Rough Day

I am my own person. I have a personality that is unique, and is no more influenced by others than anyone else's except in the fact that I am more open minded than many.

Why is this so hard to believe?

First, tonight, I was informed that I am gullible. Impressionable. Easily swayed by the will of others. I have no personality of my own, and I simply absorb the personalities of those around me. This will, inevitably, wind up with me becoming an apprentice to a serial killer, joining a cult, or killing myself when a man breaks up with me.

This was informed to me by my parents.

And then, when I sought validation that this was not the case from my significant other, I was informed that it was a "reasonable concern" on their part. In fact, said significant other in the past has expressed concerns about my lack of my own personality and the fact that I seem to simply become whatever those around me are.

I AM NOT GULLIBLE.

No, I don't have a unique fashion sense, so yes, I wear whatever people around me who I care about the opinion of tell me looks good. Want to know why? Because I DON'T CARE WHAT I LOOK LIKE, as long as I am not revealing too much for my personal comfort, I feel comfortable, and those around me consider me attractive. You know what else? I don't have a favorite color, really. I wear red because people tell me red looks good on me. So I say it's my favorite color because I wear it all the time. In truth, I don't give a shit what color I am wearing unless it is purple. I don't like purple.

So I'm not a fashion horse. I don't care if I express myself through my clothes. So what? I still want to look attractive, naturally, so I wear clothes that other people tell me look good. When I valued my mother's opinion on my appearance the most (read: no friends), I dressed as she wanted me to. When I valued my peers' opinion the most, I dressed as Vivacia wanted me to. Currently, the only person who I want to find me attractive is Ryter. So SURPRISE, I wear what Ryter says looks good. Do I have to have a fashion sense to be my own person?

And yeah, I listen to metal a lot now that I am dating him. I also still listen to country, and pop, and emo. Around him, I listen to metal most of the time because I don't want to subject him to music he doesn't like. I also listen to it on my own. Because he introduced me to metal. The truth is, I like music that has an effect on me. Metal has an effect on me emotionally. The music is emotional. For country and pop, the lyrics make me think, especially with story songs. For emo and some pop, I can't understand the lyrics anyway so I use it as background noise because it's not distracting. Different music serves different functions for me, just because I was introduced by someone in particular doesn't mean I am influenced by them, it means I share their taste in music.

My politics have always been my own. No influence there, at least not recently. Ryter and I disagree on McCain vs. Obama. He doesn't share the importance I put on sex education, science education, available and safe birth control and a reformed healthcare system. When it comes to politics, we have different priorities. I have different priorities from most people in my life.

And yes, I changed my career goal from "doctor" to "ecologist." Part of that was admittedly Ryter, in that I chose to become a doctor when I was convinced that no one would ever love me so it wouldn't matter that I wasn't going to be financially stable enough to have children until my eggs started to churn out clunkers. I have since realized that medicine is probably not the ideal career for me because I actually will be able to have children with a guy I love some day, and I'd like to do it before I am 30. In addition, it was pointed out to me that I don't handle stress well and I don't function well on very little sleep, and I'd like a career where stress on the job means a few weeks of studies get derailed instead of a person dies and then I lose my license because of malpractice.

Also, I hate willfully ignorant people. I'm not talking about people who have no access to education, that's not their fault and I can't hate them for that. I'm talking about people who are presented with evidence and ignore it or disparage it to fit their preconceived notions. I hate Creationists, and anti-vaccinationists, and HIV denialists. I hate anarchists and communists and fascists, and freegans and vegans (well, religious/moral vegans who don't try to pretend it's healthier or more natural are okay). I hate people who believe telling kids about birth control will make them have sex and people who believe kids who don't have sex education don't have sex. I hate people who think America has the best healthcare system in the world when that only applies to people who have good health insurance coverage, and everyone else gets screwed, resulting in our average life expectancy being lower than most developed nations (I will concede that for those with good insurance, it's probably the best you can get). I hate people who refuse to see reason under any circumstances because it contradicts what they want to believe.

