One of His... One of Mine

Apparently I can write endlessly in this box, but not in the word document containing my Hebrew Scriptures paper. Maybe I should just write my paper on this blog? Each day can be a bullet point on my outline. (I have a wonderful outline, why can't I just stick to it!) Hmph.

How do I begin this story? I have a literature anthology textbook that my Dad's ex-wife used when she was at UMKC. He found it when we were finishing the basement and gave it to me. (It still has some of her old assignments and notes in it. One of which is a doodle my Dad made.) Anyway, it breaks up literature into different categories: Innocence and Experience, Conformity and Rebellion, Love and Hate, and The Presence of Death. And for some odd reason, I'm drawn to the works in the last one.

I'm half tempted to post dozens of the poems on here. However, I'll just post this one by Wilfred Owen (about WWI)

Dulce et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering chocking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est
pro patria mori.

-----

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori- "It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country" -Horace

I keep hearing Patrick Henry's "Give me liberty, or give me death!" or Nathan Hale's "I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country." How salty such quotes become weighed against that poem. (Not that I'm against patriotism, but it was a nice counterbalance to my overgrown romanticism.) So after reading dozens of morbid, wonderful poems I felt inspired to write a poem of my own. Now, let me reassure you that it is not profound or wise. It's more of a reaction: my own form of applause.

-----

What can I say of death?

I ask with lines of dark poetry
still stuck in my eyes.

Here is positive knowledge:
People allege to taste death,
they bargain, they make careers on it, they twist
metaphors and cook proverbs
They accept it, reject it, embrace it
or proudly wear it as their personality

Yet, has anyone truly
perceived their own
inevitable
death?

Has anyone truly perceived
their own
inevitable
life?

Perhaps the latter is shallow
enough for children to swim in
However, sometimes I wonder
if the answer to the two
are very very
similar.

John Singer Sargent and the color purple

I went over to Joe's yesterday to see my new favorite marine, Owen, Daniel, Amanda, and Jesse. Matt came with and we all played poker. When Daniel left to take Amanda home the party mellowed out and we all just sat around, occasionally watching youtube videos and chewing the fat. (As Holden Caulfield would say.) Joe's house burned down and since then he's been living with his very wealthy aunt and uncle who happen to be in Mexico indefinitely. His relatives have a fantastic book collection and it made me sad to hear that they only buy them for show. I wanted to rescue a few of them, particularly this fantastic book on John Singer Sargent, an artist I admittedly know very little about. I was flipping through the pictures and found this one: A Boating Party. It's absolutely lovely. I wish I could be the woman in the white dress. I wish I could think of a good word for that pinkish purple. Burgundy seems to dark, plum to purple, and lilac to light. I feel absorbed by it when I look into those leaves. I am certain that if I had synthesthia that color would play Schubert and taste like something sweet and weightless. (I misspelled Schubert and one of the recommended words was sorbet, how perfect!)

I have another purple item of pressing importance. My new night gown! Like almost everything I own, it was my mom's. I am wearing it around the house today because it is incredibly silky and makes me feel as if I'm in a different era, perhaps the turn-of the twentieth century? I'd take a picture, but I fear that may be inappropriate. I'll have to scurry to a robe if anyone comes home! Speaking of turn-of-the-century, my historiography paper bled on that phrase because apparently one must specify which century due to the millennium. Isn't it odd to think that we are young in a new century? Think of it, in 80 years... people will be able to say turn-of-the-century again and refer to the 2000's and look back at us the way we think of those in the early 1900's! I hope they like our fashion as much as I enjoy the Edwardian Era's style. Isn't it odd to view a Toulouse-Lautrec painting, with that old fashion that reads, "La Nouvelle Mode" I don't like how quickly new things become old.

And now I must say that this is the most spell-checked post I've ever written.

Theme for English B

The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you---
Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it's that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me---we two---you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York too.) Me---who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records---Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn't make me NOT like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white---
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me---
although you're older---and white---
and somewhat more free.

This is my page for English B.

1951-Langston Hughes

Ok, so I'm addicted to blogging.

Christmas break has provided a lot of free time, so I'm on the internet a lot. The irony is that I want to blog, but don't have much to say because I'm basically inactive! At least compared to what I'm used to with PSP and other crazy Truman things.

Down the Rabbit-Hole

I read Alice in Wonderland for the first time today. There was a Christmas poem Carroll wrote in 1897 that I want to share with you:

[From A Fairy to a Child]

Lady dear, if Fairies may
For a moment lay aside
Cunning tricks and elfish play,
'Tis at happy Christmas-tide.

We have heard the Children say-
Gentle children whom we love-
Long ago, on Christmas Day,
Came a message from above.

Still, as Christmas-tide comes round,
They remember it again-
Echo still the joyful sound
"Peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Yet the hearts must childlike be
Where such heavenly guests abide;
Until children, in their glee,
All the year is Christmas-tide!

Thus,forgetting tricks and play
For a moment, Lady dear,
We would wish you, if we may,
Merry Christmas, glad New Year!

---------------------------

What else is new you ask?

Well my next literary goal is Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. I've been meaning to read the book sense we potentially were going to Georgia. It's one of Mrs. Ledlow's favorites. (Miss Rusnak) Sarah gave it to me for Christmas a few years back. I like to read books that friends recommend because I respect their taste in books. Although, there are always exceptions. Emily and David love Twilight and I never could get into the series. Emily and I definitely agree in our love for Harry Potter. I think I need to reread the seventh book this break. Perhaps that can be next?

Well, it is nearly 2:15 in the morning and I meant to go to bed an hour ago. (Mathew, I am not on Skype!)

G'night!

No B Stings!

