I'm taking a Spirituality and Literature class this semester, and it's much more spirituality than literature. And I mean, a lot more. We start every class period with a 5 -10 minute meditation phase and talk about various religions and their routes to awakening and ego death. The literature is by various Naropa professors and Eckhart Tolle, and etc.
For a girl who's kind of blocked off the spiritual side of me, it's very interesting and actually enlightening. I'm a worrier, and the meditation gives me a chance to shut that part of my brain off, and I've actually started visualizing my aura as a really intense lilac color - someone more awakened please fill me in on what that means.
Anyway, for a cynical mysticist, I'm actually taking this stuff seriously. I've started to wonder what enlightenment is, and if I can reach it. But first, I have to move chairs.
Does anyone else pick a spot deliberately in the beginning of the year, and stay there? I hate to move - when I change my vantage point, I listen differently and I feel uncomfortable. Other people seem to stay at least in regions, but me, I like my seat.
Unfortunately at the beginning of this semester, I sat next to someone snarky and uninterested. As far as I can tell, he's had training in meditation and is very knowledgeable about the Jewish faith. That could be really great for this class, but -- it's not. He thinks he knows more than our (very cute, very old, and very hippie) teacher and takes every opportunity to butt into her (very vague) teachings and tell her what she - and the rest of us - are doing wrong. More often than not, he directs his under-his-breath comments at me, and I'm left politely shrugging or nodding as noncommitally as I can. He mumbles and shifts and taps his fingers while we're silently meditating, breaking my concentration, and chuckles when someone says something that he obviously thinks is stupid.
There are also people in the class that are milking this meditation thing for all the class time it's worth. "Maybe we should try for longer this time?" "Could we talk about lying down before we meditate?" "Does anyone have a drum?" until we are nearly out of time for the day, which isn't exactly productive but doesn't bother me.
There are two people, though, who seem generally open to the experience of just learning. Our professor is obviously a little addled, but they seem to appreciate that and find the wisdom in what she says. One is a guy who speaks about his experiences in lucid dreaming (to the general disbelief of the class) and the other is a girl who actually did bring a drum - and played steady beats in helping us with our meditation. She's read Tolle and she's traveled the world, and she absolutely eats up everything our professor says with a smile.
My gut instinct keeps telling me to ask this girl out for coffee.
But I'm stubborn, and I can't bring myself to move away from Mr. Grumpy and over to someone open and, who I think is willing to make new friends and talk about life in a positive way.
And I've realized that's how my life is, too. I know I was just talking about talking to new people and really feeling smarter and better about my life than when I was that rowdy college experience that constitutes the cultural norms. I need to get out of my routine, get out of my house and off my computer and go out into the world! It's not that I'm scared, exactly. It's that I always forget about the tiny of sliver of light that each new person brings into my world. I focus, instead, on the safe - but very dark - darkness that is routine and monotony.
A friend of mine, recently acquired, told me today that he really started spending time with me only because, "You didn't know me, and I didn't know you."
Instead of being mock offended (my usual reaction to most anything that's not a compliment) that he wasn't immediately drawn to me for my wit or charm, I accepted it.
Really, why does anyone go out of their way to make new friends if not for that fact? I love the people in my life. My friends and family are the absolute best people I can imagine. I don't really need more people in my life. But each new person and each new experience opens me up in a way that those amazing people haven't so far.
I've felt myself change so much more in the last month than I had for the first two and a half years of college, because instead of aligning myself with people that are, if not completely negative, at least living in what's "supposed to be" right for them, rather than what's really good. And who knows, maybe that cultural norm is what is really what's good for them, but it's not for me. I'm beginning to figure out that my life may not be so normal. Maybe Europe, maybe a commune, maybe a European commune? I don't know.
But I'm not going to let my routine keep me from finding out.
flirt with brilliance
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
THE BEST THING YOU'VE EVER READ.
Okay, so I realize it's been a bit since I blogged. I don't feel that bad about that for two reasons:
1) There MAY BE one of you who reads this. May be. I don't even count on one person. (And yes, that's not supposed to say maybe, it says may be. It's kind of tripping me out also.)
2) This post is going to be super personal and life-changing and everyone who does read it (read: one of you) is going to be like, whoa, I don't need to ever read a blog again because that was just, that was it.
Okay, so for the first part of this post, I want you all to read this:
Just getting you in the mood.
Now. On to bigger things.
I've stopped drinking in the party sort of sense. This I'm sure will change as my 21st birthday draws ever closer, and the ritual of drinking/vomiting uncontrollably is one you have to go through, but as it is, since I've been back in B-town, I've had one night where I really drank. And I felt really uncomfortable.
People talk about drinking like it's something they're proud of. Like, "Oh god you guys I got so wasted I totally fucked some rando. HA! How funny is that?!" And I've had those exchanges with my friends, every once in a while. But the thing is, it's not really pride that's making you sound so proud. It's that you're scared about what really did happen, and what you said and what you did and you're trying to make it sound like you're really not ashamed when you are so ashamed you can barely stand it. That somehow by not saying, "I got really out of control. That scared me," you're making it bearable because actually admitting that you're scared makes you more ashamed.
