:-) I read that I am encouraged to post my responses to the scholarship survey so here it goes!

What is your purpose?

I have a unique understanding of the equality of all people and I am able to provide comfort and wisdom through empathy and sincerity.

 

What do you love, and how do (or will) your actions demonstrate this?

I love to experience life, whether it is feeling my unhurried steps on city pavement or listening to the wind in the trees of the park. I try to appreciate everything I come in contact with and use it to make me a more valuable asset to the world. In the past few months of my college experience I have been exposed to many things that have opened my eyes to how big the world is and how much I have yet to see. There are many places in the world I believe I would benefit from the opportunity to visit. I love to explore and to feel the excitement of the unknown, and to see the ways of the world in action. I feel constantly connected to those around me by my humanity and my understanding that everyone experiences the same emotions though they may be laboring under a different mentality. I feel that there is a thread that connects everyone and the chance to visit the cultural capitals of the world would be more valuable to me than any textbook ever could be. I would use this scholarship to help pay my tuition for the Semester at Sea program in the summer of 2009. 

Write your ideal job description.

I know that in this world there are many systems set in place that may be a hindrance to a comfortable lifestyle. I believe that in an environment such as a classroom these hindrances would be minor. Administration may have rules about dress code and curriculum, but as the authority of my classroom I will choose to walk in my socks while my shoes catch a breath. I will choose to start my class with the poses of a sun salutation. I will impart the wisdoms of Homer and the inner workings of William Golding. My field trips will be to museums and  poetry readings. I will bring the world into my classroom and show my students what is out there so that their appetites for exploration and travel may be whetted as mine is now. I will provide a space in this fast paced world where my students feel safe and comfortable. I will do my absolute best to be a guide of what is good and a role model of sincerity, hope, and self knowledge. I believe that because of the systems in place, and the amount of time required of high school students, their stay in my classroom should be valuable and memorable.

How do you comfort those who are sad?

Sad is a universal emotion, though people do not deal with it in uniform ways. I believe that through understanding and recognizing the validity of the emotion that I can comfort someone who is sad. Everyone feels sadness, and its the empathy, the understanding that really makes it okay. Its not normal to be happy all of the time, so sadness is necessary and natural. I dont think its my place or my responsiblity to make the sadness go away, but in time with some wisdom and some friendship the wounds will heal and whoever was feeling the sadness will be a better person. Thats the nature of sadness. Temporary.



The picture of the bruise is of my bruise on my hip from falling off my skateboard. Which was pretty sad :-P

Normally my reactions to things are immediate and unchanging. I usually know immediately what my decisions will be, though I may take the time to be sure and weigh all of the factors and options. However if I do not decide to take that time a deliberation is reached quite quickly. I trust what I know and what I feel as a combined guide to my decision making.

I'm taking a creative writing class at my university and am having a few issues with writing my fiction story. This story accounts for half of my grade, so its not an assignment i can skip. It focuses on a testing the waters lesbian relationship, more a series of dates if I can write that much. I feel very strongly about writing about this but am having to soul search to do it. I feel very drained by this but i know that in the end Ill feel rewarded by digging through all of the emotional muck. what I'm really having issues with is not being embarrassed by the topic and really putting myself out there for this story. Its very personal and I don't know how ill feel if i ever get it published and my parents read it or something. on the other hand i know there are plenty of people that would appreciate it if I did write and publish it. I'm including a scene to demonstrate my writing style and how much tension there is.

     As we sat there she drew on the back of her paper place-mat. She drew curves and swirls with crosshatched lines that gave the illusion of dimension. The fingernails that held her pen were thick from the acrylic laid over them and yellowed on both sides. The smoke from her fourth or fifth cigarette was starting to choke me. Curving around me like a noose, like the swirls on her place-mat. Our food must have come then because Rachel got her second coffee. Her nails clicked against the side of the mug as she brought it to her nose and kissed the cup. Steam from the mug drifted up into her alien sized eyes and she closed them. The creases of her black make up became strikingly evident and I realized I was staring. My own embarrassment didn’t stop me from sliding my hand across the table to take her free hand. I must have startled her because she coughed and a drip if coffee landed on the silk-screened superman emblem on her chest. I wondered then who she was planning to save and hoping it was me.

    When I asked for the check she looked at me funny, then she said “Let me get it”. When the server came with the check he stayed there standing in front of our table. He had a name-tag that read “Garcia” and a face that read confused. Rachel and I both looked at the check but she got up first. While she walked to the counter I entertained the idea that she felt bad about the hand holding and wanted to make it up to me somehow. Rachel smiled at the cashier and my fantasies fell like tears into the Nile and I thought maybe she just wasn’t interested. I forgot my worries as I remembered the tattered parts of her jeans. I followed her footsteps closer and closer as she glided on her worn hems. I was still watching her feet when she stopped right in front of me. My brain followed my eyes up her frame to her face and my mouth tensed into a smirk. She rolled her eyes in embarrassment as she grabbed her bag and headed out into the cold air.

