A Morning in the Finch Household

You may or may not be familiar with my dear Finch family. Whatever your case, I highly recommend brushing up on your knowledge of them before reading on: http://jblog08.blogspot.com/2009/03/finch-family.html


I shall begin this next segment with the second-to-last paragraph of the first segment. So, don't be confused.

The Finch family lived in a modest home right in the very middle of Fanghorn Avenue. The downstairs consisted of a parlor, kitchen, dining room, powder room, and a small cupboard for the placement of articles of warmth from the cold in the winter, which was located in the passage. Upstairs (the steps leading to and from which were located next-door to the aforementioned cupboard), were four bedrooms. One for Mr. and Mrs. Finch, one for Greta and Evelyn, one for Edward and Victor, and one for guests when guests came, but otherwise for collection overflow on behalf of Mr. Finch, Mrs. Finch, Greta, and Evelyn (all of whom would have rather kept all of each collection in his or her room, but ran out). Edward and Victor, wanting to share in the equal subdivision of the spare room, collected odds and ends precisely for the purpose of storing when no guests were around. Edward heartlessly collected many ounces of dust lying around the house (causing Mrs. Finch to keep her sanity in check in the most mundane respects of furniture dusting), and Victor had the clever idea of cutting out encyclopedia articles which he thought he might read in the future when he got around to it, (of course, Mr. Finch was not of the knowledge of this defacement) and putting them in spare jars which Evelyn discarded when any particular culture grew too big for it. This resulted in Victor not wanting to actually read the articles because to pull them back out again would render the entire time reading a time spent smelling nothing short of the most awful stench in the world, which was impossible to wash out of the jars. There was also a bathroom up stairs which everyone shared, though everyone complained considerably of everyone else taking much too long in the bathroom doing various and sundry preparations and primpings which were necessary to the party concerned with doing preparations and primpings, but were absolutely ridiculous to all who were affected by not being able to use the bathroom at the time they wished to.

It was on one such a morning that Greta was taking an especially lengthy time in the bathroom, because she felt she must brush her hair out as long as possible in order for it to be as long and silky as possible. The day before, her friend at school had let her borrow a very expensive hairbrush, telling her that the only way for her hair to be perfect was to brush it consistently for at least an hour. The three other siblings were outside the door as well. Edward was wrestling with Evelyn, asking her why and for what absurd reason she should think that girls need to be first.

“Why, they take longer to get ready, of course! Boys can do it in five minutes flat,” she reasoned, stamping her foot in front of her to hold her place in line. She pulled the rest of herself up in front of Edward.

Edward glared. “But that is the whole point! Why can’t we just get ready first, since we take such a short amount of time, and then you girls can take your sweet time afterwards, minus the banging and nagging.”

“Because,” Evelyn stuck her nose in the air, “when you go first, you DON’T take five minutes...you take hours!!”

Victor piped up, “Why, Evelyn, we are only showing you what it feels like to wait. If you didn’t take so long, this demonstration would certainly not be necessary.”

Evelyn was shoved back by Edward, and then shoved back farther still by Victor, so that she was at the back of the line. She scoffed. “You boys are just wasting time in there??”

Victor shrugged. “I usually read; quite often one of my Guinness Book of World Records or something of the sort.”

Edward added, “One time I opened the window, climbed down the side of the house, went for a relaxing swim, played in the mud, and then I climbed back up and took a real, well-deserved, lengthy bath because this time I was really messy. I should do that more often...”

Evelyn’s jaw dropped. “You...!” she squeaked presently. “I’m telling mum on you!”

“I had to clean the floor, of course, too,” Edward continued. “That was a bit of a downer; anti-climactic and whatnot. But other than that, it was quite fun. And when I came out, you and Greta had fallen asleep in front of the door with your towels as pillows!”

Evelyn’s eyes widened at the memory, and she quickly dropped to the floor, crawling between her brothers’ legs to get to the front of the line. Victor cried, “No!!” and crawled likewise to the front. Edward, appalled at being pushed to the back so quickly, tried to repeat the action. Though he ended up toppling his brother and sister over, rather than making a clean sweep of things, he resumed his spot as first in line.

“I don’t want to be after you if you are going swimming again!” Victor pouted.

“Well, I don’t want to be after YOU if you are going to read a giant book full of nonsense!” Edward shot back. “I mean, you do it anyway, but it is an unacceptable bathroom behavior.”

“My hair takes longer to dry than either of yours!” Evelyn continued to protest from the back of the line. “I simply must go first, or I shan’t survive the day.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “What has hair-drying go to do with anything?”

“A lot.”

“What, then?”

Evelyn wasn’t sure, but it was certainly a lot.

Edward and Victor were laughing so hard at Evelyn’s failure to come up with a good argument that they did not hear or see Mrs. Finch ascending the staircase. She only wore her hats in company or out in public, and without them she actually resembled a normal human being. She glided over to stand, looking down upon her children (except for Edward, who was a little taller than she was).

Mrs. Finch did not demand to know what the trouble was. Instead, she said: “Your distant cousin Robby Arbuckle is coming to see us, and stay in the spare room.”

Upon hearing this, the three children froze, and even Greta (who always listened in with great ears for doing so, but never acted like she heard anything) poked her half-brushed head out of the restroom. “What??” The four demanded in unison.

Against Solitude

You may be wondering..."if there is a part one to 'On Optimism', surely there must be a part two, but then again, Jessica is apt to defy logic on a regular basis."  First of all, HUMPH!!  Second of all, yes, there will be a part two.  I just actually have to sit down and write it, which I haven't done.  This next entry is a small writing assignment I completed over breakfast last Tuesday morning.

Before now I have greatly commended solitude as something which I enjoy enjoying.  But there is a downside.  There is probably a downside to everything, but most of those downsides I would rather not think about.  I will acknowledge that it is good to be honest and realistic on some downsides, especially if in doing so I am kept or keep someone else from harm, one way or another.  

So it is with solitude.  I can tell myself, "Oh, yes, I can live alone in the middle of nowhere.  I would enjoy it; I don't need people."  But, for one thing, I would have no idea whether I was being true to myself by saying that.  I have never tried living completely alone.  It might be nice for a while, but surely I would get lonely.  A second point is that even if I don't need people...what if people need me?  Not to think of myself in such a great light or anything.  The thing is that nobody may actually be aware that they need me, but they still do, somehow.  If it isn't my direct help, then it may be at least some subtle influence or another.  My goal is to lead as many people to Christ as possible while on this earth.  That is really what life is all about; everything else is about having fun and/or surviving, and then surviving only to have fun, or to hang on to life for some odd reason.  Some do, however, strive for their own lives so they may continue to keep their children alive and protect their wives and things like that.  