I hate that. I don't like feeling out of control anyway, but this in particular bugs me, because it's become such a part of college culture. I think I could be happy never drinking again (maybe a glass of wine every so often), but I would become a pariah in this environment. I've been teased so much for not going out lately that sometimes I just get the urge to toss a shot in my mouth and be like, okay, not going to remember tonight. But I haven't, yet, and I think that's because I'm very much aware of my alcoholic tendencies and very scared for what that could do to my life. Every so often, I feel this urge to drink not for fun but because I need t0 - and that's not something I'm willing to give in to. (Though I have, don't get me wrong.)
Boulder is a beautiful, beautiful place full of really smart people who have a lot to say. That's one of the reasons I came here. But somehow, while I was trying to come to college and get enlightened, I got mixed up in COLLEGE LIFE and everything that falls under that label. I'm taking this place, and all the different viewpoints (I don't mean politically, as that is actually quite restricted, which I'm okay with) it offers for granted.
And while we're on the subject of the kind of people that say, "Oh my god, so wasted, blaaaghhh," that's the second thing I wanted to talk about. I started working at the Boulder Weekly, and I love it. Despite the fact that I smell like some sort of hippie scent that I can't quite figure out (I've seriously been looking around for a candle or something - I don't know what it is and it's so cloying that I can taste it now, and it's been five hours since I left), it's a super fantastic spot for me. Not only do I get to spend all day talking to people about things they're passionate about, while I'm sitting there typing away, people in the office will call out various funny or upsetting things that then ACTUALLY GET DISCUSSED. Not joking. This is such a different environment for me. I am so used to any actual thought getting beaten out of my head by girls and guys who look at me like I'm a crazy person that I actually think I got dumber.
All of this partying and drinking and thinking of the stupidest kinds of innuendo and I got SO DUMB. I thought I was smart, and above all of it, at first. And then at some point, I lost my capacity for thought. So between the Weekly, and various people I've been trying to align myself with that actually have things to say about topics (Is that a Mean Girls reference I don't know I'm making? HEY, ONE BLOG READER. What is that a reference to?), I'm regaining that. I can actually say something intelligent without the guy I'm trying to bone/trying to bone me looking at me like he is an actual bone. Like, you know how people use the expression boneheaded? I'm finally getting it now. It's like looking at a skeleton but instead of scary it's just boring.
These are the worst metaphors I've ever written, but I think you get the picture. And maybe a chuckle because the best blog in the world definitely couldn't be written without a few chuckles.
I have to pause for a second here. I realize this sounds pretentious. I'm not trying to say I'm so much smarter and better than anyone, because I know I'm not. Everyone here IS smart and has something to say. The fact that everyone, all of these smart people, are being consistently ground down to the point where all we can say is "bro," and "obvi," (and not even in an ironic way). And I'm not trying to be so hipster (that's italicized because I'm saying it in my head in a sooo hipster kind of voice) because that's where the pretention comes in, where people really do think they're better and more unique than everyone because they dress and act differently, but come on guys, you still gather at the Downer and get blackoutdrunk and it's FUN and I get that, but, god.
We have to do something about the place where we live. Seriously, something has to be done. I threatened to quit America today.
This is getting so tangential (and not because of all the parentheticals I use, because I know that's obnoxious and this is becoming some sort of paradox - parentheticals and parentheticals and parentheticals). This wasn't my intention. I need to make some sort of outline when I set out to write the best blog post because I swear, I had SO MANY THINGS TO SAY.
But I don't even mind that this is is distracted and all over the place because I absolutely love the fact that I have so many things to say that I can't fit them all in one piece. I love it. I want my head to be buzzing like this forever, and I hope I keep finding ways to do that, so I don't forget myself ever again.
P.S. So, maybe not the best thing you've ever read. But I can always try again. And I love that too.
P.P.S. If you didn't go hit that link, you absolutely should. It's the kind of thing I think in my head but not so eloquently and you'll like it.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Does anyone know what I'm doing?
I just re-read the account my high school newspaper advisor wrote about starting a newspaper with 10 ill-prepared freshmen and sophomores (I still pronounce that word soph-o-mores, as he did all the time, to avoid spelling mistakes) and I realized I have no idea what I want to do.
In it, he describes me as the kind of girl who has probably never missed a deadline in her life, a stable, dependable reporter, and while all that could feasibly be applied to my description now, I don't want to be the Hermione Granger of the newspaper for my entire life.
Yes, I talk in class, yes I am obnoxiously over-prepared for every interview -- or more, every conversation -- that I have, yes, I wanted to be Hermione for a large portion of my life, but she knew what she wanted.
