Potential Energy

I was randomly perusing other blogs and this one caught my eye. I enjoy reading it and there's been one or two posts I felt I understood well or connected with a bit. Enjoy her writing here:

Potential Energy

The not-so successful life after college

I don't think there's anything else in this grown-up world that I detest more than the silent soul-crusher that is job hunting.

When I was in elementary school, I was told and always knew one day I'd be in junior high. Then in junior high, I always knew I'd be in high school soon. And in high school, I always knew and was told that I would go to college. And so the day came and I went to college. And while in college, I was told and led to assume that after graduation, I would be getting a job that would lead to a career and I would be employed and making money doing something related to what I was going to school for. Well we all know what happens when you assume.

Turns out I was set up for a big let down. It was all lies! Damnable lies. Hardly anyone I know actually has a job in their degree field. Many people I know (including me) couldn't find work right out of college. Everything was always step by step in the (what I thought was) the correct direction. The path to success...the path that is known and understood. Not the scary pot-hole ridden path in the opposite direction.

Graduation was the edge of the plateau. There was no continuous mountain path upward. There was just graduation from college and then a big, steep roll downward. Resumes and blasted cover letters abounded. But I was hit with the same confounding response everywhere I went; Employers wanted to hire someone with at least 2 years experience. But how was I to get 2 years experience if noone would hire me??

So the bubble burst on the idea of working for an advertising agency right out of college. Either they wanted experience or they were a small company that had no openings. Later on while I had a crummy sales job, I job-hunted on the side...hoping to find anything better that didn't rely on a commission-based salary. In interviews I'd regurgitate the same spiel of information. Each interview picked at my life force. I realized I had nothing to say except to recite my academic past. I had no family of my own, I had no kids (but thank goodness I'm not a single mom), and I hadn't traveled the world. My life was my stupid resume.

So the rundown is this; after a move back to my hometown, a lack-luster job at a newspaper, a crappy job at a movie theater, and a stressful go-nowhere job in god-awful sales, I took up a new class at a community college. Finally, I was back in an environment where I understood the world. But the outside's evil eye was always boring into the back of my skull. It was there and waiting. I couldn't hide back in academia for long. So I'm now back at the plateau, gazing down again, knowing I have to tuck and roll once more.

(Sigh) Hopefully this time I'll avoid the larger rubble.

Summing up the issue

I just read a forum on the Internet about a mom who is frustrated with the current illegal immigration issue and has decided to remove all Spanish cartoons from her home. She hopes to bring new cultures to the table for her children to learn about. Now before you go saying that she must be racist or full of hatred, as some of the people commenting on her story have called her, she went on to say that she herself CHOSE to take Spanish when she was in school, but nowadays she feels that the language is being forced down her kids' throats. What ever happened to learning another language? In this global economy, in this future world of mixing cultures, why aren't other languages being taught as much? Well, because so many immigrants these days are coming from Mexico. However, the problem lies with those who never learn the language of our country; English. So here below is something one of the commenters wrote to help explain the current issue with these illegal immigrants. I liked how she described it, or rather, how she heard it described by a radio program. And I think it's a good way to explain things. It rather sums it all up.


"I don't have a problem with spanish speaking people. I have a problem with spanish speaking illegals PERIOD. I heard a scenario the other day on the radio that described the situation perfectly. You wake up in the middle of the night to find a person in your home. You did not invite them and they have broken into your home. You tell them to get out- they say "no". You call the police- they show up, take him away. The next night, the same individual is in your house again. Except this time he has brought a bunch of angry looking protestors to sit on your lawn and yelling that he "deserves to be there in your home". This time he has moved in, he is eating your food, moved your things out on the lawn, and expects you to speak his language. You start to call the police, but he threatens to let all the protestors out on your lawn inside if you complain. That's the exact scenario I see happening in AZ. I'm not letting this scenario into my house."

Alter Egos

My boyfriend has many alter-egos and I've named them all based on their personalities. Perhaps over time, I will learn more!


David: This is his normal name. He is David on any given day when he's out running errands, spending time with me and friends, or at work. David is intelligent, has a good sense of humor, generous to his friends and family, and is one of the most helpful, thoughtful guys you'll meet. A car was stalled on the side of the road once and he walked over to see if they needed anything and another time he helped a friend move across the country.

