I always forget how much I enjoy living at my house - all the revelry and joy that I undoubtedly find there.
How the rosy haze of forgetfulness gently erased my mother's daylong ritualistic tirades I do not know. After all, they were such an integral, warm part of my childhood experiences. These wonderful gifts generally appeared first at about 6:45 am. Next came the excitement and anticipation as my mother proceeded to systematically accost and harangue every individual in the house in turns: Father, Gene, Katherine, and then herself oddly enough. I've always wondered if this routine and the order in which the purgation ensued were intentional or only subconscious. Did she feel she was just in allocating everyone their even share of mirth and glory in their fifteen minutes of fame - pragmatic in her dividing these said "doses" throughout the day? Or was it merely that she remembered something she forgot about Gene right after she momentarily finished with Robert?
In any event hearing her finish with one and move loudly on to another always filled me with a sort of cynical delight which would have been enjoyably entertaining, had it not been simultaneous with the bitter taste in my palate accompanying the cognizance that each shift brought my eminent doom closer and closer to actuality.
Representation- Had Wordsworth been a UCLA student the week of finals:
The quarter's at end
The night's at the morn
Morning's at 3:10,
Minds are dew-pearled.
Boredom on wings,
Life full of thorns.
God's been forgotten,
All's Hell in the world.
I have sold my soul to the demon of procrastination.
No more laughing,
No more singing,
No more writing,
No more thinking.
only laborious studying under the shackles of my own making.
i am in hell, otherwise referred to as the week before finals.
no more blogging until the process of purgation has ceased
until i emerge from the shadow of the valley of death
into the bright warm hope of spring break
And so farewell,
leave me to my misery katherine 4:28 PM
Friday, March 08, 2002
Yes, the only quizzes i proffer others are the ones that gratify my own ego.
This one I blatantly stole from someone's blog, and to further attest to my own filthy disposition, I give no credit to the fountainhead of this quiz.
She says "this is a real test given by the Human Relations Dept, at many major corporations" to gain insight into employees' dispositions, or something along those lines.
Don't cheat, keep track with some sort of writing utensil, then link to add up your points.
For your own (or my own) edification my score was a 47
You may begin:
1. When do you feel your best? (a) in the morning
(b) during the afternoon & early evening
(c) late at night
2. You usually walk (a) fairly fast, with long steps
(b) fairly fast, with short, quick steps
(c) less fast head up, looking the world in the face
(d) less fast, head down
(e) very slowly
3. When talking to people you (a) stand with your arms folded
(b) have your hands clasped
(c) have one or both your hands on your hips
(d) touch or push the person to whom you are talking
(e) play with your ear, touch your chin, or smooth your hair
4. When relaxing, you sit with (a) your knees bent with your legs neatly side by side
(b) your legs crossed
(c) your legs stretched out or straight
(d) one leg curled under you
5. When something really amuses you, react with (a) A big, appreciative laugh
(b) a laugh, but not a loud one
(c) a quiet chuckle
(d) a sheepish smile
6. When you go to a party or social gathering you. (a) make a loud entrance so everyone notices you
(b) make a quiet entrance, looking around for someone you know
(c) make the quietest entrance, trying to stay unnoticed
7. You're working very hard, concentrating hard, and you're interrupted. Do you: (a) welcome the break
(b) feel extremely irritated
(c) vary between these two extremes
8. Which of the following colors do you like most? (a) red or orange
(b) black
(c) yellow or light blue
(d) green
(e) dark blue or purple
(f) white
(g) brown or gray
9. When you are in bed at night, in those last few moments before going to sleep, you lie: (a) stretched out on your back
(b) stretched out face down on your stomach
(c) on your side, slightly curled
(d) with your head on one arm
(e) with your head under the covers
10. You often dream that you are (a) falling
(b) fighting or struggling
(c) searching for something or somebody
(d) flying or floating
(e) you usually have dreamless sleep
(f) your dreams are always pleasant
Add your score and dive into your inner personality here Give yourself a false sense of importance by adding your score to the comment box.
side note: if you see something you like, if you see something you don't like, if you just want to say my blog smells like moldy goat cheese...DO.
JUST WRITE SOMETHING IN THE COMMENT BOXES TO LET ME KNOW YOU'VE BEEN HERE katherine 4:22 PM
Thursday, March 07, 2002
altruismn : unselfish interest in the welfare of others.
And now for your evolutionary lesson for the day kids:
There is no true altruism. By definition it requires putting oneself at risk in order to benefit another: disregarding one's own likelihood of survival to increase a conspecific's likelihood of survival. Such a thing inherently goes against all rules of natural selection, therefore it is impossible for altruism to evolve. Dr. Fessler spent an entire lecture about a month ago tracing all the hidden motivations, all the hidden rewards of helping others.
The gain for aiding kin is something called inclusive fitness. By helping those who share the same genetic data, the ego ensures the proliferation of his genetic material. Thus familial altruism can evolve only if the cost to ego is less than the beneficiary's degree of relatedness to ego (how much genetic code they share) multiplied by their benefit.