But what is the point of living if, when you die, you go to heaven?  Why do even Christians value their earthly lives?  Why do we do things like eat healthily and organically and avoid other things that don't severely hinder our life's course if we are going to die anyways, and when we die we have eternal life in Christ?  Without the answer, it all seemed so pointless.  I guess if you don't believe in God or heaven, and you believe that your only life here is on this earth, and when you die you go nowhere, then it makes sense.  To hold on to your life here as much as possible.

But what about Christians?  And the only answer that has satisfied me is this: life is all about using where God has placed you, using the tools and gifts he has blessed you with to lead everyone possible to him.  To spread the Gospel; to give everyone the hope of eternal life, and the chance to live in their own heaven-on-earth.  

Now I get it!  That is why I have always been hearing things like "Do EVERYTHING to the glory of God!"  It's not some cheesy Christian saying that Christians say.  It is absoltely true.  

Thus, here is my argument: what good is solitute if it goes agains the meaning of life?  Even if it's solitude with only one's family, what is the point of living in isolation?  If it is to hide from economic crisis and an extremely overbearing and nigh evil government...why?  To grow one's own food that is without the poisons that the FDA requires to be in all they approve?  Good enough reasons, except...for what?  Why?  What is the point of trying so hard to survive, if you have no opportunity to preach the Good News?  It is selfish, really.  Why did I want it?  I wanted it for me, and no one else. 

Sure, I could justify it by saying, "Well, while I live out in the middle of nowhere all by myself, I will write books, and those can lead people to Christ."  And that may very well be.  And there is nothing wrong with a little solitude.  Personally I would love to have a little country cottage on rolling hills with giant oak trees sprinkled here and there.  But I would want it nearby to a community.  I may be introverted, but I need people just as much as anybody else.  God created us as social beings.  He knew Adam could not just live on earth by himself.  Adam needed Eve not just to be "fruitful" with, but also (and more importantly) as a companion on earth.

Therefore I am against solitude with all my heart.  Being alone occasionally and in small doses is fine, but isolation?  No.  We were not created for isolation.       

The Finch Family

Once upon a time there was a family whose name was Finch.

Mrs. Finch was exceedingly fond of large hats, particularly the kinds with extravagant plumes in them. The bigger the hat and the bigger the plume was all the better for her. She was always on the lookout for hats, plumes, and hats with plumes which surpassed the ones she already owned in size. Her biggest fear was that someone in the world owned a hat and plume bigger than her biggest one, and that she would be put to terrible shame by this person, whoever it might be.

Mr. Finch appreciated bow ties, but only white ones with black polka dots, or black ones with white polka dots. You may think that there is not much variety in only liking bowties of those natures, which would make Mr. Finch rather boring in his like of bowties; but in fact there are many, many different types of black bowties with white polka dots and white bow ties with black polka dots.

Greta Finch was the eldest girl and the eldest child in the immediate Finch family. She had straight dark brown hair down to her thighs and light green eyes which always seemed to be focused elsewhere from the present. She appreciated two things: books, and reading them. If she was not reading, she was arranging her immense book collection or else deeply considering matters of books rather than paying attention to any sort of reality, except how reality pertained to books. That said, she was not the dreamy sort at all: to the contrary she was much more mournful of her situation in life and how it was not much like princess so-and-so who lived in such-and-such large castle and was married by prince whoever to carry on a life of bliss.

Edward Finch was very tall and was not much more than skin and bones. He possessed an affinity for being up and on top of things, and was frequently worrying whatever females were about by climbing all climbable anythings. He was a quiet lad who mostly kept to himself, though ate everything in sight and when he was not he was always wishing there was something in sight to be eaten.

Evelyn Finch had long, blonde, wavy hair and big dark brown eyes. She was always dressed all in black or very dark grey with a simple bow or two in her hair. She was an asker of accusing questions as well as a desirer of all she set her deep eyes on. Evelyn collected many, many different things. In fact, she had a collection of what must have been everything except for hats, plumes, bowties, and books. Her favorite collection was her sixteen jars of bacteria cultures, which she kept and fed as if they were her own pets.

Victor Finch wore very big, round glasses and liked to believe he was the number one most reliable source of all that there was to know in the world. If someone instructed him, he would rebuke the instructor and tell him otherwise, though what he assumed to be the truth was often a quite absurdly drawn conclusion. However, if he was able to find that the encyclopedia said otherwise (which he only consulted once a conversation had been had where he was not sure of something which he had just stated as fact, particularly if the person he stated it to disagreed), then he would slowly but surely wrap his head around the new idea and adopt it as his own and soon declare that he never thought otherwise.

The Finch family lived in a modest home right in the very middle of Fanghorn Avenue. The downstairs consisted of a parlor, kitchen, dining room, powder room, and a small cupboard for the placement of articles of warmth from the cold in the winter, which was located in the passage. Upstairs (the steps leading to and from which located next-door to the aforementioned cupboard), were four bedrooms. One for Mr. and Mrs. Finch, one for Greta and Evelyn, one for Edward and Victor, and one for guests when guests came, but otherwise for collection overflow on behalf of Mr. Finch, Mrs. Finch, Greta, and Evelyn (all of whom would have rather kept all of each collection in his or her room, but ran out of space). Edward and Victor, wanting to share in the equal subdivision of the spare room, collected odds and ends precisely for the purpose of storing when no guests were around. Edward, without giving much thought to it, collected many ounces of dust lying around the house (causing Mrs. Finch to keep her sanity in check in the most mundane respects of furniture dusting), and Victor had the clever idea of cutting out encyclopedia articles which he thought he might read in the future when he got around to it, (of course, Mr. Finch was not of the knowledge of this defacement) and putting them in spare jars which Evelyn discarded when any particular culture grew too big for it. This resulted in Victor not wanting to actually read the articles because to pull them back out again would render the entire time reading a time spent smelling nothing short of the most awful stench in the world, which was impossible to wash out of the jars. There was also a bathroom up stairs which everyone shared, though everyone complained considerably of everyone else taking much too long in the bathroom doing various and sundry preparations and primpings which were necessary to the party concerned with doing preparations and primpings, but were absolutely ridiculous to all who were affected by not being able to use the bathroom at the time they wished to.

All in all the Finch family lived their lives in the same way as you might live yours or I might live mine: with the sense that they are just simply living day by day as is best known to them, without giving much thought over to any sort of comparison with other families or other ways of life which may or may not be considered more normal or more abnormal. Did not the Finch family have friends? Surely. Did they spend time outside their home? Almost certainly. But those are other stories for other times.

Out of Control Feminism

There are a lot of things that bother me. I try not to lose my temper over them...well, at least not in public. But this is a blog, and my blog at that. I will now express my views of feminism. Bear with me here.

