It's spring. The trees around Jesse and Memorial are breaking into tiny red flowers, and the Magnolia buds are swollen and fuzzy-soft. Some days it rains and the wind blows sideways and it's cold. Other days it's sunny and warmish and delightfully breezy.
Nash and I hike up the cliffs by the quarry at dusk, drinking mango juice from Taj Emporium. We walk here and there through the night, hit Noodles and then Starbucks, each right at closing. Then it's two a.m...
The next morning I can sleep in, so I finally slink over to Anthro-Religion right at 12:30, soaking wet and not looking forward to standing outside in it for an hour, but when I do, after class, it's not so bad - the giant apple costume is surprisingly well insulated, especially over my coat, and we sing and dance to get more money and stay warm. The peapod makes up a song and it isn't very good.
I go home for a minute, write up something quick about our field trips to the Missourian newsroom and the KOMU broadcast studio. Then I run over to News class and turn that in and we have to do some spot deadline writing for a fake news conference and then have a few minutes to plan our convergence project. My group is going to do sexting.
I run over to Mark Twain. News class went full time, unusually, so I'm a bit late to eat dinner with Zahra, (British) Laura, Yuki, and Palak. I have to leave, early, too, because I'm covering an easter egg hunt for News. I run back to South to drop off my schoolbooks and grab my keys, and end up helping Tina and Pelumi troubleshoot for their art event. I stay for and photograph the first few minutes of it, then I run out to the parking lot and head for Stephen's Lake.
I drive into the park and reach a parking lot at a dead end. I see the group assembled for the hunt - a quarter mile up the hill and across a bit of a drainage marsh. I'm just barely on time, so I cut my losses and park, working my way across the puddles and then up the hill. I realize after a moment that I'm walking through the hunting fields - brightly coloured eggs are scattered here and there. I suddenly worry that someone's going to accuse me of stealing the candy or something. They don't. Then I think a little bit longer about how random it is that I'm walking into the event from across the park, and it's all little kids and I'm showing no identification as a Journalism student or anything else and I feel grateful that I'm a woman so no one's likely to accuse me of pedophilia (coincidentally this immunity reminds me of a conversation I had with Liisa one time. :P) Its a flashlight egg hunt so by God everyone's brought a flash light and when the first wave is set out at 7:30 it's not dark enough that the lights can really be seen much less useful, but still all the mommy's and daddy's show their toddlers how the flashlights work and ask them not to shine them in the other kids' eyes...
Back at South, Tina's event is still going on so I sit and draw with Tina and Amanda and Tina's professor friend. There's hummus leftover and Tina wants to eat it with me and I say we really need some sort of bread so we discuss the possibility of making a pita run and then Tina gets this funny look in her eyes and says, "Let's go to a park and eat hummus and pita." And then she says, "Do you want to invite Sam Kennedy?" And Sam's a friend of Tina's friend and we've eaten lunch with him a few times and I say, "Yeah, yeah I do." So we call Sam up on the phone and tell him to dress warmly and high-tail it over to South and when he gets to Tina's room we blindfold him and lead him out to the car and throw him in the backseat with all the sleds and stuff. We drive to Hyvee and buy Pita and some chocolate and then further to Rock Bridge, specifically a trail that's supposed to be closed after dark but rather notably isn't, the gate is wide open so we drive in and sit at a picnic table at eat hummus and pita, like we planned. We can see a lot of stars from there and also the moon and we take a little walk because Tina apparently for all of her nature worship has never been to Rockbridge. And Sam and I argue about which direction to go and I tell Sam he's an idiot because the path goes around in a circle and we play by a waterfall under the moonlight and and there are bats everywhere down by the cave and when we start walking back to the car Sam says something silly about Sign-Bears and I say something silly about Totemism and Tina is ashamed of both of us.
We go home to South and Tina has to study so Sam and I play Super Smash Brothers for a couple hours. And then I sleep...
Spanish class, then more Local Food and Local People and in the morning it's cold wet and windy and I shiver in the Apple again and then two other volunteers start a little band, they're reasonably talented and as the sun starts coming out they don the peapod and the apple and a guitar and sing...
"Hello, my name is Peabody and I was grown here locally..."
The song is surprisingly good but I've already forgotten most of it, all I can say is that Tina has some creative and talented friends...
I have to leave for Catalan, but afterward I find myself drawn back to take pictures of the little red flowers in front of the Memorial tower, and before I know it I'm sitting in the sun with Tina and she is the Spinach fairy and I am a farmer and we are talking to Satoshi and one of his friends about Mt. Misen, the aquarium on Miyajima, and what Tina is on to be so passionate about Local Food and Local People.
Then I walk with Palak, a rather long way, send a package to distant Liisa which she'll recieve when she returns from Nepal. And Palak and I talk about life and love and the way emotions flicker, bend, and yet endure across cyberspace; she has her sad stories and I can be there for her in a way that's unusual, so I am, and Palak climbs into Flatbranch cave against her better judgement, thanks to my evil influence.
I meet Nash for dinner at Dobbs, he's heading back to St. Louis and I have to do Health and Safety Checks at South. Kevin and I and then Pelumi, too, we take the third floor and get done in relatively decent time but of course there are a few problem rooms and somehow I end up helping Miguel get those sorted out, including climbing up a bunkbed to remove a pair of flannel pants that someone had artfully pinned up around their smoke detector, not suspicious at all... ;)
By then I'm a bit late, I'd agreed to meet Satoshi and his friend Yasu and our friends Sara and Jenny. I'm tired and don't feel like going out, but they moved the whole event from a bar to Shakespeare's for me, because I'm underage, so I felt an obligation and anyway tomorrow is break so I can sleep then or when I'm dead, whichever.
By the time I drive over to Shakespeare's I'm feeling a lot better, it's weird huh? Almost like I'm turning into an extrovert or something. Sara and Jenny couldn't come but I feel surprisingly chill about being there with Satoshi and a bunch of essentially strangers. Our main group is Satoshi, Yasu, and an American named Matt. Some other Americans come in for a while and then leave. All the Americans seem to be from Chesterfield, close to my hometown, which is amusing. A Thai guy also comes, this guy I know - his name is Dong and he calls me Mirandong and I'm not 100% why. After a moment everyone (Satoshi, Yasu, Matt, and Dong) decide to go out and play pool, and I figure what the hell, my flights not until noon... so I come along too.
I haven't played pool for maybe 8 years and I'm not very good to say the least, but only Yasu's really decent so it's all relative I guess. Matt and I are on a team and at some point between games Satoshi sort of corners me and asks if I have a boyfriend. He says it too casually for it to be about himself, plus he's quite a bit older than me, so I'm wondering what's going on and waiting patiently for that to unfold itself. And afterwards Satoshi and Matt are having a bit of a conversation and the tone makes me even more suspicious, but again I decide to wait and see...