I got an A in Calculus!! I can't even believe it. Dr. Belanger is my hero... what an awesome teacher!

My Darling Readers

I miss you, how are you doing? How is your break?

Today was loverly. I met up with Tyler in B&N and we walked around aimlessly throwing ideas off each other and bragging about our respective universities. Afterward, we went for coffee at this cute place in the middle of Zona Rosa and admitted to each other that we used to have intellect wars, a sign of our immaturity. As is said in Emma: "Misdirected cleverness leads to all forms of mischief." --or something like that?-- Anyway, we established that neither of us were second generation Sophists and resolved to respect the others opinion or argument, as opposed to attacking it with a hammer. (Nietzsche: Philosophy with a Hammer/Tyler and Lauren: Discussion with a Pic Ax" Well, no more. We've both grown up a lot and it was wonderful to sit and chat with an old friend/rival and hash out important issues without ego or pretense. I hope that those days are behind me. It's rather embarrassing to think of.

Rosie also came and joined us after awhile and the three of us chatted away till Tyler had to leave, queuing Rosie and myself to leave for Bolings (DELICIOUS!) We ladies chatted about more girly topics like boyfriends and skimmed over old memories. Sometimes I feel like I'm to young to be nostalgic, but I can't help it!

It's 1:00 in the morning. I should probably leave it at that. I have a big day with the Berger's tomorrow.

All my love!

Feel the Burn

This semester, I stopped all forms of exercise. (I always forget that there is not a z in exercise and thus always spell it wrong!) Anyway, over break I returned to Pilates and it is KILLING me. However, after only a few days I'm starting to feel like I'm getting back in my summer shape. And yes, I am definitely blogging to brag. Haha. Not in a "look at my hot body" (I don't kid myself) sort of way... no.. more like, I am finally the type of person that sets goals and sticks to them. I never used to be like that. Other goals I am working towards over break include: finishing my Appold paper, organizing a PSP KC get-together, practicing French every day, and not be on the STUPID INTERNET ALL THE TIME. I fail miserably at the last one.

I finished Emma, such a good book. My next goal: move away from 19th Century British Literature. I think Annotated Alice will be a nice start or Kurt V. Any recommendations? Shoot, Carol wrote in the 1800's! Well, it's a different genre.

Belle

I saw my cat Belle sleeping on my parents bed today and thought it would be fun to grab my book and join her. That was noon, it's 5:00.

I definitely have had a cat day: i.e. not productive at all... although I did bite off a good portion of my book and also avoided the internet (my addiction) for five hours.

five hours of sleep, four hours of essays, three hours of driving and now...

I'm home!

I feel like my title should end with... "and a partridge in a pear tree!"

Five things from each class I learned this semester that you may want to know as well:

Calculus
1. Pierre De Fermat allegedly proved the Pythagorean triple, but the margin of the book in which he was writing was to small to contain it.
2. Newton's "On the shoulders of giants" quote was a direct stab at Robert Hooke,president of the British Royal Society, an uncommonly short man.
3. If you'd like to know the slope of the tangent line f(x)=3x+sin(x) take the derivative! f'(x) =3+cos(x)
4. To solve undefined integrals, you must always end with: +c
5. Tangent Approximation may be solved by the following formula: f(x) (is approximately) f(a)+f'(a)(x-a)

Chamber Choir
1. Nix on the vibrato in a choir setting - straight tone sounds best
2. RIGHT OR WRONG SING IT STRONG! (in reference to site reading, not performances)
3. Sulfage is not the worst thing in the world.
4. Lower ribcage should expand if one is singing properly
5. The value of listening... its wonderful to sing with such a talented group!

Francais Credit: Emily Fassi et M. Farley!
1. Je comprend francais un peu! J'aime le langue, c'est vraiment jolie!
2. Le passe compose est tres difficile! Avoir? Etre? Je ne comprend pas!!!!
3. Emily Fassi est superb! Elle est moi faison du piano ensemble souvent.
4. How to speak in the future with aller. Je vais au restaurant avec mes parents!
5. Le saison: l'ete, l'hiver, le printemps, et l'automne

Historiography
1. The definition of historiography: compare the writings of hisotirans
2. History is not a circle, rather a spiral
3. History is a conversation amongst historians
4. Stalin and Hitler were filthy bâtards (je m'excuse mon francais!) -- even more then I thought!
5. How to write in Turabian. Kate Turabian, you make my life difficult.

Hebrew Scriptures
(this one will be difficult, I learned so much!)
1. Foreign Conquests against Israel (chronologically): Assyria, Neo-Babylonia, Persia, Alexander the Great
2. D. Hypothesis: J, E, P, and D traditions
3. Isaiah was probably written by three different people
4. TNK: Torah, Nev'him, Kethubim (sp?)
5. The Hebrew Bible was not mean to be a factual account of historical events, rather interpretive history. God works in and among it.

Ancient Greece

1. Dogs would be wiser than people if pistis (realm of sights and sounds) was the highest form of knowledge
2. Smiles are ontologically dependent on mouths
3. Plato is worth the hype... there is a doorprize for all readers
4. I know many second generation Sophists! (Lovers of argument, not wisdom)
5. It is a struggle to go up the cave... but it's absolutely worth it. (Dr. Burton is the perfect guide up the divided line)

Ok... hope that wasn't to obnoxious! My semester was so interesting!!! All my semesters are interesting... COLLEGE is interesting. I am never leaving it, literally. :)

Next Semester:
Hebrew - Appold
French - Seiwert
Age of Jackson 1820-1840 - Hanley
Medieval Philosophy - Burton :)
Logic - Burton
Chamber Choir - Robertson

Ok, that's that. I don't have the energy to proof read, so I apologize for grammar/spelling errors!

