Five years ago, or even two, I don't think I would've been able to hold a straight face and chat about our lives so casually. Granted, there are reservations on what we speak about, but its not longer, "ewww gross!!" as a response to when talk about boys (although I don't think that was ever the case), or "omgomgomg like omg omg!!" to some outrageous thing someone says (once again, this is an exaggeration). In our old age, it seems we just kind of have that "sigh...again?" kind of reaction to a lot of things.
That was really broad, but details would give too much about the people away. So I'll just go off on a tangent about sex. I never got the sex talk from my parents, thank god. But I was never not told about the birds and the bees. Point is, I was raised very much by my friends, it really is kind of funny now that I think about it. In this sense, six or seven years ago, it was a forbidden topic. Everything was kept hush hush, and when something slipped out, there were giggles and whispers even the most oblivous person would notice. Now, its just "sex talks" over coffee or lunch or dinner. Strangely though, I am still the observer, I don't talk much about myself unless necessary, but in this case, what happens in the bedroom stays there.
Tangent again. Along with this openness in discussing such personal details comes the fact that there isn't as much gossip anymore either. Very rarely do I hear people (my friends at least) gossip about others. I mean, there still is talk about other people, but most of it is speculation, but there's no more meaningless rumors.
I don't know where this is going, I'm super tired. Also, I just realized I only blog about once a month. Not intentionally, but there's never a solid block of time for me to sit down and write something. Granted, it took me all of 10 minutes to write this, and I will most likely not read this ever again, but whenever I have deep thoughtful things that need to be put on paper, I usually don't realize it unless I'm walking or about to fall asleep.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Academia.
The bane of my existence.
What really annoys me is the wide variety of grades that professors give. Remember those good old days of high school where the correlation of grades in a course load was generally 1? In college it's practically 0. Okay, realistically, it's more like 0.8, but whatever, the point is that it has dropped significantly. ALL college courses are harder than high school, so the courses that are hard to begin with are just magnified. Knowledge is good, obviously, but how is learning about the recently included mukims of Bandar Seri Begawan going to help me understand economics? The only reasoning I can come up with is that my international relations track includes Southeast Asia, and I suppose there's always the possibility of expansion in Brunei, but COME ON. These classes are interesting, but I don't want them to count against me if I don't understand religion among the Javanese, or the disappearance of Hinduism on the island everywhere except among the Tengger. Point is, I am hoping one day these classes will help in some way. So, for now, I'll believe that Strauss and Howe are right in the way history will one day repeat itself. One day.
Also, the requirements needed to graduate are annoying, especially now, when I am looking at the classes I need to take to fulfill my majors. Half of them aren't offered in the fall, and the other half all have the same time slots. Who's bright idea was it to offer half of the required classes at the same time?! And also, I believe that professors should have their syllibi made readily available, and not just to the students presently taking the courses. It would make our lives so much easier deciding which classes to take together in a semester. It is especially beneficial in the later half of college, when most people are done with the prerequisites and are beginning to take graduate level courses. SIGH. I guess for now, the most I can hope for is I won't die from the only course load for the fall that fits in some sort of schedule. GAH.
Unedited and a mess, sorry.
What really annoys me is the wide variety of grades that professors give. Remember those good old days of high school where the correlation of grades in a course load was generally 1? In college it's practically 0. Okay, realistically, it's more like 0.8, but whatever, the point is that it has dropped significantly. ALL college courses are harder than high school, so the courses that are hard to begin with are just magnified. Knowledge is good, obviously, but how is learning about the recently included mukims of Bandar Seri Begawan going to help me understand economics? The only reasoning I can come up with is that my international relations track includes Southeast Asia, and I suppose there's always the possibility of expansion in Brunei, but COME ON. These classes are interesting, but I don't want them to count against me if I don't understand religion among the Javanese, or the disappearance of Hinduism on the island everywhere except among the Tengger. Point is, I am hoping one day these classes will help in some way. So, for now, I'll believe that Strauss and Howe are right in the way history will one day repeat itself. One day.
Also, the requirements needed to graduate are annoying, especially now, when I am looking at the classes I need to take to fulfill my majors. Half of them aren't offered in the fall, and the other half all have the same time slots. Who's bright idea was it to offer half of the required classes at the same time?! And also, I believe that professors should have their syllibi made readily available, and not just to the students presently taking the courses. It would make our lives so much easier deciding which classes to take together in a semester. It is especially beneficial in the later half of college, when most people are done with the prerequisites and are beginning to take graduate level courses. SIGH. I guess for now, the most I can hope for is I won't die from the only course load for the fall that fits in some sort of schedule. GAH.
Unedited and a mess, sorry.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Delicious!
- 70% cocoa hot chocolate topped with roasted hazelnut pieces
- lemon sherbet in crisp ginger baskets
- toasted coconut and apricot jam cookie bars
FEED ME.
- lemon sherbet in crisp ginger baskets
- toasted coconut and apricot jam cookie bars
FEED ME.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
stories in music.
My roommate went to an audition for a musical today, and for some reason, I got really excited. Her auditioning piece was "Bubbly" by Colbie Caillat: an overplayed, now mainstream song that is almost borderline bland in vocal inflections. But as we were listening to the song on YouTube, we were focusing on details - the small things that are constantly dismissed when the song comes on the radio or played for casual listening. After listening to the song a million times, the words were lost on me, it was the tune that got stuck in my head, every reverberation. After the song was smoothed out, I got into a music mode, and played Pandora for a few hours straight. Subconsciously, I was picking up on the words and the details, and not just listening because it sounded good (of course it sounded good, I would've pressed the thumbs down button if it didn't).