I had a conversation with the Features editor the other day, and he asked what specifically I like about features. (Which, to quote Jennifer in that account, "I don't even know what a feature is!") I replied with a purposely vague,
"Well, I like profiles. And I like the longer, follow-you-around-type stories. You know, more novelistic writing than anything."
And he said: "We don't really...do that. We do arts and entertainment, and as an intern it'd probably be more of covering events - quick briefs."
Okay, so I wasn't expecting to write the Pulitzer as an intern, I'm not crazy. But if features isn't where that kind of writing, where can I take my Hermione-style self to write the things I want? Or at least to travel in that direction?
Is there anywhere in this digital future of journalism where there's actual writing?
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
I wish I were Patti Stanger.
Coffee shops are good places to learn about body language.
I've been at the Starbucks down the street from my house for four nights in a row, for a total of 25 hours (ish). And despite being incredibly tired of the modernized Christmas songs they're already writing, and the constant droll of sorority girls giggling in and out of the store, it's been a good work environment for the pre-finals finals week.
One thing I've noticed is that coffee shops are good places for first dates. I sit in a corner table, and there's some comfortable chairs right in front of me that I've seen 3 uncomfortable dating experiences in - the first was a tight-fisted interview type of date, the second two "artists" who talked a lot about "the essence of the show," and "just moving to New York to see where the universe takes me," but little about what they actually meant to say. And the third where they said little, and left after 20 minutes of painful questioning and one-word responses.
Today, though, I saw a girl walk in with a boy, and though I looked up for a fourth of a second, I immediately saw, in the way she held her body, how hopelessly into him she was. Not love, and she didn't know if her feelings were necessarily returned, but the way her eyes turned up to him and she nervously tugged at her hair told me she had a definite crush.
So if it's this obvious to me, why can't boys get it? It took a fourth of a second, a quick look. And boys study us for what I'm assuming is slightly longer than that.
For example, there's a cute boy in a brown sweater directly behind me, and I've been sending him looks that he can't possibly misinterpret, but his eyes are staying glossily unknowing.
Here is a handy guide:
- Giggling means we really like what you just said but can't think of a similarly witty quip.
- Aforementioned hair tugging means look at my shiny locks. I did this for you, idiot.
- Any "You're so tall, muscular, larger in any way and can protect me from the rampant muggers here in Boulder County" references are always a good thing. But do not under any circumstances insinuate that we cannot handle said muggers. We will do something reckless to prove you wrong. (This one may just be me - I have a history of trying to show how "independent" I am, by walking away from campsites and bars and off onto my own into wilderness/Pearl on various occasions. (Oh, and if that happens, you better follow.))
- My personal brand of flirting involves a lot of antagonizing - calling attention to your flaws. Now, I realize this may seem backwards to most of you, but hear me out. I think I mentioned before that I like assholes. These guys are used to being cooed over by skinny sorority types, and calling one of these guys on his bullshit is refreshing? I think? I only know the girl side of things.
So I hope that was as unhelpful for you to read as it was for me to write. I guess it's really only a guide to me. But if you want to know if a girl likes you, I can figure that out. Super helpful for my life, but maybe for yours.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
To go forth.
Every day, I seem to go back and forth about what I want to do. Typical college student stuff. But as a journalism student at CU, I've been leaning toward the negative side quite a bit more than I used to.
If our own administrators and teachers don't believe in the school, why am I in it? Sure, we're being allowed to finish our degrees, but is that the same as having something valuable that will get us jobs when we graduate? It doesn't look like it. Not that I don't think revamping the j-school is a bad idea. I think it's a good one. It just leaves me - and other students halfway (or more) through a degree - in a strange spot.
The good news is that today, I'm going forth. Not in a Levi jeans (Yes, I'm also an English major, I know it's actually a Walt Whitman kind of way. I'm trying to connect to people my own age.) kind of way, but as in, I want to actually be a journalist today. We had the editor of the Boulder Weekly, Pamela White, come to talk to us in Reporting 2, and she was inspiring, to say the least.
An investigative reporter, White has written stories that initiated a bill passing that prevented imprisoned women from being shackled while in labor, that got her pushed up against a wall during an interview, and that ousted the President of CU.
But what got to me more?
She still cares.
Her eyes watered up when she started talking about the team she worked with on the story that got John Boechner out of the presidency. She quickly named details about each reporter she mentioned (location, paper, kids). She was passionate about truth and justice.
I've been thinking, lately, that journalists are a bunch of sellouts. That the continuous pressure to evolve and become monetized has overshadowed what journalism is: a search for truth. For truths that are bigger than advertisers, truths that bring down a corrupt politician or help up a struggling Samaritan.
To strengthen the weak and weaken the strong.
That's what we're here for.
Tomorrow I've got an interview at the Daily Camera. I'm glad that today, I was reaffirmed about what it meant to be a journalist, because now, when I'm asked the question, I can legitimately answer that I'm excited about the future of journalism, and about my future in journalism.
Update: Just got done with my interview at the Camera. Looks like I'll be sports interning there in the spring. :)
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