Bursting

"Un conseil d'être heureux semble sortir des choses
Et monter vers le coeur troublé." -Bourget

I attempted Claude Debussy at my vocal recital tonight and the feedback has been remarkably positive. The piano, which plays in four, is in sharp contrast to the vocal arrangement, written in three. It's a challenging song for the best of singers and I feel like I did decently well. I definitely wasn't perfect, but I wasn't awful either. I'd say it was one of my best performances ever, actually. Nicole has taught me so much, I hope that she goes far with her vocal career, it is such an honor working with her.

Also, today at church Amy and I sang Silent Night in English and German. After church Dr. and Mrs. Appold took us (including mathew) to lunch at Mainstreet Cafe, my favorite place to eat in NE Missouri. We also took the long way home and stopped at old churches and a school yard. It was a unique Kirksville afternoon and I treasure taking the road not taken with a mentor and friends.

This has been an incredible semester... my life is so full of glorious cliches and I totally do not care.

Welp, must go sleep in order to (hopefully) ace all the finals!

filler

I am eating a delicious turkey sandwich with a tangerine! I put buffalo sauce on it, which sounds gross but it's very yummy. The orange also is aesthetically pleasing with the fresh green and purple lettuce. (It probably upped the caloric value a bit, though!) Oh well, it's culinary genius.

My weekend plans include:
Christmas Party Un - Dr. Haggerty's
Christmas Part Deux - LSF w/ Dr. Appold
Adventure to La Plata to buy honey from the Amish General store (with Amy)
Study group for Philosophy
Duet w/ Amy at Saint Pauls
Vocal Recital w/ Mathew
and STUDYING HARD CORE FOR FRENCH

I'm excited.

Oh and here is a poem I wrote two years ago.

What should a poet think
of a bird who keeps flying into her
window?

My kitchen claims the scene for
this queer flight of failure.
The bird, aiming to reach the room
will fly without inhibition and soon thereafter
meet the icy sting of window
and shortcoming.

Strange bird, it repeats this same method
like a ritual or religion;
over and over without deterrence,
without affect.

Leaning on my palm, I watch
wondering if I should extol this bird
for persistence or
laugh at its stupidity.

Such instances stick in writers thoughts
and philosophers seek for lessons
as poets hunt for metaphor.
Yet, nothing comes.

However, this queer scene
still seems oddly poetic,
regardless of how irrelevant
or small.
And with such a long absence from the pen,
this dryed up writer thanks the bird
for its metaphor:

even if she hasn’t quite figured it out.

I've been blogging habitually, as of late. So I apologize if I don't have much to say.

I'm on my way out the door, but I have ten minutes.

I really love my French class. I'm starting to hear the language better as well as understand much of the required vocabulary. Dr. Farley is an excellent professor and if you ever have the chance to take a French course, I highly recommend him.

Here is my attempt at a blog post in French:

Salut mes amis!

Il y a vraiment froid en plain air alors je dois mets un blouson et un e'sharpe. Ma copine Emily parle Francais tres bien et elle aides moi. Merci, Emily! J'adore Francais parce que il y a belle. Je dois aller du classe et suivre on cours de francais, l'histoire et le calcul. Je ne peut pas aller du classe. Zut!

A bientot!
-Lauren

I am physically drained.

Two more weeks... one of class, one of tests and then I'm home for a month.

In spite of all this, I have returned to reading for fun. I am reading This Side of Paradise. I've decided to leave it at home so I won't be tempted to abandon the book I'm forced to read. I'm also rereading Pride and Prejudice.

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth are perhaps my two favorite characters of all time. Jane Austen's wit is so amusing to me. I am sad to be done with all her novels, I can never read them with novelty again.

Mathew

Token blog post. (He always says I never post about him!)

Well, it is not ironic that this is on Thanksgiving.

I'm truly lucky.

Israel

This summer I had my heart set on going to London. Well, that didn't pan out. However, there is a trip that's more in my price range: Israel with Dr. Appold.

It's 5 weeks. We spend most of it in Israel at an archeological dig. Weekends are spent traveling to places around the middle east like Jordan, Egypt, Syria and other parts of Israel. We'd stay in a kibbutz just off the Sea of Galilee and have shabbat dinners every Friday.

Pair all this with the fact that I'll have a semester of Hebrew under my belt and you have a life changing experience that includes 6 credit hours!

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!

Dr. Appold told me students are allowed to bring home shards of pottery that the archeologists deem irrelevant. The anthropology nerd in me is purring very loudly.

Dr. Burton

Not to long ago, I switched my Theatre major to PHRE. It all happened when I walked into a professors office and asked for help with my schedule. I didn't know Dr. Burton very well, I had only gone to a few of her ballet classes and we briefly discussed aesthetics at a PBK last semester, but I did not expect her to recognize me, let alone know my name. Not only did she remember me, but she was incredibly excited to hear that I was interested in her field of expertise. Within seconds, I was in the process of filling out change of major forms and selecting her to be my advisor. She told me I could have an override into any of her classes and I chose History of Philosophy I: Ancient Greece. The class and the professor have both been phenomenal.

I'm the type of person that needs strong mentors. In high school I had three: (the R's) Mr. Rudzinski, Mr. Robson, and Miss Rusnak. The first was a history and theology teacher and it is no surprise that I am now majoring in most of his areas of expertise. Mr. Robson, my art teacher, taught me about my favorite truth excersize: plastic art. I only was able to spend a year with Miss Rusnak discussing literature, but in that year I learned I was not the greatest writer since Fitzgerald and that humble relization helped me improve.

