"The choice was mine and mine completely." -Eva Peron in the musical "Evita"
I just ate a bowl of some delicious Broccoli ( hey...Broccoli has two "c's"...didn't know that before.) Penne Alfredo pasta. I look down at the bowl and discover that I've managed to eat everything but the broccoli.
"This is crazy defeatist talk-" -Eva Peron in the musical "Evita"
I am drinking soy milk straight from the carton. I can't tell if I'm a red-neck or an elitist. I can tell that I am severely put off.
I don't think that BYU is going to let me keep my New Zealand job...for no actual reason that I can deduce. Apparently they don't like ( by "don't like" they mean "CRUSH ANY HOPE OF AND SET THE FRAGMENTS AFLAME") to allow students one extra semester before graduation to get ESL minors, teach in New Zealand and get an internships.
Because then, heaven forbid, people might actually graduate with valuable skills.
They strictly shut you down because they desire all students to complete the exact same...rather unstellar...program together to maintain the "integrity of the program". What ever happened to working with students to get as much success out of them as possible? I have done all the math. I have done all the work. It is NOT a difficult thing at all. In fact, really, everyone can only benefit from my participation in these three programs, including my future students. Give me a program with my interests at heart. THAT, my friends, is a program with integrity. Elementary Education majors here don't really get the "options". They don't think we want a stellar career. They think that we want a degree...and if necessary...a mediocre career. I am tired of fighting. WHAT IS GOING ON!? I have started expecting things to be disappointing despairfests. I will have plenty of angst to use when I write my first children's book- "Megan's awful, no good, very bad semester." It'll be a hit. Come on Universe! Don't destroy me now. I'm too young, driven and beautiful to be crushed with demands of mediocrity! HELP! I've decided to encapsulate my rage in the form of the above posted image. It comes from one of the more tragic, dark, romances told in the Decameron-namely that of Isabelle and Lorenzo; two Spanish lovers whose affairs are foiled when Lorenzo is murdered by Isabelle's snobbish brothers. Isabelle, who is completely out of her orbit with love, as most romantic protagonists are, keeps Lorenzo's decapitated head in a jar and grows a Basil plant in it...which she then waters with her tears...or something disturbingly unnatural like that. I have witnessed the murder of my entire awesome career ( Universe...my karma compensation had better be good. Real good.) but I shall try to get some basil out of it. Hey, it's my right to be pathetic. El Ed Program Managers wouldn't have it any other way....believe me, I've tried.
Every once in a while I find myself inquiring deeply-almost pleadingly-for someone to acknowlege any of the regrets of their institution. The following is a pretty accurate representation of what I get.
"All discarded lovers should be given a second chance, but with somebody else" -Mae West
So, I've got this soft spot in my heart...which I've been trying to beat into submission for years. The truth is that I, like everyone's favorite singing, repentant Arkansas racist, Nellie Forbush, am nothin' but a cock-eyed optimist. I have this strange desire to believe the best about people. I try to be smart. I try to be direct and hard-core. I play a mean hard ball in a scrape. Trust me, you don't even want to be in the room- but at the end of the day I honestly believe that people change and that they deserve second chances. The problematic portion of this belief resides in an equally problematic ratio within the human race: about 100,000 complete and utter jackasses for every legitimate Jean Valjean. I keep telling myself that I should learn from the example of the prophet Jonah, who refused to see how another people could be forgiven when he himself had been forgiven for his rather egregious whale-inducing crimes ( "A flawed mortal prophet!" you ignorantly decry. Yes. I will call you out for the insanity that leaves your mouth on this blog, while I am willing to simply tolerate your crazy and mock you privately when you open your mouth in person.) But still, I just keep finding that people don't deserve it. They tend to revert, not only to their old and usual behavior, but add to it a whole new level of jackassery the second time around. Now, while I tend to give people second chances, I am also appropriately emotionally detached when working with other people ( not all people, just the peer level ones. Others I either consider with indifference or intense, yet thoroughly classy, anger, sadness or fear. Peers, and non-powerful idiots...detached is the way to go). This emotional detachment makes my observations of people digging themselves further into my poor graces all the more interesting/ uneventfully entertaining. It's like watching a lemming leap off a cliff and drown itself ( PLOP! "Hmmmm. Whoa. You know, I think I really shoulda' seen that one coming *nonchalant bite of sandwich*, but it still shocks me every time." GLUB GLUB "Yep...wait...I didn't order pickles with this.") But here's the kicker...I always end up thinking "Well, there is no way any rational creation of God could have failed so spectacularly on purpose. It all must've been a mistake and I'll give them another chance." *fishes lemming out of the puddle* SECOND CHANCE: PLOP! *Looking down at ripples in puddle* "Hmmmm." *Looking back at the sandwich* "Man, I loooooove dijon mustard. This is fabulous." I mean, dealing with these proverbial lemming people really doesn't bother me too much personally. It just wears steadily down on my faith in humanity.