Davy: This is the nickname that he is known by in his family. Actually, it's the name he was always known as until college when he started to go by David instead. I call him David because that's what he went by when I met him. From what I've seen, Davy has a great relationship with his family and it's cute to see him play with his little niece.

Poet: I've sometimes referred to him as my poet, sometimes my drunken poet, when he sends me poetic texts (often at 2am). I've mostly stopped receiving late-night texts because I'm either out with him late at night or he knows I'm at home asleep and he will see me the next day. But here's a few examples of what he's sent me in the past:

“I do so love your mannerisms, rolling, blinking eyes, smiles and laughs with toss of head.”

“Words fail you. Literature falls short of doing you justice.”

“Ain't you so sweet and mellow and pale white all like snow, but not snow white with her dwarves or dwarfs or however it’s spelled.”

Drunky McDrunkerton: This is his drunken alter-ego. This almost Irish-sounding name fits his good-hearted, drunken charm. Drunky McDrunkerton comes out after he's had a few whiskey sours. He talks a bit louder, he gestures more, and he will get into debates with someone about anything from the latest news to history. He likes history. (To be fair, he could get into a debate at any time, but when we're out at night, he has people to debate with.) He will squeeze my hand or knee and I love it when he twirls my hair. He also starts texting people random thoughts. His closest friends are all on Dave's Drunken Subscription. This alter-ego has fun and will from time to time sing karaoke.

Drunky McGroper: This rather unsavory character is unleashed when David has had WAY too many. Raunchy jokes and an awkward sense of humor are his repertoire. He sways a bit, he sees double, and he gropes a bit. Don't worry, it's not some poor unsuspecting person at our table; just me. I must admit, I worry when I see Drunky McGroper. Thankfully I'm usually the designated driver. And luckily, I do not see this alter-ego much at all. I think it's only been twice since I met him.

Davy Jones: This is Dave when he's in a goofy mood. (Hence the reference to the goofy Monkees character.) He's got boyish charm and I always laugh when Davy J. comes out to play. Goofing with Davy J. isn't unlike playing with a child as he hides under the covers to disappear. And something about trying to tickle him drives me wild. (Probably because he's not easy to tickle and when I find that vulnerable spot, I pounce!)

Handsome Brown-Eyed Man: This is his super sweet boyfriend side. HBEM is very much like the characteristics of David, only mainly directed at me. :) He likes to take care of me, he wants to know that I'm happy (and I am), and is all-in-all a great guy.


So there you have it; the many alter-egos of my boyfriend.

Political correctness is the downfall of America

OK, we all know that this country has a large illegal immigrant issue. When Texas and New Mexico stepped up their border patrols in the 1990s, illegals naturally fled to the US through Arizona. So I can see why the state put forth this law; however, I also see the problems with it. I am against the idea that an officer can arrest you for nothing. Yes, nothing. They could ask for your I.D. and if you don't have it with you at that moment, they could arrest you. That's wrong. But like I said, I see why Arizona felt the need to do something drastic. But the state has to know that this will eventually get repealed.

That being said, I would like to explain why I understand Arizona's attempt at this I.D. law. First of all, I'm all for Texas passing a law that you must show your I.D. in order to vote in any election. I don't understand anyone when they say they are against that. Why? This leads into my argument. Something as simple as an I.D. is a start against illegal immigration. Why are so many Americans against this country's attempts to keep illegal immigration at bay? If you are an American citizen, why are you fighting against this country?

It would seem that illegals want everything handed to them for free, including the rights of an American citizen, while they are in fact NOT a citizen. How is this fair to people who are citizens and to other immigrants who came here the legal way? Let's not forget that illegals are here illegally. They are breaking the law. Why is America putting up with this? Oh wait, I know, liberal Democrats need the illegal votes to keep them in office. (haha)

America's biggest flaw right now is all this PC crap. Oh, everyone needs to be nice to everyone else and god forbid we offend anyone. Bah. When I was a kid, we played kickball and dodge-ball and dammit, we had a winner. Nowadays, everybody is a winner because it makes other kids feel bad to lose. Well boo-hoo. I lost a lot in school and it sucked. But you know what? It made me want to win and to fight back all the more! And when you've worked hard and you get sweet victory, it feels all the more fantastic because you earned it. Wanting to win gives people motivation and determination...something we need in this country.