All three of these people still keep in touch with me, especially Mr. Robson. In fact, I had the opportunity to spend time with him yesterday. He's so gloriously sarcastic and brilliant. Nearly all I know of art is due to his patience to answer my myriad questions. When I went into his office yesterday I noticed that so many of his attributes (the rotting apple, the half bitten cheese on the wall and the capes we made when we dressed up as him for super hero day) all still littered his wall. I just love how they share the wall with great works of Post Impressionism and Fauvism.

Anyway, I plopped into that chair and it was like seventh hour had recently ended, and it was just the two of us waiting for A-Team practice. I didn't realize how stressed out I was until he asked me how things have been. I told him of my crazy schedule, recent domestic issues, paradoxes, my always pulsing inferiority complex -- he listened, responded, shared his own troubles. It was so nice to catch up. His mentorship would be worth several chapters in an autobiography and I cannot express how much I appreciate his quite wisdom and the hours we've spent talking in that ridiculous office.

Dr. Burton's office is a place I'm starting to find solace in as well. Naturally, I do not talk to her about unacademic issues and we do not have nearly as many inside jokes, but she is helping me realize the vast possibilities available to Truman students. She also day dreams for me, which is fantastic. I love how excited she becomes when we talk about my future and what I can become. Princeton and the Rhodes Scholarship seem almost tangible with all of her encouragements. The latter is a long way off -- and it seems almost presumptuous to mention... but Dr. Burton and I will dream and I will do my best to be worthy of the future we invision.

Random Samplings

:)

My brain is anticipating Thanksgiving Break this week and thus is completely useless as of late. I can't motivate myself to do anything!

I feel like this blog entry is going to be as scattered as the rest of my mental output.

A few things:

A. I hate gilded relationships
B. I was elected PSP Scholarship chair (following in my Big's footsteps!)
C. Dr. Appold took myself and three other cool St. Paul Lutheran goers to lunch in Memphis and it was fantastic! (I ordered the Reuben, equally as wonderful!)
D. Emily Fassi will be living avec moi et Mary next semester. I'm excited! We are hoping to get a piano aussi!

Distracted

Although studying the rediscovery of the Mosaic Torah is interesting, I thought I'd take a quick break from Hebrew Scriptures to vomit.

Word vomit, that is.

Nothing mean or sharp. I'd just like to type the word disappointment and hopefully feel better.

Poetry and blogging have been two fantastic sources of mental acupuncture. And although these little entries may seem insignificant, they help.

On a different subject. I might be wrong, but I think I'm being stalked in the library. If I didn't have so much homework, I'd experiment by moving around.

I dumped 20 books into the library return slot.

My stress went with them.

Poem I wrote in Calc:

find the rate of change in me, x
where I seek infinity. +
define me unambiguously; x
that I may be solved =
mathematically. 2x

platitude

I attribute most of my academic success to the clever usage of post it notes.

Currently, I have five adorning my room.

Waiting to Rise

I can feel the dough beneath my fingers
press into the crevices of my hand.
I knead and pound, the way my mother did
and my grandmother before her,
forcefully ravaging the mixture of
flour, sugar, and yeast
to produce the sweet bread.
The recipe is known well to me,
a tradition I can remember, manifest
and taste.
Our history, though slightly distant here
is sensed in the aroma of Hallah,
and all the pounding.
All that is left,
all that one can do now,
is wait for the yeast to rise.

This poem is an iridescent string
pulled
from a cavity on my person.
One would think the string might
dissipate into the dry air,
but it remains.
How wonderful to have the line outside of me
away from the
abstract
and the realm of forms.
There it is:
an iridescent line,
proving my existentance and potential
immortality.

Things I Want for my Birthday:

-Acceptance to the 19th Annual PHRE Conference
-McCain to be a fiscally strong candidate
-London

hmmmmm.

I wore my Eponine hat!

What an incredible day! My Dad called on Tuesday asking if I'd be able to come home early because he had tickets to Les Mis. Little did I know, that those tickets would be five rows away from the stage. Best of all: they were free! His patient is the prop master at starlight and so she gifted them to us. I was expecting nose bleed section, instead I could see Val Jean's spit as he belted "24601!" Like I said, incredible. She also gave us a tour of the backstage and introduced me to one of the producers. I was half tempted to burst into song and BEG him to let me swing for Eponine, but alas, that is not socially acceptable. I saw a lot of the actors too, and their dressing rooms. The props are enormous when you're right next to them, I imagine it would be something else to actually work on that set.

Needless to say the show itself was great too. It drizzled the whole night, but I didn't mind because I had my Eponine hat. When she and Marius were doing "A Little Fall of Rain" it started to rain harder, it was absolutely idyllic!

I am so relieved to leave the stresses of Kirksville behind for a long weekend.

Oh, and on a very last and random side note: Dr. Burton is my hero. I think I'm going to class stalk her until I graduate. Minor in Burton? :)

metaphor

I have two art history anthologies and an aesthetics textbook. Sometimes when I look/read through them I feel empty and ignorant. I don't know how to make the feeling synonymous to something else I've experienced, except maybe that feeling after it rains: the air is so clean that my lungs feel dirty.

Teaser Trailer

I'd like to write a long post about this weekend, the house, auditioning for chamber choir, my improving boyfriend life, etc.

However, it's 12:00 on a school night, and I'm going to bed.

School Night!! Seriously, where did summer go?

Tomorrow's Game Plan:

Historiography
Calculus
French
[Lunch]
Latin
Choir

That's rough for a Monday.

Productive Day

Renew License (check)
Register Car (check)
Inspect Car (check)
Change Oil (check)
Say goodbye to Mr. Robson/Rudzinski (check)

I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. (Phil 3:14)

Ok the following might seem brag-gy... but I wanted to share the news with my friends and potential stalkers.