This would not work well in medicine. I think I would stab a scapel into the heart of the first person I met who insisted vaccines were wrong while their toddler was in agony with pertussis. Not good for business.

This does not mean Ryter is controlling me. It means that I am learning who I am. Ryter doesn't care if a mother he doesn't know doesn't vaccinate their child. I do. It just happens that much of my self-discovery is coinciding with when I met Ryter.

I have a personality. I am both compassionate and passionate about causes I believe in. I am fiercely loyal to those who are loyal to me and I want to help everyone who cannot help themselves, and some who will not help themselves. I care intensely about the world around me and want to make a difference, and yet I know I am powerless in many ways, which disturbs me. I am silly and goofy at times, and angry at others. I am slow to warm up to people but will share anything once I am warmed up.

I like music that isn't rap, I like clothes that make me look beautiful to the man I love. I like dancing and singing, which I don't indulge in much for others' sake because I am not very good at either. I love to cook and love to see people appreciating food I have prepared for them. I love to learn about the medical world and read about the environment I would not do well in and yet can appreciate on an intellectual level. I like biological sciences and puzzles of biology and learning how the mind works. I like dark humor but not embarrassment humor, and I like good wordplay. I like technology and imagining the world of the future, I like anthropology and the history of human evolution, I like weird, rare languages and uncontacted peoples.

I like the outdoors. I like hiking and swimming and camping and skiing an riding horses on trail rides, but not in a ring. I like animals and plants and interesting fungi and stargazing and the process of forest decomposition and regrowth and encouraging life to grow on a petri dish, in a cage, in a garden, whatever. I like obscure and ugly animals and anything that lives it's life in the dark. I love viruses, as long as I don't have them.

I like to track diseases and find the patient zero and where they got it from, I like to rant about the way things should be versus the way they are versus the way they will be. I like drawing and sculpting and writing and attempting to recreate the images I see in my head for those around me, and for my own future reference. I like learning about religion and myth and why it exists and what it teaches us, and considering what my own beliefs are. And yes, I am a raunchy person and have my own likes and dislikes there too.

I don't like being around people that much, and I need a lot of down time to process everything around me. I don't like when people criticize my beliefs or try to correct me when I am not right or wrong, simply in disagreement. I don't like crowds or mosquitoes or taking pills every day, or unapplied math or sleeping in the heat or any time the air does not move. I don't like being interrupted, cut off, not allowed to finish a thought, not allowed to take a breath in conversation for fear of that being the case, or when people misinterpret my words, which happens often because I have a tendency to use words in a manner which is slightly unlike their normal use and not even realize it. I don't like roller coasters, horror movies, sudden movement in a quiet area or being touched by anyone I am not very comfortable with.

Not one of the above is influenced by Ryter, or anyone else for that matter.

I'm sorry, world, but I don't understand what the problem is. I don't see where I lack personality. I often change what ASPECTS of my personality I present to people, which is something I am actively attempting to change and which action I believe is what is leading people to believe I myself am changing. Well, no, I am not. I am simply showing you the real me instead of the custom-made-for-you me.

I can recognize when a person is attempting to control me and I will cut them out of my life as needed. I usually recognize it when they start to resent positive changes in my life and when they resent efforts on my part to reveal my true self to them. I can't really cut my parents out of my life yet. But I can still limit their exposure to me because they are a negative influence on my life. I know my parents want to control me, consciously or not, for a simple reason: They are resenting the changes in how much of me they see.

So please. Stop telling me that I have no personality of my own. I have one. I have likes and dislikes and values and priorities and they are all mine. I can recognize attempts to control me and circumvent them, except as regards my parents. No one's gonna talk me into smoking a joint, joining a cult, or eating human flesh and the fact that I have almost no friends outside Ryter has nothing to do with Ryter and everything to do with the fact that I am too shy to make friends or maintain a large social circle. I have almost always had one friend and built all other friendships off that, and right now, it's Ryter. Is it ideal? No. But it will not change any faster if I am living on or off campus, if I spend more or less time with him, or anything else. The only way that will change is if I can convince myself I care enough to change it. I don't care enough about it right now, I'm more concerned with school and my health and doing things I enjoy to change something which, while annoying, is not impacting my life except as a nagging "probably should get around to that" thought in the back of my head.

