A History of Silence

So, to start with my customary thought: I am horrible at blogging. I'm not sure who I do this for, other than myself and maybe a few friends, but oh well. I still enjoy it when I have the time. And if there is any place that ought to give me the time to blog, it is the Peace Village that I am currently staying in for the Images and Voices of Hope 2010 World Summit. While I knew that it was some kind of spiritual retreat location, I had no idea how integrated the reflection and meditation would be with the summit content. Actually pretty cool, if a little hard to describe.

The conference started with a moment of silence. Immediately, I began reflecting on the simple topic of silence, which makes me think of many things from my past. I break these things into two intersecting axes of categories, each with two divisions. On the first axis is scope: personal or communal silence. On the second axis is tone: abrasive or supportive. There are many things that could fall into these categories, but I'm going to reflect only on the ones most pressing in my mind: just one from each group, though it will be hard to choose in some places.

First, personal abrasive silence. A dominant example in this category for me was Catholic church. I absolutely despised the time in which we would get off the pews, kneel down, and be expected to pray on cue. I would stare blankly down at the floor and think about anything that came to mind, but I would very infrequently pray and mostly feel uncomfortable. This is not to say that I never prayed, just that the format didn't appeal to me. I actually developed a dislike of crossing my hands or arms together and bending my head down for a while, for whatever purpose. Playing 7 Up in class was particularly reminiscent of the church prayer experience for me, and subsequently abhorred.

Next, personal supportive silence. Probably the exact opposite of the previous experience; I think here about stargazing. There is something inexplicably personal about this activity for me, even if I am with other people when I do it. Stargazing has been a regular activity since I can remember (even when it was just moongazing when we lived in Queens), and I suspect it is the sense that I am looking outward at something so vast that forces me to reflect on my place in that vastness. To me, that experience is more spiritually inspiring than any church pew. Lumped into this category I would also put other connections with nature: viewing mountains or bodies of water, and laying out on grass during rain storms or sitting on sand dunes. I love all of it, and there is something about the experience of it all that inspires quiet, calm, and contentment.

Third, communal abrasive silence. This is a rare thing and in my opinion extremely uncomfortable. Standing in an elevator with people you don't know and that clearly don't want to talk to you. Riding the bus home with teammates after going to state finals and placing second by just one point. Watching your high school chemistry teacher fume in silent anger after someone eats dry ice. I've broken my rule of only giving one example, probably because these instances of silence are so torturous as to not even bear discussion or deep reflection. They are the moments in which you want desperately to say something, and yet have nothing meaningful to contribute. And you know that everyone else present is likely feeling the same way. It just sucks.

Lastly, communal supportive silence. My favorite. This brings to mind above all else my primary school music programs. I loved the moments when you knew that everyone was thinking the same thing and working towards the same goal without uttering a word. The best songs we sang or played were always the ones that required long pauses, deep silence, and then a gentle step forward together, timed perfectly after months of practice. The most memorable of those moments came while in the Ira Allen Chapel on UVM campus, winning the regional portion of the National High School A Cappella Association's annual competition. There are other events unassociated with music that stick out for me here as well. The prayer circle around our flag pole on September 11th. The moment of silence on my graduation day for the two students that had not lived to see it. Even driving in a car next to someone else and knowing that you are both enjoying the experience without the need to vocalize it. Social moments of positive silence are by far the most refreshing, comforting, simple but perfect versions of peaceful reflection, I think.

Not sure if that should really lead anywhere. These are just some observations from my personal life. While the thought of silence makes me cringe when I think about how quiet I used to be, and that my favorite quote in my high school year book is "Silence is golden," it's actually quite a rich and enjoyable topic to delve into right now... I suspect it will remain that way for years to come, and that the nuances of the topic will only grow in detail.

The Happiness Project

So I've been reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, and I think it's made me realize that I've been working on my own happiness project for about a year now. Maybe not as methodical, but perhaps just as effective.

Rubin tackles the task of making herself happier by outlining 12 topics to cover over the course of 1 year: marriage, parenthood, friends, eternity, attitude, work, play, passion, energy, money, and mindfulness. She took on one subject each month, adding to the resolutions from the previous month and leaving the 12th month of the year to juggle all 11 topics.

So far, I've read her first two months/chapters entitled "Boost Energy" and "Remember Love." The first in particular allowed me to notice changes I've made in my own life. I play DDR for an hour and a half on Saturdays and Sundays, half an hour on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and 45 minutes of Wii Fit on Tuesdays and Thursdays (I've lost 5 pounds this month, hopefully that's only the beginning). I make a list of chores to get done on weekends; even if I don't make it through all of them, I still feel accomplished. To clear clutter out of my apartment, I look for something to bring down to the dumpster or the recycling bins with me every morning (and it's gotten to the point where I literally hunt down emptied and useless items). I listen to songs that make me walk faster on my way to and from work. If I feel like singing or dancing to that music, I do (to varying degrees depending upon the presence of other people).