I was chosen to be one of sixty Phi Kappa Phi Emerging Scholars! What a blessing! I intend to use the money to pay for my application fees for London. When I applied for the scholarship I promised myself that, if awarded, I would definitely go. Obviously that was before the flood and other recent financial drains on my family, but perhaps a TSU cultural loan and a low interest credit card will do the trick. (Paired of course with a full time summer job for 2009)

In other news, I am quite anxious to return to studying and the awkwardly glorious pace of Kirksville life. I miss being with Matt all the time, Harry Potter (aka Sharon Shorts), the house, Phi Sigma Pi, Pickler, College Republicans, and the like...

My blog entries are pathetic... so I'm not going to try to end this gracefully.

Bye. :)

Kansas City

This is not going to be a fortune cookie blog update, rather a substantial reflection on what happened yesterday, because it was such a lovely day.

Where to start?

My brother is a world class trap shooter, I mean the type of kid that can hit 100 flying targets in a row and not feel overly proud of himself. My Dad is his number one fan and the two headed down to Sparta Illinois Sunday for the Olympics of shooting: the Grand American. In the past, my mom and I have come along but stayed in St. Louis because for non-trapshooters the place is a heated death trap that kills the soul if there for over 6 hours. I kid you not, I've never been so bored in my life. The boys hate it when we're there because we complain about the heat, boredom, country music etc. (I know, we're prissy but they love us anyway.) Well this year my family has been relatively frugal since my parents have to pay off two house payments (i.e. this one and the one up in K-Ville) I know things will loosen up when we start receiving rent checks, but anyway we weren't able to go on vacation in that area due to the price of gas, hotels, etc. (St. Louis is overrated anyway!)

Instead, the ever thrifty Greenspan Girls embarked on a "staycation" in Kansas City. Day One was filled with movies and cats curled up in our laps.

Day Two was more eventful. We enjoyed an afternoon on the plaza and a delicious meal at the Cheesecake Factory. (We avoided the actual cheese cake for the sake of our budget and waistline) however my chicken dish was orgasmic and it included mashed potatoes, which, all that know me can attest to, they my favorite food in the whole world. (Two things: I know it is little kid like to have my favorite food be a side dish, and second I know that I haven't tried all the food in the world, but so far, they win.) Anyway, I just love the plaza. The Spanish architecture makes me wonder how similar it is to that of "Espania." If I visit Michael in Spain next year I'll know for sure. Also, I can't drive by the Nelson without my stomach dropping in excitement. It's beautiful to see. In my mind, I can't imagine a better place to live than this historic, lovely, and seasonal city. (Ok, maybe London will be exponentially more historical and exciting, but Kansas City still has been a wonderful place to grow up.) I kept thinking that today when my mom and I were out and about. I felt premature nostalgia for this summer and the time with my mom and I found myself hoping that she and the city would never change. I'm not wishing down the days to Truman as fervently anymore.

And last but not least, I made an impulse purchase on overstock.com. In my defense... it was refurbished and $50 cheaper than usual. It's also red, which is my favorite color. And it's mince ... I actually had the chance to employ some of the french I've been learning. Je suis :). mince = thin. Tu es grosse? No, je suis mince! Forgive me, I may have just butchered that.

So dear blog readers, now you know two favorites of mine... :)

Also, I refuse to spellcheck - edit anything I've written, so you'll just have to deal with all my grammar mistakes green squiggly line.

the one in which she admits it

I am addicted to the internet. There I said it, now I'm going to go check my facebook.

Dark Chocolate Philosophy take two

On second thought, my previous post on the dove quote wasn't that awe inspiring. I think I just wanted to title a post "Dark Chocolate Philosophy"

Kent peer pressured me into blogging and I quote, "do it, DO IT" - hence this post.

I do that a lot. I type "thus, this post" as if I'm trying to justify blogging. Maybe deep down I feel vain? May deep down I AM VAIN.

Oh dear.

Bitter Sweet

I thought Truman week started the 11th, but in actuality it starts the 18th. That means I have a whole week more than I originally thought. I'm oddly excited, although still anxious to get school started again. It's another semester to prove that the last two weren't a fluke.

What else? Matt and I had a hot date! We met in a really uppity part of Kansas and had a wonderful lunch (french onion soup, stuffed shrooms, quesodillas...) and then we saw Dark Knight. (Jury is still out on whether or not it deserves to go under favorite movies on facebook - my immediate guess would be no.)

Schedule

I have chance my Fall schedule at least 6 times.

I dropped Stagecraft
I dropped Theatre Practice
I dropped History and Lit I
I added Judaism
I added Hebrew Scirptures
I added LAS Calculus
I am going to drop either Judaism (300) or Hebrew Scpritures (400) to add French
Thus, I intend to add French if I can get an override...

Meh, truview is dangerous for the indecisive.

I want to take French because Molly said the program does an excursion to Paris and it would be nice to Parle Vu a little Franc-ay. (I can't spell French words yet, so give me a break)

I'll still keep taking Latin because it's a beautiful language... however it might be overwhelming to have 4 classes MWF and only 1 on TTH. Hmm.. or it can be nice to have all that time for MWF's homework? I don't know. I know that Historiography stops 1/2 way through the semester to give us time to write our research paper. (15 pages!!!)

I am going to write the best paper of my life for that class for several reasons: I want to be accepted early into Phi Alpha Theta, I want to be published in a historical journal, and I really like the feeling of writing a great paper. For now, I can't decide on a topic...