When I first stepped off the Boat in France, there were two things to greet me at the port waiting area. 1: A large "Welcome to France" sign, written in many languages.
And THIS on a television screen playing the top twenty music videos.
Ya....welcome to France.
It turns out that there are multiple versions (HERE and HERE) of this music video...because I watched them all at the port...feeling very surreal.
I now have a crush on Julien Dore, who apparently became famous by winning a reality T.V. show. His first hit was "Moi...Lolita" which was originally made famous by "Alizee" a female French popstar. Julien Dore, who is also the great grandson of famous illustrator Gustave Dore, sang the song with all the original words and from a female perspective...which works in a weird way... by emphasizing it's haunting... creepiness.(?)
But thinking back on the song "Les Limites"... here is the English translation for your convenience.
I easily go beyond all bounds, when I have a go at it I consume enormously The aim is to feel things So I go overboard, and I like to exaggerate it irks brave and reasonable people who keep within the bounds
Hey this is no dream, I know when I stop, I’ll be Leaving Paris I know, later I’ll pay for this*
I overstepped the bounds Easily Readily Yeah, I overstep the bounds Without problems of ethics
I will pay for that I’ll end up in hard labor I’ll be breaking stones in Guyane
I overstepped the bounds Easily Widely When I start I finish My job properly I consume of course the most liquids possible and sometimes even solids nicely plump and chubby
So, I couldn't help but notice that, on my last note, I described one of the highlights of my day as "someone complementing my hat."
Now, since I am incapable of human error, and the very act of admitting and seeking to apologize for any such non-existent error, will, no doubt, cause a mass megan-ostasy resulting in everyone losing complete and utter faith in Deity's hand in giving me any sort of inspiration or power to perform good works in society , I now offer this apologetic.
You, my dear readers, are simply misinterpreting what I meant to say to gratify your own fault-seeking natural-man thoughts ( which, I may add, offend the spirit and make your own contentious opinions moot). The spirit of contention is of the devil, my friends, so if you are choosing to be offended by my/that sentence, perhaps you should try praying and reading your scriptures more until you are able to accept the truthfulness of the sentence I wrote. If it doesn't make "since" to you, you are just looking beyond the mark, and even if you don't mean to be contentious, it sure might look that way, and are we not counseled to "avoid the appearance of evil"? Maybe, if you held family home evening with greater regularity your worldliness would not be shaking your sure foundation now.
And really, I MEANT to say "complemented", in that context, because I was simply so full of Christ-like charity that I couldn't help but notice how well that person went well together with my hat.
Note: Should you try to find that non-existent error now, you will not find it published because, while it was correct yesterday, the glorious reality of progressive revelation makes it so we interpret it differently now, and in order to protect your weak faith, the word has been updated to it's now current form. This has nothing to do with committing fraud to protect my image or maintain a potentially abusive amount of power, because I never committed error in the first place which would need correction. Now, since I am one of the universe's most firm and steadfast enforcers of free agency, you may choose to believe that I committed error ( just as you may choose to be offended by my tendency to write run-on sentences),but if you attempt to speak out publicly, publish, or try to convince others of your opinions, you will be taken before the disciplinary council for possible ex-meganumication, unless you reject your faith-destroying opinions and see the light again. I mean, don't you have better, more Chirst-like things to do, like happily celebrate how flawless my blog is and talk about the weather?