I've also worked a bit on the interpersonal side. I only say no to a social engagement if I'm double-booked, where previously I might hesitate due to the uncertainty of the outcomes. If my family or a friend calls, I call them back as soon as possible instead of waiting for them to check in again in a few weeks. I try to be an initiator and encourager instead of a responder and an agreer. I've stopped accommodating others at the cost of my own mental health - or at least, I don't do it without speaking up a little.

Now I'm following the book and thinking about what my resolutions would be each month. What would this month be? I think boosting energy is more than just physical for me, so it warrants two months of work. What I would call "Feeling Smarter" in a sense, keeping myself actively reflecting, learning, and creating. I've started playing one song on the keyboard every morning, watching one piece of media in Japanese with subtitles at least once a week, and hopefully keeping up with my blog more regularly. Once I have furniture in my apartment again, I'm hoping to get back into pastels on the weekends - I have five small frames I bought to fill with artwork weekly.

Anyway, more important than the details of such a plan is the engagement and determination to do it. I think there are very few people that wouldn't benefit from such an endeavor. Just something to ponder.

Surfacing for Air

I keep saying it: I'm a terrible blogger. But wow, 3 months this time...oh how the time goes by. I'm listening to Owl City's "Hello Seattle" in...you guessed it, Seattle. Maybe it's because it hasn't rained yet, but I'm really loving the city. Well, I am now that I've been down to the Pike Street Market. It's the largest year-round market in the country, which I think is just phenomenal, not to mention its diversity of offerings in local and imported arts and crafts.

I discovered today that wearing my polka-dotted dress, Ann Taylor sweater, white costume jewelry, and funky red lipstick, while not particularly mature by my standards, has gotten me called ma'am an awful lot. Or at least that's what I attribute it to. Maybe eating and shopping alone is just considered an older person's thing to do. What I also discovered was the best panang curry I've ever had in my life, at a Thai place called Typhoon down by the water. Perfect combination of creamy, peanutty, and spicy. And the deal-sealer: it was cheap. I love a place where I can afford to be a foodee.

My presentation this morning with peer Tim Miner and Information Literacy Librarian Sarah Cohen was quite possibly the most fun I've had giving a presentation in a long while. Many of the questions we expected to be grilled with were passed off on the presenters just before us, who were paired with our session. Either way, I think we could have handled it, and our ideas were generally accepted well. Yet another day where becoming a librarian feels at least marginally feasible.

I say marginally because being here makes me realize how little I really do know about librarianship. I've done my best to get excited about the panels and contributed papers, but I just don't know what a lot of them are trying to address. That said, this is probably the friendliest community of conference goers I've met thus far, and so I at least don't feel like running out of the room when I realize I don't know much about the topics at hand.

So, one more day of the conference to go before I fly home and get back to business, which there's been quite a lot of lately. I got my first apartment, which has switched on the financial freakout flashing red light in my head, and consequently I've been becoming increasingly more nervous about securing a sustainable career in Burlington. Heck, I'm even unsure of finding a sustainable job in Burlington, let alone something that will advance my life goals. I hope my portfolio will sell my abilities as an individual, and I hope that I soon find the time to work on that portfolio more!

But enough of worries. There are plenty of things to celebrate. I'll be going to GDC for the first time in just over a week now, and I was on VPR last month talking about games and higher ed. with the fabulous Ann DeMarle and Wesley Knee. That was another fun presentation-esque experience, and yet another strange thing for me to put in my CV.

I'm seeing more and more that my life may not always be full of surprises, but it sure is full of strange things, and I think it's something to be valued. On that note, back to the conference I go!

Expansion One: Family Time

While this post is intended to elaborate on one of the brief points I made in my last entry, there is something I have to say first about blogging - it's the strangest addiction I've ever had. Once I've written a post, even if it was something small, I find myself gripped by a strong desire to write again. In the face of ever-busier days and grueling nights, it's easy for me to lose sight of this urge, but if I even have enough time to click on my Google Reader and scroll over the posts of my friends and colleagues, I get the itch. Unavoidable, it feels, but I'm not complaining.

So, family. It's a beautiful thing, and something so special when you really think about it. We often induct people into the circle that we claim as family, but upon visiting my aunt this past month, I had to really wonder if those other relationships would be able to endure a decade of silence without showing any wear or tear. I'd certainly like to hope so, though I also hope I'll never have a reason to test it out. I'm glad to say that at least in the case of real family, it felt like I'd heard those familiar voices, seen their smiling faces only a day before.

There are very few things that keep me quiet in life (these days, anyway). One of them is a fear of inflicting pain. I was so young when my family started to crumble. I was too young to understand why it was happening, and too old to ask without thinking. I couldn't remember ever hearing a word of real explanation, but I could easily recall tears and frustration. So I held my tongue, even though my greatest pen pal, my aunt, hadn't written in weeks, months, years, and the last postcard we got from her trip to Japan hung gathering dust on the refridgerator, next to a picture of my two-year-old cousin's face.

In the long run, I had to hope those relics of a wonderful relationship were on display for a reason. At my ripe age of twenty-one, I also felt strongly that I didn't have to involve anyone else in my endeavors to reconnect. Of course, finding an address may have been a problem when I was ten years old, but the power of the Internet has matured just as well as I have. And thank goodness for that, at least in this situation.

