Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
It's not polite to stare. But it happens.
As I was reading Catherine's blog about watching people I began to think of common situations when I find myself people watching.
Transportation.
Whether you're sitting amongst sleepy co-eds heading to class on a campus bus or seated shotgun on a long road trip, nothing passes the time faster than examining the strangers you come across.
The interaction on buses, metros, elevators, or anything that forces people to be close yet remain quietly individual spawns such interesting behavior.
Everything that ordinarily wouldn't mean anything suddenly speaks volumes. Someone's outfit screams their personality. A smile could mean interest. A seat selection could be strategic.
But, wait.
That person probably didn't think twice before putting those shoes on. That smile was actually a reaction to a funny podcast. I don't consciously want to sit next to you, but there's no where else to sit.
Being in a highly visually-stimulating environment, limited to your inner thoughts, tends to make typical thoughts more processed. Images are more thought about, things more exaggerated.
Not only riders more perceptive, but unique relationships are formed.
Only these 30 some people are riding this bus at this moment. If we were to get into an accident, we'd help each other. If something funny were to happen, we'd probably all laugh. We might even look to our neighbor and acknowledge the humor of the moment together. You don't know anyone, but for whatever reason, being reserved to this moving living room of a bus, you share a connection, a common experience.
It only lasts 10 minutes. And once the end spot is approached, the brakes engaged and doors opened, we all get up from our seats, gather our belongings and shuffle off the bus, and off to our destinations.
Unlike other relationships, this is one that I don't miss. I'm not sad to leave the people I shared my ride to class with. It's just the way it goes. The only thing I'll probably miss is that cute boy or the really cool combination of colors that girl wore in her outfit -- the group I ride home with might not be as interesting.
Transportation.
Whether you're sitting amongst sleepy co-eds heading to class on a campus bus or seated shotgun on a long road trip, nothing passes the time faster than examining the strangers you come across.
The interaction on buses, metros, elevators, or anything that forces people to be close yet remain quietly individual spawns such interesting behavior.
Everything that ordinarily wouldn't mean anything suddenly speaks volumes. Someone's outfit screams their personality. A smile could mean interest. A seat selection could be strategic.
But, wait.
That person probably didn't think twice before putting those shoes on. That smile was actually a reaction to a funny podcast. I don't consciously want to sit next to you, but there's no where else to sit.
Being in a highly visually-stimulating environment, limited to your inner thoughts, tends to make typical thoughts more processed. Images are more thought about, things more exaggerated.
Not only riders more perceptive, but unique relationships are formed.
Only these 30 some people are riding this bus at this moment. If we were to get into an accident, we'd help each other. If something funny were to happen, we'd probably all laugh. We might even look to our neighbor and acknowledge the humor of the moment together. You don't know anyone, but for whatever reason, being reserved to this moving living room of a bus, you share a connection, a common experience.
It only lasts 10 minutes. And once the end spot is approached, the brakes engaged and doors opened, we all get up from our seats, gather our belongings and shuffle off the bus, and off to our destinations.
Unlike other relationships, this is one that I don't miss. I'm not sad to leave the people I shared my ride to class with. It's just the way it goes. The only thing I'll probably miss is that cute boy or the really cool combination of colors that girl wore in her outfit -- the group I ride home with might not be as interesting.
Monday, November 5, 2007
ultimate frisbee soundslide
Until I can figure out how to embed the soundslide into this blog, you'll just have to download, upzip and open the index file to view my soundslide on Syracuse University's men's ultimate frisbee club team Scooby Doom.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Reality Check
It was in that second, that visual, that I felt like I was the closest I had ever been to knowing what it had been like for Justin when he was gunned down in Afghanistan.
The fear, the pride, the courage: all bottled up in this 18-year-old body, willingly placed in a foreign hotbed of trouble, with the knowledge that he might see his last sight, breathe his last breath, feel his last heartbeat.
As I sat in the theater watching Lion of Lambs, tears streamed down my face. The reality of this war overwhelmed me once again, much like in early June when I got a phone call at 2 a.m. asking if I had heard about Justin. He had been killed in Afghanistan. He had been shipped out from Fort Drum just 4 months earlier.
Today in Media & Politics we were talking about how our age group, 18-25, have had the lowest voter turnout to date. We tried to in point the reasons for this trend and ways to get young people involved.