If only we'd stop trying to be happy we'd have a pretty good time. -Edith Wharton
I miss being so easily entertained.
Now I am only seriously entertained by the entertainment of others.
I can't remember the last time I laughed like this.
Seriously though. I don't laugh all that much anymore. I think it has something to do with the big thick no-nonsense armor I put on when I feel threatened...or am surrounded by idiots....or am surrounded by threatening idiots who tend to be bigger and taller and generally more likable than myself. Dang.
So, I will now just list a few dorky, girly things I like under all this armor and will deny if you confront me in person.
Fluffy Pink Flamingos Lacey Silky Things Big Poofy Skirts Compliments Mirrors (I don't know why I like mirrors. I don't think I'm particularly attractive, but for some reason I just find them really soothing.) RUBBER BALLS Jumping up and down Giggling! OH THE GIGGLING! I miss you the most. Telling Jokes Hugs Shiny Lip Gloss CUTE FLUFFY HAMSTERS. OH MY GOSH. I suddenly craved a Hamster when I found this. ( The moment I saw you on that piano, eating that popcorn, I knew you were no ordinary hamster.) Smiling at people Snuggling Oreo Chocolates The Gym Sparkles The color red the color pink watching my skirts make pretty shapes when I spin When I think no one is looking or I am with friends who I feel safe with, I like to slide on the ice I like talking to myself I also like unicorns ( which I sadly know are not real...) Nail Polish Time Magazine Reading for Leisure Yoga Sleeping in Face Masks Pretty smelling perfume Flowers Sighing Being completely relaxed and trusting another human being completely (I think the last time I did that I was like in the third grade) Pillows Graphic Novels ( I know right...I know...like Persepolis) Glitter Nail Polish Mountains Pretty Bodies of Water Pretty Boys Romantic Movies and Books Imagining that I can kick trash rolling around on my bed Dancing like a lunatic in my room to loud music ( happens a lot...happens a lot) Macaroni and Cheese ( shaped...it has to be shaped) Sleeping on the couch Orange Chicken Fluffy sweaters Electric Blankets
...I'll think of more later when I decide I am taking things too seriously and I need to chill.
Good things that happened today.
An undisclosed amount of money was inserted into my account from BYU. Whao.
I found all my textbooks online for cheaper than at the bookstore.
It was SNOWING!
I had all the warm clothes I needed.
The snow was in really big crystals so that I could see the individual shapes.
I played catchphrase with my friends.
I got to read for fun.
I ate a yummy sandwich for lunch.
There was a sale on really nice leather-bound file dividers so I bought five. They are very pretty.
Someone compleminted my hat.
I skipped and slid home and didn't fall down once! HA! I laugh at the fates! ( close call one time though)
I went to bed early...just now. Because I'm tired yo.
" A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. " -Irina Dunn 1970
...not necessary but much more interesting...
Every once in a while someone will say what I've been trying to articulate for years. The following is an excellent post which I will leave the link to here (just in case you want to check my facts or comment to the lovely authoress), but since i know we are all lazy daughters-of-guns I will also just post it directly on the page for you. Ta-da!
"By: fMhLisa - January 3, 2009
I wrote this post exactly four years ago. I feel like my writing and my feminism have become more disciplined(maybe), but it’s a pretty good post, if I do say so myself.
I Don’t Need a Man
But I do want one. And as luck would have it . . .
It starts with the idea that women and men are fundamentally different, complementary differences that make us need each other. We are in fact essential to each other. This is pretty bare-bones fundamental to Mormon belief. I think. And it’s all nice and neat in theory but on a practical level . . . not so neat.
I don’t know where I stand exactly on the whole biology is destiny thing. I know the Proclamation on the Family makes me nervous and uncomfortable. But it also seems to be clearer and clearer that science is supporting the notion that some of the differences between men and women are actually pretty-well hard-wired into our chemistry.