A letter and an email later, I was relieved, overjoyed, heartbroken to have missed so much, anxious to learn so much more. But I was also still a little afraid of causing pain, uncertain as I picked up my phone to tell my mom the news. There were so many ways it could have gone, given my limited knowledge, but the emotional highway simply continued to speed off in the same direction I'd been paving it. Myself, my mom, my sister were all touched to see pictures of my aunt, uncle, and cousin. We were all electrified with desire to make plans, and for once I was ready to throw work out the window and get in one real week of vacation.

I did get that week, and it was probably one of the longest in my life. I can't say I really have a working memory of any other vacation that long - sad, I know. In some ways, it became a bit of a struggle towards the end to not go nuts wondering how my projects were doing. But the benefits of shutting myself off from life, cell phone service, and Internet access almost completely were immeasurable. In one week, I learned more about my family - my grandparents, my greatgrandparents, my dad - than I had in the rest of my life. I saw things that sucked me back in time in a matter of seconds, tasted things I hadn't recalled the existence of. I absorbed all the Japanese language I could, and yearned to see all the places my family had visited in their trips to Japan over the years. The only disheartening thing I took away from all of it was that no one has heard from my dad. I can't imagine living life without contact with my parents and siblings, as infrequently as I may call up my own.

Ba-chan is turning 81 on Thursday. She seems to despise anything that focuses on her, including a camera lens, so I'm hoping a simple card written in my rudimentary Japanese will be good enough. I wish I could give her the gift of a connection with her oldest son again. I don't know if I can, but I've started the process of trying. I mailed a letter to what I hope to be my dad's current mailing address. If I get a response, the mix of emotions will most likely be a bit more complicated than the last bout. If it comes back to me, I'll try a slightly different address I found. If nothing happens...well, there are bound to be complex feelings there too.

Human Frequency

Well, I have to start by saying this; whoever told Ann about my blog, thanks! It was really great to read her last entry - it always surprises me how much faith she puts in our generation. I also need to thank Marie this morning. It has become clear to me in the past week that she is truly one of the strongest forces that makes Champlain feel like home, outside of my EMC family at least. The idea of losing me once and for all, which has of course been inevitable from the beginning, seemed to bring her to tears yesterday, and I came into the library this morning to find that she'd bought me a "bon voyage" present - an adorable Vera Bradley cosmetics bag and a wallet too! I only hope I can find something wonderful to bring back to her from my trip in return. Sometimes she just makes me feel like I have my own Burlington grandmother watching out for me, and it's so heartening to realize that someone I didn't know a few years ago could grow such a sense of pride and warmth in knowing me.

That said, there's something else on my mind that's been giving me seemingly unlimited energy lately. The realization came in part from something that happened on Monday. A little over a week before, I had applied for a passport. I was nervous that I wouldn't get it by August, and had no idea if I would even need it then. On that Monday, I was officially accepted to the UN project, and when I left work to check my mail, I found my passport waiting for me. I never expected both of those events to happen on the same day, and they felt somewhat perfect because they had.

I think to a certain extent, when two people come together, there is a similar chance for things to feel perfect, and I think it has a lot to do with each person's mentality and the atmosphere they create with their attitude. If you meet someone for the first time and you find yourselves in the same mindset, it feels like the chance for a great connection. If you continue to operate on the same wavelength over the course of time, you start to wonder how you never noticed the person or got along without them. And at that point, even if your brainwaves wander away from each other, it feels like the bond can never be broken, as long as both people are still affected by the feeling that a genuine link exists.

Beautiful friendships can blossom out of such feelings, but they don't always make it that far. Sometimes the feeling exists even when the opportunity to develop friendship is suspended, creating an even stranger sense that you've been thrown into a compelling state of interest and investment in someone you barely know. Sometimes the feeling swells for a moment and then dies away, leaving only a small sense of appreciation for someone else amid an otherwise perpetual state of tolerance or distanced behavior. And sometimes the feeling is offset by a distinct awareness of status-imbalance between the two people; I have yet to decide whether or not this makes the feeling weaker or...not stronger, but better.

There are most certainly a few people that have led me to this conclusion, but the thought extends up to a higher level as well. It has become my experience that some people shift their "human frequency" quite a bit, while others stay put on their one wavelength, cruising through life in a fixed state and only enjoying the company of those who conform to them or find themselves in the same static mentality. Is this the difference between extroverts and introverts? In years past, I had a distinct personality that was offered to everyone in the same form, taken or left for what it was. As I take on more projects, work with more people, do more things with my life in general, I think I've developed a more faceted personality. I know what parts of me have been tied to other people, and I know which parts of my nature would never show their face during certain experiences. I'm not a social butterfly, but I'd feel safe identifying with the social chameleon.

I think this is why I don't usually enjoy groups of people. One on one, you can be anything that the other person enjoys, values, or needs. With a sea of people, it feels good to just be yourself in the moment. But give me a handful of people, no less than 5 and no more than 50, and I'll try to empathize with each person until my brain can't handle it anymore.

Just something interesting that I've been dwelling on. I don't have any answer to what this means about people, I just see it as something that heavily influences human interaction, and I'm glad that I've learned to leap out of the one-wavelength rut and tune in to the people around me.