A lot of people said that candidates do not appeal to the younger generation, preoccupied with the storyline of Gossip Girl and the latest celebrity break-up.
"People speculated that Stephen Colbert could be the break through to bringing younger people into politics, getting them interested," my professor said.
But why must we make a mockery of the democratic process and politics in general (Colbert attempted to get on the democrat's primary ballot in South Carolina, for those who haven't read the news) to get young people voting?
"Issues don't matter to kids our age. We're not in the real world yet, so they don't affect us," one student said.
It's true; I might not be directly affected by a large portion of public policy, but there's one issue that affects everyone-- the war in Iraq.
It shouldn't take a draft to light a fire under our generation. Our peers are being shipped out: someone's brother or sister, someone's best friend since childhood, someone's love of their life.
Is it that inconvenient to read a newspaper, to care about our government or to be informed, while other people our age are enduring in boot camps and leaving loved ones and home to go half-way around the world to a completely different and unwelcoming environment?
I wish I was as courageous as Justin to voluntarily go to war.
But I wish just as much that we wouldn't have had to send Justin off in the first place.
Every vote counts.
In Loving Memory of Justin Davis, 1987 - 2006.
The fear, the pride, the courage: all bottled up in this 18-year-old body, willingly placed in a foreign hotbed of trouble, with the knowledge that he might see his last sight, breathe his last breath, feel his last heartbeat.
As I sat in the theater watching Lion of Lambs, tears streamed down my face. The reality of this war overwhelmed me once again, much like in early June when I got a phone call at 2 a.m. asking if I had heard about Justin. He had been killed in Afghanistan. He had been shipped out from Fort Drum just 4 months earlier.
Today in Media & Politics we were talking about how our age group, 18-25, have had the lowest voter turnout to date. We tried to in point the reasons for this trend and ways to get young people involved.
A lot of people said that candidates do not appeal to the younger generation, preoccupied with the storyline of Gossip Girl and the latest celebrity break-up.
"People speculated that Stephen Colbert could be the break through to bringing younger people into politics, getting them interested," my professor said.
But why must we make a mockery of the democratic process and politics in general (Colbert attempted to get on the democrat's primary ballot in South Carolina, for those who haven't read the news) to get young people voting?
"Issues don't matter to kids our age. We're not in the real world yet, so they don't affect us," one student said.
It's true; I might not be directly affected by a large portion of public policy, but there's one issue that affects everyone-- the war in Iraq.
It shouldn't take a draft to light a fire under our generation. Our peers are being shipped out: someone's brother or sister, someone's best friend since childhood, someone's love of their life.
Is it that inconvenient to read a newspaper, to care about our government or to be informed, while other people our age are enduring in boot camps and leaving loved ones and home to go half-way around the world to a completely different and unwelcoming environment?
I wish I was as courageous as Justin to voluntarily go to war.
But I wish just as much that we wouldn't have had to send Justin off in the first place.
Every vote counts.
In Loving Memory of Justin Davis, 1987 - 2006.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
could it be seasonal affective disorder?
Snuggling fireside. Holiday beer, candy, feasts and cookies. One more hour of sleep.
The wonderful things winter will bring.
We're nearing the end of autumn in Syracuse, trading in our hoodies for Northface jackets and shoes for waterproof boots (preferably not Uggs), and looking forward to the not-far-off season of sweets and coziness.
But with the season change, warmer clothes are not the only things we dust off from storage. The bad eating habits and laziness from winters past manage to creep back into routine.
For the past few weeks I've grown quite fond of my evening runs right before sunset. The air is chilly and refreshing, the landscape colorful and pleasing. The onset of winter promises a much less enjoyable exercise experience: bare trees, brutally cold temperatures, less daylight.
Not exactly an environment that encourages aerobic activity. Layering and sweatshirts let you indulge a little more, without the pressure to look good in a bikini.
My ability to leave my warm apartment, let alone bed, for a run in the bitter cold will prove to be a daily struggle. To allow myself to be thrown outside to run the cold, dark streets of Syracuse will take a lot of convincing; I don't know if I'll be able to come up with a reason other than I should. But I should do a lot of things; it doesn't mean I'm motivated enough to endure discomfort for them.
