Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Christmas



That is my cat Pepper.

As for Christmas...

Sarah! I got a juicer slash blender slash dicer! I'll have to cook for us when we get back to K-ville in the house. My mom also gave me a gift card to Bed, Bath and Beyond- so we should discuss what else we need.

I'm going to go watch the Office with the family.

I need to improve my posting skills.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Faith

In order to operate in the academic world, does one have to deny the idea of faith? The liberal arts are built around the ability to reason and appreciate education as a holistic experience. But the rational we study is human reasoning. Which has been proven fallible. (Please don't get me wrong, I am passionatly in love with the study of humanity: literature, theatre, politics, psychology, history, etc.) But is it that foolish to accept there is something greater thea yourself? Greater than humanity? That there is a higher reason. If I believe that, does that seperate me from being enveloped in academia? Am I to narrow to understand what I'm studying?

In British Literature we studied Thomas Hardy, Virginia Woolf, and George Eliot all of whom denounced Christianity. Mrs. Dalloway portrayed the one Christian character as small and irrational.

I am inevitably irrational because I have faith?

I came to college hoping to discuss religion, but I've found that several would rather not. "It's not worth it."

When I think about it, there is nothing more important to discuss.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

My mom came in here and threw me a shirt. (Throw in latin is Iacto) In case you were wondering... anyway she said it didn't look good on her.

In college, people don't throw me shirts. Whereas,at home I can attribute a large portion of my wardrobe to my mommy's impulse shopping. It's good to be home. :)

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Blogging once again!

I have seven minutes before I'm supposed to call Mathew.

Mathew is my boyfriend. We've been together for three years now.

Better brush my teeth/wash my face before I call.

Five more minutes till I should call him back.

Ok, I'm going to go get ready for bed.

What a USELESS post. :)

Monday, December 17, 2007

I apologize for my last post.

Not that very many people read this - which is ok. It's for me, not other people. Although it is fun to think that random people can read my thoughts- regardless of how shallow or pathetic such thoughts are.

I'm reading 1984, I need to finish it actually- I'm taking forever with it. Sometimes I really don't want to read it. Not that it is a bad book, just a bit heavy. Not quite the light "after finals joy reading" I was hoping for. Winston Smith, the protagonist, risks his life to write in a journal. I wonder what it would be like to live in a dystopia.

I don't really have the energy to finish.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Of only moderate quality; not very good

I feel so far behind in everything.

I'm thinking about medical school - but I don't have a strong background in science.

I would love to sing amazingly well- but I only started my Junior year and I'm really far behind a lot of people much younger than me.

I would love to be able to dance..

Act..

Write..

I'm so sick of being mediocre at everything.

