two roads diverged in a wood and I...

I wandered completely away from the roads and got lost.

But lost seems to have a negative connotation and that is not what I mean at all.  I got wonderfully, fabulously, hopelessly turned around until I realized that roads are boring and I like doing my own thing anyway.  It is much more fun.

This off-road train of thought was prompted by a reconnection with a friend from high school (facebook is occasionally great for nostalgia).  We exchanged the inevitable chit-chat that always involves, "So, what are you up to now?"  This question always takes me back to the last time I saw that person and what I thought I would be up to at that point.  When I was graduating high school, what did I think I would be doing at age twenty-two?  I mean, at the time I thought twenty-two was decidedly adult-aged and that is just untrue.

 How I saw anyone over the age of twenty.

Well, I thought I would be graduated from college (success!) at or near the top of my class with some appropriately impressive major (um...well...).  I thought I would be off in some exciting new city (uh...how do you define exciting?  or...city?) pursuing some either highly or decently-paying job that was a perfect mix of usefulness, bragging rights, and awesomeness.  Perhaps as some golden-child rookie journalist covering world affairs and oppressed people, or a U.N. worker with a vaguely-defined but indispensible function.  Maybe an appropriately humble musician dedicating a portion of profits to charities or an invaluable assistant to some diplomat or aid worker...or famous person.  I am shallow sometimes (and I did such a great job of hiding it!).  Also, my job is none of those things.  My job serves the function of paying for my rent and that is all I need at the moment (because of my big plans to move to somewhere new!  And...and exotic!  With a great and fulfilling occupational and/or educational opportunity!  This will happen!).

Life is not what you expect.  Ever.  If I could teach one thing to my sisters (ok, one of many things), it would be that little lesson.  Despite what I seemed to think going into college, life consistently turned out nothing like what I planned and that ended up making it pretty wonderful.  This is going to descend into a compare-and-contrast list form eventually, I just know it.  I will do that now and end the suspense.

Major:  I started college considering majors in english, journalism/communications, and possibly music.  I majored in none of those things.  I didn't even minor in any of them.  I graduated college with a degree in Peace Studies (it's a branch of international political science, ok?) and minors in philosophy and theology.  It turns out that things that interest you are not always things that will get you a job.  This is ok as long as you also are able to figure out some sort of compromise that you can live with:  a job you want, but not a paycheck you want, or a life-sustaining paycheck, but from a job you care little to not at all about.  Part of being a partially grown-up being is learning that every time you shift your life is not "selling out".  Sometimes, it is just being realistic.

 This was not my major.

This, plus some under-eye circles and papers, was my major.

Also, I was not academically at the top of my class.  Sure, I did a decent job.  Perfectly respectable.  But that 4.0 GPA?  It was determined that was not happening after my first semester of college.  I got over it.  I found a balance between studying and having a social life.  I had fun.  And I eventually made the connection that doing well in high school does not mean doing equally as well in college.

Career:  I still want to do something big and I still am stuck with a (potentially delusional) idea that I will eventually find a job I absolutely love that pays me enough to live on.  However, I am currently working in a dental office where I check insurance.  Not what I wanted to do at all, but the job pays well, has good hours and benefits, and lets me work in a very laid-back environment with incredibly nice people.  For now, I am lucky.

But I still totally plan on disappearing into an envious job.  Possibly on another continent.  Eventually.

 Beware, Bourdain.  I am plotting ways to get your job.

Location:  I expected to be living in a city somewhere.  Maybe New York, or Boston, or Washington D.C., or Seattle, or Portland.  Somewhere big and exciting and new with tons of job opportunities.  Instead, I am living in Pullman, WA.  This is a town larger than my hometown of 5,000 only when school is in session.  It is small and peopled with frat children. 

Not pictured: brain function or basic social mores

Don't get me wrong, it is not without its charms.  But if I find myself still living here in five years, I will have to seriously re-examine my life.  However, this is only two years of my life spent in a town that was unexpected to me, but not something I dislike.  And living here is totally worth probably the most unexpected part of my current life...