So why must the holiday centered on candy (Halloween), the holiday encouraging stuffing your face until you feel sick (Thanksgiving), and the holiday centered around chocolate Advent calendars, hot chocolate and festive cookies (Christmas) all fall during the season where it's so hard to work out?
Humans are animals too, right? It's only part of nature that we'd pack on a few pounds to stay a little warmer during the colder months.
I really want to make it a point to try and maintain a healthy, active lifestyle through out the winter. Fruit will be harder to come by and the gym may be the only option, but I should be able to adapt.
So, it's back to the treadmill I go. If you don't see me at Archbold, do me a favor and call me.
Hopefully I'll be able to answer my cell once I awake from my deep slumber or put down the German Gingerbread cookies.
The wonderful things winter will bring.
We're nearing the end of autumn in Syracuse, trading in our hoodies for Northface jackets and shoes for waterproof boots (preferably not Uggs), and looking forward to the not-far-off season of sweets and coziness.
But with the season change, warmer clothes are not the only things we dust off from storage. The bad eating habits and laziness from winters past manage to creep back into routine.
For the past few weeks I've grown quite fond of my evening runs right before sunset. The air is chilly and refreshing, the landscape colorful and pleasing. The onset of winter promises a much less enjoyable exercise experience: bare trees, brutally cold temperatures, less daylight.
Not exactly an environment that encourages aerobic activity. Layering and sweatshirts let you indulge a little more, without the pressure to look good in a bikini.
My ability to leave my warm apartment, let alone bed, for a run in the bitter cold will prove to be a daily struggle. To allow myself to be thrown outside to run the cold, dark streets of Syracuse will take a lot of convincing; I don't know if I'll be able to come up with a reason other than I should. But I should do a lot of things; it doesn't mean I'm motivated enough to endure discomfort for them.
So why must the holiday centered on candy (Halloween), the holiday encouraging stuffing your face until you feel sick (Thanksgiving), and the holiday centered around chocolate Advent calendars, hot chocolate and festive cookies (Christmas) all fall during the season where it's so hard to work out?
Humans are animals too, right? It's only part of nature that we'd pack on a few pounds to stay a little warmer during the colder months.
I really want to make it a point to try and maintain a healthy, active lifestyle through out the winter. Fruit will be harder to come by and the gym may be the only option, but I should be able to adapt.
So, it's back to the treadmill I go. If you don't see me at Archbold, do me a favor and call me.
Hopefully I'll be able to answer my cell once I awake from my deep slumber or put down the German Gingerbread cookies.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Roman Candle
"It's not bad outside," Katie greeted me this morning as I laced up my running shoes. "It's breezy, you'll like it."
I grabbed my iPod and headphones, leaving my sweatshirt to lay balled up on my bedroom floor, and headed down the stairs and out the door.
At 8:20 a.m. on a Friday in late October it was already 71 degrees outside. The balmy climate, my sleepy head and the carefree mindset all reminded me of summer morning runs at Bethany Beach.
I ran to the bank, withdrew money and then ran to Blake's house to give him it for Chelsea's party. I talked with Blake and Julio for a little and had a cup of water.
With a water sloshing around in my stomach, I decided to walk the half a mile back to my apartment.
And it was delightful.
Children walking with their mothers. People enjoying their first cup of coffee of the day on their porches. Dogs being walked by their owners. The landscape was speckled with warm autumn hues of orange, red and yellow, but the weather insisted it was more like springtime.
As I was walking I knew I wanted to remember this. This perfect synergy of the things that I love about all the seasons. I put on some new Elliott Smith I got from Yoda.
I had really realized this before but music is almost like a blank canvas -- a slate where I can make a memory imprint. I know if I put on this song later that I'll be flooded with the feelings of this exact moment. I already had an idea that Elliott Smith wouldn't be too loud, too fast, too electronic. But a calm, beautiful melody to soundtrack this experience.
And it works the opposite way too. Music sets moods; moods set by past events, or moods anticipated to be felt. Songs can invoke certain feelings in you. Bring out the passion in that special moment. Raise your head on that day when you're down. Plaster a big smile on your face. Involuntarily dance to the beat.
Music can say a lot on its own, but it says so much more when you play it to life.
I grabbed my iPod and headphones, leaving my sweatshirt to lay balled up on my bedroom floor, and headed down the stairs and out the door.