Feminism, to me, is a pretty stupid idea. All this "women's rights" stuff probably had good intentions in the beginning, but has gotten out of hand. Women are not equal to men--it's that simple! It is impossible for them to be so, unless they become men. And even after an operation and many steroids and testosterone pills, I have this feeling that a woman's brain would still work like a woman's brain. Men and women are very, very different. Sure, some women are more "tomboyish", and some men exhibit "feminine" qualities, though these days it is sad that sensitive, gentlemanly, chivalrous men are often confusedly perceived by our perverted society as being gay, when in fact they are far from it. Psychologically androgynous folks such as myself and a few of my friends are probably about as "gender-neutral" as you will find. But I still have my distinctly feminine personality traits, interests, talents, and thought patterns, besides being aware that I am a lady and sticking to that concept (have I ever mentioned how much I love dressing up and getting very pretty for a nice occasion?). And, though I am very athletic, I have a woman's body, which is genetically much weaker than a man's. The same thing with a guy friend of mine...androgynous, but distinctly masculine (the good kind of masculine), psychologically and physically.

No feminist movement is going to change these giant genetic differences between men and women. Still, some things are changing, and it is very upsetting. Women are becoming aggressive, and men are becoming passive. I never understood why, when I was younger, I would mention that found a guy attractive, and my public schooled girl friends asked whether I had asked him out, and if I hadn't, they suggested that I should. Why? If he isn't interested in me enough to ask me out, why should I ask him out? And the reason I get is that "it really puts a lot of pressure on the guy to ask the girl out", this from both guys and girls.  Well, you know what? BE A MAN and get over the pressure! Women are becoming the men because they seem to get over that pressure pretty quickly. And dating is just one scenario (which, for the record, I would not have considered anyways, no matter who did the askings-out).

Another situation: in a household which would be considered "sexist", typically a woman is not demeaned to some object which the man won like a trophy and can do what he likes to with. Yes, maybe back a few hundred years ago it was common. But since....oh, when was it, King Arthur's day?...the treatment of women has gotten steadily better. Of course, there have always been insecure, power-hungry "men" who like to lord over their wives and abuse them in a variety of different ways. But I have grown up in a household where my father is the man of the house and my mother willingly submits. She is not in any way his slave. She has not lost any of her identity. I don't know why feminists think that this is what happens when a woman submits to her husband, as if submission has a terribly negative connotation. Our house is extremely well-balanced, compared to many unbalanced egalitarian households where there is a constant struggle to maintain equality in every little area. My mother is a housewife and a home school teacher; my father owns several different enterprises, big and small, and he is the breadwinner of the family. My mother, siblings, and I help out with some of the businesses from time to time, but the majority is done by my dad. He does not mind this, and works hard so that my mom does not have to go work outside the home. My parents make decisions together, but my dad has the final say. My mom is in charge of necessity shopping, so she handles most of that money. Never has there been an argument about who is supposed to be wearing the pants or about whose right it is to have something or to not do something. Almost all of my friends have families exactly like mine, and I intend to submit to my husband when I marry him and prevail to be "A Woman of Valor."  (for those of you know are scratching your heads, that is a reference to Proverbs 31:10-31. <<--Click on it.) 

I am not very well read-up on the history of feminism, that is true. I have never really wanted to be; "girl power" is a highly unattractive concept to me. Basically what I mean is that I do not like how feminism has evolved. Sure, it has good points and I am glad for many of the opportunities I have today. (However, voting is a silly, unimportant little game which I do not care to take part in ever again.) But I personally feel that feminism has gotten way out of hand since the '60s or so. From my limited understanding of Feminism, I believe I recall the cause of it starting more in the '40s, when men went off to war and women ended up having to go to work in order to earn enough for themselves and usually their children. Then somewhere down the line after a bit of a battle for better worker compensation, women realized that they did not need men in order to make a living. That was what sparked the line of feminism which I don't appreciate--the putting-down and hatred of being a housewife and of accepting one's actual femininity. It has gotten very out of hand, and gender roles are getting knocked around as if they are of no importance. 

I am not very fond of the idea of women in the military. I mean, obviously those women can do what they want to and I am not stopping them. But when the idea that women must have equal rights in serving in the military goes so far as to cause the next draft to draft women as well, I am greatly opposed to it. I guess, though, that in some areas I am not as anti-feminist as I like to think I am. I agree that if a woman holds the same job as a man, she should get paid the same as that man. I'm not going to go parading this view up and down the streets with big signs or go sending petitions to congress or anything like that, though. I am not a passionate feminist...more like an extremely passive one, and only on a few areas.

Still, I am not feminist in a lot of things I believe. In my sociology and psychology classes I have had conversations (sparked by the material) with both guys and girls who seem to have a great misunderstanding of men and women's places in a household. The girls believed that for a woman to be a housewife was meaningless and was squashing her identity as a person into oblivion. They believed it was pointless, old-fashioned, and absurd that I want to be one should I get married and have children rather than pursuing a career. The guys expressed that they wouldn't want their wife lounging around the house all day while they as the male worked their butts off to bring home money. I think both views are extremely short-sighted, but nobody wanted to listen to me very much. But I turn around to my friends I have known for my entire life or nearly so, and they all agree with me. My girl friends want to be housewives, mothers, and teachers, and my guy friends want to have the careers and bring home the bacon (turkey bacon, that is). And that has been the natural order since the beginning of time, really. There has to be balance in the household. Someone needs to be the head, the breadwinner, the stable rock, and the man of the relationship; someone needs to be the cleaner, the nurturer, the caretaker, and the woman of the relationship. Equality, in my opinion, is overrated and misunderstood in this sense. Also, as long as I didn't have children to care for I would be working outside the home to contribute to the income, though I would want to have time for cooking and cleaning so that my husband has a comfortable place to come home to and just let go and relax after a hard day at work. I wouldn't want, especially after kids, my husband to come home to TV dinners or takeout once again, kids running around wild all over the place because they learn no manners at school, and the house being a wreck all the time. And after I have kids, I imagine I will still keep myself busy in my spare time writing or composing, and/or perhaps I will have created some sort of passive income. Whatever I end up doing, my identity is going to be far from gone (yes…even *gasp* if I take his last name! What a surprise!). What I do isn’t who I am. I am what I am. I believe that I am what I think. I find my identity in that. Oh, and I would love to be known as the wife of my husband who is a mother to his children. I don’t know why anyone has a problem with that.  

~Jessica

Wait....what do you mean by "family"?

My siblings and I are staying at my grandparent's for a few days, and tonight my great-grandmother took Marck, Robert, Grammy, Papa, Aunt Eleanor, and I out to eat pizza.  While we were eating another family walked in.  At least, I guess it was a family.

It was a mom, a dad, and two boys.  One of the boys looked to be about five, and the other one may have been eleven or so.  The eleven-year-old was playing a game on his cell phone, and the five-year-old was playing one of those Nintendo DS carry-around things as they walked in.  The parents ordered and the kids were still playing their games.  I could hear the music from the games halfway across the restaurant. 