When the Billiards hall closes, the Asians head off to a bar and Matt and I decide to go home. My cars still over by Shakespeare's, and it's late, so Matt walks me over there and we talk. And right as we get to the car his voice changes and he asks me if I'd like to get together sometime and get to know each other. I say, sure, add me on Facebook, we'll talk after break... and I get in the car and drive home and pack my bags and go to sleep.
March 26, 2010
March 22, 2010
More Than a Mood
It's been a while now that I've really only been experiencing two moods - stressed and happy. Even the stress - most of it is Eustress. After all, in the last week, I've gone on a fancy and professional-like trip to Kansas City, ate dinner with a bunch of legitimate travel journalists, pulled off my first interview, helped organize and serve in two service projects (one of them was basically my baby), held a relatively good event here at South, helped mediate roommate conflicts, called 911 and dealt with that whole scene, and run around like one of the Local-Food-For-Local-People vegetables getting recommendations and advising appointments.
Mostly, I just feel happy - eager and full of bright energy, almost as if I can see it emanating from my skin. At a party on Friday, I felt so at ease, talking to everyone - switching easily from English to Spanish to German and even to bits of Norwegian and Italian and not feeling any shame or nerves, somehow. (And no, I didn't have a drink. ;))
The tiniest things are bringing me to my knees with their beauty. I mean - even a leaf, a few pine needles against the sky - and half the time not even reverting to viewing them as miniatures. Everything's lovely, everything...
And I feel just so grateful and content, lucky that I have sharp eyes and good ears and soft skin and strong legs to stand on. I feel confident, powerful. There's a certain cockiness in my voice that I haven't heard there since high school. And yet other times I feel polite, sweet, and appropriate - without feeling that I'm playing a role.
I'm scared about study abroad, of course, but it's the kind of fear that sends goosebumps down my arms and puts a slow, wicked sort of grin on my face. After all, if I can't do it, who can?
I need new clothes. I'm sick of wearing the same shirts again and again, I'm sick of all the ones from high school. I need new shoes. I've got to compromise for the sake of my feet, but maybe some black tennis shoes at least. And some non-tennis shoes that I can properly walk in. In a dark and neutral colour. No more white. That won't fly, not in Spain.
We're breaking through a little bit in Catalan, starting to feel the way it shifts from Spanish, like Italian... starting to get a handle on it... and in Journalism too, we're finally doing content, I'm finally not only paying attention but riveted. They've exhausted their thesaurus' entry on Plagiarism at last and are talking about different ways to communicate - not only written, but also visual - graphs, charts, list.... what's interesting, what communicates... because that's the point!
And I'm understanding, that it's all about the stories, the stories! And the feelings! And coincidentally I can do that. I can tell stories. Just have to push myself and not hide behind what's easiest. Academia is interesting and I'm good at that, but maybe too good. I can push myself but only though, there, not out and into anything, no surprises, nothing new... And my affair with books, with dust, with the darkest corners of the library - it's loosening it's control on me, somehow. I haven't forgotten it's attraction, but...
There's the whole world to see. It's every colour every smell every sound and it's real and I want to be out there in it. No more dark and gothic Elindomiel, no more spritely and cute Ellie or Mira-chan, either. I've no excuse whatsoever for sorrow, and I don't wish to be cartoonised. I'll be Miranda, all warm flesh tones, running as fast as I can and laughing too, experiencing the wonders of the world with every sense, and nevermind the ones who tell me this part or that is uninteresting or ugly, what do they know? Miniaturize, shoot up the contrast or the saturation in your minds eye, and soon you no longer need to, I think, to see what's wonderful in every place at every time. If they insist, I'll even stop and photograph it, write about it, so that someone else can feel it too, maybe, that life isn't a ticking clock but a drum beat.
Mostly, I just feel happy - eager and full of bright energy, almost as if I can see it emanating from my skin. At a party on Friday, I felt so at ease, talking to everyone - switching easily from English to Spanish to German and even to bits of Norwegian and Italian and not feeling any shame or nerves, somehow. (And no, I didn't have a drink. ;))
The tiniest things are bringing me to my knees with their beauty. I mean - even a leaf, a few pine needles against the sky - and half the time not even reverting to viewing them as miniatures. Everything's lovely, everything...
And I feel just so grateful and content, lucky that I have sharp eyes and good ears and soft skin and strong legs to stand on. I feel confident, powerful. There's a certain cockiness in my voice that I haven't heard there since high school. And yet other times I feel polite, sweet, and appropriate - without feeling that I'm playing a role.
I'm scared about study abroad, of course, but it's the kind of fear that sends goosebumps down my arms and puts a slow, wicked sort of grin on my face. After all, if I can't do it, who can?
I need new clothes. I'm sick of wearing the same shirts again and again, I'm sick of all the ones from high school. I need new shoes. I've got to compromise for the sake of my feet, but maybe some black tennis shoes at least. And some non-tennis shoes that I can properly walk in. In a dark and neutral colour. No more white. That won't fly, not in Spain.
We're breaking through a little bit in Catalan, starting to feel the way it shifts from Spanish, like Italian... starting to get a handle on it... and in Journalism too, we're finally doing content, I'm finally not only paying attention but riveted. They've exhausted their thesaurus' entry on Plagiarism at last and are talking about different ways to communicate - not only written, but also visual - graphs, charts, list.... what's interesting, what communicates... because that's the point!
And I'm understanding, that it's all about the stories, the stories! And the feelings! And coincidentally I can do that. I can tell stories. Just have to push myself and not hide behind what's easiest. Academia is interesting and I'm good at that, but maybe too good. I can push myself but only though, there, not out and into anything, no surprises, nothing new... And my affair with books, with dust, with the darkest corners of the library - it's loosening it's control on me, somehow. I haven't forgotten it's attraction, but...
There's the whole world to see. It's every colour every smell every sound and it's real and I want to be out there in it. No more dark and gothic Elindomiel, no more spritely and cute Ellie or Mira-chan, either. I've no excuse whatsoever for sorrow, and I don't wish to be cartoonised. I'll be Miranda, all warm flesh tones, running as fast as I can and laughing too, experiencing the wonders of the world with every sense, and nevermind the ones who tell me this part or that is uninteresting or ugly, what do they know? Miniaturize, shoot up the contrast or the saturation in your minds eye, and soon you no longer need to, I think, to see what's wonderful in every place at every time. If they insist, I'll even stop and photograph it, write about it, so that someone else can feel it too, maybe, that life isn't a ticking clock but a drum beat.
March 20, 2010
Too Much Stuff
It's supposed to be the first day of Spring, but it's the coldest day in two weeks and it's snowing like crazy outside of my window. Oh, Missouri... I'm cooped up in doors, on call tonight and tomorrow night and without any good reason to leave the building during the days, either.
