On Hiding

If I had to list my talents, one of the top contenders would have to be hiding. I don't mean the hide-and-seek variety, although I seem to recall being fairly skilled at that too. I am a genius at hiding from my problems--or anything that might be associated with said problems. 

In fact, this blog is an excellent example of this skill. I failed to meet my deadline for reading the Illiad. Someone who was less skilled at hiding might have simply continued to read the book and wrote the post a bit late. I however, am a master-level hider. I hid from my blog; I actually didn't even come to the site to follow up on the blogs I read. I hid from the topic and the people who were interested in the blog. I hid from the library (and accrued quite the late fee). I'm still hiding from going to library to pay that fee. 

For some reason, when things aren't going well I take the opinion: "if I ignore it, maybe it will ignore me." I don't know why I do this, maybe I'm part ostrich. I know that hiding from the bank doesn't actually make my debts go away; regardless, I feel a type of terror every time I even think about going in to do anything about it. 

The point of this is confession is simply to say that I'm going to try to not hide from this blog. Even when I'm not meeting my deadlines and accomplishing project goals, I have to use this space, or I might hide from those projects forever. Hiding from monsters does nothing to the monsters themselves.

On the bright side, when I do decide to stop hiding from the Illiad, I should be able to pick up where I left off: I took very thorough notes. 

On Second Tries

So, you (and by "you" I mean whichever friends I've managed to bully into reading this) may have noticed that I never posted a review on The Iliad on Friday. I have an excuse! Not a good one, but one nonetheless. My library card had expired, so I really only got two days with the book. I got through half of it in those two days (over 300 pages), but half a book does not a good review make. I'll have it in this Friday. Promise.

My first week of the project was okay (unsuccessful, but good). When I was on my game, I was really on my game. I mean, I spent two whole days just reading and taking notes! Notes! I was less successful this weekend, when I had my book but didn't go to the library. I think I need to arrange a spot in my house where I can gather my focus as well as I can at the library.

Also today instead of reading (or cleaning) I made a pie. Its pear/apple.

Yum

On Lawncare

I've never really understood the purpose of the lawn. I bring this up after a lost battle with lawncare I had on Monday evening, so you'll have to forgive me if I sound a bit spiteful, because I really am. After posting on Monday, I decided to tackle my lawn, mostly out of guilt and because my its become one of my family's greatest weapons of mockery against me. It was wild looking, I'll give them that.

So I had David help me take the big gas mower off the porch (and forced him to fill it up), and resolved that I couldn't use my little reel mower given the lawn's latest growth achievements. Then we duct-taped up a little remair becuase some godless plastic bit decided to go rogue and break off as soon as I tried to start the thing. Dandy. Halfway through mowing my side boulevard it died. Puttered out a cloud of black smoke and refused to go on. I almost understand; the side boulevard was a great enemy - it was its first time mowed this year because very little of it consists of "actual" lawn at this point (I'm rather proud to say), and looks more like a forest floor than anything else. Regardless, I wish I didn't tackle the side boulevard until I had done the rest of the manageable lawn, for now I was left alone in battle and only parts of the rest of the lawn were done. I never wanted to mow the side, but I've been berated over it for quite some time. I think it looks just fine on its own.

Anyways, one small mental breakdown later and there I was, desperately pushing on my little reel mower to try to get it done. It was a losing battle. Its still not done. Ugh.

The Importance of Being Mowed

Like I said, I never really understood the purpose of lawns. Apparently, in North America (as my wiki-researching goes) we grown more "lawn" then any other "crop," including corn. We also use more pesticides per square foot then we do on any other crop. Gas mowers have actually become a contender that contributes to summer smog. Why do we do this? What's the point in growing something that just for the sake of having to cut it? Why not grow something that stays close to the earth to begin with. Get this, I don't know if you've heard, but some people actually water their lawns. It seems almost insane: water the lawn so we can cut the lawn, wash, rinse, repeat. If it were not for other people I would NEVER even consider growing a lawn just to cut it. I'd let it grow. I'd let native plants move in and do whatever they wanted to my yard.

So the history of the lawn as we know it isn't that long. Apparently in the 20s the growing middle class of America wanted to feel more like British aristocracy and have lawns, and thanks to the invention of the mower, they could manage to do so without and army of servants or sheep. During the wars, hot and cold, people were encouraged to keep tidy lawns to show how resilient and okay we were. Imagine that: lawn care proving our mental fortitude. 

Regardless, I know I'll be out there again this week with my rusted and dulled reel mower... proving my sanity... crumbling before social norms... mowing my lawn.

On graduation.

I'm no longer a student... so that's something. I've not been a student before, but that was a time when I fully intended to become a student again. I'm done being a student for the foreseeable future. To be honest, I think I've not been a student for at least a year now, at least my heart hasn't been in the mode of "being a student" for that time, but now I'm really not a student.

"No more Teachers, No more Books."

I'm deeply relieved. I'm also terrified. I don't have the education to become a librarian, so my original plan (the plan of freshman Kayle) is out the window. I'll have to play by ear. Often, I maintain illusions of having a cafe/tea shop of my own; however, this isn't a play I can make with the cards I currently hold, at least not yet. I have to figure out how to finance such a venture, and I don't think a loan is either wise or possible when I consider the amount of student debt I've accumulated. I accept this fact. Not everyone can start out with their dream job: I have more dues to pay.