And if I am talking and talking and don't make sense, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, BE PATIENT. I have a point. But I don't think in words and phrases and I am trying to make connections between my brain and my mouth and convey how I am thinking, but if you interrupt me, you break my train of thought and then I can't finish it. I do have a point, I will get to it, but I do not have the communication skills needed to do so quickly. Please, just... be understanding.

Try it yourself!

I took an online career quiz at Career Cruising (username: nycareers and password: landmark) called the Career Matchmaker, and now I'm posting my results for what my career should be.

Bold: I like this option
*: Something I would be interested in doing-- my interest level varies from one star (might make a good summer job, temp job or last choice) to five stars (I am currently actively pursuing this job). My commentary on the other options is included.

My results:

1.Taxidermist-- AHHHHHHH!!!!
2.Nurse Practitioner
3.Acupuncturist
4.Dental Assistant
5.Massage Therapist*
6.Nurse
7.Librarian-well, not as a career
8.Tour Guide
9.Sign Maker
10.Mental Health Nurse
11.Anthropologist
12.Podiatrist
13.Hairstylist
14.Family Practitioner*****
15.Esthetician
16.Physician Assistant****
17.Plastic Surgeon-- what is up with all the beauty things?
18.Surgeon
19.Doctor*****--This is what I actually intend to do, of course.
20.Dermatologist-not really but they do pay amazingly well
21.Obstetrician-Gynecologist*****
22.Furniture Finisher
23.Picture Framer
24.Activist
25.Bicycle Mechanic
26.Writer***
27.Print Journalist
28.Political Aide
29.Translator
30.Musical Instrument Builder and Repairer-- uh, what?
31.Tailor / Dressmaker
32.Chiropractor**
33.Surgical Technologist
34.Dispatcher--again, not as a full-time career
35.Library Technician--see previous
36.Market Research Analyst
37.Upholsterer-- right.
38.Critic
39.Dentist
40.Orthodontist

Then I added more criteria, to make it a bit more precise. The results were much better.

1.Physician Assistant****
2.Family Practitioner*****
3.Nurse Practitioner
4.Dermatologist - money and a good schedule, I guess.
5.Doctor*****
6.Obstetrician-Gynecologist*****
7.Massage Therapist*
8.Acupuncturist
9.Cartoonist / Comic Illustrator
10.Naturopath
11.Taxidermist - NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
12.Social Worker
13.Mental Health Nurse
14.Podiatrist
15.Neurologist**
16.Surgeon
17.Plastic Surgeon
18.Chiropractor**
19.Anesthesiologist
20.Medical Illustrator****
21.Esthetician
22.Veterinarian
23.Writer***
24.Illustrator
25.Psychiatrist
26.Genetic Counselor***
27.Graphic Designer
28.Animator
29.Gerontologist
30.Gunsmith
31.Tour Guide
32.Artist*
33.Community Worker
34.Industrial Designer
35.Religious Worker - riiiiiiight.
36.Psychologist
37.Nursing Assistant
38.Interior Designer
39.Addictions Counselor
40.Midwife**

It looks like I would be okay with the careers I prefer. Also, alternatively, art seems to come up a lot. What do you think-- would I look good in all black with a beret and a cigarette and weird jewelry, bone thin as I murmur about the sublime use of shape and pick paint out of my nails?

The bone thin is because there's no way I could make money at that...

I went on a trip!

Fourth day of the Ludi Romani.

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Don't expect many Friday or Saturday entries in this blog this year; I went over to Ryter's on Friday night, and we made dinner together-- well, he did most of the work, I just cut up some veggies and chicken and stuck the rice in the rice cooker. He did the actual cooking-- a Japanese curry that was really good. Then we had ice cream sundaes, because the weather was in the nineties with ridiculous humidity. There was a slight disagreement as to whether they were "sprinkles" or "jimmies" but all was resolved.