I'm thinking about how I need to try to get days off of work for a Journalism conference that's coming up, how I have WAY too much stuff going on in News Class for a 3 hour class, (No idea how I'm going to get a tour of KOMU since the only possible times are during my weekly staff meetings), how I need to fill out a ton of paperwork for study abroad, how I need to spend spring break in the dentists office or else working on my two big papers, etc, usw, osv...
I'm going to start by giving my room a good cleaning. It helps me to clear my mind and feel less overwhelmed, and it won't even take too long. Honestly I'm sick of all of it. My stuff, I mean. It's a horrible paradox actually. I want less stuff, I want to be organized and have everything in it's place. Not have duplicates, not have things I never use. But at the same time I always want new things. I've been thinking that I want a bicycle. I'm not going to get one because next year I'll be away. But I want one. And I need new clothes - I'm so sick of the shirts that I have now. When did -that- happen?
But I eagerly, happily think of when I'm travelling, when I've got my suitcase and these things, and I'm in a new place every day so no one cars if I wear 'that shirt' again and even twice in the same week, I know what things I have, and if something is not carrying it's weight, I get rid of it... if I desperately need something else, I buy it. And I love that feeling, that I own my stuff, can handle it all, carry it around. I love feeling free and mobile... and not so materialistic.
I'm thinking about how I need to try to get days off of work for a Journalism conference that's coming up, how I have WAY too much stuff going on in News Class for a 3 hour class, (No idea how I'm going to get a tour of KOMU since the only possible times are during my weekly staff meetings), how I need to fill out a ton of paperwork for study abroad, how I need to spend spring break in the dentists office or else working on my two big papers, etc, usw, osv...
I'm going to start by giving my room a good cleaning. It helps me to clear my mind and feel less overwhelmed, and it won't even take too long. Honestly I'm sick of all of it. My stuff, I mean. It's a horrible paradox actually. I want less stuff, I want to be organized and have everything in it's place. Not have duplicates, not have things I never use. But at the same time I always want new things. I've been thinking that I want a bicycle. I'm not going to get one because next year I'll be away. But I want one. And I need new clothes - I'm so sick of the shirts that I have now. When did -that- happen?
But I eagerly, happily think of when I'm travelling, when I've got my suitcase and these things, and I'm in a new place every day so no one cars if I wear 'that shirt' again and even twice in the same week, I know what things I have, and if something is not carrying it's weight, I get rid of it... if I desperately need something else, I buy it. And I love that feeling, that I own my stuff, can handle it all, carry it around. I love feeling free and mobile... and not so materialistic.
March 19, 2010
Busy, Busy, Busy
Two friends had their birthday parties this week. My E.I. for the semester is on Monday. I've been trying to organize AMG's volunteer week at Hickman High School. News Class is bogging me down in tons of work and obligations. I'm trying to get paperwork for study abroad figured out. Oh, and I somehow ended up signing up to be a captain for the food drive on Friday. Go me. :) Luckily classes haven't been too bad this week or I'm not sure I'd be able to cope. As it is I'm treading water, and only regretting that I can't spend a bit more time enjoying the weather.
Uni's Spanish is progressing nicely! By the time he leaves Spain I think we'll be able to have conversations. He's hard on himself but he's really doing well. Today I taught him my secret for past tense, since he hasn't learned it yet and I remember how frustrating it was to be forced to live only in the present. ;) (The secret is to use the pluperfect... haber conocido, etc, forms. Not 100% accurate, but gets the point across better than saying conozco ayer or something.)
Uni's Spanish is progressing nicely! By the time he leaves Spain I think we'll be able to have conversations. He's hard on himself but he's really doing well. Today I taught him my secret for past tense, since he hasn't learned it yet and I remember how frustrating it was to be forced to live only in the present. ;) (The secret is to use the pluperfect... haber conocido, etc, forms. Not 100% accurate, but gets the point across better than saying conozco ayer or something.)
March 16, 2010
Suddenly Spring
Spring happens so fast. It catches me by surprise every year.
The grass is suddenly green. Yesterday, it was that yellow colour, which looks dead and disturbing after October's first frosts, but by the end of February seems to me golden, lovely, something like straw, a bit of warmth in a world of cool greys. And suddenly it's green, in some places more than others, and you find yourself blinking at a patch several times, wondering why it's drawing your attention, what's different about it, until you remember the apple flashing from grey to red in The Giver and remember. Colour. Spring. Life.
The ground is so soft. Mud reappears where there was ice all winter. Last week old, dry and freezer-burnt mulch crunched under foot, now they are spreading new mulch, mahogany coloured or as dark as soy sauce, with a rich strong smell that makes me want to put my hands through it, dig and breathe in the energy of the plant life.
In the shade of one of the parking garages, the one by the hospital that I pass on the way to most of my classes, there has been a snow pile all winter. It was taller than I was and lingered from one snowfall to the next, protected by the deep shadows in that corner. It was there as of this afternoon - now approximately one foot tall, with a big wet ring of earth around it, marking it's previous diameter. I think it's the last snow left on campus, and with it goes this winter.
Time goes by so quickly...
I miss Winter, but I'm still glad it's Spring. ^^
The grass is suddenly green. Yesterday, it was that yellow colour, which looks dead and disturbing after October's first frosts, but by the end of February seems to me golden, lovely, something like straw, a bit of warmth in a world of cool greys. And suddenly it's green, in some places more than others, and you find yourself blinking at a patch several times, wondering why it's drawing your attention, what's different about it, until you remember the apple flashing from grey to red in The Giver and remember. Colour. Spring. Life.
The ground is so soft. Mud reappears where there was ice all winter. Last week old, dry and freezer-burnt mulch crunched under foot, now they are spreading new mulch, mahogany coloured or as dark as soy sauce, with a rich strong smell that makes me want to put my hands through it, dig and breathe in the energy of the plant life.
In the shade of one of the parking garages, the one by the hospital that I pass on the way to most of my classes, there has been a snow pile all winter. It was taller than I was and lingered from one snowfall to the next, protected by the deep shadows in that corner. It was there as of this afternoon - now approximately one foot tall, with a big wet ring of earth around it, marking it's previous diameter. I think it's the last snow left on campus, and with it goes this winter.
Time goes by so quickly...
I miss Winter, but I'm still glad it's Spring. ^^
Too Much Change.
Okay, so Facebook changes all the time and I hate it for that. But that's what it does, and although I'm at a sort of constant low boil about it, I've accepted it to the point where I rarely even complain anymore.