Whew.

Tonight, I return to my poorly attended blog after many events and emotional shifts. I've just completed my stint as RA for GIVIT, which turned out to be quite different from the experience last year. This time around, the kids were much better behaved, and they all seemed more positive about being there as a whole. The projects were much more polished, and I am proud to say that the girls I supervised at the end of the week had the most concise presentation.

One thing that threw me for a loop though was having to shift out of that role mid-week. I had been asked by Hope Martin and Shelley Richardson from the Office of Development to give a speech at the 50 Years on the Hill dinner for trustees, honorary trustees, and other honored guests. Turns out the past two presidents of the college were there as well as alumni from the college and other contributors from the past. Being a student that hopes to graduate in 2009, it was really cool to sit next to a couple that graduated from Champlain in 1959 and talk about all the things that have changed and what it was like when they were here. It was significantly less cool to have people come up to me and listen to me talk about the EMC for a little while and then suddenly say, "Oh, I recognize you from the alumni magazine, I knew you looked familiar!"

But anyway, speeching. I was under the impression that there would be a series of mini-speeches given by various students doing different things for the college at present. Dave Finney came up to me during dinner and asked to clarify his intro tidbits about me, and I was all set to go up after Professor Gary Scudder. I'd been practicing my speech all afternoon, nearly to the point of running my voice hoarse, and I was quite nervous about the fact that I was going to be the first student speaking...and that my three- to five-minute speech was looking more like ten to fifteen. I became even more nervous when Ann called me and told me she was going to be stopping in on the dinner to hear me, but when it came down to it, I did my thing. Or as much of my thing as can be applied to a speech, which felt a heck of a lot different than any presentation or question and answer session I've participated in with a mic clasped in my hands.

All in all, nerves aside, it was a huge success. The provost of the college started a standing ovation for me as I scurried along the wall and gave Ann a big hug. And apparently there was no string of student speakers; it was just me. Ann says she wishes that she'd gotten it on tape and every other person on campus keeps telling me what a great job I did, but I'm glad to have it in the past, just another check on the list of things I never thought I'd be doing when I first got to college. Next is going to South Africa to do research for the UN!

To move on to other matters, I'm taking careful notice of the fact that summer is officially half over. I feel like I've done a great deal and yet very little at the same time. I'm certain that I've spent too much money, and well aware that I've made little to no progress on plans for the upcoming school year. I just finished watching a somewhat abstract and highly philosophical movie called The Fountain, and it's shot my mind even farther into the future, blurring my view of things that are immediately before me and heavily require my attention. The only positive aspect of this far-flung pondering is that I've come to a sure realization: I'm still acting like a kid in far more realms of my life than I should be, no matter how well certain areas are developing. I gotta get my motor going on the parts of real life that I have yet to acknowledge.

But it's a little late to start tonight. So, I'll probably fall asleep thinking about bank accounts, passports, and driver licenses while wondering what purpose they will serve me in my life to come, and who else may join me on the way. Life is amazing. I can't wait for it to gather speed and take flight. I'm gonna be scared to the core of my being, but the best parts of life are those that aren't a sure thing.

Enough philosophizing for me. And probably for anyone else reading this. Hopefully I'll change it up a little whenever I write again.

Ho Hum

Another work week off to a slow start, and it's already half over!

I feel like I accomplished quite a bit today. Read a 60 page design document, gave my Info Lit team members an assignment to complete by the end of the week, and started a massive art asset list. Unpacked 283 books, took pictures of 75 or so, and started processing around 50. Attempted to diffuse a concern one of my team members has about another team member. Still at work until 10 doing the processing bit. This is my break for the day; when I go home, I only plan on reading a little before I succumb to the blankets.

I haven't been feeling very philosophical lately, but one thing that has begun to stick with me is a strange sense of comfort when I'm around other people, with little matter who they are. I've always imagined the people I know as having rope twined into my heart; those that know me better have thick ropes that twist deep to hold tight, while some ropes have been chopped off completely, leaving behind only the stump of a past friendship. Lately, I feel as if so many forces are anchored to me that I've somehow begun to lie suspended between all of them in a happy social stasis.

On the opposite side, one thing that seems to bring my feet back to the ground is the idea of a meaningless moment. With so many parts of my life feeling right and purposeful, those that I spend doing something mindless are painful; worst of all are the moments when I can't muster the brainpower to think of something good to do. It feels something like clawing at the sides of a deep hole and making the hole even more difficult to get out of in the process. Fortunately, those moments don't strike too often.

And on a completely random note unrelated to any of this, I miss listening to music. I used to exercise my creativity by listening to my music collection on random and adding the songs to playlists that were named as imaginitively and elaborately as possible; things like "Looking Up at Skyscrapers with Neon Signs at Sunset" or "Rowing a Boat Past Grassy Hills on a Painfully Bright Day." I rarely got more than one song onto a playlist, but it was absolutely delightful to me to be able to look at one of those descriptions at a later time and feel that exact feeling again on cue. Memories tied to music are powerful in a way that I don't understand, but it never stops me from completely adoring it and allowing it to carry me away.

