I generally tell them, “A day with no class does not mean a day with no studying. I am student therefore I am not entitled to a life.” Classification: Student—person who spends more time than is healthy studying, worrying and generally being an over-achiever.
     Classification: Sorority Girl? Completely different. They're not in college, for a start. Nor are they students. They're at college being social butterflies that somehow wind up in class from time to time looking naively studious (I'm thinking Legally Blond, here: It's not that they're not smart, but their priorities are different, people). They spend more time on social events than is healthy and generally have sunny dispositions. Party or study for that final? Party almost always gets priority.

Illusory Memory

Yeah, so y'all are getting another poem. I don't really know what to think of this one. It came out in a matter of minutes pretty much fully-fledged and kicking. Have a go at it:

Illusory Memory

There's a tradition

that makes me close my eyes—

tilt my head toward a half-remembered,

half-forgotten,

never-happened-to-me

tradition

An instilling in my short life

the bells of the cathedral

the beads of the rosary

the reading of the Torah

the lighting of the menorah

the rug of the Muslim

the call to prayer

There's a tradition

I've never known

that makes me lid my eyes

in thought

back to ancient days I can

not remember

never remember—

and yet . . .

a Man on a throne

a Man on a throne

a Man on a throne in

a far away place

expansive royal robe

drawn tired Face.

youthful and majestic but

dejected and sad

He lovingly administrates

all in His Hands

but this afternoon –

this particular day

finds Him quiet

alone –

in a far away place.

a God dreaming Dreams in

late afternoon sunshine

His Head buried deep

in the crook of one Arm.

was there a time

and a people

in a faraway place

that love Him so very much?

He dreams Godly Dreams

on His great stone throne.

a dark marble floor stretches

away –

the galaxies its pattern

– and He dreams . . .

before a touch on the Shoulder,

a gentle word

a straightening of robe and crown

a scepter retrieved

before the courtiers

flood in

carefully sidestepping

Worlds

to advise, compromise, administrate

Worlds

for a Man on a throne

in a far away place.

The picture that would go with this is a painting by Maxfield Parrish called King of the Black Isles. You can see it here: http://www.artpassions.net/galleries/parrish/arabian_nights/parrish_king_of_black_isles.jpg

Thoughts from School and Other Fun Stuff

I'm the worst kind of blogger or whatever you want to call it. I just post . . . whenever. The latest has some fun stuff, though, so keep reading. :) This piece I'm including was for class but turned into “just for fun.” Take a moment and peruse. If you know me, you'll know this is me. In a nutty nutshell.

Thoughts from a Modern Romantic

I am a romantic. I choose this word to name me. I choose from among several possibilities, the most closely descriptive of which are “Walter Mitty” or “idealist.” I made my choice some time ago, unaware of my motives for doing so. People tend to give me strange looks when I bust that into a conversation. Perhaps as the word floats by they conjure up images of whimsical, lace, and long tearful good-byes that they don't think I embody. Maybe I'm a modern romantic. I want to be taken seriously, so I only let out the romantic in private. But as a closet-romantic, I swoon.

“Romantic” seems to me a messy sort of word, varied and imprecise, however precise it attempts to be. So often it manages to be misinterpreted to fit whatever is despised. Wishy-washy, doe-eyed, don't forget Jane Austen and every Harlequin romance novel out there. Just squish them all into one category so that we can laugh at them and their impracticality. Every generation comes up with a different, “newer” definition of what it takes to be a romantic and the greater part of that generation proceeds to tip-toe around the edges of the romantic whirl-pool. Occasionally they stick a toe in to test the waters and occasionally, they're swept away, but mostly they give it a wide berth, like cats avoiding large bodies of water.

I haven't always been a romantic. At one point, it would have been easy to categorize me as your hard-line cynic. Nothing would work, no, no, no. Or maybe that was just a stage in life, who knows? Being a romantic, in my opinion, is infinitely more agreeable; and if that inclination leaves me open to derision, so be it. The hopefulness that accompanies this particular strain of mindset is too good to pass up. I'll live with the laughs at my expense.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I met Mr. Darcy of Pemberley through a diminutive little lady named Ms. Austen. What at first struck me as being the most dull book imaginable, became a garden of intrigue, deception, spurned loved and contrition. Austen offered no small dose of romance surrounding a stormy love affair and ending in the happiest of marriages. And Mr. Darcy was at the center of it all. Perhaps, that's when I became a romantic.