Well its definitely not money, so I'd have to say that its love. There are so many people that love me and have caring respect for me. I always feel good about loving, so its a source of feel-good that keeps me going. Its motivation and good karma and inspiration. Love is something that I can always go fill up on and accomplish big things with.

Idealy, money. But thats not the case, I think the most honest answer I can give is that I'm saving myself. When I say that I dont mean anything pertaining to sexual activity or virginity. I mean that I am trying to conserve the best parts of me and not lose them in this crazy wind-torrent of a world we live in. I am hanging on to my personality and trying to strengthen the parts I like and what makes me me. I have seen people be so influenced that they lose what they were, and I dont want that for myself. I want to be the rock in my life.

It was at the metropolitan museum of art. it was amazing. ive probably seen hundreds of peices since then but that painting sticks out in my head. Its the most incredible...theres so many designs and textures its overwhelming. I cant even say for sure if its even pretty, but when I first saw it was like the room slowed. Like the way they show falling in love in movies.

    I passed a hitchhiker on the road tonight. It was about 1:10 am, 25 degrees outside and I was driving my boyfriend home. I didnt really understand what he was doing when he put his arm out until i saw his thumb. I really wanted to pick him up, but my boyfriend said to keep driving. The hitchhiker was an old man, with a long beard and a cigarette. I doubt he would have hurt me or something. Im still wrestling with my guilt right now. What kind of person denies an old man a ride in 25 degree weather? I didnt think I was that person, or that I ever could be.
    It was like a smack in the face to me that I could pass him. Like my own judgement just open-handed me in the face. I feel so horrible right now. I didnt have far to go, so I dont  know how much of a use I could have been to him. But I know that my car has a heater and wheels, two things that this man did not have. I feel extremely guilty for not sharing these gifts with this man. Its getting to be Thanksgiving soon. What kind of person leaves an old man on the street at 1 am? There are a million reasons he could have been there, reasons that I dont have the right to judge. I looked for him on my way back to my house. I would have picked him up and turned the car around to face the direction he was headed. I guess its better that I didnt see him. But why is that better? I know that I could have made him safe for at least a while.
    I dont know what to think of myself. I should not have denied him the help he asked for with his thumb. Hitchhiker laws are stupid. Why should anyone have the right to decide who I give a ride to? I dont believe this man was homeless. I believe that I dont know shit about what people look like when theyre homeless. I havent been around long enough to know the difference between homeless and a long night. I imagine sometimes theyre the same. I wish there was something I could do. I should donate food to a shelter or something. Would that make my guilt go away? Would that make me feel better? I doubt it would help that man. He was headed away from the city. That man probably has somewhere to be. I cant know. I just know that he stuck out his thumb and asked me for a ride, help. And I only slowed my car. As soon as I realized I wasnt going to stop my heart broke. I said no. I said no to an old man in 25 degree weather. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?
    By all of my moral standards what I did tonight is wrong. I feel like it shouldnt matter that Im only an 18 year old girl. He is just another soul in another body. I guess he could have hurt me. but I dont think he would have. There is heat in my car. What kind of person am I? He wasnt there on the way back, so someone must have picked him up. there were cars behind me on my way to my boyfriends house. They might have picked him up. I looked for him. But I wasnt there when he needed me to be.
    I guess this is my prayer that his soul may feel the eternal pull in the right direction, and that he may get there safely, where ever it is his right direction is. This is my prayer that I will understand that I cant help everyone, but that I should count on myself to do the right thing. Judgement is not always evil, I have to know that.
    Maybe I didnt slow down because Jeff told me not to. or maybe I knew that my situation wasnt Ideal. I am not the best candidate to pick up a hitchhiker. Im young and female, and to the rest of the world thats a bad thing in this case. I just feel like I must be a bad person to not have made that man's life easier or more comforting while i had the chance. Now I dont have the chance anymore and Im drowning in regret. Who is this person that does things she regrets? I dont even know her. I hope I can forgive myself for this. And I hope that man gets where he needed to go, and gets warm soon. And can sleep somewhere comfortable. Hes probably still out. Its only been 50 minutes since I saw him.

I really need alot of inspiration. To be motivated to not just get out of bed, but to do the work that Im required to do. I like to surround myself with beautiful things. Things that are imaginitive and unrealistic and even childish. These are the kinds of things that make me feel like I can do something with myself. Like I can make my creative juices flow. I don't have much trouble finding this kind of inspiration usually. It comes in many different forms.
                        

• Independant Reader Books
  • They're kids books but they always have the most far fetched and interesting stories. The story lines are so imaginitive. Books like The Valley of Secrets, Leven Thumps, Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. These books are totally amazing and its hard to believe at some points that theyre for like 12 year olds.
• Young Adult Books
  • Young adult books are relatable to me because of my age, but also because of the level they are written at. Some of my favorite YA books are The Whole Twilight Saga, Empress of the World, The Sweep books, most books that came out of the YA section I like.
• Fantasy Movies
  • I like fantasy movies, mostly the movies that are based on books. I like the Harry Potter movies, The Spiderwick Chronicles, Chronicles of Narnia. Also I like movies based on graphic novels like Sin City and 300.