We've decided to make this a weekly event-- we'll cook together, and make something neither of us has had before. Note to self-- no gazpacho.

Anyway, Saturday we went to Salem, Mass to see the Peabody Essex Museum, which was very cool. I've never been before, but it's a favorite of Ryter's. It was pretty cool-- lots of maritime art, especially figureheads from ships, but also a large collection of Asian and Native American art. One thing that I noticed was that in a display, there was a woman's shoe from the 1700s, clearly worn, and I thought to myself, I wonder what the woman who wore this shoe would have said had she heard that 250 years later, it would be on display in a museum for people to look at and marvel at how ridiculously small her feet must have been?

There was also a carved ivory tusk that impressed the hell out of me, it was so finely detailed with little people and animals (and made long enough ago that the ivory part doesn't bother me); and a wooden Indian altar that was just amazing. If you're ever in the area and get sick of the kitschy witch stuff, see the museum. No, see it regardless, it's way better than the witch museums.

Speaking of kitschy witch stuff, we walked around a little after we finished at the museums. We went to a couple wannabe-witch stores, the kinds with silver pentagrams and incense and crystal pendulums where you can get a palm reading in the back room. Ryter wanted to get his fortune told but it's Salem, witch central, so you know they charged ridiculous fees. We settled for looking around and getting a smoothie (me) and a celery-apple-carrot-whatever juice (Ryter) at a place that advertised "We have wheat grass!" and had fliers for various "spiritual mediums" and a "school of conjuration."

Then we wandered back to the car, and as we went we looked around; we passed through the Old Burying Point Cemetery, as I wanted to look at the gravestones, but then we realized that thanks to the placement of the paths we were walking on graves themselves and left post-haste. There's something inherently disrespectful about walking over a grave, even if the grave is so old that the remains are surely nothing but bones and even the headstone is crumbling and unreadable. Of course, nothing can top the disrespect that I saw when my high school English class went to Salem and were told to eat our lunches in the cemetery; bad enough that most of my classmates picnicked on the grass between the headstones (I forced my friends to eat on the edge of it, by a tree, so we weren't as blatantly disrespectful), but the chaperones perched on one of the above-ground tombs and used it as a picnic table.

Now, I don't think there's that much significance to a body after death but honestly. You do not use a tomb as a picnic table. Somebody put their loved one in there. That still irks me.

We headed back to Durham after that since Shrewd was bringing up various things I had forgotten (bathrobe, shower sandals, phone charger, etc-- all important things) and anyway, it was really, really hot and we were tired.

Fun times, though. Even though Salem is so very kitschy, the museum is nice and honestly, I like laughing at kitschy and spending no money on it.

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Cellamica was gone for the weekend so I had the room to myself for the day, which I spent doing my mountains of homework. Very boring. Got it all done though, which is all that matters.

"You have had a good start-- Work harder!"

Oh, man, Thursday was the start of one of my favorite series of Roman holidays and I totally missed it! Okay, so in order to understand these holidays you need to know about Attis. Luckily I have this lovely explanation that I wrote back in December: The Story of Attis.

Anyway. To honor Attis they had a festival, starting on the 22nd. On that day they cut down a tall pine tree and place an effigy of the god in it's branches. They brought it to the Temple of Cybele in a funeral procession and lay it down to rest like a body.

Then today, the Dies Sanguis, the pine tree and the effigy were buried in a tomb and there was a day of mourning, marked by fasting, sexual abstinence, self-flagellation (ow), and self mutilation (more ow). Then the High Priest, playing the part of Attis, cuts himself and offers it as a sacrifice. Initiates to the cult of Attis are baptized in the blood of a bull, then are brought into a state of ecstasy whereupon they castrate themselves.

Hmm... sounds mildly uncomfortable.