Lest I begin to sound wishy-washy, however, do let me say that there are some disadvantages to being a romantic. The relationships so far have been, to put it mildly, disasters. Which, perhaps, is exactly what my romantic nature wanted all along because the boys didn't measure up to my high standards. I know of no one who is a romantic who does not complain of high standards ruining relationships, potential or otherwise. I'm always looking for that quality that will make them right—will make them my “Mr. Darcy.” Most often, I've ruled guys out simply based on first impression. Which doesn't exactly increase my chances on the relationship market. And I can blame my romantic nature at least in part for my picky taste and high standards.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm faking. I wonder if my idealistic side says, “This is the best route to being accepted in society. Instead of being obsessive compulsive, you're an idealist, you're a perfectionist. And as a perfectionist, it would be best to adopt a romantic mindset. You'll be happy. Trust me.” And I am happy. But deep down I wonder, am I just faking it? Good question. One I wish I knew the answer to because I'm a total pushover for a tall, dark-haired man in uniform . . . or a tuxedo.

But uniforms and tuxedos aren't the only things that I'm a pushover for. I normally forget that I'm a pushover for a beautiful voice, until I run across a truly fabulous one. Most often I fall for the man singing, or I wish he were younger, or both. Andrea Bocelli is an excellent case in point. Fabulous voice but way too old for me. Luckily I can substitute Josh Groban and I'm set for being all swept away. In this sense, I'll admit I'm a complete dreamer. But their music doesn't help it a bit – romantic love ballads, come on . . . Can you blame a girl for being a pushover for a man with a beautiful voice who chooses to sing love songs?

I'm also a pushover for period pieces. You get me a heartbeat with Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice– the gowns and the curls, the deception and the suspense. Or the Scarlet Pimpernel, that's another good one for drama. Get the right film, or just sit down and read the book. I've got these strange urges to emulate some of the things in these pieces because they just strike me as being so gosh darn romantic. There's no two ways about it. The herb garden, the sewing, embroidery and long court dresses; meeting the King and living in castles, sailing the high seas or being rescued by your husband, Sir Percy Blakeney, who just happens to be the elusive, daring, mysterious Scarlet Pimpernel. It's adventure and romance all rolled into one and I can't resist. Maybe you wouldn't call that romantic, but that's my definition. That's my generation.

Coincidentally, I'm still looking for my Mr. Darcy.


So was I right or was I right? Yeah, it's a perfect character sketch in less than two full pages. I had so much fun writing that, y'all have no idea. I do apologize for the very literary reference up there at the top. For all those who have no idea who Walter Mitty is, read here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_Mitty :) In the meantime, for all of you way too lazy to do that, I'll give you a quick summary. Walter Mitty is a sad little man in a short story by James Thurber (incidentally one of my favorite authors) who daydreams his way through life because his life is duller than dull. He's the ultimate hero in his daydreams – completely and totally loony, but the hero nonetheless – and a dreamer to boot.

I feel like a small child in class who knows the answer – Oooh! Ooooh! Teacher pick me! Yeah, so the latest breaking news is here:

Caroline is a GEEK. In the worst way. Not only do I love sci-fi (figure in Stargate, Torchwood, Battlestar Galactica – that's in an all-over-again kind of way – and much more), manage to be a straight 'A' student (so far, cross your fingers) in college, but I'm now officially part of three, count them people, 1-2-3 honor societies. Yeah. GEEK. In the worst way. For all of you who are currently wondering what they are, feel slightly better – they're all beyond geeky.

1) Phi Eta Sigma Honor Society
2) Sigma Tau Delta -- International English Honor Society
3) Golden Key International Honour Society (Yes, it is spelled honour not honor. It's the international spelling).

I'll accept the accolades and compliments now. Thank you, thank you. No, I really don't have a big head. It's almost more embarrassing than anything else, but it is breaking news. So to speak.

Also breaking news, as of today, Caroline is ADDICTED in the worst way to Twitter. Yes, shameful, I know. But true. I'm also a fan of short sentences. Really. Short. Sentences. I can blame that on my Style and Editing class and a Langston Hughes short story called “Salvation.” If you haven't read that, go read it: http://www.courses.vcu.edu/ENG200-dwc/hughes.htm. It won't take long, but you'll understand.

Breaking news as of about a week ago, I'm all over Josh Groban, yet again. Yeah, it's funny but true. And I'm the worst kind of fan, too. I had no clue in 2006 that he had a new cd (Awake) out. I have no excuses. Not really. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Caroline. How could you?! I was wrapped up in high school-ness, I think. Beauty and the Beast, choir concerts and tour, coping. That was a fun year. Not that I really remember much of it, but I was oblivious to say that least.