This playing continued as the older boy and the parents went to the salad bar and got salads.  Eating and playing, playing and eating.  There was barely any talking from the table at all.  Finally the older boy put his phone away, and a while later, the mom told the younger boy that it was time for the game to go bye-bye for now since the pizza was almost there.  The younger boy was on the verge of a fit, and got a little talking-to from his mother.  The rest of the time he was squirmy (more than a typical five-year-old), moving all around his chair and looking very bored as he too sporadic bites of his pizza.  The older boy brought out his cell phone again about halfway through their meal.  I couldn't hear or see the family talking at all.  It was just sad.

Now, maybe this family goes out to dinner all the time and this was just another meal for them.  But when our family sits down all together for a meal (which isn't too common) we like to actually spend time with each other while doing so.  Going out to eat is something we don't do that often (because of the cost and because of the non-health-benefits associated with it), but when we do, it is a fun family activity.  I like my family and I like being with them.  Sure, I went through a phase when I was on the younger side of the teen years when I would bring a book whenever we went out to eat because I guess I wanted to read more than I wanted to be with my family or something like that.  Hey, at least books are better for your than portable video games.  

I just wonder what the point of having a family is if you go through life like that....ignoring each other.  "Who are those big people again?  Yeah, those embarrassing ones who wake me up at five in the morning to get on the bus, and who magically place food in front of me at dinner time and remind me to brush my teeth at night.  Who are those little people I keep tripping over?  I don't know, but when I come into contact with them it is incredibly annoying.  And that semi-big person?  I don't know who he is either, but he doesn't seem to like me very much."

Siblings grow up and don't even know each other, even though they should be best friends.  Parents don't know their children and aren't involved in their lives enough to recognize if the kids are getting into stuff they shouldn't.  The kids who suck their brains out playing video games all day become ADHD, and the only solution seems to be to medicate them and/or let them play more video games.  The kids also become very wonderful at developing surface relationships and terrible at developing deep ones.

It is just so sad.  I feel sorry for that family and every single one like it.  It must be awful to go through life like that.  And so what if both your parents work and they provide a big house for you to live in, millions of toys (excuse me, video games and movies), drive you around in nice cars, can afford for you a brand new car when you turn 16, and you can eat at nice restaurants every night?  What is the point of all that if you all hate each other because you hardly know one another?  If I had to give up my relationships with my mom, dad, and brothers just so I could have the life of luxury that everyone wishes they had at some point(s) or another, I wouldn't even think twice about doing it.  As long as I have my family I wouldn't mind a dumpster.  Okay, yes I would.  Maybe I should have used a different analogy.  A really bad looking lean-to shelter thing.  NOT a dumpster.  And not a port-a-potty.  

My parents have said that I can live with them forever if I want to.  Of course, not in the loser-who-lives-in-his-parent's-basement-and-plays-online-all-the-time kind of way.  In the way where I (eventually) will have a job/career around here someplace, so I can contribute to the house expenses, and I will help my mom keep the house as I do now.  Even if my brothers marry and move out (which I don't want them to till I get married, but in case that doesn't work out), I will stay with my parents, more than likely.  I guess if I get a job somewhere not close by I will have to move out, but I really don't want to live by myself, or with a bunch of girls.  I would want to live with a man, because otherwise I wouldn't feel safe.  So the only solutions are to live with a family wherever I move to, or get married.  Or just bloody stay here ;).  I don't know.  God will light my path when I get to that point.  Really, I want to only have two families in my life - the one I am living in now, and the one I start in the future when I get married.  

And I never, ever, ever, ever, EVER want to lose contact with my friends.  You guys are the greatest!!!  

~Jessica   

Lead us not into temptation.

I was reading, just at this very moment practically, Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis.  Be quiet....yes, I am still reading it.  I happen to take my time and read millions of books all at the same time because I have ADD tendencies when it comes to books I want to read (besides being a slow reader which is INCREDIBLY annoying).  So no questions about not having finished it yet.  That said, I was reading it and he just casually mentioned this which I will now quote:  "Each has done something to himself which, unless he repents, will make it harder for him to keep out of the rage next time he is tempted, and will make the rage worse when he does fall into it."

Now isn't that interesting!  (You:  "What is interesting?  I don't see anything.")  He does not talk any more about it, but it stood out to me...........tempted into rage.  Yes, isn't that an interesting way to look at it?  Of course, it may be that I've had too much ice cream and too little sleep in the past few days and it's just me.  But I thought it was very interesting, as you can probably tell since I keep saying it is.  

The thing is that when I think of temptation, I think of things like lust and everything that goes along with it, if you understand what I mean.  I guess Christians see that as the biggest temptation and the biggest sin (though it is forgiven, since we all know the only non-forgiven sin is blasphemy), but anger is something that we, as humans, have a harder time with but don't even realize.  An angry person isn't scorned as perverted.  Sure, if that anger is taken to the level of murder, then that would be another story.  But what about just simple anger?  It comes out all the time, every day, usually to the people you care about most.  And as I look at it now, of course it is a temptation to be angered at someone.  It's not something uncontrollable that happens.  I believe to be angry is a conscious decision.  Say your sibling, parent, spouse, kid, or whoever, does something that really upsets you.  Maybe they borrowed something of yours and lost it or even broke it.  On top of that, it was very important to you that you have this whatever-thing on a particular day for a particular thing.  The temptation is to be angry at them and start a fight, consisting mainly of blaming and putting down this person.  It is the easiest thing to do.  It almost feels good to let it out on someone.  But you could choose not to be angry.  I think that being upset and/or disappointed is unavoidable, but anger is not the only way to deal with those feelings.  Surely the person is sorry and asked for your forgiveness.  If he or she didn't realize that they broke it, you can even choose whether to confront them, as confrontation really could only make them feel bad.  However, sometimes it is necessary as you need to kindly ask of them not to do it next time you let them borrow something.  (Of course, children should be lectured and often times punished, as it is part of their bringing-up.)

But thinking about anger as being a temptation is a very interesting idea (there I go again saying it is interesting).  It makes me want to give in to it less.  It seems like a better reason than all the other unwritten reasons that I can't remember that I had for trying to not be angry.  I can't quite describe why I think this is such a fascinating view on things, but I just do.  I guess it means everything bad is a temptation.  And it is, I just never thought about it before!  You can covet, or you can choose not to.  You can be tempted to not honor your father and mother, but you can choose not to.  Stealing is another one of those temptations that are more obvious-seeming in terms of thinking of them as actually being temptations, as is murder.  Even stuff not necessarily in the Bible like laziness.  It's tempting to be lazy, I just never thought of it that way.  I just thought of laziness as something which gets me nowhere but for some reason I am naturally talented at.  

Just a thought.

~Jessica  

Hmph, Finally!