But lately, Facebook isn't the only website that's been changing a lot and seriously throwing me off. A few times recently, I've been trying to Google Image Search and it sends me into Google Image Swirl, which I can image is useful for a few limited applications, but generally is a DO NOT LIKE, because you have to click on an image about 4 times to get it to open up all the way. Google has also been doing some weird things with sidebars that are supposed to be advanced search options or something, but are just making the website harder to use with my smaller Toshiba screen.
And Youtube??? What was wrong with the old Youtube? Instead of rating videos, we now "like" and "dislike" them. "Like" and "dislike" are just so gut reactions and simplistic. Appropriate for Lolcats, maybe, where something is pretty much funny, or not. But Youtube videos (can) have different layers of depth and different components, and very often merit a tiny bit more thought into their ratings. I also don't like it that the info is now below the video, and less is displayed by default than before.
But most of all, what makes me mad is just that these things change, so quickly and randomly, and with so little thought given to the user's preferences. Yes, I realize that these are all free services I'm criticizing. If you told me that they were making a change to save money or even get more profit from advertising, I could respect that. I wouldn't be happy, of course, but I would respect it. But some of the changes just seem totally random and meaningless!
But lately, Facebook isn't the only website that's been changing a lot and seriously throwing me off. A few times recently, I've been trying to Google Image Search and it sends me into Google Image Swirl, which I can image is useful for a few limited applications, but generally is a DO NOT LIKE, because you have to click on an image about 4 times to get it to open up all the way. Google has also been doing some weird things with sidebars that are supposed to be advanced search options or something, but are just making the website harder to use with my smaller Toshiba screen.
And Youtube??? What was wrong with the old Youtube? Instead of rating videos, we now "like" and "dislike" them. "Like" and "dislike" are just so gut reactions and simplistic. Appropriate for Lolcats, maybe, where something is pretty much funny, or not. But Youtube videos (can) have different layers of depth and different components, and very often merit a tiny bit more thought into their ratings. I also don't like it that the info is now below the video, and less is displayed by default than before.
But most of all, what makes me mad is just that these things change, so quickly and randomly, and with so little thought given to the user's preferences. Yes, I realize that these are all free services I'm criticizing. If you told me that they were making a change to save money or even get more profit from advertising, I could respect that. I wouldn't be happy, of course, but I would respect it. But some of the changes just seem totally random and meaningless!
March 10, 2010
Al Vent
Al vent, (To the wind)
la cara al vent, (Face to the wind,)
el cor al vent, (Heart to the wind,)
les mans al vent, (Hands to the wind,)
els ulls al vent, (Eyes to the wind,)
al vent del món. (To the wind of the world.)
I tots, (And everyone,)
tots plens de nit, (Everyone full of night,)
buscant la llum, (Seeking light,)
buscant la pau, (Seeking peace,)
buscant a déu, (Seeking God,)
al vent del món. (To the wind of the world.)
La vida ens dóna penes, (Life gives us sorrows,)
ja el nàixer és un gran plor: (Even birth is a great cry:)
la vida pot ser eixe plor; (Life could be this cry;)
però nosaltres (But we)
al vent, (To the wind,)
la cara al vent, (Face to the wind,)
el cor al vent, (Heart to the wind,)
les mans al vent, (Hands to the wind,)
els ulls al vent, (Eyes to the wind,)
al vent del món. (To the wind of the world.)
I tots, (And everyone,)
tots plens de nit, (Everyone full of night,)
buscant la llum, (Seeking light,)
buscant la pau, (Seeking peace,)
buscant a déu, (Seeking God,)
al vent del món. (To the wind of the world.)
la cara al vent, (Face to the wind,)
el cor al vent, (Heart to the wind,)
les mans al vent, (Hands to the wind,)
els ulls al vent, (Eyes to the wind,)
al vent del món. (To the wind of the world.)
I tots, (And everyone,)
tots plens de nit, (Everyone full of night,)
buscant la llum, (Seeking light,)
buscant la pau, (Seeking peace,)
buscant a déu, (Seeking God,)
al vent del món. (To the wind of the world.)
La vida ens dóna penes, (Life gives us sorrows,)
ja el nàixer és un gran plor: (Even birth is a great cry:)
la vida pot ser eixe plor; (Life could be this cry;)
però nosaltres (But we)
al vent, (To the wind,)
la cara al vent, (Face to the wind,)
el cor al vent, (Heart to the wind,)
les mans al vent, (Hands to the wind,)
els ulls al vent, (Eyes to the wind,)
al vent del món. (To the wind of the world.)
I tots, (And everyone,)
tots plens de nit, (Everyone full of night,)
buscant la llum, (Seeking light,)
buscant la pau, (Seeking peace,)
buscant a déu, (Seeking God,)
al vent del món. (To the wind of the world.)
March 09, 2010
Drama - More Scientific, More Realistic
In Spanish class they asked us to think about the difference between drama and straight prose, and after a bit of internal grumbling, because, after all, I've always preffered prose because I love words, the more of them the better, the rich descriptions of landscapes and psyche and so on, preferred these to the transcript-style of drama, especially when read.
But after that, I just thought about Belief vs. Communication, Anthropological Theories of Religion. Only one of the two is scientific... Communication.
After all, who can prove who believes in what?
But when we read we know, we're in someone else's head, we hear their real thoughts or so we think... in fiction we can accept it, in creative nonfiction we have to realize that the re-imagined thoughts are basically remixed communication from what they once said.
And it's interesting, because drama isn't like this. Drama is all communication. We guess at thoughts, motivations based on communicated words and body language and actions, just as in the real world.
So drama is more scientific, more realistic...
Not to say it's BETTER,
Ordinary prose just gives more of an insight, a window into another perspective, allows for commentary, and explanation, in a way that isn't fully testable, and so, it's an interesting thought, isn't 100% verifiable or trustworthy.
But after that, I just thought about Belief vs. Communication, Anthropological Theories of Religion. Only one of the two is scientific... Communication.
After all, who can prove who believes in what?
But when we read we know, we're in someone else's head, we hear their real thoughts or so we think... in fiction we can accept it, in creative nonfiction we have to realize that the re-imagined thoughts are basically remixed communication from what they once said.
And it's interesting, because drama isn't like this. Drama is all communication. We guess at thoughts, motivations based on communicated words and body language and actions, just as in the real world.
So drama is more scientific, more realistic...
Not to say it's BETTER,
Ordinary prose just gives more of an insight, a window into another perspective, allows for commentary, and explanation, in a way that isn't fully testable, and so, it's an interesting thought, isn't 100% verifiable or trustworthy.
March 08, 2010
Twentieth Birthday Party
We went to the Lake of the Ozarks for the weekend. There was a lot of hiking in Ha Ha Tonka State Park - here I am with Lucia, Ju, and Zahra (from left to right).