A Language Tangent and a Subscriptions Budget

The weekend is off to a slow but steady start. Last night, I watched an Ang Lee movie entitled Lust, Caution. Everyone I know says that Chinese would be too difficult to learn or too hard to speak or that it's just plain ugly compared to similar Asian languages, especially when sung, but after watching the film, I think I disagree. In all fairness, the lead actress had a relatively soft and low voice, but her speech and singing alike were beautiful to me. It was interesting to see a portrayal of a Japanese tea house in one of the scenes, because I have often been impressed with the idea that Japanese culture is so much more graceful and peaceful - here, it was quite the opposite.

It was also strange to realize what few parts of the Chinese language are still drifting around in my head: wo (I/me), ni (you), ta (he/she, distinguished by the written character but pronounced the same), men (pluralizing suffix), shi (verb to be), bu (negative), ma (question), and of all things, gege (older brother) and didi (younger brother). I don't even have any brothers, so I've no idea why those stuck. There's also xiexie (Thank you), ni hao (Hello), and zaijian (Goodbye) for actual phrases, as well as meiguo (America) and zhongguo (China).

From every language I've been exposed to, there's one sentence or phrase that I keep in my head. For French: Je ne comprends pas. Parlez-vous anglais? (I don't understand. Do you speak English?) For Spanish: Hola. Como te llamas? (Hi. What's your name?) For Japanese: Ima, nanji desu ka? (What time is it right now?) For Latin: Semper ubi sub ubi (Gibberish that sounds like you're saying "Always wear underwear" when translated aloud). For German: Volkswagon (No translation needed, but they just say it funny). For Russian: da (yes). And Chinese: Wo shi meiguo ren. Ni shi bu shi zhongguo ren? (I'm American. Are you Chinese?) I'm not sure why these sentences have been tucked into my mind. Logically, they should all have to do with asking for help or getting the other person to speak my language in one way or another, but clearly it hasn't worked out that way. Some are from languages I never formally studied. Some are from encounters from people living in the culture from which the language comes. All have strong memories, both good and bad.

Today, I have been at work since the relative start of my day. I've spent the majority of my time attempting to come up with scenarios for Amanda's game. It's harder than you'd think to come up with situations for teens to ponder that would expose them to cultural or class differences without delving too far into morals. In essence, it is hard to create questions that do not have one right answer, at least on the count of 100. I will nevertheless persevere, because I am honored that Amanda asked me, and more so with each day. She truly is an admirable game developer, if only she would show it more often. I saw her yesterday with the board game Trouble tucked under her arm. Today, she told me that she had taken out the cardboard bottom to the game and redesigned it to be a game about oil use and how it effects the world. She's going to get it printed on cardboard soon, and I hope to see it when she's done. I'd never think to do something like that. I hope I'll be that smart in another 10-20 years.

The rest of the day will most likely be devoted to games and movies - ha! I hope to sneak in some reading outside before the clouds and dusk chase the sun away, but if I don't, I have a game that Amanda gave me for inspiration sitting on the desk beside me, I still need to finish playing the Myst series, and I just signed up for a Netflix account so I won't keep buying movies that I don't particularly want to see again. There's apparently an option to instantly watch movies on your computer in addition to those you receive in the mail: that's my kind of plan. I suspect this subscription, along with my music and video game ones, will take up my recreational budget for the summer. Fortunately, I should have a beta to try out in a month rather than paying for an MMO on top of this. Assuming no one drags me downtown for food too often, I think I have a solid basis for enjoying my months off from school to the fullest.

From Work to Warhammer, Wii, and The World...

I've been too tired to blog lately. It's a bit sad. Despite the fact that I only had to work one night this week, I feel as if my evenings have been remarkably full. Considering none of the nightly events were the same, I view this in a good light. However, I hope to get in some more time for thinking. Perhaps it will become a function of the weekend.

The project I've been working on is an interesting one. It's funny, but I feel as if being in charge of a group of people makes you realize where your own interests truly lie. Going into this project, I was ready to facilitate a massive brainstorming symphony for a few weeks before deciding on a game plan and moving ahead. I've loved collaboration in the past, and I figured that adding more people to the process would only make it better. This theory may still hold to be true, but it seems not to be the case with the individuals I've got my hands on. As long as they consult with each other in small groups, I'm relatively accepting of the situation, but even that has fallen to bits. I feel as if I've said this before, and it's very likely that I have.

The new development is that I have a designer on my team who is struggling terribly with the entire process. He lacks the communications skills to effectively offer criticism or make a point without attacking or insulting others, and he is incapable of expressing his own ideas in a succinct fashion that allows others to provide feedback. Whether out of frustration or as a normal mechanism, he has taken to asking me lists of questions regarding clarification of either the design of the project or the structure of the design document. Were I the lead designer on the project, I would gladly oblige and do my best to guide him. Given that I am a producer, and perhaps creative director at best, feelings have welled up within me geared towards distancing myself from the whole documentation process.

