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.