Ben Franklin: A Historographical Sketch Seeing the Founder Through Various Spectacles

Jesse James: Terrorist or Confederate Martyr

Anne Boleyn: If Only There Were Sonograms in the 16th (just kidding)

---

Lastly, can't wait for Truman!

Babysitting and Numismatics

Liam and Addison went down for their nap and aren't expected to wake up for two hours.
I'm making $32 to read and surf the net as they sleep.

Speaking of money, the basement flooded again. This time destroying $400 dollars worth of dehumidifiers and fans. Luckily, we figured out exactly what causes the flooding and will soon be digging trenches in the backyard. I just hope it doesn't look like WWI out there.

Also, I am founding an Art Theory Society called Ars Gratia Artis (Art for Art Sake). We'll meet at Java Co. once every other week and invite professors to discuss various aesthetic philosophies. Join or Die. (wait, wrong time period)

Speaking of! My dad emptied his lock box at the bank and showed me his coin collection. I had no idea he was into numismatics! Anyway, he has a silver dollar worth 2,500 dollars and a Mass. 1/2 cent dated 1776! The anthropologist in me was thrilled. Maybe Sam Adams used that very 1/2 cent to buy Indian attire or a lager? Perhaps some pissed off Patriot had to spend it on the Stamp Tax?

Dark Chocolate Philosophy

Dove made a good point:

"Failure is only the opportunity to begin again more intelligently."

London

Good news.

The other day my mom was like, "... and Lauren will be in London then."

I think that means I'm going.

Score!

I hate that when thinking of the word confession an obnoxious Usher song plays.

Confessions:

1. Sometimes I imagine people reading my blog and finding me adorable.
2. I self-depricate way to often in public. Last night I realized how awkward that is.
3. I went online shopping for school supplies. I really miss going to class.
4. Sometimes I think I'm a misanthrope. Which is oddly contrasting to my other side that hopes to contribute to humanity, if not help save it.

I keep day dreaming about London. Strawberry lagers, European history, traveling around, improving my British accent... I just hope it all works out. (Let's hope some of my scholarships come through.)

Matt and I have discussed the possibility of separating while I'm abroad. The idea is nauseating. We have a state of the art support system for ourselves. It's hard to just let that go. Perspective will aid in our relationship, I know it in my brain. I just can't stomach it.

Perhaps more later on the latter... perhaps not? One thing is certain, can't wait for the Fall!!! I'm excited to be in the house with three awesome girls, our cat, and a peach tree.

Today I went swimming with Julie in my new swim suit bottoms. That was fun but now I'm a bit sun burned, as usual. It's the Eastern European Jew in me. The freckles come from the blasted German Lutherans. I suppose I was born to be a pale. One summer I intend to accept that.

I am afraid Calc. has the potential to butcher my winning streak... oh well, I kind of like the class for some unknown reason. The type of thinking used is not static algebra but variables in motion, to picture that is very abstract and interesting. I don't pretend to be good at the process, just mildly entertained.

London

I am going to London in the Spring!

Well, there is about an 85% chance.

Jolly Good!

Weird Dreams

I keep having dreams of infidelity. Maybe I shouldn't post that on my blog. I told Matt and he is not angry that I cheat on him in my dreams. Sometimes its reverse and he cheats on me.

Freud, what's wrong with me?

Love,
-Another Jewish Case Study

Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog

We studied this painting while discussing Kant's concept of the sublime. A sense of majesty understood through reason and thus mastered, how enchanting is that scene? I wish I could trade places with him. After reading Wordsworth I wonder if Missouri can inspire the same sense of ecstasy with nature experienced by the Romantics. I suppose there have been times when I've felt crippled by the beauty of a Kansas City sky, however I feel like what Casper David Friedrich was experiencing in this image, is so much greater, something I've never understood.

All of this makes me wonder if I have been missing something, something essential. How would the fulfillment of this x value flavor the syntax in which I view life, art, and all the other topics that pop into my malleable mind? This painting evokes void in my heart instead of the glorious sublime. Void and jealousy. And although I fear this post sounds pretentious, as so many of my writings do, I have to emit my feelings. Thus, this post.

Incomplete Story

There was something catching about the way her hair spilled over the grass. The careless tangles, split ends, the occasional brilliant curl contrasted with stick straight locks of brown, all summing up a careless beauty vacant in her awkward features. He noticed she wasn’t beautiful; her lips were to thin, her elbows to dry, hazel eyes bright but not charming. And yet, her hair was to beautiful for her to be ugly. The brunette sat up, covered in grass. “What is it about a cemetery that makes you feel so alive?” inquired she, dancing nimble fingers along a sepulcher while passing it. The boy watched her. He knew she had said that to sound poetic, and said so. Indignant she cried, “nothing of the sort” and ran along, red dress floating with her, feeling quixotic and beautiful, as if she were Holly Golightly, yet the boy saw no resemblance.

New Layout

Like my new blog duds? I do.

Subtle and classy, everything I daily strive to be!

Hmm.. I really do come off like a pretentious ass sometimes. Trust me, it's not on purpose.

Good Day

Today was a good day. I babysat that cutest baby in existence, worked out, found out the math I'm taking is worth 5 credits AND comes with friends. (or at least old acquaintances) Plus, a tornado siren interrupted everything and we got to go home early. (Albeit the drive was dangerous.) Moreover, the teacher literally called the class "watered down Calculus." It doesn't get much better then that.

Other exciting news? Well, I am probably switching my Theatre major into Philosophy and Religion. I dropped stagecraft and theatre practice and will probably drop Hist and Lit I. Let me say that dropping the above wasn't like throwing off clothes to jump into a pool. The decision was/still is hard.