We also had a lot of fun back home, especially eating this delicious meal made by Ju and Fangbai!Here are Tina, Myself, Lucia, Laura, Tabi, Amanda, Ju, and Fangbai (from left to right).
Twentieth Birthday
I turned twenty last night. I was sitting on my bed with Lucia, sort of curled up with my toes curling against the blankets. We were reading La Infinita and discussing Neruda, poetry, Chile, wine, the sea...
The weekend had passed too quickly, of course, a blur of delicious food, giggles, ugly sweatpants, movie charades, running through the forest at dusk, hiking in the hills of Ha Ha Tonka. Tina was filming, documentary style, and I said, "Of course I'm happy... I'm with all my best friends... except for Stephanie, of course, and Liisa... Allan, Amy, and Esther, and the ones from last year and from high school who are far away." And I laughed.
The weather was perfect. Just perfect. It was like the best weekend in May, the one we never quite get. Mid sixties, bright warm sun, gentle breezes... and the lake was a deep blue green like I've never quite seen it, low and revealing extra shoreline everywhere, and the pines were dark up in the hills, and the grasses long and golden.
It was a weekend to set into my heart and take with me forever - my friends, my Missouri, my happiness. <3
The weekend had passed too quickly, of course, a blur of delicious food, giggles, ugly sweatpants, movie charades, running through the forest at dusk, hiking in the hills of Ha Ha Tonka. Tina was filming, documentary style, and I said, "Of course I'm happy... I'm with all my best friends... except for Stephanie, of course, and Liisa... Allan, Amy, and Esther, and the ones from last year and from high school who are far away." And I laughed.
The weather was perfect. Just perfect. It was like the best weekend in May, the one we never quite get. Mid sixties, bright warm sun, gentle breezes... and the lake was a deep blue green like I've never quite seen it, low and revealing extra shoreline everywhere, and the pines were dark up in the hills, and the grasses long and golden.
It was a weekend to set into my heart and take with me forever - my friends, my Missouri, my happiness. <3
La Infinita
This is not my best Ensayo Informal. It's a bit too short and not super organized. But it's my Birthday, what do they really expect/want from me?
Ideas y Preguntas sobre La Infinita por Pablo Neruda
La idea de hombre poderoso y experimentado que se siente pequeño ante una mujer no es nueva. Para dar solo un ejemplo, hay la canción “A Thing Called Love”, por Johnny Cash, en que dice, “I saw that giant of a man brought down to his knees by love.” Para mí, es interesante que en el poema “La Infinita”, Neruda no especifique lo que es sobre la mujer que tiene este efecto en él. No habla de la personalidad de la mujer, tampoco describe su inteligencia ni su ingenio. A decir la verdad, habla tampoco sobre su belleza. Habla de su cuerpo, por supuesto, sobre como precioso y fascinante el cuerpo parece a él, pero no sobre su belleza necesariamente, que creo que es interesante.
En este sentido, es similar a los otros poemas y canciones que me parecen tener la misma tema, por ejemplo la de Johnny Cash, y también “Esta Canción es Para Amor” de la película El Rey León, en que dice, “It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you.” E otras cosas así. No sé porque ningunas de estos ejemplos usan descripciones específicas para hablar sobre la mujer. Las canciones son muy vagas y pueden aplicar a cualquiera mujer. Siempre había supuesto, entonces, que había un amor verdadero en estas canciones, que las chicas tenían personalidades fantásticas y no importaban tanto los hombres que necesitaban cantar sobre la piel blanquísima y la cara perfecta.
Pero el poema de Neruda es interesante, porque habla del cuerpo pero todavía está vago. Es fácil decir que es superficial porque habla sobre el cuerpo de la mujer y nada más, ¿pero que dice exactamente?
El dice que su pecho es como “las palomas gemelas”, pero esto puede describir más que un tipo de pecho. De “Pequeña, grano de trigo, alondra…” podemos ver que ella es pequeña… o, por lo menos, que parece pequeña a este hombre poderoso, que ha hecho la paz y la guerra y ha medido la tierra. Después, las descripciones son más raras y dicen menos sobre un cuerpo verdadero. Por ejemplo, “La luz de tu cintura.” y “Eres blanca y azul.” – ¿Porque tiene una luz en la cintura? ¿Por lo menos podía imaginar cómo podía un orificio, como la boca o, aun mas normal en la poesía, los ojos, tener luz… pero la cintura? ¿De dónde viene la luz? Ojalá que la mujer no esté azul de verdad.
Lo que sí puedo decir sobre las descripciones, es que nunca mencionan la belleza ni la edad de la mujer. Al contrario, dice, “andando, andando, me pasaré la vida.” – Entonces, va a explorar su cuerpo a través de las vidas de las dos, no importa la edad, la condición superficial del cuerpo. ¿Si solo le importa la belleza, porque está con la misma chica en la juventud y también en la vejez, a través de la vida? Hay más aquí que la lujurio.
No estoy segura que entiendo la parte sobre la mar y la vendimia. Esta parte es difícil entender para mí, pero la vendimia y los racimos tienen que ver con las uvas, y las uvas y la mar son cosas muy importantes y simboles de Chile. El poeta, Pablo Neruda, era de Chile e incorpora cosas de su país en muchas de sus obras. Entonces, creo que está comparando la mujer a su país, una comparación que da mucho honor a la chica, si es verdad. Chile es muy importante a Neruda, y no queremos nuestros patrias con lujurio, sino las formas opuestas del amor. Muchas veces no hay una razón concreta porque amamos nuestros países, pero parece un lugar muy bien, la parte más bella del mundo. ¿Dice Neruda que ama a la mujer como ama su país?
Tengo muchas preguntas sobre este poema. ¿Porque muchas poemas y canciones con esta tema no describen mejor la mujer? ¿Porque tiene Neruda esta obsession con el cuerpo, y que quiere decir con esta obsesión? ¿Es algo superficial? ¿Solo le importa el cuerpo? ¿O es el cuerpo un tipo de metonimia?
Ideas y Preguntas sobre La Infinita por Pablo Neruda
La idea de hombre poderoso y experimentado que se siente pequeño ante una mujer no es nueva. Para dar solo un ejemplo, hay la canción “A Thing Called Love”, por Johnny Cash, en que dice, “I saw that giant of a man brought down to his knees by love.” Para mí, es interesante que en el poema “La Infinita”, Neruda no especifique lo que es sobre la mujer que tiene este efecto en él. No habla de la personalidad de la mujer, tampoco describe su inteligencia ni su ingenio. A decir la verdad, habla tampoco sobre su belleza. Habla de su cuerpo, por supuesto, sobre como precioso y fascinante el cuerpo parece a él, pero no sobre su belleza necesariamente, que creo que es interesante.