That's also not to say that I'm much better these days, but I like to think I am. Now I have Facebook, Twitter, audible's NY Times, and many more all attempting to keep me in the loop. So far, they've had limited success.

Needless to say, Groban has a playlist all to himself on my ipod right now. And it will probably remain that way now that I've clued in, again. I still need to get his other two cd's (that I don't have, shame shame shame), but I'll have to save up my pennies, nickels, and dimes. College does that to me, folks. I did buy Awake and his dvd/cd combo Awake Live (which was a hoot and a holler and a lot of fun, just wish it had more). I'm supporting the music industry in my own small way, but it sometimes takes me longer than other people. Sigh.

I still love Star Trek (2009). Just get used to it. And I'm working to convert new fans each day. I did my small part the last week when they showed it for free on campus, here. Pepperdine rocks. I had my friend, Monica, in the first few minutes even before the title credits rolled. It was FABULOUS (this is a new favorite word for me). And by the end of the movie, my newest guy friend, Wes, was also convinced. Not that I hadn't convinced him, before, but he was more convinced than ever afterward.

As far as that 45 day get-in-shape thing working out? It didn't. I'm doing something different, now. But it's okay because I've dropped 5 pounds – hip, hip, hooray! Not that anyone can tell, but it's nice when the scale acknowledges the pain that is ab craziness every morning. I should probably get on that today, now that I think about it.

So, the guy-friend front has been unique, to say the least. The newest are Wes and John. They both work in the tech center on campus, no really big surprises there. I still hang out there on occasion. They've started calling me the “semi-permanent fixture.” Thor, Grant, Travis . . . I love those guys. They send the dumb ones to me first, if I'm there.

Case in point:

Dumb guy: I spilled water on my computer. When can I turn it back on?

Me: Did you turn your computer off immediately, unplug it, turn it upside down to dry, and, if possible, remove the battery pack?

Dumb guy: [Blank stare]What?

John: What she said.

Dumb guy: [to John, completely disregarding me] But it was last night, or early this morning depending on how you look at it. Shouldn't it be fine? I mean, I turned it on this afternoon and it kind of half started up. I mean, how long do I have to wait?

Me: [Because this guy is obviously clueless, and dumb besides to ignore the drop-dead gorgeous girl who just told him what he should have done with his computer when he stupidly spilled water on it] Just don't touch it for at least 48 hours. Don't touch it, period. And if you have a towel, wrap it in that.

At this point, I really wanted to go Bastard Operator from Hell (start here and you'll understand: http://bofh.ntk.net/Bastard_Indexes.html) on his ass, but I was kind and I didn't. I wanted to tell him that he needed to superglue all the keys on his keyboard in the down position and then superglue the lid shut because that would make it waterproof.

John: A bag of rice works well, too. And best bet, if it doesn't start working in the next couple of days, clean out the rice, take it to Apple and say that you lent it to a friend and when they gave it back it was like that. They should fix it. And next time, do what she said.

Dumb guy: Really?

Me & John: Yeah. Really.

Or the girl who came in and didn't know how to remove her battery pack. It was completely and totally obvious, by the way. How could you be a laptop owner and NOT know that?? If you are reading this and don't know how to remove your battery pack, find someone who does and learn. Now. Really, I'm not kidding. This is essential basics, for you. And take heed of the above little story if you ever spill water on your computer. P.S. if you have a newer Mac, it might not be possible to remove the battery, but do everything else exactly the same.

Currently listening to Katy Perry. Gotta love her and “I kissed a Girl.” Aaaaaand, moving on.

Just watched Chess: In Concert for the first time this last Thursday night. I have to say, I loved it and the story line was completely obvious to me. Had Monica watch it with me the next day and she had trouble figuring it out. I didn't see what was so difficult about it, but maybe it's just a different kind of humor than most people are used to. At any rate, Josh Groban sings the lead in this most recent rendition and it's a fun one. Check it out on Youtube, get it from Netflix (incidentally, you can probably get a free two week trial right now), buy it on Amazon. You won't be disappointed. This musical was famous for the hit, One Night in Bangkok. (some fun from Youtube – the original version I believe. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mnqj31VPNoE&feature=PlayList&p=8E64BBA9D92D124B&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=1). Seriously, though. Check out the latest one, 2008.