Well, it is about time, that is all I have to say! And all that grumbling I did last night. "Oh, good grief, guys....it's not going to snow! They say it will and it never does." Either that or it snows half an inch and everything gets cancelled. One flake on the ground and the entire triangle goes into a panic about stocking up on food and snow shovels. There is an entire storage building somewhere full of salt to put on the roads so that nobody slips on the one flake. Northerners must think we are so wimpy. I think we are wimpy. I mean, yes snow and ice are dangerous and yes we down here in the south don't consider it a worthy enough investment to buy materials suitable for the snow since we only get a significant amount every five years or so. But still.

Besides all that, snow is beautiful. I woke up this morning, went into the kitchen, happened to glance out the window, and I saw white. "Well, then, I was wrong...." I said, scoffing and humphing more than what was surely my fair share. I still haven't been out in it. Actually I am about to go and sled some, I think. I've just been inside being cozy, reading, researching, talking with parents, etc. We watched the inauguration. Now THAT is something lots of fun to do while wearing sweats, drinking hot chocolate, and looking outside at the birds and flurries. I was worried that the music at the beginning...the Appalachian Spring arrangement by John Williams thing.... would be too much to my liking and then I would have to deny myself the privilege of downloading it since I have boycotted the whole ceremony. Thank goodness it wasn't that impressive. Nice, easy-listening-in-the-elevator-ish, but hardly outstanding.

Alrighty, I will take a break now to go sledding. I'll write more after a word from these asterisks:

**********

I have returned.

We walked down to the pond, stopping by Catherine's house on the way. The snow is good enough for making a nice snow ball now. We sledded a bit at the pond, and I tried to build a snow fort, but I didn't make much progress because NOBODY was helping me. After being at the pond we decided to walk down the street to some body's yard that has a big hill on it. We always went down the hill when we were younger (in the days where it actually snowed like this once or twice a year, every year). This year we decided that since we were all teenagers now, we would be like the teenagers back then who would make lots of cool bumps and turns. We manufactured one bump which, to our great surprise, worked well! After succeeding, we walked down to the new part of that neighborhood and tried to sled on the hill in the yard of the model home. Nobody was at the model home, but the outside speakers were playing classical music. I never thought I would get to sled while listening to classical music. But I still haven't. The snow was too deep. But now I have something great to aspire to--listening to classical music as I sled.

We finally hiked back home, to find out that a friend of ours had been calling and wanted her dad to bring she and her brothers over to our house so we could all play in the snow together. Her dad has not made a decision about that yet, so we are all sitting around wondering whether to clean up the house a bit or not.

I have been thinking a lot, and then I thought about what I have been thinking. It seems as though I can never dwell on the present. It's either thinking about what is going to happen in the future or thinking about things that happened in the past. It isn't as if I am discontent with the present. I don't think I am. I hope I'm not. And I concentrate enough to get things done. But is my mind really somewhere else all the time?

I don't know. There are plenty of things that I do where I don't think about-or wish I was actually-doing something else. That is usually just something like playing piano or cooking. Cleaning the bathrooms makes me wish I was doing something else, and writing stories makes me feel like I should be doing something else. If I am reading for school a lot of the time my mind will start to wander and I will either think of how nice it would be to be young and free again, or what my future life will be like...where I will live when I'm married and how we'll do things...UGH. Now is not the time to think about what can't be, nor is it the time to think about things I will have plenty of time to think about when the time comes.

Anyways, I need to get on with stuff. There probably won't be water polo tomorrow, and I don't even know if a significant amount will melt before Thursday so I can go to the Hawks-NRCA game. It might be the only basketball game of the season I get to go to. GOSH I am so tired. I'll talk to you all later!

~Jessica

Habits are Habits

Before I get on with the rest of the post, here are the songs you guys failed to guess....

3. "Eveline" - Nickel Creek

4. "Tangerine" - Led Zeppelin

5. "Why Can't This Be Love?" - Van Halen

9. "Sweetie" - Josh Rouse

12. "Where the Streets Have no Name" - U2

14. "Our Love" - Amy Grant

15. "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" - Sweeny Todd Soundtrack

17. "Little Green" - Joni Mitchel

19. "Next Year" - Foo Fighters

20. "Don't Forget Me (When I'm Gone)" - Glass Tiger

Okay, on to other matters.

Here is a thought for ya - eating bad is like watching pornography.

YES, that sounds extreme, but it really is a good association, if I do say so myself.  So let's say there is this guy who is 19 or 20 and he is watching pornography.  Not addictively, but not with any plan to stop any time soon either, perhaps he doesn't really think about it.  Then one day, he says, "oh, it is fine now.  It is not going to hurt anything because I am not married.  Once I get married, I will stop so that my relationship with my wife is the center focus and pornography does not hurt anything."  And then suppose I have been eating carelessly, which I often do, often justifying it with the common swimmer-ism "I can eat everything I want to because I burn a days worth of food off in one workout!".  Besides that excuse that is limited to, well, swimmers, I can also think, "Well, I am young now.  When I get married and pregnant I will then eat healthy so my baby gets proper nutrients.  But until then it doesn't matter."

There are two reasons why it does matter.  If you watch porn, it sticks in your mind.  It is there forever, and even if you forget, it will probably come up later.  Bad food stays with you forever, too.  Eventually you get to the point where you cannot digest all the fats, so they are stored, and fat cells as well.  They will come back to haunt you and some things could be harmful to your baby.

The other reason is that by the time you are married/pregnant, you will be addicted and it will be almost impossible to stop, even if you know it is best to.  

That is why it is just as important to be as careful with what I put in my mouth as with what I "put in" my eyes.  My mom thought I was kind of crazy for buying a prepregnancy book today from Barnes and Noble.  "Making plans we don't know about?" my dad asked.  Well, yes and no.  I got it mainly because I am interested in health/pregnancy/midwife stuff and this was the only thing there I really wanted besides a little herbal medicine handbook.  Okay, that is a lie.  I always want to buy the whole bookstore!  But I told myself I wanted to spend my giftcard on health-related books only because I have plenty of novels and animal books already that I haven't even gotten around to reading yet.  That said, besides wanting the book for educational-occupational purposes, I thought it would be a good book to read now so that I can go ahead and change any bad habits I have gotten into now rather than right before I get married.

Just one of those thoughts...

~Jessica   

Television's Negative Effects on Young Minds

Our present society consists of children who are constantly being entertained by images played across screens. Once a child reaches the end of his or her senior year of highschool, on average he or she has spent 11,000 hours in school and 15,000 hours in front of the screen (Costa 55). T. Berry Brazelton and Stanley I. Greenspan state in their book The Irreducible Needs of Children that “there’s a need to protect children from the overuse of TV. … When people worry about TV, the focus is on content, which is a problem, but the greater insult is the passivity” (128). Melissa Ruth, a developmental psychology professor at McMaster University, explains that “it’s not about what’s happening when a kid is watching television—it’s about what’s not happening” (qtd. in Muhtadie A1). States Jane E. Brody, “Watching television fosters development of brain circuits, or ‘habits of mind’, that result in…aggressiveness, lower tolerance levels and decreased attention spans, in lieu of developing language circuits in the brain’s left hemisphere” (F7). The brain is not making the connections it needs to while watching television, and as a result, children who watch an excessive amount of television can have lower grades, less of an imagination and can even run the risk of becoming unhealthily overweight. Parents need to monitor and regulate their children’s television watching habits so as to enforce and encourage cognitive abilities, motor skills, and learning motivation in these growing beings.