Relationships:  I am married.  At twenty-two.  Really?  It's still strange even to me and I carefully thought about it for a long time and have been living it for several months.  I never really thought about relationships.  I dated once in high school and, while an enjoyable experience, it led me to the conclusion that I liked dating and being single pretty much equally.  I liked being on my own.  My high school girl friends and I (Taylor, Michelle, and Jessie, I am talking about you) joked about our different dating personalities and tendencies in high school and if I remember correctly, we decided I would probably get married last because I could totally take it or leave it.  Being married would be cool, but so would staying single.  We may have guessed incorrectly.

I dated a couple times in college and then ended up in a long-term marriage-type relationship my junior year.  The lone-wolf mentality did not hold out.  I have never been more pleased to be proven wrong.  Even at the times when I freak out about being married and being young and clueless about most of my life, I have the coolest marriage and the best husband and pretty much the most fun I've ever had.  It is awesome.  Damn, I got lucky.

Life is messy.  And confusing.  And insanely unpredictable.  But thank God my life has not turned out the way I thought it would.  My imagination was a strange combination of presumptuous and boring.

So, conclusion: ditch the road and get lost.  It's great.

I thought getting married would make me old...

...but it turns out getting older makes me old.

Yeah, yeah, I know I am not actually old.  I just have been hit by the startling and strange revelation that some parts of my childhood are never-heard-of to kids as old as middle school now.  It's strange.  I am part of the "young folk", but not part of the "really young folk".  I am considered an adult by those small folk.  This is odd.  And vaguely unsettling.

This was brought on by the discovery of a shoebox in my old room full of "mixed" cassette tapes from my youth (that is, into mid high-school).  These tapes were laboriously made by my sisters and I by either holding a cassette recorder up to the radio speakers when a good song came on or by selecting individual songs from our compiled cds and pressing "record" on the cassette player in my stereo at exactly the right time.  We listened to those mix tapes with ridiculous pride for years.  I realize how sad that is now because, well, we were children and had terrible taste in music.

I have great memories of making those tapes, but I realized that most kids nowadays have absolutely nothing to do with cassettes.  Their "mix tapes" are playlists now.  If I get lucky I will find a kid that still makes mix cds.  I used cassettes.  I am ancient.

I also am getting all set in my musical ways.  I know what I like and I am fine with saying what I don't like.  I don't listen to screaming music any more.  I have stopped pretending that I will like country.  I am sick to death of all that punk/rock and pop/punk I used to listen to.  I like classic rock.  I like folk.  I like jazz.  I like bluegrass.  I like some indie stuff.  And I think most rappers are imbeciles.  Someday, perhaps even someday soon, smal children will say I listen to old-people music.  I will need to be ok with that.

I don't like to stay up all night anymore.  I will do it every once and a while and I will even stay up late sometimes.  But joining the ranks of the employed-at-an-office has forced me to get up early-ish.  This requires me to go to bed earlier or I cease to function.  Yes, I am lame.  But I am also making money.  This is good for that whole pay-bills-and-buy-food thing I was going for.

I think I need to write a Murtaugh list.  And maybe combine it with a list of things I am too young for.  Then maybe I can figure out what I am supposed to be doing at my age.  It has been a mystery to me up to this point.

I am too old for:
- taking long unpaid internships instead of a real job.
-wearing anything that makes me look like I am about to pull a skateboard out of my backpack.
-getting a facial piercing.
-going for days at a time without six consecutive hours of sleep.
-subsisting on a diet of foods entirely covered in cheese or frosting.
-wearing any form of body glitter.
-dying my hair any color not found in nature

I am too young for:
-paying for hotels if there is a couch, futon, or apartment floor I can sleep on instead.
-going to bed before midnight on weekends.
-eating things like bran and wheat germ consistently.
-drinking only expensive beers.
-settling down in one place permanently.
-talking about the state of my bowels.  seriously, no one wants to hear about that.  ever.

O, this will be added to.  Throw me more things that we, collectively, are either too young for or too old for.

Off to that job.  I'm too young for this office stuff.

WAR! What is it good for...

...'cause I'm still unclear.

And I mean that in a serious way, not a "damn all war to heck" kind of way but more a serious "does war actually help things" kind of way.

And I'm unclear.