This crap needs to stop. America is afraid of upsetting some Hispanics. I get it. However, America needs to grow its balls back. If you are of Hispanic decent and it's your heritage, then that's great! Celebrate it. Teach it to your children. But if you are also an American citizen, then that's your heritage too. When immigrants came to this country in the 1800s and early 1900s, they at least tried to become American. They at least learned English! Why aren't Hispanic-Americans proud of their country too? Why aren't they fighting against those who are coming here illegally? This illegal immigrant issue is a problem for every citizen, regardless of your heritage. Whatever happened to the mindset that we are all Americans together, regardless of race? I'm starting to wonder if we ever had that. But we certainly need it now.

I could go on and on, but I think I'll just stop here for now.

Little Musings

If we're all God's children, then there's an awful lot of incest going on.

Matrix Cuisine

In the movie, the Matrix, our world is just the computer simulator world called the Matrix. Our physical bodies are hooked up to all kinds of tubes in a slimy, gooey liquid-filled pod. Everything we do, see, hear, and interact with is just stimulations to our brains.

So my question goes like this: There is no real food in the matrix. It's all computer simulated to make our brains think we're getting the nutrition we need to live, because as we all know if you die in the matrix, you die in the real world. In the matrix we think we're eating. In the real world, our bodies are getting the liquid goo-type food from an IV to really keep us alive.

So if a person becomes really fat from eating too much in the matrix, does the physical body that's only getting liquid sustenance also get fat? I know that their brain is thinking they are, but in real life, they aren't actually eating all those fatty foods. So do their physical bodies get fat?

Discuss.

A Day in the PhotoLab

When my photography instructor got out her calendar during class yesterday and told us we have two weeks left before the lab closes, I felt a little nauseous. I have a mere fortnight to complete my body of work which is due for finals. First of all, my body of work can only be called a 'body of work' if all of my photos are cohesive in some way, be it similar by the lightning or theme or whatever. Secondly, I must have at least 8 photos but no more than 10. And this body of work is not just print and go. No no. These photos must be spotted and matted. Oh the work ahead of me. Lucikly, I have 4 good photos so far. I also have a fifth, but it's still in the maybe pile. Now it all depends on how many photos I can get out of my last two rolls of film that I developed just this afternoon.

Now this is no digital point and shoot. This is old school black & white photography with film to be loaded. Yes, you heard right. Cameras sometimes use film. No memory cards here. It's a LOT of work to get a good photo. And for you who casually peruse a friend's or relative's photos and just say, "Hmm, those are nice;" let me just say to you that you need to think twice. Consider how much work went into them and only then can you fully appreciate them. Not to mention, it's nice to hear more from people than just, "Those are nice." We photographers need more praise. And here's why:

Here's the rundown of how you get a finished black & white photograph:

1) Get your camera and film.

Here's the camera I use.







For my class, we use Trx-400 black & white film. Very important to use the correct film.






You load it in the back.









2) Go take pictures!

3) Once you've used all of your film, it's time to develop. After making sure your film has rewound back into the canister, you can open the back of the camera and remove it. Exposing your film to any amount of light means you're majorly screwed. No more pictures for you!
You must take your canister, a film reel and other accessories to a light-tight closet. People with claustrophobia beware. Here in this completely dark room, you have to take your film and roll it onto a reel that will then be put into a light-tight canister with a special lid that allows liquid in through the top, but not light. On to the chemistry!


4) Developing the film includes lots of chemistry and time. Here's the order they must go in: Pre-wet, Developer, Stop Bath, Fixer, Rinse, Orbit bath, Final wash, and Photo-Flo. This process in addition to rolling your film onto reels typically takes over an hour. Once this is done, you unroll your wet film. Hopefully you can see pictures on your negatives! Now they must hang dry for 3 hours. Once dry, you can cut your negatives to fit your negative sleeves.

5) Take your negatives into the print darkroom and make a contact sheet. This will let you see what your pictures will look like. (Remember, the negatives alone are reversals of light. Dark areas will be bright on a regular print and vice-versa.)