I feel more and more as if I would like to be a conceptual designer, if anything. I enjoy the bouncing around of ideas far too much, and the writing of elaborate stories and the minutia of mechanics nowhere near enough. Second to this desire is one to code. I'm coming out and saying it. As much as I love game concepts, I feel that anyone can have a steady hand in it if they can communicate properly. I would much rather have my hands in the network that runs it, if only I were better educated for it. Perhaps in the years to come, I'll manage to get that education somehow.

The moral of the story is that I'm still finding my place in the world, as I should be, and that I hope it does not come at the sacrifice of my team's cohesion and my love for cultivating ideas.

On an unrelated note, I've started measuring my laughter count for the week in bruises. It's becoming habit for me to be violently tickled into giggling fits, and I've rarely escaped without banging some part of my body against something unpleasantly hard, or simply suffering bruises from the intense act of tickling. The aftereffects are certainly unhealthy, but the remembrance of such a pure, spontaneous sound of joy is one that continues to warm my heart through the day. It's a good feeling to be forced to laugh when you'd rather sulk, though I enjoy the everyday laughter that fills my life voluntarily as well.

Continuing the chain of tangents, I've become re-excited about Warhammer Online, thanks to Wes and Mike. I don't foresee myself ever getting into an MMO hardcore, but the potential for group play and experimentation with a new system is appealing to me to an extent that few games have been able to entice me recently. Next on my rental list is Opoona, a Wii game that looks mildly unique, and The World Ends with You, a DS game inspired by modern Japanese culture. If anyone has any better suggestions, chime in!

The Power of a Promise

I can't say that I've often made promises to myself in life: never had any New Year's resolutions, didn't even make many promises to other people. I think I've always been so focused on helping others that I didn't realize I wasn't holding myself to high enough standards. Even doing well in school, I felt like I would be letting down my peers if I didn't have the answers, on the odd chance they were confused about one thing or another. In high school, the days when I forgot to do the homework were grave shocks. Once in my Latin class, when the teacher realized that no one had done the homework, he gave up and let us do whatever we wanted. I'm still sorry for that one...I love you, Mr. O!

But anyway, I've started dedicating myself a little bit to my own personal health, and it feels great. 350 calories burned before breakfast today, and I still had enough energy to dance around while I organized a few last things. In my creative writing blog, I've started picking up a thread of content, and it makes me feel pretty confident in my ability to weave a story, even though I'm doing it in an untraditional fashion and haven't been at it for very long. This is in part because of other people, though. When I post something online for anyone to see, even if I realize that next to no one is actually reading it, I feel more obligated to do it on a regular basis. But if the things I did in life weren't at least a little bit motivated by other people, I'd be more selfish than I'd like.

Sadly, I don't think I'll often have time to myself. I started doing scheduling calculations while brushing my teeth this morning, and I even got into the financial details when I first sat down to my computer. The challenge ahead of me will be to find the little things that make me feel good about myself. I've seen a few, like a random comment someone made that shows confidence in my ideas, but I'd like to find a personal source as well: something I can depend on no matter where I am. One thing I've picked up on is that I have a strong affinity for little knick-knacks and other objects that are seemingly useless. If I can find a way of "imbuing" some little thing with ideas of myself and self-appreciation, I'd probably be on a happier road. That sounds crazy, I realize this now that I've written it. I'll end there, but don't be surprised if you see me carrying around a tiny felt monster or something else of a similar nature. ;P

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning?

Whether I always was or always will be, I turn into a morning person during the summer even more than I am one during the school year. I almost woke up at 6:30 today. 6:30. On a Sunday. I've treated myself to "sleeping in" until 8, and now I feel alert and positive towards the day, despite the fact that I'm in a basement with two tiny windows and it's cold and rainy outside. I can deal with the rain because it make everything spring-related look lush and green. And I'd rather be a little chilly than on the warm side - I'll be sweating with morning exercise in a few minutes anyway. So all in all, hurray, it's a good day.

Technically, this is my last of two days for the summer in which I have no known work or responsibilities. It's a bit sad, but I plan on enjoying it thoroughly...somehow. Yesterday, after all the moving was done (I discovered that I'm in a spacious triple in the basement with one other roommate until June!), I found myself doing a whole lot of nothing: playing music off my computer and twirling around the room (which I stopped doing after people kept walking up behind me and scaring the living daylights out of me), laying down on my bed and staring out the window, reading, playing a few simple tunes on my keyboard, etc. I did a bit of visiting as well, but everyone with the exception of a few seemed out of sorts from trying to get their belongings together and most prone to simply tell me they'd be using my room as a hang-out spot. The level to which I was not out of sorts is something else I associate with my morning person style. I woke up at 6:30 yesterday to finish my packing, started moving at 10 and was done by 12:30, and finished unpacking around 6 at night. I think most people had finally chucked their last possessions into their room around that time. Go me.

Building off of a reflection from yesterday, I've come to the realization that I don't often evaluate people based on who they are; I look at how they react to other people. It's an interesting dynamic to observe, particularly in vastly different individuals. It was especially notable on moving day. One person had hardly unpacked a thing and was already wandering around the dorm, stopping into rooms to hold conversation and assist casually in other people's moving efforts. Others were scrambling to set up their computers as top priority, and remained half unpacked while setting up games to play. I set up my computer first just to have music while I did everything else, and I made the occasional ventures out of my room to take breaks from the basement monotony.