I don't know... sorry, I just got really sick of blogging.

telephone wires

She drove an unnoteworthy distance,
in the backseat of a car.
Her eyes followed the telephone wires,
that for her, formed musical bars.
A poem was stuck in her head,
the words: incomplete,
they were weightless and simple
yet still, inevitably concrete.

My Mom had an Eddie Bauer SUV named Eddie.
Then she traded it in for an explorer, Edward.
Now she has a Volvo, named Edvard.

Alfred Lord Tennyson Selected Poems

I clicked the title thingy and it gave me an option of titles from recent google searches my family made on this computer. I chose that one because it reminds me of Dr. Pearce. (My Dad must have been looking up Crossing the Bar.)

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.

I really miss Dr. Pearce. He planned his whole funeral. We even sang "Home on the Range" and "When the Saints Go Marching In" at his request. Sometimes I wonder if he can watch me and if his opinion of me has changed since he no longer gets the unabridged version of Lauren Rachel Greenspan. It makes me wonder what I'm like to read objectively without my defense mechanisms in play. I'm not even sure who that person is. How cliche, a nearly post-teenager questioning her identity.

Hello Blogdom - did you miss me?

Today is SCHEDULE BLOG! I am about ready to schedule for classes and need to kill time. Thus you, blog, shall be my murder weapon.

4:45- 15 minutes left... nerves!

The only class I'm really worried about getting into is Stagecraft. I'm not so sure if I want to take Stagecraft, drills and all not being my forte. However, Sarah seems to enjoy it - plus I need it to take the classes I want to take. (i.e. scene design, lighting, etc.)

10 more minutes...

Sorry, I'm going to go wander around facebook.

What state of reality have I been living in?

Today in class my professor showed photographs of abject poverty in Africa. I have always been aware of such suffering, but I haven't been conscious of them. Usually I would say something similar to "words can't describe" or "language is futile" but that's an easy way out. For one, it prevents me from actually thinking about the issue. It allows me to slip back into an anesthetized existence. Mr. Rudzinski would constantly bring me to catharsis in his classroom. He would illustrate human suffering and fallacy and then the bell would ring and I would be purged of feelings of injustice or a call to alms. Brecht purposefully rejected his audience catharsis for that very reason. So that people would go out, pick up tools, and help.

Africa is a life experience away from me. How can I help? This feeling of complete ineptitude floods me. This is a new level, a new understanding but I don't believe I'm going to do anything about it -- that is a poverty beyond what I can bare right now. However, soon I'll be distracted. I'll go to Ward Connerly tonight and think about Affirmative Action, and then I'll get over it.

Make-a my day Jew

Had to quote Borat. I'm Jewish, I can make make Jewish Jokes.

Today Matt and I discussed my potential stand-up routine. Here is my first "bit."

Don't you hate it when people mix english and espanol!? It's very irritating!

(booz induced hysterics)

Thank you all! You've been great!

A non-depressing post- enjoy!

I'm in the SUB outside of Jasmines Cafe and I need to go to the library, but can't bring my mocha with me. What's a girl to do? The answer: Blog until her drink is gone.

Therefore: A BLOG POST!

I'm having a good day. I woke up at 7 to find that my alarm had lost power, thus I reset it for 8 and didn't miss class. (That would have been bad.) One should never miss a Dr. Gall class. They're too good.

I'm also excited to be drinking this mocha... thanks to Alex complaining about people drinking Mocha's I have found this new beverage. Would it sound overstated to say that chocolate, espresso, and soy make the trinity of hot drinks? Probably. However, I'm really okay with being overstated. My loquacious sense adds to the length of research papers. (Well it used to till I was told that it was obnoxious and now I can hardly write a paragraph because I'm sum up thoughts in sentences.)

Rambling..

So, what to say? I suppose I should admit something. I really miss Sarah. (She reads my blog so I can passively address her.) She is wonderful and we both are to busy to see each other this semester. That must change. I'm very proud of her for pursuing theatre, something I'm to intimidated to do. So as Sean Hannity always says, You're a Great American. Bah, I hate Sean Hannity.

Ok, I think I'm almost done with this drink.

In conclusion... good day, miss Sarah, like Mocha's and scared to be a theatre major..

TTFN

Sometimes I'm really insecure.

Especially recently...

Blah, why am I so depressing! I don't feel depressed until I reflect on writing my thoughts. Usually, I'm joyful or at least content. But introspection depresses me. Thus, insecurity.

On Liberty

(I'm sorry J.S. Will for stealing your title.)

Like most of my scattered posts, this one shall be brief.

I can't audition for one-acts. I simply do not have the time. I'm really glad I pledged Phi Sigma Pi but I hate that I this semester has been at the cost of theatre. I love theatre. It's my one high, and yet I'm not doing anything theatre related this semester. I don't think I should go to the theatre banquet because I'm a pathetic excuse for a theatre major.

Time is one trapping... but not the only.

To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour. -Blake

blogging en route to baldwin

Today on the way to my 8:30 class I mentally blogged. Sometimes I do this but never get around to actually posting my thoughts. (I realize of course that this is no great disappointment to my readers.) Should readers be plural? Perhaps reader is better. Anyway, below are a few thoughts:

This morning was easy to begin. The usual resistance I feel to getting up, walking in the cold, and trying to focus in class was lifted. This morning I kept thinking about how miserable I usually am en route to Baldwin. Why? Why do I always approach effort with malaise? This morning the sun was out and made the snow shine into my eyes. The whole quad was light and glittering. (I could expand with overplayed similies but I'll let the majesty of the morning go undescribed.)

I must admit, today will be a good day.

A brief interruption from your regularly scheduled program...

I love Sarah Shorter.

That is all.

Ode to Imitations of Immorality

Last Saturday seems a little surreal. That's not me.