Based on a great deal of thought, consideration, reading, and questioning brought on by my own nature, my major, and probably a mix of my season of life and the political climate we live in, I became a complete pacifist in college.  "Complete" here is less a descriptive term and more a definition of the type of pacifist I am.  I am pro-life in a universal sense.  I think abortion is a tragedy, but I think that the death penalty is just as great a tragedy.  I think any time we kill another human being it is a profoundly serious thing that we should never take lightly and never look at with anything other than sorrow.  And I also think it is wrong, morally wrong, to kill another human being.

I believe that war falls under this category.  I believe it is wrong to kill even our enemies.  They are human beings as well.

However, there is a problem here.

What happens when one wrong, like intentionally killing another human being, comes up against another wrong, like trying to wipe out a culture?  How can I say it is wrong to use force to stop a genocide?  How can I say it is wrong to use force to defend a country or people who are being taken over?  How can it be wrong to kill in order to keep your family alive?

Much as I hate it, this isn't exactly black and white.

This recent bout of reflections on the practicality of pacifism was brought about because Tyler and I have been watching Band of Brothers.  I have never seen the show before and I find myself impressed with their portrayal of the humanity of the soldiers, the horror of battle, the shock and devastation of watching your friends die around you, and the painful mix of pride and shame, duty and horror that come whenever forced to kill an enemy.  I understand the need to dehumanize, to think in simple terms, stark definitions: ally and enemy, friend and foe.  A soldier would go mad without this distinction.

I also recognize the incredible sacrifice made by each serviceman.  The willingness to die to defend one's country, the conflict and trauma that they suffer through should they survive, and the deep sense of honour and duty that each possess is admirable and deserving of respect.  We should be grateful and proud of those who serve.  And I am.

But seeing these horrible things enforces even more in my mind the idea that the ultimate goal should be the end of all wars.  I think after seeing the horror of death all around, servicemen would say that they wish there was no more war. 

My particular form of pacifism does not advocate peace and lack of conflict because I am weak or too soft to stomach the fact that sometimes negotiation and diplomacy will not work.  I know that Rwanda required intervention.  I agree that ending the Holocaust required action.  But being aware that diplomacy and peaceful protests do not always work does not mean they shouldn't be tried.  If there is any way to solve a conflict without bloodshed, shouldn't we try that first?

I know, I know.  I sound stupidly naive.  "The end of all wars" does not seem like a realistic option.  And maybe it's not.  But peaceful change is not impossible.  Martin Luther King Jr. made huge steps towards equality and justice through non-violent actions.  Ghandi helped to liberate a country through non-violence.  OTPOR sent a murderous dictator out of office using peaceful protests.  Good things can happen and, I hope, will continue to happen through non-violence.

I am not saying wars have never been necessary.  And I also do not agree with St. Augustine that there is the possibility of a "holy war" that can be performed in a completely justified, God-sanctioned way.  I think his criteria for a "holy war" is impossible.

What I am saying is that we should look at war as a bad thing.  Occasionally, maybe it is a necessary evil, but we should not lightly consider war or propose it as a first solution to conflict.  We should never look at it as an easy way to get what we want or use it in aggression.  We should respect all those who go to war and pray that there will come a time when their sacrifice is no longer necessary.  We should hope that someday we will no longer have to face the pain of sending those we love off to die far from home.  We should remember that those we send and those we fight are all people with hopes, fears, dreams, and families.

Here's to a better future.

Rebel without a point...

...that title was unintentionally depressing.

Today, dear reader, I have been thinking about groups.  The stereotype kind of group.  This was brought on because someone reminded me (again) that I am so totally a hippie.

While I have nothing against hippies, really, I am not a big fan of being lumped into different groups like this.  Like most normal human beings, I like to think of myself as unique and individual.  I do not like feeling like some conformist that blends perfectly into a pre-set group, thus allowing anyone that meets me to associate me with that group and therefore avoid actually getting to know me.

"I have literally no interest in knowing you as an individual!"

Largely due to my choice in major and possibly due to actual aspects of my personality, I get the hippie thing a lot.  I have also throughout my life been lumped in with the geeks, jocks (wow, was that a brief period), popular folk, artists, prudes, and hipsters.  I think at this point in my life any of those groups would forcibly cast me out if I attempted to be "one of them".  And I am overwhelmingly comfortable with this.