Regardless of all this, I'm so glad to not be a student any longer. I've wanted out for some time now. I feel like the reasons I went to university in the first place had stopped applying. I had wanted a broad, liberal arts education, and then I wanted to get a masters in library studies; however, to get the masters, I needed a four-year "honours" degree. Liberal arts degrees do not come in that flavour, so I chose philosophy, because those were the classes I really enjoyed and in theory it was a broad subject. Sadly, I've found that I don't particularly enjoy extreme "higher level" philosophical nit picking. It became so narrow. I felt like I was doing philosophy merely as a means to another end, and not for its own sake. Ironically, that made it very difficult for me to achieve my original end. It certainly didn't bring me any happiness.

It still bites that I can't become a librarian. I wanted to be the one who lead people to the information they sought, and to the stories that they'd connect to. I had imagined myself as a public librarian, perhaps specialised somewhat for young adults. I wanted to meet those rare kids who enjoyed reading and following their own educational paths, and I wanted to facilitate that compulsion towards self-directed learning. I wanted to put the right stories into the right hands. I would have been spectacular I think. But I can't bring myself to bridge the gap between my current self and that possible self. I simply not willing (or financially able) to do that much work for a future that might not even be possible. I'd have to repair my now blighted undergraduate transcripts. I'd have to get that honours degree. I'd have to be accepted to a graduate school, and then put in two more years of work to get the masters degree. And after all that, I'd have to hope that the librarian career as I wanted it still existed. The very thought of all that makes me dizzy and a little nauseous. I'm already 25 - I cannot and will not continue in this student limbo between my adolescence and adulthood. Put frankly, I need to grow up.

This post has already gotten darker then I had hoped. Its not all bad. Being a librarian isn't the only path I could take towards a good life. I have options, even I cannot see them all now, and I have found that life always seems to work itself out. And for what its worth, philosophy has given me a lot more then I'm often willing to admit. I met some great people in that department. I'm capable of obnoxiously critical thinking. I like to think that I'm somewhat more self aware then many, even if that hasn't made me a better person yet. Its entirely possible that now that it doesn't feel forced, that my original passion for learning and philosophy will be able to seep back into my life.

In the meantime, I have to figure out what employment sits in the crossover between "things I can do" and "thing I want to do."

On flowers, recent life, and blogs

So as it turns out, in order to have a blog, apparently it is customary to actually post in it. Who knew?

Flowers

Flowers have returned to my house. My grandma grows them; a Google search confirms that they are called Zinnias. I think they're quite lovely. I particularly enjoy how I seem to want to clean up more when they are present in the house. I feel as if they deserve a better atmosphere. 

I just finished reading a novel about four strangers who are all running away from their old lives who meet and become fast friends. In the end they (nearly) all return to their old lives with a new perspective. It made me consider my life, and the people who I'm connected to. As strange as it might seem, I started thinking about how much I'd miss these flowers every summer if they weren't there. And, perhaps a bit morbidly, how I'll always be reminded of my grandmother with either their existence or absence. Maybe I'll take up the tradition myself, and grow way too many Zinnias for my own vases to handle. I get a feeling that this is how traditions start.

Recent Life

I've been feeling really well for the past week(s). And unlike times in the past, I feel like this contentment might be able to last for a while. Normally, when I emerge from a depression I have a day or to of almost manic clarity. In these times I can be almost obnoxiously optimistic, and feel like I've figured it all out, but there is normally a nagging voice that reminds me that I'll be just as bad as ever in a day or two. This is always true, and thus the process repeats. This time is different for a couple of reasons, or at least it seems. I don't feel like everything is perfect. While there is some clarity about my life, I don't feel like I've solved existence. I certainly don't feel like this will last forever. I know time will be when I'm upset, or sad, or what-have-you. I just feel good about things: even things I still fear, like anything having to do with my future. I just feel like that can wait, and I'll see what can be done now. There is, of course, the possibility that I'll go back to university next week and suddenly be plunged back into the abyss, but for some reason my intuition says otherwise. I normally have a very good intuition. I still don't know what the hell I'm going to do with myself however, I also kinda don't care. I'm almost positive that I'll continue on in some fashion, and that I'll probably end up doing something I enjoy. It's a good feeling.

Blogs

So, this has been a very Dear Diary type of post. I don't know what possessed me to type here rather than jot all this down in my underused journal. I was thinking earlier this month that I'd post twice a week: once as a personal blog, and once as a book review. I was thinking of reading one book from the Penguin Great Ideas series a week, and then letting my thoughts be known. I still like this theory, but I don't have the books yet, nor do I have much confidence in my ability to read and post about these great works every week. So I think, at least for the time being that I'll keep things casual, with no set posting times. I still want to read those books, and even consider reviewing/reflecting on them, but I'd also like to mix up my reading. I want philosophy, yes but I'd also like to read maybe politics, science, some poetry, great literature, and a bunch of less great novels. I mean, the book I just finished: "Nights of Rain and Stars" by Maeve Binchy, is no great classical work or philosophical wonder, but it did make me look at the world through a different lens, and I think I'm better off having read it. So there.

I think I could review "The Tao of Pooh" by Benjamin Hoff, as I've read it a few times now. It would make for a gentle beginning to the whole venture.