And if you're so inclined, check out this rabbi. I went to a free talk here and he's got interesting opinions and a good speaker. This is not to say I agree with everything he says, but he's a voice. Recently voted the best pulpit rabbi in L.A. County (or some such thing) as well as the author of 7 books his sermons are short and to the point and food for thought if you're in the mood. Listen to some of them here: http://www.sinaitemple.org/learning_with_the_rabbis/sermons.php.

I feel like I'm running out of steam, slowing down. Not much else to say at the moment. Think happy thoughts! It's my new motto. Think Happy Thoughts! (My poster has a picture of a smiling Josh Groban on it.) Make one of your own and insert your favorite personal picture or celebrity.

And a the greyhounds are here!

Romeo feeling . . . well, yeah.

 

Juliet and Ashlee (left to right)

 

And Ashlee, again. She's thinks she's my dog, really.

And that's me, all tuckered out for the evening. This was waaaay long. Sorry 'bout that.

Summer Update

Well, it's been a while. What can I say? I've doing the whole school thing. You know “nose to the grindstone” = lots of reading, projects, etc. and the blog got put on the wayside for a bit. But now I'm back and I've still got my nose to the grindstone – only this time it's work for pay! Yay!

Bolstering the bank account is just one of the things I plan to work on this summer. This is chiefly being taken care of through work for: my Aunty Carmyn and abercrombie (the kid's store). While working for Carmyn can be a drag, I just keep reminding myself that she is paying me $10/hour and it's not all that difficult most of the time. For instance: clean the kitchen/bathroom, wipe the baseboards, vacuum, go through financial stuff like receipts and collate.

I'm also tutoring my cousin Jesse for her which is ridiculously easy and he usually winds up taking a good hour and half to two hours to get things done. I plunk him down a table at the local library and we don't leave until he's all done with every single piece of homework I can find for him to do. Recently, this has been a slight problem because he lies about not having any homework or “forgets” it at school. I finally quashed that habit the other day by starting a regimen to keep him accountable. This involves a daybook/journal he has to write all of his assignments in and then get the appropriate teacher to sign. If he doesn't get the signatures or he forgets the book somewhere, Jesse has to write 15 sentences of “I will not forget my homework” for every signature he can't prove he acquired. Funny thing is, the 15 sentences (which I didn't think would be that much of an incentive, seem to be doing the trick). The first day we tried it, both Carmyn and I were sure he would forget about it and wind up writing sentences. Instead, as he hopped in my car after school and I asked him about his signatures, he not only had his homework written out, but he had also gotten at least one of the two signatures required. I sent him back to get the other one because I didn't think he really wanted to write sentences. Not only that, but he completed all of the math worksheet in record time as well as a science worksheet his mother found in his binder that was incomplete.

Abercrombie continues dull and predictable although I've been learning some new skills. The latest of these is how to build closets and prepare an example, hang-out shirt. Building closets turned out to be depressingly easy – all you need to be able to do is count to 6 (or so), insert the widgets, and lift the shelfs (in order to readjust them). Hang-out shirts are even simpler – requiring the ability to measure twelve inches down a shirt, place one vertical sidesticker ending at the twelve inch mark and then gather about an inch below the sticker a couple of inches of shirt material and bull clip it. It's frustrating, though, because I've only been scheduled to work about 4 times since I've been home and I'm not scheduled at all next week. It's a good thing Carmyn is employing me the rest of the time!

Hmm . . . and now onto other things. I bought a new 36 X 36 inch counted cross-stitch of a ballerina. It's beautiful and much more complicated than my last one (a 6 X 8 of a zebra) but continuing fun for the summer and next school year I'm sure. I need to just consistently sit down and work on it every day for a little while so that I can make some progress. Unfortunately, the other day when I sat down to work on it, I realized that I'd messed up a whole section (it was one hatch too low in relation to the other part I'd been working on) and I had to rip the offending threads out. This is one of my weird little things I like to do.

Another one is my continuing hope for another veggie garden this summer. Mommy has Alex (our contractor) working on building raised beds with screen on the bottom so that rodents won't eat the plant roots. When those are done, we have 40 bags of potting soil to dump in and then planting will begin in earnest. I'm hoping that if we plant early enough this year, I'll actually be able to enjoy some of the fruits of my labor, unlike last year. Last year, I did all of the planting and hard labor only to have everything blooming and fruiting while I was away at school and Mommy got all the fresh produce. I'm mostly inspired by a series of mystery novels by Ellis Peters (The Brother Cadfael series) to plant this garden every year. Brother Cadfael tends a garden in his monastery (mostly herbs, but some vegetables, too) and it always seems like such a pleasing occupation in the books that I find myself outside doing the same thing. I definitely think that the work is rewarding and it can be very pleasant indeed.