I'll continue this list another time, Im worn out.

My cousin Ashley is coming to thanksgiving dinner this year at my grandma's house. Shes a senior at Penn State main and hasnt been around for the holidays in a few years. She is my oldest cousin and I grew up always looking up to her and thinking very highly of her. She's the eldest of all the cousins on my moms side, so she was the first favorite. I have so many good memories of playing with her when I was young, and hanging out with her when I got older. We used to play dress up with my grandmum's extra sheers. Im just really excited to see her. Its going to be an amazing thanksgiving.

What makes something worthwhile? Knowing Im loved and appreciated.
I've had a lot of problems lately. But my bestfriend/boyfriend Jeff has been a godsend. I swear sometimes that he was given enough sanity to hold both of us. Which is good because sometimes I dont have any for myself. I have gone through a lot of things in recent months I moved away from my loving mother to live with my distant and absent (but loving, in his own way I suppose) father and have felt abandoned by my friends when they all left to go to college elsewhere. School is crazy and I cant keep my head together long enough to clean my room. Jeff is my rock and he stands by me even when Im ridiculous. He even stands close enough to tell me when Im being ridiculous or blowing something out of proportion. He tells me I'm human. Which I appreciate because sometimes I forget what that means. Sometimes I feel alien and other. Jeff is human too I realize. I love him for that and about a billion other reasons.

ZMTallgeese (11:00:12 PM): i love you
ZMTallgeese (11:01:24 PM): satisfaction? as in being with you? I love being with you

ZMTallgeese (11:07:56 PM): it tears me up when u doubt our relationship, but then againhats really my fault for not saying anything

ZMTallgeese (11:22:48 PM): i think its just that i dont really ever get or need compliments to lift my spirits? Ill tell you all the great things about you but will that be enough? do u need something else?

ZMTallgeese (11:26:16 PM): dont let depression take control, beat it in the face with a frying pan

ZMTallgeese (11:55:58 PM): Of where we would be when the future comes
And how you would paint while I wrote my songs

ZMTallgeese (12:08:38 AM): so ur basically in the pentonic scale when u want the full chromatic?

ZMTallgeese (12:39:23 AM): I love you.

Yeah, Ive had problems and he helps. He is help.

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe

I wrote about Jeff in my last entry, and posted a quote of something he said. How you would paint while I wrote my songs. This is lyrics from a song that I'm in love with, by a band that he introduced me to. Porcupine Tree. Heres a video of the song, even though the picture doesnt move....its for listening purposes.

    My brother and I are three years apart. Two and a half if you want to be picky. I am the oldest, and when my youngest brother came along Chris became the middle child. Before Jason came, I am nine years older than him, I treated Chris badly. Or at least not well. He was this stupid little thing in a basket, stealing all my mother's affections. I dont feel guilty for feeling the way I did when I was three, but needless to say it set the tone for the rest of our sibling life.
    As we got older we fought constantly. Sometimes we were like wolf cubs; friendly, practical warfare to keep us healthy and strong and ..not bored. Other times we were malicious and mean toward eachother. Growing up through the ages of four until ten we played together often with the other kids in the neighborhood. We played cops and robbers and other games where it took a half an hour to discern the rules and we all had to leave by the time the streetlight came on. After that my brother branched off into boy-world, where he spent most of his time either riding a bike around by himself, or in a dark basement playing video games with his buddies across the street. I too had my own life. I dont remember exactly what I did, but Ive always been a social being and always have had quite a few friends.
    As Chris grew into himself as a young man, I began to see in him characteristics and qualities that I liked. I decided that even though he could be an angry jerk sometimes, he was my brother and I liked him. Of course I loved him unconditionally, but I also liked him as a person, which is something entirely different. He became generous, and honest, respectful toward our mother, and helpful with our brother. He was becoming old enough to see and experience many of the hardships he had once made fun of me for. Highschool for example. My grades werent good in highschool until I decided I wanted to go to college. My parents always gave me trouble about my grades, which meant chastizing rights for him. When he got to highschool and saw how hard it was, I didnt make fun of him at all. I just said, "See?"
    I feel like Ive been a good sister since I did the puberty thing. I became the me that I am now. I dont really remember much of my child self. Although I try. My brother and I see eye to eye on most things now. Our age gap closes every year and get closer too. Over Thanksgiving dinner my mom commented a few times about how much me and Chris talk to eachother. It makes her really happy that we get along so well.I  dont think that my Dad notices the change in us, only because he instigates us. And if he does notice, he takes well enough care not to act like it.
    I hope that I know my brother for a long, long time and that nothing comes between us. My Dad and his sister dont talk, because since they were children they hated eachother. He thinks she's selfish and weak, and she felt abused because the whole world revolved around him. That will never happen to me and my brother, Chris.