The thing about music is that it can be interpreted in many different ways. Not only that, but the lyrics of many songs are realistic - about love, loss, sadness, happiness. If you're nostalgic to begin with, listening to a song such as "Here's to the Night" by Eve 6 may bring you back to graduation night, or the one last hurrah before you and your best friends went your separate ways (college, for example). Or, maybe listening to "Better in Time" by Leona Lewis when you're upset over whatever heartbreak will remind you that you're not the only one that feels that way. Saving Jane's "Ordinary" tells the story of what a lot of people think of themselves, but can't put into words.
The magical thing about music is its ability to enchant. Regardless of whether you've experienced something as complex as love or not, there is a certain longing to understand and comprehend that emotion, even if it is foreign. Linkin Park's "Leave Out All the Rest" makes me think twice about what I want to be remembered for, and in those three minutes, I think about what I want to change in my life. Granted, those three minutes probably don't involve a deep thought process, but the idea that everyday, there is someone thinking about you (good or bad) jolts something deep within.
Of course, lyrics are only a small part of the music. Often overlooked and forgotten, the meaning behind the (sometimes) poetic words may change the song as a whole. A sad song with an upbeat tune makes you go, "WHAT!? Is this supposed to be happy or sad or...huh?!" Music is such a fun thing. Maybe its better not to over analyze it then, right?
The thing about music is that it can be interpreted in many different ways. Not only that, but the lyrics of many songs are realistic - about love, loss, sadness, happiness. If you're nostalgic to begin with, listening to a song such as "Here's to the Night" by Eve 6 may bring you back to graduation night, or the one last hurrah before you and your best friends went your separate ways (college, for example). Or, maybe listening to "Better in Time" by Leona Lewis when you're upset over whatever heartbreak will remind you that you're not the only one that feels that way. Saving Jane's "Ordinary" tells the story of what a lot of people think of themselves, but can't put into words.
The magical thing about music is its ability to enchant. Regardless of whether you've experienced something as complex as love or not, there is a certain longing to understand and comprehend that emotion, even if it is foreign. Linkin Park's "Leave Out All the Rest" makes me think twice about what I want to be remembered for, and in those three minutes, I think about what I want to change in my life. Granted, those three minutes probably don't involve a deep thought process, but the idea that everyday, there is someone thinking about you (good or bad) jolts something deep within.
Of course, lyrics are only a small part of the music. Often overlooked and forgotten, the meaning behind the (sometimes) poetic words may change the song as a whole. A sad song with an upbeat tune makes you go, "WHAT!? Is this supposed to be happy or sad or...huh?!" Music is such a fun thing. Maybe its better not to over analyze it then, right?
Saturday, December 6, 2008
how this started.
It has been years since I blogged. So long, in fact, that I don't even know the password to my Xanga. Why so long? And why start blogging again? Not sure about either of those. I'm generally not a strong advocate for anything, so I suppose I never saw reason to voice something that means nothing (or makes sense) to anyone but me. That's not to say I have opinions on things, I do; however, I don't usually broadcast them unless prompted to.
Yet, here I am, Saturday night, starting a new blog. This is either because I'm procrastinating or because I've realized that there is a possibility that my crazy thought process will make sense to someone. the grey between black and white is life, nothing more and nothing less. It may be about my personal life, my current activities, or even my opinion about hypothetical situations. Most likely, it'll end up containing more posts about my opinions on hypothetical situations, since that is the grey area that I speak of. But don't get your hopes up, if you're lucky, you'll get to read one or two a month (unless something dramatic happens dundundundun).
Picking a username: I was in the middle of researching information about the Millennial Generation for a thesis, and thought about the book "Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close" by Jonathan Safran Foer ( I am so technologically challenged that I can't even figure out how to underline). Nine year old Oskar, who lost his father in 9/11, goes on a journey through New York City looking for a key that his father had in a vase. Foer also incorporates an alternating story about Oskar's grandparents and their life in America after the fire bombing in Dresden. Highly suggested read! Oh, the point of the username was that horrible (and amazing) things happen every day, but only certain events really matter to us. We're human, and none of us can save the world. Our own path is our only concern. I'll elaborate later, but the point is that we each care about things that others most likely don't even know about. This blog is going to become my outlet on controversial things I have an opinion on, hence the username the grey between black and white.
This actually turned out to be longer than I expected. I was looking to write a few simple words on the name, and what can be expected in later posts, but go a... little carried away? Okay, off we go! Welcome into Julie's head, the grey between black and white.
Yet, here I am, Saturday night, starting a new blog. This is either because I'm procrastinating or because I've realized that there is a possibility that my crazy thought process will make sense to someone. the grey between black and white is life, nothing more and nothing less. It may be about my personal life, my current activities, or even my opinion about hypothetical situations. Most likely, it'll end up containing more posts about my opinions on hypothetical situations, since that is the grey area that I speak of. But don't get your hopes up, if you're lucky, you'll get to read one or two a month (unless something dramatic happens dundundundun).
Picking a username: I was in the middle of researching information about the Millennial Generation for a thesis, and thought about the book "Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close" by Jonathan Safran Foer ( I am so technologically challenged that I can't even figure out how to underline). Nine year old Oskar, who lost his father in 9/11, goes on a journey through New York City looking for a key that his father had in a vase. Foer also incorporates an alternating story about Oskar's grandparents and their life in America after the fire bombing in Dresden. Highly suggested read! Oh, the point of the username was that horrible (and amazing) things happen every day, but only certain events really matter to us. We're human, and none of us can save the world. Our own path is our only concern. I'll elaborate later, but the point is that we each care about things that others most likely don't even know about. This blog is going to become my outlet on controversial things I have an opinion on, hence the username the grey between black and white.
This actually turned out to be longer than I expected. I was looking to write a few simple words on the name, and what can be expected in later posts, but go a... little carried away? Okay, off we go! Welcome into Julie's head, the grey between black and white.
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