I feel like I'm drowning in it. And it makes me miserable.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Goldilocks: if Jane Austen had Penned It
The Family of Bear had live in Somerset for three generations. The residents of Porridge Park, their vast estate, was Lord Tyler Bear, a wealthy statesman, and his wife Lady Charlotte, a distant descendent of the Duke of Norfolk, thus completing Lord Bear’s high social status through matrimony. They had one son, Edward, who was often referred to as Baby Bear in the more intimate social circles. Lord and Lady Bear were very fond of their young son and thus spoiled him with gifts of fine furniture and toys.
At seven years of age he was quite accomplished due to his parents constant attentions. He could draw remarkably well for his age and was undertaking his fourth year of study on the pianoforte. His parents were particularly proud of his accomplishments in Schubert Sonatas and swore to their dinner guests that Edward was quite a prodigy.
Lady Charlotte Bear had one sister, Katherine, who unfortunately had married capriciously to Alfred Dutton, a man very much beneath her rank. (The Bear Family rarely thought or spoke of her.) It was not until Lady Bear received a letter from Katherine that she considered her miserable sister. For Mrs. Dutton was the hapless mother of five children and expecting another in March. Would you please take our eldest, Anne as a ward? She had written, and give her a good education and opportunity in life? She is but seven and a very sweet girl.
We most certainly will not! Lord bear had said. She is not our responsibility. But Lady Bear, though slightly frivolous, had an amiable heart and persuaded Lord Bear to accept Anne. This was not accomplished until she had made clear that under no circumstance would Anne marry Edward. For they would certainly be fond of each other argued Lord Bear. “But,” Lady Charlotte had said, “we will not allow such nonsense to occur, and think, Tyler, how dire the poor girls opportunities are now.”
When the day came for Anne Dutton to arrive the whole house was anxious to observe her person and conduct. She reached Porridge Park a quarter past noon with very little luggage and was remarkably under dressed for the winter weather. Charlotte Bear later noted to her friends that Anne was a tiny figure with an explosion of blonde-gold hair and Lord Bear, in the company of his wife, would often refer to the little thing as “goldilocks.”
Her first week at the house went by without event. The child was reticent and unaccustomed to proper decorum. She left meals early and returned to the small room allotted to her. It was not until after the Bear Family left for their customary Sunday luncheon, and Anne was left with the servants, that she began to explore the vast manor.
The first room investigated was the immaculate dining hall. Anne had naturally had her meals there all week, but was too timid to openly observe the room’s grandeur. Now alone, she touched the reachable edges of fine wood and fingered through the linens soon to be distributed around the table for supper. Anne pretended to me mistress of the room and giggled with delight upon finding three wrapped boxes. The poor child could not read and therefore carelessly distributed of the silver card on the first box which read, “To: Lord Bear.” Her eyes widened with excitement as she unearthed a whole section of perfectly decadent chocolates! With absolutely no self-restraint the girl ravenously grabbed the candy and slipped it in her tiny mouth. After a moment of expectation the bitter taste of dark chocolate registered on her taste buds and she promptly spit the chocolate back out! “How bitter!” She cried.
The second box of chocolates with a similar silver ribbon that read, “To: Lady Bear” was also tasted. Her palate was once again offended, as she pulled out a coconut chocolate. (Lady Bear was fond of the exotic.) It was not until she reached the final box, “To: Baby Bear” that Anne found pure felicity. For within the smallest box of all resided three rows of caramel chocolate candies that Anne devoured with zeal.
Quite stuffed on chocolate the blonde child wandered into the living room. The ornate furnishings intimidated her as she searched for something with which to occupy herself. A shiny gold instrument in the form of a trumpet first caught Anne’s eye. It was placed horn end down on a holder and seemed quite complicated to remove. Her fancy quickly shifted to the large harp adjacent to the settee. She reached to touch it when her eyes fell upon Edward’s beautiful black pianoforte in the corner. Anne ran to it and began pounding aimlessly, her chocolate fingers smearing all over the clean white keys.
This continued for several minutes until she was overtaken with weariness. Instead of heading straight to her own room, Anne wandered into the opulent master bedroom. The massive bed was way to large for her to climb into and Lady Charlotte’s day bed was not as comfortable as it looked. The next room over was Edward’s and Anne admired his goose-feather comforter.
When the Bear Family returned they found that the presents sent to them had been opened and sifted through. Edward was most upset to discover that his favorite chocolate candies were gone. When they went to the living room, Edward found that his instrument had chocolate fingerprints all over the formerly clean keys. “This is Goldilocks doing!” shouted Lord Bear, furious with the child. He stormed towards her room as the other two followed quickly behind. But before they reached it they saw her asleep in Edward’s bed. Her little body wrapped in blankets and her face covered in chocolate. Disarmed by the sight of her, Lord Bear could not help but chuckle, for his heart was stern, but kind. He picked Anne up into his arms and placed her in her proper bed. Edward was most perplexed by the whole affair but not resentful of his cousins misconduct. The whole family, including Anne, would often laugh at the tale of “little Goldilocks making a mess!”
In fact, at Anne and Edward’s wedding fourteen years later, it greatly amused their guests.

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Neutral Tones

We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though chidden of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod,
--They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.

Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles solved years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro--
On which lost the more by our love.

The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing....

Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.

-Thomas Hardy

Monday, November 19, 2007

My blog's URL is really lame. I think I'm trying to hard. "Her Catharsis" -- give me a break. What do I have to release? Sometimes I walk through borders, a best buy, the Kemper or what have you and I feel so inspired by things I've read, listened to, or look at, and I really think that I'm full of passion for those areas and that possibly, one day, I'll be able to contribute to the humanities as well, but recently I realized, perhaps their energy just reflects on me, and that I have none at all. That was a depressing thought and I did a poor job wording it, but it definitely makes me wonder, do I have anything to say? Thus, an absence from blogging.

I think I just try to hard. How annoying, because people that try to hard annoy me!

From now on, I shall leave this strictly for ranting instead of trying to be thoughtful and deep. I'll leave deep for Hugo and Duchamp.

Monday, October 22, 2007

firsts

Janet told me the other day that I must know why I wish to pursue theatre. "Because I love it" is not an answer. I tried for a few minutes to answer, "I watch performances and my entire body aches in want of performing." No, not a good answer. "It is a unique challenge to portray someone else" No. "I can't imagine my life without theatre" Still not good enough. So my question is, what is a good answer? I'm sure she would know. I also am wondering, because I can't seem to figure it out, does that mean that I don't have the will to pursue acting? I realize that there is a block between my dreams and actually moving to New York. That block is experience, I have none.

More later.