To state the obvious, thinking is critical for everyone. Furthermore, how an adult thinks generally relies on how he learned to think as a child. What type of schooling did he have? It makes a large difference in what a child is interested in, as well as how he behaves and thinks, depending on whether the child attended public school, private school, a Montessori school or if he was home schooled, among other options. The same statement goes for how a child chooses spend his free time, or how his free time activities are chosen for him. While an activity like reading promotes literacy, critical thinking, and imagination, watching television promotes nothing. A child does not think while watching TV. Instead, he absorbs.

To summarize Mary G. Burke, television is a passive experience, and while children’s eyes are fixated on the screen, countless things are not achieved cognitively. Children are not solving everyday problems because they are not interacting with any causes of the problems, such as other children whom they must get along with, sticky situations that they must get out of, or instances that call for the child to be calm and confident. Burke also touches on the idea that children are barely engaging in enough conversation with their parents, and what conversation there is is rarely deep or significant (50).

“Good learning and good problem-solving require active involvement and persistence,” explains Jane M. Healy. “Many people intuitively feel that exposure in early childhood to a great deal of television may create passive learners” (201). In this case, children will expect information to be presented to them but will not be very familiar with other learning essentials such as critical thinking and active problem-solving. “Children with less developed cognitive skills may prefer passive, nondemanding forms of entertainment to active, demanding ones. Television presents vivid, moving images; books and newspapers demand reader-generated imagery and are sketchier in terms of visual detail.” The more television that is watched by children, the more addicted they get to the passive state their brain assumes. Also, the children will be less likely to want to read, do puzzles, or put much effort into homework, as those sorts of activities require the brain to be actively applied (Krosnick, Anand and Hartl 89).

Obesity is presently at an all-time high and steadily rising. One of the main reasons for this most likely is television watching in excess. According to Jane E. Brody: “A child glued to the tube is sitting still, using the fewest calories of any activity except sleeping. Such children get less exercise than those who watch less television, and they see many more commercials for unhealthful foods and beverages. They also have more opportunity to consume such foods than do children who are out playing” (F7).
Unregulated television time means more time that the child spends sitting and eating and less time engaging in physical play, so the he runs the risk of becoming overweight. Also, while watching television with commercial breaks, children are seeing advertising for unhealthy food, which they then beg their parents for. The parents purchase the food, and children consume it while watching still more television. This is a serious health issue. Most parents say they want to help their children overcome or avoid this problem, but few do anything about it.

While in front of the television, children spend their time watching others perform physical tasks while they themselves learn nothing except how to sit and stare. Television is not an environment, it is not even an environment stimulus, so children cannot be expected to be able to explore and learn.

According to Mary G. Burke, “Children watching TV aren’t using their hands in three dimensions,” and they need to learn how to do many different physical, hands-on activities ranging from “clapping games to building, banging, weighing, molding, digging, stirring and simply touching, with a variety of materials.” She goes on to say that “these activities are necessary to sensory-motor integration. … TV and computer screens restrict development to a flat, two-dimensional surface” (50). If children, to address the extreme, do not know how to move, then they simply sit there. We can expect nothing but for them to join the obesity epidemic.

Excessive television watching decreases curiosity and learning motivation. Paraphrasing Mary G. Burke, children lose sense of their own imagination and creativity because of so much TV exposure, and resort to acting out scenes or potential scenes from their favorite shows rather than creating their own characters and situations (50). S. Eckstein states, “New electronic toys encourage children to get back to their screens by moving or ‘talking’ in response to what’s happening on their tied-in TV shows or DVDs” (qtd. in Alliance 22). Imagination has become foreign to children, and they above everyone else desperately need it, as imagination assists in their thinking and problem-solving skills that carry on all through life.

Parents need to moderate television watching. It is important to do so because children have very little self-control. It is a high recommendation that televisions are not placed in children’s bedrooms, to say the least. Additionally, Jane E. Brody says: “Half of American households have three or more [televisions]. In addition to the family or living room, there are often televisions in each bedroom, the kitchen, the basement and even the bathroom and garage. With access to television wherever children may be, it is hard for parents to control the amount and content to what they watch” (F7).
However, there is still hope. Parents have the power to set rules in regard to television watching. They have the power to put time limits on day-to-day viewing, lay boundaries on what and when their children watch, and even eliminate extra unnecessary televisions. T. Berry Brazelton and Stanley I. Greenspan announce that “an hour [of television] a day is realistic. But if we’re talking about an ideal amount, I would try to reduce TV to half an hour a day during the school week and an hour a day or maybe two hours on the weekends” (129). Television, in curbed amounts, can actually be quite harmless. Very few people in this world are willing to completely give up the television(s) in their homes. Nonetheless, while totally going cold-turkey is understandably unreasonable for most, cutting down on the time that children—or whole families—spend watching television is not.

What television does to the bodies and minds of children is a serious issue that is commonly addressed but also commonly ignored. It is very important to see that childhood is a time when children are growing, both cognitively and physically. Television seems to put this growth on hold, and in excess can even stunt it. It appears that television also rids children of the imagination, creativity and curiosity that are such a marvel of childhood. If children cannot control themselves in their watching, then their parents need to step up to this task. The effort will be for the good of not only the children, but the whole family as well. “Our time isn’t organized around TV schedules,” says John Bank on his family’s decision to toss the TV ten years ago. “We spent more time talking, exercising, playing games, and doing hobbies, and there’s no more frantic rush to finish homework ‘before my show is on’” (5). Children’s corporeal state, problem-solving skills, school performance and imagination will all benefit greatly from a reduction of television time. They may whine and complain about the new rules at first, should parents decide to set them but, in the long run, will be grateful and more happily balanced.

Mindlessness

There are certain things I love doing, that I just cannot bring myself to put on my “interests” or “hobbies” list. I’m not embarrassed. That’s ridiculous. But…there is some reason or another. Things like: clipping my nails, blow drying my hair, driving, dancing outside in the middle of the night, and being alone in complete quiet.

Ultimately I suppose it comes down to mindlessness. I really appreciate it. That sounds bad…shouldn’t I really like stretching my cognitive abilities? Well, I do. There’s no doubt about that. I enjoy feeling like the gears in my brain are really chugging away (if gears do that…you know what I mean…perhaps I am getting my imagery mixed up, but whatever). But I feel like my brain is like that all the time. It’s as if I’m running endlessly, never taking a break to just sit down and catch my breath, to let my muscles rest. Sure, if I sit down for a long enough time, I get antsy again, and get up and run. But rests are wonderful things.