(C < r * B)
As for those not related to the ego, evolution favors altruism only if the following criterion is met:
1.) Ego and beneficiary meet often.
2.) Ego can be sure beneficiary will reciprocate if occasion arises.
3.) Ego has the power to determine his form of action based upon rules 1 & 2.
In conclusion, behind every seemingly altruistic action is the clandestine motivation of preservation of self.
Just makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, hmmm?
Why do you care? Ha, you've forgotten: it doesn't matter if you care, because I hold all power on this site. Yet I do relate this information with some ultimate goal in mind and here it comes. Prepare yourself.
I'm discussing this with mother last week when I visited home, posing my own question: How is social security, or all the care given to the elderly, favored by evolution since the elderly have no likelihood of further reproduction? I ask the question merely to further explore the many nuances of evolution.
Mother misunderstands and says something to indicate that not everything they teach you in college is completely accurate; something about how evolution is not a theory the Christian man holds as truth.
Perhaps I'm too ignorant to possess an opinion about such things, but I've never seen something terribly blasphemous in science.
Why can't we reconcile Science and Religion?
Genesis 2:7the Lord god formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living thing.
Genesis 1:27God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them.
Who's to say that as God's formation of man took a finite period of time? Perhaps he stands even now working with the clay of mankind, ever molding it into the perfected image of his eternal glory.
I have nothing to blog, I just need to see if my new links showed up. Sorry to disappoint. katherine 11:55 PM
Tuesday, March 05, 2002
Hence, horrible villain, or I'll spurn thine eyes like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head, Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd'in brine, smarting in lingering pickle. Taken from: Antony and Cleopatra
Gene and I would go alone down to the river. Throughout our childhood we always had a band of about 10 friends around us: piled in front of the TV, spray-painting the backyard tree house, slipping in the midst of a mud battle, sleeping (arms and legs jutting out everywhere) in the garage “clubhouse.” But we went together to the river, just us two, brother and sister. How tickled we were when we first went without mother, experiencing total explorative freedom. We called it “the river” because we had never seen a real river before, and this place embodied all the magic, beauty and danger a river conjured up in our youthful minds. It was a long walk for children but one filled with excitement and anticipation.
A day spent at the river was a day with limitless possibilities.
It required equipment; you simply couldn’t go on such a taxing excursion without supplies. Jars, backpacks, band-aids (mother’s influence), and provisions - peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, oranges, Kool-Aid and anything else that we could carry in our hands climbing down the rocks to the river.
I was so proud of myself the first time I made it down. The rocks could be so steep and Gene always shouted that he saw spiders. I never saw any, but I was sure they were there, hiding, waiting for me to show an exposed area of ankle. Sometimes a rock wouldn’t be cemented in properly: this always resulted in the coveted scraped knee. I both feared and longed for such a trophy. Scraped knees were quite the item in grammar school. A scraped knee guaranteed a large audience in the cafeteria and much sympathy from teachers. It also promised a lovely weapon when it began to heal - causing both disgust and admiration in classmates. Puss is fascinating to a fourth grader.
Once down within the heart of the river the smell of algae under the sun’s hot eye intoxicated me, as I felt myself too heated by the warm sun. If the water ran low, Gene and I would skip stones to the center of the river and look for tadpoles.
A few months after our mother allowed us to go alone to the river we grew obsessed with the possibilities of tadpoles. Soon we had established a rather lucrative tadpole business. Squatting on large rocks, gazing in the shallow waters, we observed before acting. The slimy water felt so cool and silky on our hot fingers. Within minutes we placed the large jars full of tiny creatures swimming in murky waters in our bags. Frogs, on the other hand, were much more difficult to procure, therefore their price on the neighborhood market was substantially higher than that of tadpoles. Gene and I would search for hours in the shaded, secluded areas or the river, in pursuit of the ever-allusive frog. Four frogs indicated a very productive day. Lizards were much easier to find, yet they were the most expensive. The danger elevated the price. Sometimes Gene and I would wrap bad-aids around our fingers before taking up a lizard... yet our wrists then suffered the brunt of the biting. We designed special lizard leashes, looping the strongest part of the long grass that grew on the riverbanks to form a crude lasso of sorts.
After a full afternoon of hunting Gene and I would sit on the projecting rocks on the side of the river and feast on our packed snacks, the breeze of the early evening cooling our hot skin. We wouldn’t speak during these meals; we sat in silent companionship, satisfied with the day’s feats. As the sun began it’s descent we would gather our acquisitions and begin the journey back, climbing back up the rocks with hands sticky from jelly and algae: the ending to a day of wonders.
…
Now, looking over the side of the First Street traffic bridge down into the Simi Valley Wash I laugh at how the naiveté and innocence of a child transforms a gutter runoff way to a wonderland. But then I sigh: when did the wonderland change into the sewer it is today?