At 8:20 a.m. on a Friday in late October it was already 71 degrees outside. The balmy climate, my sleepy head and the carefree mindset all reminded me of summer morning runs at Bethany Beach.
I ran to the bank, withdrew money and then ran to Blake's house to give him it for Chelsea's party. I talked with Blake and Julio for a little and had a cup of water.
With a water sloshing around in my stomach, I decided to walk the half a mile back to my apartment.
And it was delightful.
Children walking with their mothers. People enjoying their first cup of coffee of the day on their porches. Dogs being walked by their owners. The landscape was speckled with warm autumn hues of orange, red and yellow, but the weather insisted it was more like springtime.
As I was walking I knew I wanted to remember this. This perfect synergy of the things that I love about all the seasons. I put on some new Elliott Smith I got from Yoda.
I had really realized this before but music is almost like a blank canvas -- a slate where I can make a memory imprint. I know if I put on this song later that I'll be flooded with the feelings of this exact moment. I already had an idea that Elliott Smith wouldn't be too loud, too fast, too electronic. But a calm, beautiful melody to soundtrack this experience.
And it works the opposite way too. Music sets moods; moods set by past events, or moods anticipated to be felt. Songs can invoke certain feelings in you. Bring out the passion in that special moment. Raise your head on that day when you're down. Plaster a big smile on your face. Involuntarily dance to the beat.
Music can say a lot on its own, but it says so much more when you play it to life.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
I didn't know Daria's Sick Sad World was real
We live in a sick, sad world. The news is quick to not let us forget it.
I usually don't even really fully recognize the amount of depressing news I ingest ever day. Of course I comprehend the subject matter of the articles I read, and I do realize that I am in fact reading non-fiction. But to a certain degree, it seems so surreal.
It's because I'm a college student. I know all these things are important and have large effects on life, but it doesn't quite hit home completely.
I'm not amongst the chaos and danger in Iraq, I'm not looking to sell or buy real estate and I certainly do not have children that would be affected by SCHIP. I know all of these things are reality, but because I'm not directly linked to them in some way, they call come across almost fiction-like.
Only in college are you still on your parents' dime (for the most part) and still able to live an independent, adult life. Your life consists of keggers, a work-study job where you get paid to do your homework, approximately 15 hours of lecture a week, a community consisting of young, ambitious 20-somethings from all over the country (and world) and good, clean fun (sometimes).
The world is a full of responsibility, bills, stress and working until you're retired. I know there's a less depressing view of the real world out there, but just don't look to the front page of the New York Times to find it.
I usually don't even really fully recognize the amount of depressing news I ingest ever day. Of course I comprehend the subject matter of the articles I read, and I do realize that I am in fact reading non-fiction. But to a certain degree, it seems so surreal.
It's because I'm a college student. I know all these things are important and have large effects on life, but it doesn't quite hit home completely.
I'm not amongst the chaos and danger in Iraq, I'm not looking to sell or buy real estate and I certainly do not have children that would be affected by SCHIP. I know all of these things are reality, but because I'm not directly linked to them in some way, they call come across almost fiction-like.
Only in college are you still on your parents' dime (for the most part) and still able to live an independent, adult life. Your life consists of keggers, a work-study job where you get paid to do your homework, approximately 15 hours of lecture a week, a community consisting of young, ambitious 20-somethings from all over the country (and world) and good, clean fun (sometimes).
The world is a full of responsibility, bills, stress and working until you're retired. I know there's a less depressing view of the real world out there, but just don't look to the front page of the New York Times to find it.
Today's NYT Front Page, which I found particularly depressing:ps -- hi chels. i can't wait to seee you!
- "Plan Would Ease F.C.C Restriction on Media Owners" One step forward for Rupert Murdoch, one step back for protecting media values & the fight against monopolies
- "Turkey Resolves to Give Go-Ahead for Raids in Iraq" As if there wasn't enough violence in Iraq, Turkey wants to fuel the fire
- "Teachers Agree to Bonus Pay Tied to Scores" Even more incentive to teach students to ace standardized tests, but fail at providing them with useful lessons
- "U.S. Concerned as Iraq Awards Power Deals to Iran and China" I thought the U.S. was only concerned with Iraq becoming a stable government, not who they trade with?
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