En este sentido, es similar a los otros poemas y canciones que me parecen tener la misma tema, por ejemplo la de Johnny Cash, y también “Esta Canción es Para Amor” de la película El Rey León, en que dice, “It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you.” E otras cosas así. No sé porque ningunas de estos ejemplos usan descripciones específicas para hablar sobre la mujer. Las canciones son muy vagas y pueden aplicar a cualquiera mujer. Siempre había supuesto, entonces, que había un amor verdadero en estas canciones, que las chicas tenían personalidades fantásticas y no importaban tanto los hombres que necesitaban cantar sobre la piel blanquísima y la cara perfecta.
Pero el poema de Neruda es interesante, porque habla del cuerpo pero todavía está vago. Es fácil decir que es superficial porque habla sobre el cuerpo de la mujer y nada más, ¿pero que dice exactamente?
El dice que su pecho es como “las palomas gemelas”, pero esto puede describir más que un tipo de pecho. De “Pequeña, grano de trigo, alondra…” podemos ver que ella es pequeña… o, por lo menos, que parece pequeña a este hombre poderoso, que ha hecho la paz y la guerra y ha medido la tierra. Después, las descripciones son más raras y dicen menos sobre un cuerpo verdadero. Por ejemplo, “La luz de tu cintura.” y “Eres blanca y azul.” – ¿Porque tiene una luz en la cintura? ¿Por lo menos podía imaginar cómo podía un orificio, como la boca o, aun mas normal en la poesía, los ojos, tener luz… pero la cintura? ¿De dónde viene la luz? Ojalá que la mujer no esté azul de verdad.
Lo que sí puedo decir sobre las descripciones, es que nunca mencionan la belleza ni la edad de la mujer. Al contrario, dice, “andando, andando, me pasaré la vida.” – Entonces, va a explorar su cuerpo a través de las vidas de las dos, no importa la edad, la condición superficial del cuerpo. ¿Si solo le importa la belleza, porque está con la misma chica en la juventud y también en la vejez, a través de la vida? Hay más aquí que la lujurio.
No estoy segura que entiendo la parte sobre la mar y la vendimia. Esta parte es difícil entender para mí, pero la vendimia y los racimos tienen que ver con las uvas, y las uvas y la mar son cosas muy importantes y simboles de Chile. El poeta, Pablo Neruda, era de Chile e incorpora cosas de su país en muchas de sus obras. Entonces, creo que está comparando la mujer a su país, una comparación que da mucho honor a la chica, si es verdad. Chile es muy importante a Neruda, y no queremos nuestros patrias con lujurio, sino las formas opuestas del amor. Muchas veces no hay una razón concreta porque amamos nuestros países, pero parece un lugar muy bien, la parte más bella del mundo. ¿Dice Neruda que ama a la mujer como ama su país?
Tengo muchas preguntas sobre este poema. ¿Porque muchas poemas y canciones con esta tema no describen mejor la mujer? ¿Porque tiene Neruda esta obsession con el cuerpo, y que quiere decir con esta obsesión? ¿Es algo superficial? ¿Solo le importa el cuerpo? ¿O es el cuerpo un tipo de metonimia?
March 04, 2010
Lovely Day
43 degrees Fahrenheit, beautiful blue sky and bright sun, sitting on the warm mulch by a tree just outside of Strickland hall. It's very comfortable with a three-quarter length shirt on. If everyday could be like today, I'd be a very happy girl...
I ordered MooKure, Southern Thai Curry, from Ju. It was quite spicy, as the lowest it can be made is an 8/10 on the Thai scale. But I loved it, and the rice and fried egg helped take it down to a reasonable heat index.
It looked a bit like this, but with less liquid:
Ju is an amazing cook. I think I'm going to go into Thai withdrawal once she leaves... ;_;
I ordered MooKure, Southern Thai Curry, from Ju. It was quite spicy, as the lowest it can be made is an 8/10 on the Thai scale. But I loved it, and the rice and fried egg helped take it down to a reasonable heat index.
It looked a bit like this, but with less liquid:
Ju is an amazing cook. I think I'm going to go into Thai withdrawal once she leaves... ;_;
March 03, 2010
Presents from My Mom
I was thinking, while writing my posts about technology memories, about video games and how every time we got a new console or something for Christmas, three times in all, Mom used to give us two games with it, and one of them was always AWESOME and the other always... kind of sucked.
With the Gameboy Pocket, she got us Pokemon Yellow and Ducktales: Become the Richest Duck in the World.
With the Playstation Two, she got us Kingdom Hearts, and some incredibly crappy racing game.
I smile as I think about her going into a video game store, asking the guys behind the counter what's good. Probably, they give her their expensive, newest bestseller. And then, they rummage behind the counter for some game they're worried about selling, and tell her that's great too. It's a pretty funny mental image.
I giggle to myself, at the guy's short stint as a con-man, at my mom's naivete.
Then I think about my mom again, why she went into the store in the first place and asked what was good, that she was thinking about Melissa and I at home, unwrapping the presents for Christmas and then sitting in the basement for hours, playing together.
I really love my mom.
With the Gameboy Pocket, she got us Pokemon Yellow and Ducktales: Become the Richest Duck in the World.
With the Playstation Two, she got us Kingdom Hearts, and some incredibly crappy racing game.
I smile as I think about her going into a video game store, asking the guys behind the counter what's good. Probably, they give her their expensive, newest bestseller. And then, they rummage behind the counter for some game they're worried about selling, and tell her that's great too. It's a pretty funny mental image.
I giggle to myself, at the guy's short stint as a con-man, at my mom's naivete.
Then I think about my mom again, why she went into the store in the first place and asked what was good, that she was thinking about Melissa and I at home, unwrapping the presents for Christmas and then sitting in the basement for hours, playing together.
I really love my mom.
March 02, 2010
Cabin Fever
A cold, long winter. No surprise warm days. Lots of snow. Temperatures occasionally falling below 0'degrees... Fahrenheit. It's been beautiful, and a bit exhausting.
Everyone's sick, tired, stressed, tensions are flying high. My skin, my head start to burn in meetings, like steam pressure building and scalding, when working out slight details, when interrupted, when fighting to make my voice heard. I just feel the need to get out, away.
I've been homesick in the last week, just a bit. A tiny bit. But it's the first time. It's strange.
Let's... not break...
Okay?
Everyone's sick, tired, stressed, tensions are flying high. My skin, my head start to burn in meetings, like steam pressure building and scalding, when working out slight details, when interrupted, when fighting to make my voice heard. I just feel the need to get out, away.
I've been homesick in the last week, just a bit. A tiny bit. But it's the first time. It's strange.
Let's... not break...
Okay?
March 01, 2010
My Technology Memories, Part I (5-8 years old)
Since I'm almost twenty, two decades old, I kind of feel like filling my March posts full of nostalgia. Don't think the world has changed in the last 15 years? (I can't really count my infancy, you know). At first I think, it hasn't really. And then I think of the internet. Whoa. I grew up with computers and the internet, was one of the first generations to do so.