Even outside of the realm of moving though, I've taken a lot of notice lately of how a few other people conduct themselves: some good and some bad overall. I have a strong desire to take this train of thought a step further and discover the purpose and motives behind these actions, but I am aware of a few of them and unwilling to horn into other people's lives for the rest.

The Human Connection

I've started thinking a bit today about how humans use other humans. Some are very childish and selfish, essentially using their peers as toys. These people talk to others, but not in the sense that they are looking for good conversation or advice; they simply voice their thoughts, and because they recognize that humans are better than inanimate toys, they expect recognition of their declarations. This is where the appreciation of human life ends, however; there is no sense that they want to interact with other human beings on any deeper level. I wonder what people like this will do when their dolls get up out of the closet and move on with their lives.

Others seem to want other humans around for a sense of comfort and enjoyment, or nothing at all. I call these "teddy bear" people. They like to point out the cute or unique features of others, but they only do so if they feel entirely adored by those individuals. If others are not willing to hug and laugh and dance, actively and without any sense of concerted effort from the "teddy bear" person themselves, they are useless.

There are still others that I like to call "toolbox appointment" people. They want to know that someone who desires to spend time with them has both a purpose and a plan in mind. It doesn't matter if they want to see the person or not; if the purpose behind interaction is not made explicit, they feel as if they are wasting one person's or the other's time. This places a lot of responsibility on people like me, who often desire company for company's sake; the presence of other human beings is both calming and energizing to me, given different situations.

I'm not acknowledging much of this as right or wrong, and most people admittedly bridge the gap between different intentions for addressing other human beings. Additionally, the examples I've given are only a few of many that I can think of off the top of my head. I suppose it's just on my mind because I'm often concerned that I abuse my relationship with other people. I'm certainly not very mindful of the way in which I communicate. It's a problem.

What's in a Name?

Names seem to be an interesting topic lately. In our training today, we were asked to share the story of our names: why our parents chose them, what significance they may have. This was my little blurb:

My name is Lauren April. I suppose my mom and my dad chose to give me the middle name April because yes, I was born in April, but both of my parents were also born in April; My birthday is 20 days after my mom's and exactly 1 week after my dad's. While my sister was born at 10:10 on 12/12, my mom was 26 when I was born on the 26th; number repetition seems to be our thing, but that's a tangent. My first name doesn't seem to have any particular significance to my family. I know that I was going to be named Lanie, but because my grandparents have pronunciation issues, my parents didn't want them calling me "Rainy April." I think it would have been cute, but Lanie would have been far too cutesy a name for me. Despite the inner happiness I feel now, I've been weathered by a lot of teenage angst; as much as I would have loved to skip out on all of it, I think it's done a lot to bring me to the state I'm in today.

Last night, I also had a brief conversation with Wes about giving him a nifty Japanese name. It was a little thing, but I got into it quite a bit and stayed up until 1:30 reading common male names and sifting through the good ones. I did even more refining in the morning, leaving little time to prepare for the day. Having it on my mind, I found the training discussion amusing. As a note, here are some of the most interesting ones I came up with, accompanied by meanings:

Hideki: splendid opportunity
Hiroki: abundant joy/strength
Hotaka: step by step, derived from the name of the tallest mountain in the Japanese Alps
Kunio: countryman
Masaki: elegant tree
Masuyo: increase the world
Michio: man on the right path
Mikio: tree trunk man
Minori: beautiful harbor
Mitsuru: full, growing
Naoki: honest tree
Takumi: artisan
Tetsuya: become iron, clear evening
Tomio: treasured man
Toshio: alert, genius, valued man

Last names were a completely separate beast that I'd never thought much about before. I'd realized that surnames were most commonly comprised of two kanji, an adjective and a noun, or sometimes two nouns with one used to describe the other. Some of the cooler ones I found:

Nouns:
hama: beach
shima: island
to: gate
taki: waterfall

Adjectives:
taka: high
tomi: rich
naga: eternal
fuku: lucky

Nouns as Adjectives:
moto: origin
guchi: mouth, entry
kuma: bear
(I had to include kuma in honor of the Japanese class ^_^)

You can really make some wonderful names with these simple combinations. For example, Minori Takimoto would mean beautiful harbor at the origin of a waterfall. Pretty neat in my opinion. More food for thought. Tabete kudasai. (Eat it!)

Life and Love

I suspect this is one that people will want to skip over. It's also one of those things that I don't have the patience to bug other people about. So it's being dropped into this relatively safe space, left to float down onto the top of the pile and to be picked up by someone else whenever they so choose.

I mention love in the title, but love is a simpler thing than I think most people allow it to be. I have a twisted view of love, which to some people comes off as naive, but I don't think they see the whole. When I love someone, it is wholehearted and unfettered by anything else in my life; I love to the full capacity that I am capable of in relation to any given person at any point in time. Whether I'm in a relationship or wandering around the world alone, my affection for other human beings is unchanged. It would be naive of me to say that whoever ends up on top of my affection chart is the one that deserves my overtures and commitments.