In a move that is sure to offend some, I am going to write down basic descriptions of various stereotyped groups as I understand them and then submit why I don't think I fit into that particular group.  In my mind, this is proving some sort of point about how I am a wild card and like to do my own thing.  I like to think of myself as some sort of rebellious figure:  following only the dictates of my own mind, marching only to the beat of my own drum, dancing badly in my own bad-dancing style.  However, it is likely that to everyone else in the world, I will seem a lot more like a five-year-old with her fingers in her ears yelling "you're not the boss of me!"  This is a risk I am willing to take.  Onward.

Geek:  The geek, as it has been applied to me, is a veritable medley of nerdy things.  Highly involved in academics, takes school very seriously, follows rules and authority figures very well, and in general a well-behaved and meek little creature.  Natural habitat is hiding behind a book and tends to bring up obscure facts in what could have been a normal conversation.  Most likely a highly organized, slightly anal, type-A sort of person who freaks out over incorrect formulas and improper grammar with the same level of uncontrolled rage generally displayed by Al Gore over global warning.  By which, of course, I mean that the rage is largely impotent and is ignored or mocked by others.

"I cling to the idea of being your boss someday."

 

-While I did, in fact, enjoy my last few years of high school and I absolutely loved college, this is because I got to do things I liked.  I love reading and writing, but I am appalling at math.  I am terrible with numbers to the point that if numbers were children, I would have willingly handed them to CPS long ago to spare them from having to suffer with me.  I am also pretty tragically messy and disorganized and am nothing like type-A.  I fall much closer to type-Z, if that exists.  I was a pretty decent rule-follower up until college when I decided to only follow rules if I decided they made sense and if they came from a person I respected.

I do really hate grammatical and spelling errors, though.

Jock:  The jock title, as far as I know, generally goes to some beefy creature with prominent muscles who lives either in workout clothing or the dark recesses of some party.  Interests include working out, practicing, and engaging in dumbed-down horseplay with jock buddies.  Probably watching Jersey Shore, too.  They are often called "meat-heads" by people who perceive them to be less than intelligent.  Generally tied into the popular crowd.  Often appear to be quite preppy.  None of those shaggy-haired or pierced types.
*  I would like to reiterate that these are very broad stereotypes that I am fully aware do not apply to most people who would consider themselves "jocks".  I am just reporting the general idea.  Please don't beat me.

"I could easily destroy you."

 

-Do I even need to contest this?  I am wildly nonathletic and the only reason I was ever thrown in here is because I was on the junior varsity soccer team my freshman year.  My association with being a jock probably ended about halfway through the season when people observing me realized I had the muscle structure and coordination of a melting gumby.

Popular folk:  The top of the social hierarchy.  These people are often extremely attractive, wealthy, and well-groomed.  They are well-known to others, either on a personal level or just through reputation.  People tend to seek their company or their approval or both.  Tend to be gifted socially and are adept at communicating with others and reading social situations.  Usually considered to be very into cliques and exclusion of anyone who does not meet their "standards", whatever those are.

"We are above you even though we star in an awful tv show!"

-I did know a lot of people in high school, but I would never have been considered socially gifted.  I was afraid of people for too long to really be adept at that whole "conversation" thing and I was not nearly assertive enough to be popular.  Besides, I always thought it took some level of desire to make yourself popular and I never had the slightest desire for it.



Artist:  This category is going to include musical artists, theater artists, and artists who make art.  Artists generally suffer from taking their work much more seriously than they should.  Sure, some people really are gifted at an early age, but most people would agree that high school drama and band concerts and art shows are pretty boring.  They are good for their age, but who wouldn't rather be going to something professional?  Anyhow, artists put a lot of emphasis on personal expression.  This usually carries over into appearance so artists have some interesting ideas about hair and makeup and thrift store clothing that probably should not exist any more.  They are very tuned into their emotions (occasionally too much so) and tend to think of themselves as brooding or misunderstood.  Probably the most commonly repeated phrase of any type of artist is that most people just wouldn't get whatever it is they do.

"I am cool and misunderstood."

 

-Okay, yes, some of this fits me.  I was in choir, band, drama, and art classes in high school.  I also have a tendency to think (or maybe hope?  assume?) that people don't completely understand me.  I don't like fitting in boxes.  I don't like being labeled.  However, I like to think that I was always pretty aware that even if I had a good voice or made a good painting, it wasn't really exceptional.  And I generally assumed that if someone didn't like something I made, it was just because they didn't like it, not because they were ignorant Philistines.