I hate it when I'm fake.

I'm a part-time misanthrope that wants to save humanity

Most of the time, when I find something stupid, I don't respond. I think, "I'm not going to honor this with a response." This leads to a lot of opinions being swallowed out of respect to B.F. Skinner's Behaviorist Theory.

What I really want to say is that I wish that people would just step outside their own perspective and consider how truly ignorant they are. The library is humbling. The idea of academia is humbling. We can't possibly have a definitive, "this is absolutely right", opinion on politics or aesthetics. Don't get me wrong, I believe in absolute truth- I just don't think society knows how to discuss it.

Language is so crippling. And I hate people who think they've mastered it because they have used an SAT vocab word.

misera sum

Lauren didn't go to Latin today. But she did go to the sub where she saw her Latin teacher.

I hate this semester.

Errors

There are a lot of typos in my blog. I guess thats a testament to how little effort and thought I apply to this journal of sorts.

I fear I've misplaced the ability to write. I used to just sit down at a keyboard and go - but now I am blank. I've felt this void for almost a year now.

I can't stand reading my whining.

You heal my back, I'll scratch, massage, lather in gold yours

My back is killing me. The pain has become more severe as the week progresses. I am constantly aware of my spinal cord and lumbar region, which is inflamed and cursing me! I feel like I am constantly complaining about it, which I'm sure frustrates those who are frequently around me. (cough.. Sarah and Matt) By the way, coughing hurts the most. And as I recover from Bronchitis, I find that coughing is not an easy symptom to avoid.
My Dad, who happens to be a D.O., did a treatment last weekend, but to no avail. I think it only helped my neck.

I know this sounds crass, but damn it, I feel like I'm eighty years old with osteoporosis.

Web MD that my systems may be caused by stress. I feel like my back pain is the cause of the stress.

I'm going to go to sleep and stop bitching...

There was a time when I believed that I would be an accomplished and famous writer, (replace writer with other faculties such as: art critic, actress, political philosopher or theologian) and Mr. Robson said that I might actually change things.

There should probably be more on this, but I'm going to bed. Long story short, I feel mediocre. I feel mediocre a lot.

A Blog for Blogs Sake

Hello.

So it's 3:30 in the morning and I can't sleep. My tummy hurts from my prescription pills which are also giving me dry mouth. I'm very aware of the fact that I am whining but I also don't really care.

So what to blog...

Bronchitis has sucked. I whine about it a lot to Matt, my parents, and sometimes Sarah (although I try to spare her.) Matt, who also has Bronchitis, promises we will be better by Super Tuesday. If not, at least we will have an Xbox 360 to play when we're cooped up indoors. Matt returned the iPod Sarah and I got him for money towards an Xbox and it should be coming any day now. I miss playing video games. I challenge anyone to Mario cart for N64, I will beat you.

I will beat you, wow that's some sad trash talk.

Well, here is my unusually long rant. Enjoy.

Matt is being mean to Lauren by massaging her feet. What a jerk. He is always a jerk like that. He takes care of me when I am sick, takes me out to dinner, remembers our stories. Geez Ass Hole!

I just switched from third to first person.

Winter Break

It's over. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

I'll keep you posted.

New Years GOTE

I'm not a big fan of New Years Resolutions. I feel like if you want something changed, you shouldn't wait till the New Year. Although, I do see how it's nice to think you're getting a fresh start. Anyway, Sarah and I were once talking about our GOTE's (an acting exercise) and I realized it would be interesting to make a GOTE for my life, instead of the character I'm playing.

So thus this is my GOTE for the New Year: (not exhaustive)

GOALS -
1. Make a show this year, (whether it be one act, mainstage, or lab show) Along with that I'd like to improve my acting...
2. Hit that Phantom of the Opera E during a voice lesson
3. Spend more time thinking about my faith and discussing it with others
4. Get an A in Chemistry
5. Get out more
6. Meet with A.T. Still people to talk about medical school
OBSTACLES -
1. I don't have a lot of experience with acting. I'm practically brand new.
2. I'm only at the High High C- (and it's very weak) plus I have D to jump over. My voice gets tired after an hour.
3. THE DEVIL. Just kidding, probably the fact that it's taboo to talk about faith or at least uninteresting to a lot of people, and I'm easily distracted.
4. I've always done poorly in Science (ACT 23 on Science section) and I've never taken Chemistry. I know K is potassium?
5. My own fault for just being a dorm room homebody.
6. I'm lazy and don't follow up with emails.
TACTICS
1. Acting I helped me strip a lot of my bad habits. Some of them return when I'm nervous (i.e. Intro to Theatre final) However, now that I'm practically blank I can start improving on the techniques learned. (such as employing GOTE and an inner monologue)
2. I'll hit that E by doing diaphragm exercises, not drinking a lot of milk or soda, practicing frequently, and the like.
3. I'm not sure about this one... any ideas?
4. STUDY a lot and DO NOT get behind on the homework and studying. Go to AXE tutoring sessions.
5. Just try to make plans with people I suppose? I'm really lazy about that.
6. Follow up on emails...
EXPECTATIONS
1. I probably won't make a mainstage, I'm just not there with my abilities. However, a lab show would be ideal and the one acts would be a great opportunity to grow as an actress.
2. I might be able to make it by the end of the year... fingers crossed!
3. To be honest, I'll probably do very little with this one. Which is sad because it's the most important to me. I just feel blocked, does that make sense?
4. I'll get an A in Chemistry, it's just going to suck earning it.
5. I'll definitely do this one. We have a house, no excuse to not get out of the dorm.
6. I'll meet with an ATS student and talk about whether or not medicine is something I'd like to pursue.