There's a practicality to relationships that I can't escape. I have found it easy to love others more than I love the person I hold current commitments to. But that person has agreed to the relationship in a way that no one else has; I am able to be completely honest, to maintain my busy schedule and make time for interaction whenever I get the chance. I have even been able to shake the relationship down to its core, shatter its foundation and build it up anew. It takes a powerful agreement to leave that space open, to risk everything in the hope of making it better. I realize this is something that most people don't understand; if they do, they're very good at making me feel like I'm on my own here.

I've become very aware of how different my attitude towards other people is over the course of the past year. I will tell anyone anything about myself if they ask. I can love anyone for almost any reason if they request it of me. But I have a disgustingly rigid sense of morals, and once the alarm sounds, the offending individual goes into quarantine for life. Fortunately, few people have gained that kind of status in my mental prison of justice. Unfortunately, few people have asked for anything else.

On top of this, there are some ethical questions that appear to weigh more heavily in my mind than they do on average elsewhere. Can a relationship exist between professionals? More casually than that, what about a classmate that you lean on whenever possible? It's bad enough when a relationship ruins your personal life; should you give it the power to ruin your intellectual and career life as well? It was a heated topic today, and one that I remain relatively silent on. It's a case by case, in my opinion. I think I can safely say that I've only met one individual thus far that comes even close to being worth the risk. Even at that, I can see that there is no need to think of it at all. A topic better left untouched in the end, it would seem.

Backin' Up

So I began to share a bit of my life with someone last night, and in doing so I realized that I don't often do so. Rather than try to keep tabs on who knows about my life and who doesn't, I'll toss a little bit out there now. If you'd like to know, here goes. Else, skip away.

I was born in Flushing, Queens. If you don't know what that means, Queens is a burrough of New York City. I lived there with my mother, father, and sister through the end of first grade. My dad worked for Mitsubishi, spent his weeknights smoking and chattering away in Japanese in his office, and spent his weekends golfing or driving us into the city for dim sum and visits to Grandma Nobuko and Uncle Veda.

My mother did not have a job, though she volunteered as a teaching assistant at my elementary school once I entered first grade. We did not have a car and often walked everywhere; fortunately, we were only a block away from school. I often came home for lunch, and once luckily missed a shooting because of it.

The summer after first grade, my mother brought my sister and me up to New Hampshire to visit with my cousins. We did this every few years, but this time we never went back home. I last saw my house at age 7 without knowing that I'd never see it again; it's strange to think about now, I suppose. The change was quite a shocker. I went from having Yugoslavian landlords that felt like a kitten in the house was no different from a horse in the kitchen to having my closest neighbors halfway down the road with three collies, and my cousins gaining a cat every few months. School was not on the next block over but in the next town over. There was no longer a school festival to celebrate different ethnic backgrounds and cultures; instead, we toured the farms owned by students' parents to watch maple syrup boil down and to ride mules. Don't get me wrong - I love the country, but I'm a city girl on the inside for many more reasons. My mind blazes when I'm in a city that lights up around me, and my soul stirs with the shadows that rush across mountains in spring. My heart falls on the line, flip-flopping in the moment. Perhaps this is why my heart flip-flops on a lot of things, but that's another story for another time.

Going on, I never really talked to my dad after we moved so abruptly without him, though my parents were not officially divorced until I was in sixth grade. It's been odd to bear a name knowing that the culture it came from is one that I had exposure to only for a small fraction of my life. For a long time, I felt embarrassed even saying it. In the past year or so, I've met a lot of people that have helped me to embrace it, whether they realized it or not.

I'm not sure where I was going with this anymore. I've been distracted by the possibility of a new old civilization...that'll make sense to someone out there. =)

An Introduction to "Nishikawa"

I've never been one for putting thoughts on the Internet where others can view them. However, having recently swamped some of my friends and acquaintances with trivial thoughts and observations, I've deemed it time to shut my inbox and open my web browser. Hello, world. Welcome to my junk heap for discarded ideas. Sift through it at your leisure.

I've discovered many things about myself in the past year. One is that while I enjoy writing, I love expressing myself through artwork as well. I've always known that I will be a lifelong learner, but I'm starting to feel like a teacher too. In general, I love everything more than I ought to. I express emotion in a quiet but powerful manner that can reach, ensconce, and burn through anything (thus far). I adore other human beings, though I spend more time analyzing them than I ought to. I detest money and struggle with my persistent dreams of utopia.

I write this on an evening that does not feel particularly important. I have many things to do in the coming days, and little time to do them. My mind has been bursting with thoughts this week, and the weather almost hit 80 today for the first time in what I imagine has been well over half a year. Summer is upon me, seemingly earlier than usual. I put on a dress and shorts, slid into sandals, and felt like myself again for the first time in what I imagine has been well over half a year. A strange sentiment, in both its declaration and its truth.

Expect no rhyme or reason to my leavings in this space. They promise to be of varying lengths, touching upon all imaginable feelings. It's the way I work, and something that I hope can be appreciated by others. This is a testing ground. Feel free to add unforeseen factors to my experiment, if you do so with friendly intentions and a warm spirit.