Clipping my nails, filing my nails…it’s the epitome of mindlessness, in my opinion. I just do it. I’m doing something physical, working on something, and thinking about nothing. I wish I had more nails, or just more activities that were like clipping nails. Watching TV or playing video games just don’t do it for me. I get really wrapped up in television or movies, and when I play video games, I constantly am feeling like I should be doing something else. Clipping my nails is of such benefit to me and others…makes it easier to play guitar and piano, preventing myself from bending the nails back when they’re wet, makes them nicer-looking, and puts a stop to any lethal scratching I may inflict during water polo (you can thank me in the comments section).

I also like things like showering and shaving my legs. Sorry if that’s TMI for some people, but you must understand that I just like that mindless time. Because doing stuff that takes no brain leaves my brain to be opened. I come up with my best ideas for songs, stories, businesses, et cetera, while lathering my hair, getting soap in my eyes, or making funny shapes with my shaving cream (I am really a pro at making many different sculptures as I squirt the shaving cream out…I entertain myself very well). The problem with coming up with such a huge wave of ideas is that you can’t really document any of them in the bathtub. I suppose I could take all my hair that falls out and twist them into a musical staff and music notes, and write down ideas with my shaving cream on the walls…but that would take a lot longer than it would if I just finished the shower, wouldn’t it? Yeah. *sigh* Plus not being able to really read music, as well as my hair having a tendency to just curl up after a while, present problems. Shaving cream likes to melt.

Whatever.

I like dancing, that’s a given. I don’t think I’ve met a girl who doesn’t. I really like it when guys like dancing, too. It was pretty awesome to see all the guys who showed up at the cotillion-style dance class at the homeschool conference. It was even more awesome to see the very few guys who were AMAZING. It let me hope for my generation. Perhaps I will marry a guy who will go dancing with me!

As for dancing outside in the middle of the night, I’d say it is the epitome of freedom…so I don’t know why I just told the whole world I do it. Might as well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. But I do it because the night is stimulating; the air is clear, crisp, and electrifying. No human is watching. The moonlight shines down like a single spotlight…the stars are my audience, the cool grass is my stage, the crickets and the frogs are my music. I dance without a care in the world. I get warm and breathless, my muscles begin to feel strained, and the beads of sweat begin to surface on my brow. The soft breeze cools me, and I want nothing else but to stay out there forever…

Death is just the easy way to escape. The weather recently has reminded me about this story about a boy and a girl. Simple enough, I suppose. They grow older and fall in love. The boy is poor, the girl is rich. While she goes away to school for her later teen years, the boy, a couple years older, determines to spend the time when they are separated in hard labor, working to make enough to support her. Of course, he knows what she’s used to and is willing to do whatever he can to get as close to matching it as possible. When she comes back from school, three or four years later, he is proud of himself. They meet, and she seems preoccupied. He plans to come over to her house later and propose. He does, but he finds her in the parlor talking with another man—a rich one—who has his arm around the girl. The girl announces, slightly embarrassed and grimly, that she and the rich man are engaged. The boy falls into devastation, and that’s a very understate-ish understatement. He had worked all these years, FOR HER. And now what? She rejects him. Unintentionally, but he can never have her now. He never even tries again. He just crawls into a hole, gives up. However, he’s developed a habit of working hard. In ten years, he’s pretty well off. He’s been keeping track of the girl now. She married the other man and they moved to a house on the lake. One night, the husband leaves for a business meeting. The girl is at home alone. She goes out to enjoy the moonlit night, and comes back into her dark living room. Something in the shadows moves—it is the boy, now fully a man, dressed nicely. His eyebrows are turned down. In his hands is a pistol. The girl is shocked. Her voice trembles as they talk. His is calm and confident. He thinks he wants her love…but in that conversation, he realizes that all he wants is for her to know what he did for her, what he always wanted, and how she carelessly and heartlessly ripped his chest opened, pulled his heart out, and threw it out the window where it was driven to the bottom of the river. The husband comes back home. The man confronts the husband and shoots him soon after. The girl screams, asking what the man wants from her. Now the man comes to his senses…he’s only hurt her more. She hurt him, but he swore long ago he would never hurt her. He’s gone back on the promise. His life is turmoil, and the moment is happening so fast around him, he feels dizzy. With quaking hands he turns the gun on himself. It would make things better for the girl if he was gone as well. He shoots himself in the head. What he doesn’t know is that he’s hurt the girl even more than he could ever imagine. The girl is confused, bewildered…this was not what was supposed to happen this evening! All she can see, though, is what is right in front of her, and that’s any meaning in her life now has surely vanished, and vanished tragically. Impulsively, she grabs the pistol from the man, lets out one last sob…and shoots herself.

It’s not supposed to be that easy. That is not bliss; that is not escape. It’s just tragedy. Naivety, short-sightedness. People commit suicide every day, feeling surely that once their souls have escaped the world, everything will be okay…

I don't mean to leave you on such a negative note. No, I'm not feeling suicidal. Far from it! I was just illustrating something with my little story. Now I shall go and love my life some more!

Can I Say Something About Lurking?

My next poll should be on this: Which is worse?

1. Having a blog and never posting
2. Having a blog, never posting, but wanting people to read it anyways
3. Having a blog, never posting, but lurking around on other people's blogs
4. Having a blog, posting very occasionally, and only logging on to see if you have comments
5. Having a blog, posting very occasionally, logging on to see if you have comments, and responding to them
6. Having a blog, posting very occasionally, logging on to see if you have comments, and responding to them ONLY and OFTEN, never bothering to go check out anybody else's blog, but obviously expecting people to check out yours
7. Having a blog, and posting 3 times a day, never even giving your readers a chance to read all of them, therefore dooming your chances of being "heard"
8. Not having a blog (sad face)
9. Having a blog, and trashing other bloggers on it in an unintentionally convicting way...

Oops, that's me.

Yeah, sorry. I just was thinking about this, and I'm not pointing any fingers, because anybody who I'd be pointing fingers at wouldn't navigate away from his own blog to read this anyway. :P This is all in fun and games...I like poking at people's habits. It's fun. People are so interesting with all their quirks... :)

The Top 50 "Stupidest" Personality Types

The other day I was thinking. Well, I mean, I do that a lot…I guess everyone does from time to time. Well, most everyone.

You see, as a matter-of-fact, I was thinking about why tabloids are always doing features like “Top 50 Hottest Celebrities”, as if I really cared. And then I thought, well, why don’t they devote a whole issue to the “Top 50 Stupidest People in the World” or something. That would really grab my attention.