6) Pick the picture you want, the enlarger you want to work on, and get started. Insert the chosen film into the enlarger, use test strips to determine correct exposure time, choose the right filter (the filter will cause less or more contrast depending on the filter), and once everything is just right, use a full sheet of resin coated paper to make a full size print. Once the image is recorded onto the paper via light, it goes through chemistry too; developer, stop bath and fixer. This process of printing has taken me 3 hours to get one photo just right. Sometimes I get lucky and it only takes me half of this time.


7) Your photo will then be washed and dried. Now you have a print! But odds are that it will have spots. (White spots caused by dust on the negative.) Super. Now you have to spot your print. You use a tiny brush and black photo-paper ink to fill in these little white spots to match the shading of the image. When finished with that, you can mount your photo using white matte-board.

8) Admire your photo!


See how much grueling work is involved? So next time someone wants to show you their darkroom work and photos, give them the time they deserve and say more than just, "That's nice."

The Itchy Scent of Grass

The pungent itchy aroma of grass hangs in the air around my neighborhood. This can only mean one thing: springtime is out in full force. Lately all of my neighbors have begun the springtime tradition of mowing their lawns. They and payed lawn-care experts are mowing, pulling weeds, and planting flowers. (Well, only one of my neighbors has successfully managed to grow flowers on a regular basis. My mom tries, but the results are usually pretty sad.) For many people, the smell of a freshly cut lawn evokes a sense of cleanliness and childhood nostalgia. For me, it's the smell of discomfort. Okay, it does evoke memories of childhood for me too, just unpleasant ones and here's why.

Just by smelling it, I feel itchy. My eyes begin to water and as the pungent scent of grass and weeds hits my nose, I twitch and sneeze. If I'm in the presence of this sadistic essence for too long, I will eventually need my inhaler for my asthma. I'd be itchy and unable to breathe. And this smell has a way of getting everywhere. I can drive by a house where someone is mowing their lawn and that itchy smell breaches the vents of my car. All I can do is hold my breath until I pass the house...and the house after it, just for good measure. Most people won't understand this because they are not burdened by nasty allergies and asthma. They love the smell of grass and probably can't fathom why someone could hate it or how it could harm someone. But I do and it does! So there you have it; grass from the other perspective. (My eyes are watering now just thinking about this.)

They come from France

Hackers, that is. My e-mail account was hacked by an IP address from France! This has never happened to me before so hearing that my e-mail was sending out spam to everyone was a shock. And then when I read about all of the security measures and reports to the authorities my e-mail provider is taking -which is NONE -I felt my temper rising. It just makes me angry that they can't do something to this IP address to screw up this hacker. I have their IP address! I know they come from France. This information is on my account activity list.

All I could do is change every single privacy setting I had and hope that that is a deterrent to this hacker from France. Hopefully seeing my password triple in size and complexity will make him exclaim, "Sacre bleu! Theez new passward is much too long and complicated. I shall move on to anozer fat American IP address that I can hack and send ze spam e-mail from." My imaginary Frenchman hacker will then finish his espresso, dust off his white & black striped shirt, straighten his red neck scarf, and ride his scooter off to another IP location -probably one that has wine and cheese.

Of course I do realize that not all hackers are from France. While reading through the e-mail help forum, I saw people complaining about hackers from Latvia, Russia, and other locations around the globe. So for anyone who has been in this situation, be sure you change your security settings. I will watch my account more closely now, that's for sure.

What happened in the year 2006?

The question has become, What happened in the year 2006? With the renewed start of this blog, I began to wonder why I have not written anything in years. I tried to think back to when I last really sat down to write anything creative. And even the process of thinking about writing made me feel mentally exhausted and ready to push it all aside. But no! I must attempt to resist this lethargy. What will happen -no, make that what has happened is this: I've lost it. Whatever IT is, I've lost it. The desire to write, the inspiration I used to have, the passion for creating; whatever it was it is no longer there in the same quality and quantity. Was it ever really of any quality to begin with? Is it like this lack-luster blog entry...boring, lifeless, and an obvious attempt to force creative thought and fanciful words? I'm beginning to think it is.

