exercising my literacy: March 2005

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Madness = 30th March - 27th May

I'm writing right now because I don't know what else to do.

I'm actually getting palpitations thinking about what will happen in the next 9 weeks. 24 hr shifts twice a week, 8-5 in the days between (so some days will be 35 hr runs), Saturdays lined up until exam week with miscellaneous church stuff, and somewhere in between I have to still squeeze in work though I don't know where or how. I need to keep my job else I can't go away at the end of the year...

For the first time in my life I really feel like something is going to give way soon. I don't know if it'll be my marks or being able to go away at the end of the year or church stuff... I have responsibility at church. I need to pass if I want to go away at the end of the year. But I need to work if I want to go away at the end of the year. But I can't work if I want to pass or keep my responsibilities at church.

I'm sorry if I'm whingy. I don't mean to be. I guess this is a disclaimer right here: if I snap at you sometime in the next 9 weeks, I apologise in advance. Please understand that it's probably the lack of sleep talking. In the meantime I pray for self-control (to not lash out or whinge), peace (it'd be interesting to take my blood pressure right now), and guidance. And a serving heart, to not adopt a yucky attitude towards the church stuff that's coming up because I'm tired and worn out.

9 weeks to go...

Saturday, March 26, 2005

The Dream.

I went to the local library for the first time in 6 years and borrowed 'Death of a Salesman'. If you've never read it before then you should give it a go. It's not a very long play, I'm sure you can kill it in one day (hey if I can do it...).

It's a really good play because it has much to say about the futility of man. It describes a man whose life goal is to be successful; he places his hopes and dreams onto "making it", being rich, being better than everyone else, being liked by everyone else. The central character, Willy Loman, has an almost religious zeal in his belief in success, wealth and popularity. He clings onto these things with increasing desperation, driven by unyielding insecurity, as he fails to cope with the growing disparity between the dream and his own pathetic reality. What's sadder is that in his pursuit for such a dream, he loses his integrity, fails to appreciate the good things in his life (e.g. his wife and friend Charley), and alienates his son as he burdens all his hopes and dreams onto him.

This play is particularly pertinent because the other day I was reading an article in the 'Money' section of the SMH. I was actually going to blog about it but then kinda forgot. Anyhow it was about the explosion of DIY investment books in the last 5 years, and why the demand for such books had grown so significantly. Rather than a straightforward answer of "er, cos people are greedy?", the writer suggested that this was a response to an underlying insecurity that people had about their lives. The future feels increasingly uncertain, particularly since 9/11 and this new era of terrorism, along with rising oil prices and stupidly expensive houses in Sydney. Add to that baby boomers spending their offsprings' inheritance on themselves, leaving young people with no guarantee of a secure 'nest-egg', an increasing societal burden as the aging population grows exponentially... well you get the idea. The future looks grim. Our only saviour? Financial security. Success. Riches. The American Dream. Anyone can make it, you just gotta have a dream, kid.

And boy don't these books sell you a dream. Apparently now everyone can pay their mortgage off in 5 years, make a million by age 25, have an extensive and "healthy" portfolio, retire by 40, and start their very own multi-million internet company from the comforts of their own home (I think the secret has something to do with listening to a Rich Dad instead of a Poor One). Going hand in hand with personal wealth is personal success. How to Win Friends and Influence People, Seven Habits you can adopt to be one of the Highly Effective People.

If only we are rich, if only we are popular. And not just that -- we want to be just that little bit richer and better liked than everyone else. To drive a better car than most, to have a better house than most, to have smarter kids than most. Once we have that then we are set, our future is secure. We will have control* of our lives. Then we will be safe, we will be happy. This is the mantra of the religion that is capitalism.

How much is this faith ingrained into the outlook for our own futures? And more importantly, will this faith carry us through, or like Willy Loman, will we be driven to despair in chasing this phantom stronghold that is the American Dream?

(*haha yes that is a reference to you who's all about power and control et al... *rolls eyes*)

Monday, March 21, 2005

Pitstop.

Okay let's write a proper post.

There's been a lot of stuff weighing on my mind of late but I don't know if it's been appropriate to "talk out loud" about them on this medium. I don't want to whinge about my life. More particularly, I worry that blogging about my stuff will make me self-absorbed (oh the irony -- I'm blogging now asking myself, "Is blogging making me self-absorbed?").

Then it made me think about the whole blogging thing. Is it possible to keep a blog free from self-absorbed-ness? From the everyday rants about the things going wrong in your life, to a list of the latest CDs/clothes/whatever that you just bought (And I got it for half price! Yay!), to the 3000 word essays about your take on love, life, religion, politics, ethics, morality, music, movies, your mother... are blogs just a blantant exercise to dwell on oneself? When does it stop becoming "sharing about one's day/struggles/joys" or "expressing an opinion" and become something much more sinister?

Invariably on someone's blog at some point in time, when they've blogged enough, will there be some disclaimer about how you can't know everything about them from reading the blog and how it is merely but a fraction of the person that they are in real life. Which I'm sure is true, I think reading someone's blog is comparible to reading crib notes and thinking you understand the book. Yeah you've probably gotten the gist of it but you've also missed the point. True appreciation of the book comes from reading the book itself -- there is very little pleasure derived from reading crib notes c.f. taking the time to savour the literature yourself. Same with knowing someone from a blog vs. knowing them from talking to them, spending time with them, etc etc.

But that's not why I bring this up. My point is, why does everyone put this disclaimer up? Surely it's reactionary, against something that's happened, someone who's thought that they could know that person just from reading the blog. Someone who's used their blog against them, made a judgement about that person because of their blog.

