Sunday, February 27, 2011

Poetry Slam

So, I decided to be social last night.  And, this meant going to the poetry slam at the White Gables house.  I thought it would just be readings from poetry books, but no, it was sort of a competition thing.  So, I ran back to my house to grab the sonnet that I just finished up (I spent two days working on it.  It's for my creative writing class).  Everyone had unique poems.  There were three trophies.  A dead bouquet of flowers for the most depressing/scary/sadistic poem, a glass half full of water (or half empty if you prefer) for the best comedic poem, and the prize for the best poem overall was a fishbowl trophy with a red betta inside.  There were lots of fun poems, so I wasn't expecting to win.  I was pleasantly surprised.

Next came the naming.  The names submitted were Wordsworth, Lister, Cloister, and Santa Cruzer.  I've chosen Santa Cruzer for now, although if anyone has a good name they'd like to argue for I wouldn't be averse to changing the name.  The real problem is that I'm unsure how exactly to go about changing the water and whatnot.  Supposedly you can't use tap water because it has chlorine in it?  And you can't use distilled water because it lacks the necessary minerals.  So, I am going to go to Petco tomorrow to get food and whatnot for it.  I also feel bad that it is in such a small space, but I don't really have space in my room for a bigger tank for it.  Maybe if I were to buy a desk and a chair for my room (more homework might get done if I did that) then I could buy a small tank for him to swim around in.  Then I wouldn't have to clean the tank as often.

So, here's introducing Santa Cruzer!

I couldn't really get a decent close up with my camera, so this is just to show his cool fins, I guess.


The trophy

So, should I get him a bigger home, or is he going to be fine in this one?

Oh, and here's the poem that won me him.

Evening In Monterey

I walk along, feet bare in the soft sand,
And breathe in water droplets from the mist,
As rolling fog slides from water to land.
The peninsula ceases to exist.
I journey down the beach, towards my home,
Send out a prayer to not lose my way
So when, enveloped by the thick white foam,
I won't be lost, but safe in Monterey.
I start to run along the road and vow,
"Never, this late, shall I visit the coast."
Alas!  My prayer will not save me now,
And I wander from lamppost to lamppost.
I breathe in water droplets from the air.
Unhappy and lost, I shiver, and swear.

Each line has ten syllables, but I know it doesn't religiously follow iambic pentameter.  I'm going to workshop it on Tuesday.  I'm expecting it to get torn to shreds, but at least it was good for something!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

The Ballad of Mona Lisa



After a particularly stressful day, I'm really happy for my music.  Now I'm going to go for a walk to Costa Vida, enjoy a burrito, and come back for some Phineas and Ferb to finish drowning my sorrows.

And, this really is one of my favorite songs Panic! At The Disco plays.  I'm not really sure why, since I can never remember the lyrics, but the music is catchy.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Feminism

The topic is inevitable in a literary history class.  We read an excerpt from Margaret Fuller's The Great Lawsuit.  I thought that it was an extremely mild form of feminism which conformed to some LDS views, but for the most part was too laid back on important issues.

When I got in class, I wasn't expecting what happened.  My teacher started out saying something close to this.  "A lot of times I have men in my class that, when they've read this, come to class and ask why they had to read it.  Shouldn't we just get rid of it altogether?  The issues that brought forth feminism aren't prominent anymore.  Aren't women equal to men now?  I'm going to say no, women aren't equal to men now, and that I have you read this because the problems brought forth in this work are just as prominent today as they were then."

The room was silent, and I know there was at least one perturbed, uncomfortable man in the room writhing in his chair because our teacher's words pricked him intolerably.  My teacher went on with his (did you think my teacher was a woman up until this point?) speech.  He said, "You may think that this issue ended in the seventies, but it still exists here and now, in the 21st century, especially in, as much as I hate to say it, the Mormon culture.  A few years ago, my younger sister got engaged to a guy she was dating.  They sent out texts to friends and family to share the happy news.  A few days later, my sister was in an english class, and the discussion of feminism came up.  The teacher challenged his students to discuss with their significant other (if they had one) the subject of feminism.  My sister decided to take the challenge.

"She sat down with her fiance and asked him what he thought about women's rights and the feminist movement, particularly the right to vote.  It turned out that his views were extremely conservative on the matter.  He, quite seriously, said that he believed there should only be one vote per household and that it should be the man's.  The woman was subject to the man and his views because that was the only way to have harmony in the household.  The man was superior because he held the priesthood, and that meant he was the most knowledgeable.  The woman's place was in the home, not in politics and the work force.

"Further, he said he held those views because it is what his mother had taught him.  Needless to say my sister did not marry this man.  And this isn't a singular case.  Lots of men, and some women, hold this view.  It all comes down to the question, is a female really less intelligent than her male counterpart, or are those boundaries set on women by the culture in which she lives?"

There was only one man willing to speak up and say that he didn't really care for feminism because of how radical all the works he had read in the past had been.  He did admit, though, that Fuller's work was particularly mild, that he found it refreshing, and agreed with a lot of the points she made.