The Brother Cadfael series is kind of the extent of my reading at this point. I do have a couple wonderful cookbooks, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and a James Thurber, but that's about it for the moment. The cookbooks are probably the most fun. I mostly read while Jesse is working on his math homework or other homework he doesn't need me to keep him on task all the time. I find myself reading with an intensity that I normally reserve for school required reading these days which makes it difficult to relax while I read. I'm working on it though.

Other favored activities this summer for me include cooking and baking, of all things. I'm finally hitting my stride in the kitchen, again. It normally takes a couple of weeks for me to remind myself that cooking for me is infinitely more pleasurable than having set options and someone else cooking. So far, the new recipes I have made include: Vintage Lemonade, Lemon Curd, Country Gazpacho, and a recipe for Spanish Double-Mashed Potatoes. I also made home-made applesauce the other day which turned out beautifully and a batch of boiled down lemon juice and chocolate mint for ice cubes.

Newest favorite movie is the 2009 Star Trek starring Zachary Quinto, Chris Pine, Bruce Greenwood, Zoe Saldana, Karl Urban, John Cho, Anton Yelchin, Eric Bana, and Simon Pegg. I'd say that Zachary Quinto steals the show, with Chris Pine giving him a definite run for his money. As much as I'm loath to admit it, Quinto is probably the inspiration for me getting this up and running again. He's got one he keeps up from time to time when things more than moderately interesting are happening and I thought I should keep one up, too. You know, document days in the life of . . . and so on. Quinto's blog is pretty engaging and an easy read and I'm a fan, which probably makes it all the more interesting for me.

I've discovered I have this urge to take care of people. I'll just leave it at that. Don't ask me to elaborate more. I just want to make sure people are happy and fed and generally worry free. I know, impossible task. But it's what I try to do about ½ the time I'm home. The other half I'm stuck at home while everyone else is off having adventures, so I'm by myself with no one to take care of.

New exercise regimen is also starting up this summer as well. I'm trying this 45 day beginners work out designed by an old navy SEAL. It starts off easy and works to improve all-over body strength, endurance, and health, but it's not over-the-top, kill-yourself-every-time-you-work-out style. This, I find immensely attractive, and I started the regimen today. I upped it a little bit because I'm not so totally out of shape that a brisk walk for 3 minutes is going to wind me, but I did enough to be stinky and tired. The funny thing is, I feel like I have tons of energy and my attention-span right now is a beautiful thing. I'm not starving because I'm eating every three hours or so, drinking plenty of liquids and I'm eating right. It makes a big difference!

Well, that's it for now. Caroline out!

More for the Philosophical Poetry Garden

Disappearing

by Caroline M. L. McMillan

Sit. Settle, center.

Surround

Round and Round

World Focus, unfocus

Spin.

Round and Round

Pan; plummet.

Swoop.

Round and Round

Swoosh in, sweep out

Susurration

Round and Round.

This is my world.

Calm of tornadoes; death—

before storms.

Stop; move. Stop.

Round and Round.

Distraction and Chaos

Playing their intimate game

Round and Round.

Marbles on the floor of eternity—one

Lost.

Round and Round.

No past, no future—comic

Lilliputian.

Round and Round

Amusement for eons of cosmic

Lethargy

Round and Round.

I am gone.

Lost.

Round and Round . . .

Thoughts on Reading

It's more difficult to listen to stories and cook at the same time, but it can be done. It's the same with watching movies while cooking – difficult doable.
The thing that I really enjoy doing, is impossible to do while doing other things. That is: read. You know, read from an actual book - enjoy the sensation of the words flowing past you so fast you forget you're reading and you're watching a movie in your mind instead. You don't register the turning of the pages, one after the other, or the actual words – they are all transformed into a glowing image.
I suppose, now thinking about it some more, it is possible to double task while reading. For instance, you can eat or walk, listen to music and if you're really good at crocheting or knitting you can do that and read, but I don't think that there is real enjoyment in the process if other things muck it up. There's always the worry that something is going to get on the pages, be it tea, dirt, or mashed potatoes. This is one of the reasons I hardly ever read outside – I don't want to mess the book up. This is, I suppose detrimental to my health, especially when I spend the whole of a day, sometimes two or three if I'm allowed to read uninterrupted, inside with only a few minutes total of my day spent in the great outdoors.
Not exactly a healthy lifestyle, right?
But is it healthy to live without stories- be they real or fantasy? I think most definitely not.