I used to constantly write. Since grade school I've been writing. I wanted to write my own book since I could read. And so I would grab a pencil and paper and just start writing about whatever I was in the mood for. I was (and still am) susceptible to the influence of other authors. When I was a child, I read every Babysitter's Club book written and due to this influence, I wanted to write about my own club of friends going about their simple but meaningful adventures. Then I got into scary stories and R. L. Stine's Fear Street series. That's when I began to write about cheerleaders getting squashed beneath fallen basketball backboards and teenagers with split personalities. (I promise it was just a faze in my writing and not a wicked twist on my own psyche.) As a young adult entering college, I read more than my share of chick lit. Naturally I began to toy with writing about my own female heroine who struggles through a bad relationship, a job from hell, and other conflicts only to finally come out on top a better person with a new sense of purpose and a renewed outlook on some aspect of life.

So what happened in the year 2006? I found an old journal of mine today while going through a ton of old school folders and junk from under my bed. I think it was the last one I kept. And I bet you can guess what the last date I wrote in it was. Yep, 2006. And the last entry, the same last entry I had here on this very blog, was about my new job at the newspaper. So is that what really happened in the year 2006? I started writing for a living and was burned out on writing for myself. And then when I was let go from the paper, (for reasons that I would like to spare anyone reading this otherwise today's blog entry will double in size), I just didn't want to spend time writing. I still read as much as ever, but never could pick up a pen or open a word document. Talk about a long spout of writer's block. And I still have it. My rant here isn't creative. It's informative and only mildly interesting (to me). I suppose the silver lining in this is that at least I started to blog again. Who knows, maybe in another two years I'll be back up to where I once was. I can only hope.

Photos From Class

These are a few of the photos I took in photography class last semester. These are scans of the originals, which are black & white prints made in the darkroom. Yes, that's right, old school photography.

Quotes From Photography Class

*Quotes are most likely taken out of context.

"It's hot as tits in here."
-- inside the dark closet for rolling film

"Why are we always confused?"
-- classmate

"He was wacking off..."
-- teacher using wrong (but hilarious) word

"Take off your shirt."
-- teacher in the hall overheard while in classroom

"It looks like balls." "Buffallo balls." "Scrotum."
-- describing an abstract photo

"We've got the church-giggles again."
-- classmate

"My boyfriend said he would, but I just don't know what to do with him."
-- girl in class

"Ah! And that's a naked woman."
-- said when looking at negatives left behind at an enlarger

"H.A.L.T. 'Hungry, angry, lonely, tired.'"
-- when you're one or all of these, it's time for a break

"Sorry. Didn't mean to boob-graze you."
-- girl in crowded dark room

"Bye bitches!"
-- girl classmate

Haiku & Limericks

"A Boring Haiku"
I am very bored.
That is why I write haiku;
Nothing else to do.


Limericks

"There was a Young Girl with a book,
Who seated herself by a brook;
A boy came along,
And sang her a song,
That lovely Young Girl with a book."


"There once was a Girl from the West,
Who met a Boy dressed in a vest;
She seized him and kissed him,
And this did so please him,
That he ran off with the Girl from the West."


"There was a Young Lady of Odessa,
Where folk kept calling her Vanessa;
'But that's not my name!'
She would always exclaim,
That vexed Young Lady of Odessa."


Too see the homepage of Edward Lear, author of the "Book of Nonsense" (which is full of limericks), click HERE.

Forgot This Was Here

It was recently brought to my attention that this little crappy weblog of mine was still in existence. My first reaction was embarrassment. Why? Because this was all previously written when I was in college and let's face it, anything that old seems embarrassing by today's standards. My second reaction was, let it lie. But then I was given the advice that I could use this to simply chronicle events in my life so I can go back and look and see what's happened in the previous year(s). So why not?

While checking my old links on the side, I found that half of them no longer worked. So those have all been updated. My picture is now an actual picture of me too. Looking back at these old blogs, I discovered two things:
1. I was simply mad for the band OK Go. (And I still kinda am.)
2. I tried a lot of things on a weekly or monthly basis and then gave up. Hence the hottie of the month thing that died after two months.

So what now? I suppose I will write when the mood strikes, when I need to rant, or for shits and giggles. You know, like everyone else with a blog.