I really appreciated my teacher's speech, because for a long time I've been trying to get that point across to people I come in contact with.  I've said before, quite under my breath, when people are excited about marriage and want me to join in the revelry, that "I'm not quite ready to be considered a piece of property again yet."

Although I realize that most men don't look at a woman as their property anymore, I do realize that my ex-husband thought of me that way, and that there are other men that think that way, especially in my culture (not the doctrine of the LDS Church, but the culture.  There tends to be large differences in culture vs. doctrine).

My teacher's class discussion on feminism was one of the few that I have participated in that I haven't been infuriated by.  I attribute this to that speech he gave at the beginning of class.  I appreciate his openness and honesty about the subject.  Even when the topic of radical feminism came up, he said, "Yes, some of it is pretty off the wall, but I wonder if there was a point behind their overstatements.  Many of them were serious about what they were saying, but if you look at it as if they were doing it for shock value, didn't what these feminists wrote wake you up?  Didn't you walk away from the work thinking, yeah, there's a problem with the way women are being treated, and we need to do something to change it?  The literary tactic is actually a very effective one."

So here's kudos to a great teacher who chose to view feminism in a positive light, and admit that there are still necessary steps to be taken for true gender equality today.

Margaret Fuller

Sneaky Weeks

Coming back from a long weekend to a ton of homework that you have less than 24 hours to do is always traumatizing.  I don't have a ton of homework because I didn't do homework over the weekend; I have a ton of homework because BYU decided to have a Monday schedule on Tuesday, and then switch back to the regular schedule for the rest of the week.  This means I have two days with four continuous hours of classes.  Regularly, this wouldn't be a problem.  However, my classes require an uncommonly large amount of reading.

Usually I have Tuesday to do most of my reading.  I'll do part of my reading after school on Monday, and finish it up on Tuesday.  Then I'll do part of my homework on Wednesday, and finish it up on Thursday, etc.  This work load coming back from the holiday is particularly daunting, because my brain doesn't handle stress very well after coming back from a stress free weekend.

I am no good at drawing pictures, so this is what my brain goes through in words:

Yaay, school!  It's nice to be back and learning.

(Two hours into classes) I'm hungry.  Lets munch on wheat thins!

(Wheat thins being eaten)  Wheat thins are loud, and I can't pay attention and eat at the same time.

(I stop eating)

Can't... pay... attention......... too hungry....

Ooh, mythology!

hungry.....

ugh... six more books of the Odyssey to read?  Why did I decide to read it for fun this summer?

Classical Humanities.... soooo bored. 

(Eat apple before class begins)

Maybe I can make it through class.  It's only fifty more minutes.  

Have to take notes... (brain death nearing).... have to get a good grade.... have to stay awake and pay attention....

(ambling down the hill) Fresh air and freedom!  Now to go get a decent meal.

(eating and watching tv) Oh... I have homework.  But, I've eaten, so I can do this!

Ooh, I've never read this before!

I see why I never read it.

How many more pages?

Fifty down.... a hundred more to go....

And I have three papers to work on after this?

Stop working.  Watch House.

Read five more pages.

Stop.  Read blogs.

Must finish homework.

No, must write on blog.

Working on your homework is the right honorable thing to do.

Shut up conscience.

And this is usually a daily thing, unless the reading is particularly interesting or if I am in the mood to be productive and write.  Today, this is a very troublesome thought process, because my lazy side is winning out.  We'll see if I survive the evening.  And, maybe someday I'll get some white paper and draw out a stick figure cartoon of it all and scan it in for my blog.  Maybe.  Like I said, no artistic talent.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Court Intruder



This is how obsessed people are with Jimmer.  I don't know how the guy walks across campus without being mobbed.

Jimmer's name has become a verb.  "You just got jimmered!"  Being the key usage.

Even when other team members are being highlighted in the newspaper, Jimmer's picture is on the front page.

Jimmer Fredette is probably the NCAA player of the year.

And yes, that's just how good BYU is.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Born This Way



Live from the Grammys.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

What I Know

Thou shalt not commit adultery.  No one ever considers that there's more than one type.

We don't get married because we love somebody.  We get married because we want that person's love, and don't want anyone else to have it.

Guilt is a scary thing.  That's why people do extraordinary things to hide their guilt.

People don't lie to save other people's feelings.  They lie because they want to save their own.

People get the angriest in an argument when they know that their opponent has said something irrefutably true.

If comparing yourself to other people wasn't important, you wouldn't do it.

Justifying your actions doesn't always mean they were the wrong actions, it just means that the situation was morally muddy, and justification is a means of deciding if blurring the lines was worth it in the end.

The idea that ignorance is bliss is a lie.  We say that to make ourselves feel better about all the uneducated people who are starving, disease ridden, and dying in the world.

The people who see that there is more bad than good in the world aren't cynics, they're realists.

The human race hasn't changed, or history wouldn't repeat itself.

People condemn the actions of others in the past, such as adultery and rape, and say that people are much better now, because they want to delude themselves into thinking that it is nowhere near as prevalent today.

All men were not created equal.