Prude: An uptight, insanely conservative, fairly judgemental individual.  Not open to different views of lifestyle choice, opposed to bad language, drinking, sexual activity, and pretty much any breaking of rules.  Considered to be not very fun.  Will spend most of their lives judging anyone that happens to pass by them until they die alone with their cats.

I have no idea what to even put for a picture of this.

-I stayed very legal in high school, but I don't think I was ever really judgemental of anyone that didn't.  I also flatter myself that my friends and I were quite fun.  And, of course, plenty of rules were broken in college and plenty of life was experienced.

Also, I don't even like cats.

Hipster:  These are those creatures who are violently opposed to being "main stream" or doing anything that "the crowd" does or liking anything that "the crowd" likes.  Ironically, their aggressive individuality is all expressed the same way.  They all listen to indie bands that become uncool as soon as other people have actually heard of them, wear expensive clothing made to look cheap, have mac books, wear "ironic" t-shirts and scarves, and hang out in coffee shops all the time.  Many have glasses and shaggy haircuts.  Some are pretend-Marxists or have a love affair with Che Guevara without actually knowing what he did.

 "My whole existence is ironic."

-I myself sometimes like indie music, but I continue liking it after it is popular.  I also like things that are definitely both mainstream and shallow.  I love America's Next Top Model.  Is there a certain shame in admitting that?  Of course.  But the shame comes from liking a show that is full of shallow, stupid caricatures of individuals and may actually lower my intelligence through watching it, not because it is "main stream".  I do occasionally wear crappy clothing, but that is because I am cheap.  I do love coffee shops, own glasses and scarves, and have un-trimmed hair.

And I actually know a ton about Che Guevara, the mass-murdering guerrilla fighter.

Hippie:  An unwashed, uncombed, patchouli-scented mass of pot-smoke and peace-talk.  Loves nature and animals, loves sticking it to the man, ridiculously mellow, pacifistic, flower-children who like drugs and free love.  Generally opposed to consumerism, grow their own vegetables, get clothing from thrift stores or give-aways, and are very in-touch with their feelings and a great many inclusivist philosophies.  Love tye-dye and don't love things like shaving and basic hygiene.  Interested in other cultures and religions from around the world, opposed to war, big fans of outdoor concerts and nudity, and would like everyone to live in a series of self-sufficient communes.  Also like drum circles and not eating animals.  And enjoy organic things.

"We love everything.  Also, we smell."

 

-I practice basic hygiene.  I like being shaven.  I do not use any drugs and I am not so much into that whole "free love" thing.  I have no issues with buying clothes from regular stores.  I hate gardening and have a tendency to kill any green thing I come in contact with.  I get annoyed when people get too touchy-feely or launch into "beautiful" ideas, like "we-are-all-one-shimmering-ball-of-light".  I don't like it when they make everything some deep, profound revelation.  I am eating a sandwich, not "becoming one with the life-force of the food".  I am not a fan of public nudity.  And my goal is not the ultimate disassembly of government.  I am decidedly not vegetarian and I think drum circles are boring.

But I do enjoy occasionally sticking it to the man.

Ha.  I am none of the above.  Not fully, anyway.  Maybe just some bits and pieces here and there.  I am a ... unique amalgam?

Well, that's that.  I know this should have a better summary, but the title did warn you that I may or may not have a point.

Off to find another form of rebellion.

Christmas, New Year, and life in the average lane...

...because that is just how I roll.

First, the Christmas road trip extravaganza.  I kept a bit of a log of my thought process throughout the trip, just to see if I really am as random and nonsensical as I had suspected.  Turns out, I am more so than I suspected.

A brief log of topics as they passed in and out of my head (in the exact order they occurred, but without segue explanations):  how nice energy drinks are, reasons why I have never lived near an ocean, how to remedy the situation, wondering whether men are also fascinated by shiny things,  non-magical ways to make broomsticks or carpets fly (and thinking that carpets might be better for long-distance travel just because you could recline while traveling, though this in no way negates how awesome it would be to have a flying broomstick), the pros and cons of living in a Harry Potter world (cons: everyone else can do magic unless you are extremely unlucky and end up a muggle, there are rules, even though it would make you more powerful, jerks would be more powerful too...  pros: you can do magic!  pros win.  obviously.), whether it would be advisable or inadvisable to dye my hair for no reason, how cool it looks when the landscape is all black-and-white until random color jumps in, bits of bad poetry, considering the pros and cons of being a secret government agent...