I mentioned this idea to my dad and he suggested I should do it myself. After all, it would be good practice if I really did decide to become a journalist or something. But then it came to mind that, as much fun as I make of people, I really don’t want to outright offend anyone. So I’m going to go a slightly different path:

THE TOP 50 "STUPIDEST" PERSONALITY TYPES

*ahem*

50. PEOPLE THAT WORSHIP CELEBRITIES
Seriously, this bugs me quite badly. They’re just people that are somehow more artistically talented than you (more or less) and so somehow they are your roll model and forever and ever you shall worship the very ground they walk on, should you ever take a stroll down Hollywood Boulevard or Rodeo Drive. Ugh.

49. OVERLY VAIN PEOPLE
One night my dad, my brother and I were behind this car carrying two college-age girls. At every stop light they would pull down their visors and would thus beautify themselves. We would have to honk at them to tell them when the light was green each time. Once they started moving, they would not put the visors back up at first, and would weave all around the road, one time going as far as to run another car off. This happened at about three or four lights. By that time I decided that I would write a whole movie about them. But that’s another story.

48. UNIMAGINATIVE PEOPLE
I don’t know what it is with these people. They love pre-arranged activities and always ridicule people that would rather spend their time being creative. They’re conformists because they can’t think for themselves. Which brings me to number…

47. SQUARES
They’re obsessed with being popular and with what everyone else thinks. If they’re girls, all they talk about is makeup, Abercrombie, boys and “o-mi-gosh-did-you-see-Dee-with-Josh???” If they’re guys, I don’t know much but I do know a square guy when I see him and he’s immediately written off my list of guys I want to marry.

46. NEGATIVE PEOPLE
What ever happened to thinking on the bright side? My dad calls these people, “Battery Drainers”, because they drain you of all energy. If they aren’t negative about themselves, they’re negative about you. I used to be one of these people and I drove myself crazy. “Oh, I guess I’m not very pretty.” “You should stop shopping at Target and start shopping at Macy’s.”

45. PEOPLE WHO HATE ROLLER COASTERS
They’re fine people except at theme parks and at the State Fair. No fun at all. Can’t do anything with them except sit at the Pig races and eat too much food. Not that bad, if you think about it, but bad enough to make it onto this list. Seriously, what’s the point of going to these places if you’re not going to ride the biggest, tallest, scariest ride ever? And that girl should have had her feet fastened on better.

44. PEOPLE WHO ARE BETTER THAN YOU AND KNOW IT
Just a little self-esteem “booster”, eh? No, we don’t need you rubbing it in that you’re skinny, 5’ 2” and blonde. We certainly don’t need you showing off how much faster you are at swimming than the rest of us. No need to brag about all the stuff you can buy thanks to your dad’s immense fortune or how many R-rated movies you’ve been allowed to watch. Well…well…I’m taller, I have more potential, I’m more prepared for the future and…I don’t have a dirty mind! Yeah!!

43. PEOPLE WHO SNEEZE INTO THE POOL
Sorry, Nathan and Noah, but it is kind of annoying and gross.

42. PEOPLE WHO NEVER HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM
I’m always embarrassed when I’m with these people. I don’t have an overactive bladder, but I’m not attempting to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for longest period of water retention either. There are certain times when I want to go to the bathroom (right before a movie, right before a long, difficult swimming set, in the middle of a boring, droning speech, right after eating, eventually on a 13-hour car trip) and I like it when someone else will say, “you need to go to the bathroom?” I don’t like to ask. Maybe it’s me.

41. UNHEALTHY PEOPLE THAT COMPLAIN ABOUT BEING FAT
DUH!!! There’s a reason. I know people that will complain about how fat they look in whatever it may be, and then not even an hour later I’ll see them getting 3 bags of Fritos, a package of Starburst and some Reeces Pieces out of a vending machine and eating them all right then. For dinner. I lecture them and they ignore me. Bothersome elephants anyway.

40. PEOPLE THAT LISTEN TO RAP “MUSIC”
It’s not music. Not singing, not playing an instrument. Just talking in a rhythm about anything offensive to some annoying beat created by a computer. I don’t like country much either, but at LEAST it takes talent. And just for anyone’s general knowledge, 50 Cent does not write deep lyrics.

39. PEOPLE THAT HAVE BAD MEMORIES
Now, I love these people to death on most occasions. They’re quite in the same league as the people that hate roller coasters. It’s annoying when they can’t even remember a heated debate you held with them yesterday. Or you run into them two days after a weeklong camp where you encountered them every day so of COURSE they should recognize you, right? I used to say hi to the latter people…now I just wander aimlessly about pretending that I don’t recognize them either. Like Phil Collins says, “I’ve seen your face before, my friend, but I don’t know if you know who I am…”

38. INDECISIVE PEOPLE
You know what I love? I love hanging around my improv friends. Why? Because I feel secure around them, because I know that whatever problems arise, they will be fixed in a matter of seconds. I rest assured that no matter what comes our way, it will be resolved, and quickly. But I can’t stand to be around people who are the opposite. If an issue comes up, they will take days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, millennia…how ever long they know they can take to make a decision. In the mean time they will analyze EVERYTHING and run it all through their head, seemingly stopping on one possibility but then immediately switching to something that sounds better. Oh, how I love improvers.

37. PEOPLE WHO PLAY MUSIC WHEN YOU’RE TRYING TO WATCH TV
I’d have to admit that I’m one of these people. I, myself, am quite guilty of coming into whichever room may house a TV with my guitar, mandolin, or recorder, or my brother’s bass or just simply sit down at the piano and begin to play whatever comes to mind at that moment. It’s fine when I do it—I’m quite capable of doing two things at once. However, when someone else does it, my tolerance wears thin. I’ve been told a million times that if I dish it out I should be able to take it. So I’m working on that. Unintentional but probable outcome—I’ll end up marrying someone who does the same thing.

36. PEOPLE WHO TURN ON THE TV WHEN YOU’RE PLAYING MUSIC
Not guilty!!! However, certain siblings of mine are quite the opposite.

35. PESSIMISTS
I know I already covered negative people, but this just goes to show you I can’t stand anyone of the sort. If I decide I want to do something, don’t tell me I can’t, just simply because it seems humanly impossible to you. Ugh-ness-icity.

34. WANNABES
The reason I don’t really like American Idol is because every time I watch it, I begin to have a bad attitude about how stupid all the wannabes are. I just can’t stand people who do something that they’re not good at in front of everyone, and then get mad when someone tells them they stink.

33. TANNERS
What’s the point of a pool membership if you simply lay out all day and only get into the pool to cool off for two seconds? Dark skin? Ugh. Don’t get me started on this one. Tanning is so incredibly shallow to me (especially when done without doing anything useful like reading Charles Dickens or something)…I could go on for days about how stupid it is.


Well, it seems as if I’ve run out for now. *sigh* If anyone else has any suggestions, feel free to tell me. I’ve got to go now, though. Bye!

~Jessica