This in many ways is a relief to me, silly as that sounds. I like being a girl and if I can defend my girl stuff with religion and science all the better.
But still I have to say I’m really uncomfortable with a blanket statement that says men and women need each other. So far as I can figure here’s why:
1. While many Mormons say this with good intentions, talking about celestial things and heady deep gospel principal stuff. Idealistic and hopeful. The fact is, that “needing men” translates into some very earthly unpretty ways. And no matter what intentions you say it with, how people hear it does matter.
2. To say women need men is very different, feels different, sounds different than to say that men need women. Just when you look at it from the weight of history and the way it sticks in the gut.
I don’t know how to say this exactly, but history had been pretty easy on a man with no woman, so the “need” is really more of a luxury than a desperate fundamental actual need. Whereas history has been brutal on a woman without a man. BRUTAL. It’s even deeper than the whole bachelor vs. old maid mindset. But that is a good place to start. At best women without men were pitied and marginalized, at worst cast-out and destroyed.
So just to say that men and women need each other, while it sounds quite egalitarian on the surface, it really isn’t. The option always has been open for men and closed for women. Not so much now-a-days, but the weight of it is still there, and the dregs of it still affects us all. And in most parts of the world, it still holds true.
3. Women don’t need to be told that we need men. Vice versa, I don’t know so much, I’m not sure. But as a woman I can tell you that the need-a-man thing is pretty much obvious, fundamental, basic, visceral, and deeply felt. I remember lying next to my husband, nine-months pregnant and suddenly being overwhelmed with fear that he would die and leave me alone with this baby. Overcome with anxiety that I could not do this without him. And yet stone cold awake in the middle of the day without all those crazy hormones crashing my system I can tell you honestly that I could totally do it without him. Just fine thanks. I’m smart, I’m strong, I’m meaner than rattlesnake in the July sun. But try to tell that to my hormones at three-in-the-morning nine-months-pregnant.
It’s easy to see why some women sell their souls, destroy themselves, to hold onto a man that they should be taking out with the trash.
So please, don’t tell me what I need. I’ll figure that out for myself. What I don’t need is for my crazy hormones and the weight of history and society to be reinforced with some simplistic unrealistic platitude.
IMO, More important than men and women knowing that we need each other, is women knowing that they will be, can be, must be okay without a man. It starts with the brutal reality that “he” might never show up on his white charger. Or he might be hit by a bus tomorrow. Or he might abuse you or your kids.
And women must know, it is essential that we know, that we are okay often even better off, without men at all. Needing men is why abused women stay. I’ve seen this personally. He put his boots on so he could kick her harder and she went back to him, because she needed him. Needing a man is why so many women will choose to believe that their boyfriends aren’t raping their children and do nothing. Happens all the time. Needing men is what causes women to turn on each other and fight over men who are faithless and yucky when we’d be better off packing his bag and buying him a bus ticket to Guam.
Now wanting a man, that is entirely different. I’m perfectly fine with the statement that men and women want each other. But that goes without saying almost doesn’t it? Most women want a man, and most men want a woman, or two (hee hee, a little Mormon humor). And those not so interested in heterosexuality still yearn for a pair-bond. I can’t recall ever meeting a person who didn’t yearn for true love forever and ever.
I know this whole ‘not being needed’ thing makes a lot of men really uncomfortable. I had a friend tell me her husband said recently: “I just don’t feel like you need me.” I’m not sure what to say to that. Of course she doesn’t need him. She’s smart, she’s tough, she’s meaner than a rattle snake in the July sun. But she wants him.
I’m wondering if that whole being needed thing isn’t ultimately selfish. Isn’t the point of raising children making them independent, strong enough, tough enough, smart enough to be just fine without you. Why would you want someone to be dependent on you, it’s totally self-centered, what happens if *you* can’t provide anymore. Real love isn’t about being needed it’s about being wanted.
Or so I’ve just decided"
Megan Again: And also just for light fun I will post this video...cus I think it's pretty funny.