So into this 3 ring circus enter... the audience. The people who read your blog. You want people to read your blog, but you don't want people to judge you because of your blog. Some people say that they just write whatever and forget about who might read it and its implications. Is that honestly possible? I have to say for myself that it's generally not -- like now when I'm writing, I'm already thinking about what some of you might say in response to this (haha esp you since we talked about this the other day). For every word you publish, you are putting yourself out on a limb, open to how they might perceive you differently because of something that you've expressed.

This fear of other's judgement causes people to write cryptically (usually through lyrics of some sort), or to dwell on the superficial things of their lives. Thus all the crap that doesn't really matter get overstated and appear over-important in their lives (then we judge them and think they're superficial, and so this cycle goes) . But this is why I conclude that blogging is self-absorbed. In the absence of talking about something really meaningful to you, why talk anyway? Isn't that just a case of wanting your voice heard even if you're just talking about crap? Isn't that self-absorb-ness?

I have been contemplating not writing for a while. Yesterday, I don't really know how, but I stumbled across the blog of someone who I know sorta. But anyhow, I remembered how reading a good blog can be so... good. She really challenged me about stuff that I relate to. She showed me that it is possible to have a blog which is of benefit to others; she really encouraged me to keep a good blog.

So I am giving this one last go. I strive to either write stuff that will be of benefit in some way, or I am not going to do it anymore. Because I can really see the temptation in dwelling on myself and that has always been the last thing I want for this blog.

I am on probation as of today.

Friday, March 18, 2005

Something like a good armchair.

From Notes of a Painter, 1908.

"What I dream of is an art of balance, of purity and serenity, devoid of troubling or depressing subject matter, an art which could be for every mental worker, for the businessman as well as the man of letters, for example, a soothing, calming influence on the mind, something like a good armchair which provides relaxation from physical fatigue." - Henri Matisse.

And that is why he's my favourite.

With thanks to Rev N.

On the front cover of the English Service Programme, last Sunday.

There's a story told about a converted Indian who said:

"I have two dogs living inside me --
a mean dog and a good dog.
They are always fighting.
The mean dog wants me to do bad things
and the good dog wants me to do good things.

Do you want to know which dog wins?

The one I feed the most!"

Friday, March 11, 2005

Prayer point.

In one of our increasingly typical superspeed 3 minute catchups about everything in our lives in the past month, I quickly jotted down my friend's prayer points (as we always do).

Her prayer point for herself was to have 'deep love for God'. I didn't really give that a second thought as I gave her a quick hug and ran off to another church meeting.

Since then I've been thinking more about this prayer point. Most often people pray for stuff like exams, sickness, strength, endurance, patience, love for others. We just assume that love for God is well, assumed knowledge, assumed to be ever-present, ever-strong.

My friend is one of the most godly people I know. I look up to her so much. When I first read back on the prayer point I thought it was kinda weird... like, as if she doesn't have love for God. But I guess that only reflected my lack of pondering on my own relationship with God, being too caught up in praying for ancillary things like all the things I mentioned above. In getting caught up with all the other things I never considered praying for and having deep concern for my love for God. Oh gosh I'm so ashamed to be even typing this.

Praying for the most important thing in my life. It makes so much sense that I can't believe I never did it before.

[P.S. Apologies for my erratic-ness of late. On a cheerier note I found both my rubber and my cardio notes. =)]

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

The fight against frazzled-ness.

My name is Grace and I am a frazzled person.

I have no idea where anything is. I don't know where the tutorial is tomorrow afternoon. I don't know where the pizza place at Randwick is. I don't know where my hospital badge is.

I lose more things than I own. Items I have lost include my wallet, glasses, train pass, keys, pencil case, jewellry, jackets, calculator, library card, lip balms, hair ties, umbrellas, folders, library books, CDs, shoes; to only name the ones I can remember, and to only name the ones I have lost and never found again (thankfully many more have come back to me, usually when I've been looking for something else). Two weeks ago I lost my cardiology notes. Today I lost my eraser.

If I have been to your house, I have probably left something there at least once before. At least once a week I will walk out of the house, get in the car, drive to the traffic lights and then remember that I forgot something. I will run back to the house and my mother would already have the door unlocked because she knows I have forgotten something again. One time I went back to the house 3 times. My neighbours thought I was crazy.

I never remember to bring things. Stuff that I borrowed from people, stuff that people want to borrow off me, stuff I want to give people, letters I never remembered to bring out with me and put in the post box. If you want something off me come and pick it up. But first give me some time to find it.

But I don't want to be frazzled. Losing things makes me want to cry. Leaving things behind, forgetting things, getting lost frustrates me to no end. This all happens a lot. Which 1) reminds me continually that I am a twit and 2) makes me wish that I weren't a twit.

And damnit I just want to find my eraser. I know it's just an eraser but heck, it's the principle of the matter. My fight against frazzled-ness and twit-dom is at stake here.

Ugh, where the heck is it?!?

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

Girls.

2 hours ago, in the student computer room. A bunch of girls sitting around.

Girl 1: Why hasn't he messaged me back already?
Girl 2: How long has it been?
Girl 1: Like 24 hours!
Girl 2: Oh no! What did you say in the SMS? Was it repliable?
Girl 1: Do you think maybe he doesn't care anymore? I'm getting all these mixed messages!
Girl 3: Maybe he just isn't an SMS type of guy.
Girl 1: Yeah he did say he isn't a messaging person.
Girl 4: Maybe he lost his phone or something.
Girl 5: Or his mother just died.
Girl 1: Why won't he just message me back? Maybe I did something the other night on our date...

Sitting there listening, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

exercising my literacy