The first website I ever visited was yahoo, the search engine. I looked for Lion King pictures to print out and colour at my aunt's house in D.C. I lost my first tooth later during that same trip.
I used to love libraries, not only for the books but for the computer labs they had back then, with all those interactive story book games. Little Critter's Trip to the Beach was often, and so was that one about the dog who travels under the sea, across space, etc. Everything you clicked on seemed to do something surprising! The off-brand Pocahontas adventure was somewhat disappointing, but I loved Pocahontas enough to play it once in a while. There were also tons of educational games. Lovely science games where you mix weather in labs or follow out complicated sequences. I destroyed Reader Rabbit - my first Journalism experience. ;)
My dad had a computer too. A big black laptop with a little red dot for a mouse. He brought it home from work and we have a picture of my sister and I playing on it together. There were exactly two programs that were of use to us on it; some panorama viewing tool that got old quickly, and Build a Park. That one started with an almost-voice sound saying, "Build a Park!!". It enchanted everyone including my mom. Maybe a frog said it - I'm pretty sure a frog was involved somehow. All the game entailed was placing things - benches, lamps, shrubs - here and there like a sticker book. A really early version of Roller Coaster Tycoon. ;)
Later, we got a P.C. with Windows 95 on it. We had some game with Bumble Bees on it that wasn't all that fun, and another game, a Snoopy themed one, that was awesome. There were different levels, but we all remember the bowling because when you did poorly, which in my case was nearly always, the game would say, "Bummer Man!" with a kind of hippy-accent. We were thrilled because back then sound bites were few and far between. We'd bowl time and again and giggle every time we failed.
The Windows 95 also had screensavers. One with stars shooting across - one with a maze - one with pipes. They were awesome.
When I got a wee bit older, dad showed me the grown-up games. Minesweeper (awesome). Solitaire (which bored me once I'd seen all the card designs). Pipe Dream (scary btu awesome). For some reason he steered away from the skiing one. I probably would have sucked. I had little to no natural aptitude for video games and such, but my enthusiasm was indomitable.
The best of my dad's games came from a floppy. It was called Battle for Atlantis, and was basically Risk. There was a simple map of islands, four nations represented by colour, and each territory was marked with a colour and a number - the population of that island. The goal was to conquer everything with your colour (blue). The game was long and there wasn't a good way to pause it. I spent many a long afternoon conquering Atlantis.
My best friend Kirsten had a game on her computer that we didn't have. You had to run around with a mouse and try to get cheese while a cat chased you. I loved that game. I made us play it far more often than Kirsten would have liked. Kirsten's family computer had a password back then. Ours didn't at home, and anyway I thought it was something very important, very private. Kirsten told me her father's password as if it was something of upmost secrecy. It thrilled me to have this knowledge, and to not be able to tell anyone. I never did, tell anyone. And I still remember the password, although it's been more than twelve years.
I probably would have tried to buy my own computer games, but actually a large part of my video game mania was satisfied by going across the street to Richard's house and playing Nintendo 64 there. Banjo Kazooie was the favourite, we (Richard) beat it and then we (Richard) kept playing for hours and hours, dreaming about the Ice Key and Sharkfood Island. Mario Kart was also beloved. And, at the very end, just before the move, Zelda, the Ocarina of Time was released.
Windows 98 was possibly the best thing that ever happened to me. The computer room once we moved to St. Louis was upstairs, across from my own bedroom. I missed Kirsten and Richard and Banjo Kazooie terribly, and I put a lot of energy into this new system and it's many wonders.
Encarta Encyclopedia. I devoured it - it was even better than my Children's dictionary, because it was hyperlinked all over! And occasionally you could even find a picture! Or, rarer yet, a sound file! Or, rarest of all, a short, bad quality video. I spent hours reading articles in search for these, until I found an 'advanced search' option that let me look for 'multimedia'. What a word, multimedia! I watched every video on Encarta again and again. Whenever you read about the rainforest or some such, and the word Biodiversity appeared, you had but to click on the word to be taken to a page with a brilliant full screen picture of a poison dart frog in lush foliage, with this great jungle soundtrack, and the words Biodiversity. I wasn't sure what it was, but I understood that it was HIGHLY desirable.
On Encarta there was a nutrition analyzing application, a basic phrases in a few foreign languages application, and a brilliant game, where you wander through a castle answering trivia questions to open doors. There was a mystery in the castle which I never solved, but I learned a lot. (Actually, this might be a lie. I have a vague half formed memory of going back at 14 or so and beating the game. But that might have been wishful thinking).
But soon we got the internet. Right at the beginning, websites addresses were something to be harvested from the real world, from t.v. ads and magazine pages. All the big companies had them. Nintendo.com. I collected these addresses like pogs.
Then I discovered search. Google didn't exist back then. For a long time I used search.com, going onto Yahoo when I had exhausted all results. With dedication, it was possible to do that back then - even with a topic as broad as, say, 'Banjo Kazooie'. I probably looked at every Banjo Kazooie page that existed on the internet at that time. I read walkthroughs, rumours, fanfiction... I remember how sites were laid out back then. Remember guestbooks? If you look up my name Google to this day you see posts from 1998 in BK guestbooks. :) There were few pictures online back then and everytime I was lucky enough to find one, especially, almost unimaginably, an animated GIF, I saved it to my hard drive.
Nickelodeon.com had GAMES to download. This blew me away. I picked one at random - it was called Crying Baby. It was 2-point-something megabites and took a half hour to download. I walked downstairs and felt pretty cool while it was downloading. I ran into my dad and said, "Doesn't it take a long time, downloading?" He got angry with me! He told me I wasn't allowed to download anything, that it was bad. I was pretty scared and I didn't download any more games for a while. He was well intentioned - he didn't want a silly 8 year old downloading viruses onto a new computer. But still, I was confused. Even the pictures I downloaded took a while back then. Was I not allowed to download them? In secret, I continued hoarding images.
Guiltily, I kept Crying Baby. It sucked. This baby cried until you gave him one of his six toys. He would be happy for a few seconds, then destroy the toy and start crying again. Just that. Forever. But it was mine, my game, my illegal and bad game that I wasn't supposed to have. I figured out how to make a hidden folder and I hid Crying Baby there.
... But after a while, the computer still seemed to be running fine. And I thought - if Crying Baby didn't destroy the computer, maybe it's okay to get just one more game from Nickelodeon.com? Slowly, I acquired each and every one of them, in fear and secrecy. I'd sneak on the computer at night to download them, or while my dad was at work, knowing I couldn't let my dad see and praying that mom didn't know any better. Playing the games was fine, I could always close them fast enough to avoid being seen. But the downloads, now, that was risky business.