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Today was mostly devoted to studying and/or avoiding studying, mostly the latter. In this avoidance I was reading The Atheist Jew's blog, which gets a little preachy at times for me (yes, atheists can be preachy), but has some good lampooning of overzealous creationists, which is always fun.

I shouldn't say that, because Loquatia is totally going to the talk on Intelligent Design that is coming up fairly soon...

ID is strange. I used to think it was just saying that evolution happened and all just as science proves, but a higher power was driving it, which is what I believe. But then I learned about irreducible complexity and various other completely nonsensical parts of the argument and gave up on it.

Is it so hard to believe that science is true, but that there is also a god? An intelligent designer who is more of an artistic gardener than a sculptor or painter, who creates through making things grow over time rather than shaping them and then bestowing them with life? I think of the universe as God's bonsai tree. Start with a seed (a single atom), germinate the seed (make lots more atoms), nurture it and watch it grow and shape it as it does so so that the end result is what you were hoping for, or something just as good. Maybe I'm just reading the wrong things, but people always seem to think that evolution disproves the existence of a creator, because a creator isn't needed.

Science answers "How?" and religion answers "Why?". Two different questions. Why do people want to give them the same answer?

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Home Is Where The Humor Is

The Brother has a GIRLFRIEND!

Or, rather, a lady friend. Whom he is taking to see Blue Man Group for Christmas. This is good because it means we're all going- all the family. Yes, I am aware how odd it is that all the family is going on The Brother's date. But come on. It's BLUE MAN GROUP.

This lady friend was met through the band, it seems, and she is a SENIOR. This tells me two things: one, the brother likes older women, which makes me giggle. Two, the band is the ultimate source of significant others for high school students. Though I'm pretty sure Mistake's own dating history could have told me that. Heh.

The fact that she's a senior also means that The Brother might have to go to prom with her, a concept that makes me giggle almost as much as the fact that he likes older women. The only drawback is that despite the enormous amounts I was mocked for MY first significant other, we are not permitted to tease The Brother in any way, for fear that we will traumatize him sufficiently that he will not continue to date young ladies. This is a horrible fear of my mother's.

He's met her parents. They're going to the Symphony this Friday.

Insert uproarious laughter here, followed by silly dancing and raucous giggling.

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Anyway, today Daddy and I drove down to Brandeis to retrieve The Shrewd One, and I got to see her suite, which was pretty cool. She has a legit kitchen. These seniors and their fancy housing with cheap plaster walls.

Shrewd One in tow, we all drove to the T station and took the T to Fenway, from where we intended to walk to the Museum of Fine Arts. However, we wound up walking the complete opposite direction. Forty minutes later, we finally arrived at the Museum, for two hour's exploration of the European Masters and the American Art exhibits. I love the European Masters; "Automedon and the Horses of Achilles" by Henri Regnault is one of my favorites.

We ate an overpriced lunch at the museum; post MFA, and post a MUCH shorter walk back to the Fenway station (like ten minutes), we took the T back to the car and drove to Plymouth to pick up my grandfather. He, of course, had baked two pies for tomorrow. Grandpa always brings pie.

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The car ride how was less than comfortable, as I was crammed up in the front seat with it pushed all the way forward to accommodate my grandfather's long legs. Consequently, I started out in a ladylike knees-to-the-side pose and wound up in the slightly less ladylike feet-on-the-dashboard-knees-in-my-face pose. Oh well. I try. Or I'm trying, not sure which one it was.

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Once at home, we had a pretty simple evening; Bones wasn't on tonight, which made me sad. So The Shrewd One and I watched A Prairie Home Companion. Okay, POINTLESS movie. One good song, though: "Bad jokes, lord I love 'em, bad jokes, can't get enough of 'em..." Example: "Hey, Lefty, what do you get when you cross holy water with castor oil?" "What, Dusty?" "A religious movement!"

Still, I recommend skipping the actual movie and finding the clip of that song on YouTube or something.

Now, we're playing Sims 2 Nightlife. Which is WAY more engaging than this, sorry...