This list continues, but you get the gist.

Anyhow, after what I would like to consider minimal insanity, we arrived in Denver and then made the journey on to Whitefish.  It was great seeing family and...family.  My family has expanded and this was one of the first times that really hit home.  It is cool and surreal.

So, New Year.  I know that many or most people make themselves some new year's resolutions around this time.  I am pretty anti-resolution because I hate deadlines (stick it to the...calendar) and I always thought that if I wanted to change something about myself I could start at anytime.  However, I have been examining my life lately and I have found it to be exceedingly...average.

Please do not mistake my meaning.  I have a lot in my life that is amazing and that I am so grateful for.  I really have the coolest husband ever.  We are both pretty healthy.  I have a good job.  I have good friends that technology allows me to stay in contact with.  I have plenty to entertain myself with.  I have two awesome families that are happy to include me.  I also get to hang out with wonderful dogs whenever we visit said families.

The average part of my life is pretty much just me.  I feel like I am very typical right now.  Mediocre.  Unremarkable.  Just out of college.  Not much money.  Working in a job that, while admittedly is a good job, I really am not even a little passionate about. Mainly directionless.  My goal up to now has been to keep myself from being bored instead of actually improving myself.  That is the part that should change.

I have new goals I want to achieve.  I am going to start the job of achieving them now.  I have absolutely no concept of how long it will take me to finish them or if I will ever really finish, but I think doing something productive will make me feel a little less average (please, please, please).  And, let's face it, no one wants to think that they are average.  Fading away into some comfortable, safe, boring statistic has been one of my biggest fears, so it is time to take steps to avoid that.  For now, the steps will be fairly realistic.  I can't force Tyler to move to Prague until he finishes school.

Goals:

-Learn to play the guitar.  I have tried to do this several times.  I even took a class at college my freshman year.  But I always learn a bit and then stop practicing and stop playing.  I love music.  I miss singing.  And, while there is a definite possibility that I will find I cannot write any songs that do not sound like sad little junior-high poetry assignments, it would be awesome if I found out I could actually write and play decent music that I like.  So I will learn to play the guitar.

-Learn Chinese.  This is...well, really ambitious.  But we have a Rosetta Stone Chinese program and we have been bouncing around the idea of heading to China for a while after Tyler finishes his master's.  It could only be a good thing for me to speak the language, and I really like learning other languages.  I will learn Chinese (or at least learn as much as I can on this program).

-Make more artwork.  I miss my art classes so much and I am seldom happier than when I am working on a project I really love.  I have not made anything since charcoal dylan that is hanging in our living room among the other dylans.  I have everything I need, including time, and I really have no excuse not to be doing this.  More art!

-Learn to cook more things.  It's not that I completely suck at cooking, but I do not know a ton about it.  I need to learn a lot of basic things.  I have to look up specific recipes for everything and even then I often get intimidated.  I need to cook more often.  Then I won't be at risk of starving to death every time Tyler leaves town.

-Research what I want to do.  I know I am not very (or at all) passionate about the job I am doing.  I do not know what job I would be passionate about doing.  I know some things I am interested in, but I do not know if they can be careers or if jobs even exist in some of the areas I care about.  I think it is time to focus on what kind of job I want and see if I need to go to more school for it or just be more proactive about finding it.  It's time to pick a direction.  Well, to research what directions sound most appealing, really.

-Read.  A lot.  Lord knows I love to sit and watch tv shows and movies, but doing that all the time leads me to moments when I am afraid that my brain is going to atrophy to the point that it will resemble nasty, day-old tapioca that's been left out so it gets that gross pudding-skin.  I am not trying to claim that everything I read will be literary genius, but I need to be reading something.

Please, please send me recommendations of things to read.
And advice about other goals.
And advice about how to pursue these goals.  I have several friends who already are excellent at many of these things.  Help me.  I have no idea how long this fit of motivation will last.

Time to read.
Freedom, Hunger Games, or Pride, Prejudice and Zombies?

I am so reading Zombies.