The first website I ever visited was yahoo, the search engine. I looked for Lion King pictures to print out and colour at my aunt's house in D.C. I lost my first tooth later during that same trip.
I used to love libraries, not only for the books but for the computer labs they had back then, with all those interactive story book games. Little Critter's Trip to the Beach was often, and so was that one about the dog who travels under the sea, across space, etc. Everything you clicked on seemed to do something surprising! The off-brand Pocahontas adventure was somewhat disappointing, but I loved Pocahontas enough to play it once in a while. There were also tons of educational games. Lovely science games where you mix weather in labs or follow out complicated sequences. I destroyed Reader Rabbit - my first Journalism experience. ;)
My dad had a computer too. A big black laptop with a little red dot for a mouse. He brought it home from work and we have a picture of my sister and I playing on it together. There were exactly two programs that were of use to us on it; some panorama viewing tool that got old quickly, and Build a Park. That one started with an almost-voice sound saying, "Build a Park!!". It enchanted everyone including my mom. Maybe a frog said it - I'm pretty sure a frog was involved somehow. All the game entailed was placing things - benches, lamps, shrubs - here and there like a sticker book. A really early version of Roller Coaster Tycoon. ;)
Later, we got a P.C. with Windows 95 on it. We had some game with Bumble Bees on it that wasn't all that fun, and another game, a Snoopy themed one, that was awesome. There were different levels, but we all remember the bowling because when you did poorly, which in my case was nearly always, the game would say, "Bummer Man!" with a kind of hippy-accent. We were thrilled because back then sound bites were few and far between. We'd bowl time and again and giggle every time we failed.
The Windows 95 also had screensavers. One with stars shooting across - one with a maze - one with pipes. They were awesome.
When I got a wee bit older, dad showed me the grown-up games. Minesweeper (awesome). Solitaire (which bored me once I'd seen all the card designs). Pipe Dream (scary btu awesome). For some reason he steered away from the skiing one. I probably would have sucked. I had little to no natural aptitude for video games and such, but my enthusiasm was indomitable.
The best of my dad's games came from a floppy. It was called Battle for Atlantis, and was basically Risk. There was a simple map of islands, four nations represented by colour, and each territory was marked with a colour and a number - the population of that island. The goal was to conquer everything with your colour (blue). The game was long and there wasn't a good way to pause it. I spent many a long afternoon conquering Atlantis.
My best friend Kirsten had a game on her computer that we didn't have. You had to run around with a mouse and try to get cheese while a cat chased you. I loved that game. I made us play it far more often than Kirsten would have liked. Kirsten's family computer had a password back then. Ours didn't at home, and anyway I thought it was something very important, very private. Kirsten told me her father's password as if it was something of upmost secrecy. It thrilled me to have this knowledge, and to not be able to tell anyone. I never did, tell anyone. And I still remember the password, although it's been more than twelve years.
I probably would have tried to buy my own computer games, but actually a large part of my video game mania was satisfied by going across the street to Richard's house and playing Nintendo 64 there. Banjo Kazooie was the favourite, we (Richard) beat it and then we (Richard) kept playing for hours and hours, dreaming about the Ice Key and Sharkfood Island. Mario Kart was also beloved. And, at the very end, just before the move, Zelda, the Ocarina of Time was released.
Windows 98 was possibly the best thing that ever happened to me. The computer room once we moved to St. Louis was upstairs, across from my own bedroom. I missed Kirsten and Richard and Banjo Kazooie terribly, and I put a lot of energy into this new system and it's many wonders.
Encarta Encyclopedia. I devoured it - it was even better than my Children's dictionary, because it was hyperlinked all over! And occasionally you could even find a picture! Or, rarer yet, a sound file! Or, rarest of all, a short, bad quality video. I spent hours reading articles in search for these, until I found an 'advanced search' option that let me look for 'multimedia'. What a word, multimedia! I watched every video on Encarta again and again. Whenever you read about the rainforest or some such, and the word Biodiversity appeared, you had but to click on the word to be taken to a page with a brilliant full screen picture of a poison dart frog in lush foliage, with this great jungle soundtrack, and the words Biodiversity. I wasn't sure what it was, but I understood that it was HIGHLY desirable.
On Encarta there was a nutrition analyzing application, a basic phrases in a few foreign languages application, and a brilliant game, where you wander through a castle answering trivia questions to open doors. There was a mystery in the castle which I never solved, but I learned a lot. (Actually, this might be a lie. I have a vague half formed memory of going back at 14 or so and beating the game. But that might have been wishful thinking).
But soon we got the internet. Right at the beginning, websites addresses were something to be harvested from the real world, from t.v. ads and magazine pages. All the big companies had them. Nintendo.com. I collected these addresses like pogs.
Then I discovered search. Google didn't exist back then. For a long time I used search.com, going onto Yahoo when I had exhausted all results. With dedication, it was possible to do that back then - even with a topic as broad as, say, 'Banjo Kazooie'. I probably looked at every Banjo Kazooie page that existed on the internet at that time. I read walkthroughs, rumours, fanfiction... I remember how sites were laid out back then. Remember guestbooks? If you look up my name Google to this day you see posts from 1998 in BK guestbooks. :) There were few pictures online back then and everytime I was lucky enough to find one, especially, almost unimaginably, an animated GIF, I saved it to my hard drive.
Nickelodeon.com had GAMES to download. This blew me away. I picked one at random - it was called Crying Baby. It was 2-point-something megabites and took a half hour to download. I walked downstairs and felt pretty cool while it was downloading. I ran into my dad and said, "Doesn't it take a long time, downloading?" He got angry with me! He told me I wasn't allowed to download anything, that it was bad. I was pretty scared and I didn't download any more games for a while. He was well intentioned - he didn't want a silly 8 year old downloading viruses onto a new computer. But still, I was confused. Even the pictures I downloaded took a while back then. Was I not allowed to download them? In secret, I continued hoarding images.
Guiltily, I kept Crying Baby. It sucked. This baby cried until you gave him one of his six toys. He would be happy for a few seconds, then destroy the toy and start crying again. Just that. Forever. But it was mine, my game, my illegal and bad game that I wasn't supposed to have. I figured out how to make a hidden folder and I hid Crying Baby there.
... But after a while, the computer still seemed to be running fine. And I thought - if Crying Baby didn't destroy the computer, maybe it's okay to get just one more game from Nickelodeon.com? Slowly, I acquired each and every one of them, in fear and secrecy. I'd sneak on the computer at night to download them, or while my dad was at work, knowing I couldn't let my dad see and praying that mom didn't know any better. Playing the games was fine, I could always close them fast enough to avoid being seen. But the downloads, now, that was risky business.
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