As a graphic design major, I am taking emblem to mean personal logo. It just so happens that I have one of those, and that it means many things to me.
I have previously mentioned that I love fantasy literature. I would not be a legitimate fantasy nerd if I did not extend this love to Lord of the Rings. I am not quite the LOTR geek that many of my friends are, but I have an elvish name and I have made my own Tolkien-esque symbol, which has become my personal logo to which I am very attached.
First, the Tolkien logo:
Tolkien's emblem is representative of his name and very indicative of his creative elvish legacy. Everything means something in this logo, although I'm not quite sure about all of them. But you can find the J and the two R's and the T in there. Not quite sure what the dots are, but I'm sure they serve a purpose. I would also like to point out that the two R's in his name form my very favorite Cyrillic letter., the "ph" sound.
My emblem, created in a lovely dorky night of friends creating elvish names and logos. My Elvish name is Tathariel, meaning literally "Daughter of the Willow". I love it, it's wonderful. My second Elvish name is Lomelinde, meaning "singer at dusk" or, nightingale. This is probably the dorkiest paragraph I have ever written. But I say this because if I were to ever create my own design business, I would use one or both of these names, and probably this logo.
What logo, you ask? THIS ONE!
This means a variety of things to me. First, the "L" scrunched in the middle. It stands for Laura, my name, and if you turn it upside down it is also an "L", for Lomelinde. The "T" holding everything together is for Tathariel. It also could be construed as a cross, signifying the Christian household in which I grew up and the value system embedded in me since childhood. In fact, the cross in the other emblem could symbolize Tolkien's deep Christian identity and its effect on his work. Upon further investigation into the mechanics of the logo, I realize that my emblem spells my entire name, which just blew my mind a little bit. It's slightly difficult to describe, but trust me, you can find an "L", "A", "U", "R", and "A" in there. Several times over, in fact. There is a "W" for Windham upside down on top of the "T". I also use this visual element as a tent, signifying my love for camping. I originally put in the dot as a purely visual interest, which honestly ties back in to my previous post on aestheticism. But I could stretch and make the dot me, situated between my literal identity, Laura, and my literal (book) identity, Tathariel.
So this ties in to all popcycle aspects of my life. Career: I made a logo for myself, it can't get more graphic design-y than that. Also, the incorporation of the elvish words into a future business name. Entertainment: Lord of the Rings literary tie in. Family: My name, the cross, the fact that my dad was the first to introduce me to LOTR. Community: I created this with a group of friends.
NOTE: While doing this post, I had an epiphany while on an elvish language website, which has to do with the anti-definition of my name. Please visit my earlier post for details.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Columbia and Lexington as Communities
I was born in Columbia and moved to the suburb of Lexington when I was six. Lexington is a great place to raise a family. It may be overwhelmingly conservative, has its share of country-club-going PTA-frenzied parents, but it also has a kind of sweet subculture of great, down-to-earth people. One of the same things that makes me mad about the school system also greatly added to my experience growing up there: it is STOCKED with money, at least in the Lexington One school district. Our high school and technology center were overflowing with superfluous spending. I would get so mad when I would walk down the hall and see flat screens on the hallway walls for no other purpose than to show slide shows of our students... to our students. We also had a tacky vase bigger than any person that cost about $5000 (according to my teacher). But I didn't complain when my technology center Advertising Design course had a lab full of brand-new Macs with leather chairs and state-of-the-art software and printers.
Lexington is fondly known as Rednexington to our rivals. Yes, we do have our fair share of Rednecks, but (my friend and I were talking about this the other day) our community has this uncanny ability to produce utterly unique, talented, smart individuals at a higher rate than most. Every school has their interesting personalities, but my class (granted, it consisted of 600 or so people), had so many of them it was staggering. The difference between our valedictorian and #40 in the GPA standings was .2... bully for me because I was the #33, which was the absolute last ranking where I could get the highest state scholarship. Beside the point.
I recently read an article in Columbia's free times where so-called 'young progressives' talked about the 'brain drain' of Columbia, where all of our intelligent folk move away after college. I was slightly offended by some of their statements, though I agree with a few too. It is true that Columbia and surrounding areas are majority conservative, but the arts are still given their due here. Our downtown has flourished recently in festivals and celebration of art and music and dance. The renovation of main street is particularly exciting because it promises a kind-of condensed edgy/hip scene. Five Points is very popular, even with visiting artists. At my previous job, I had to pick up singer/entertainer Andrew WK from his hotel and we talked about what he remembered of Columbia from previous visits. He said he really liked our New Brookland Tavern and five points, two places which many residents think of as sketchy dives.
I am not a member of South Carolina's majority ideology, but I feel so blessed to have been raised here. Granted, I got the #1 schooling in a state known for its terrible schooling, and the rehaul of Columbia should probably trickle into other towns as well, but I still feel happy to be here. It's too bad the country has this warped idea of us from Mark Sanford, Caite Upton (Miss Teen SC 2007, coincidentally in my graduating class and unfortunately in several of my high school classes), Alvin Greene, and Joe Wilson, because we have so much to offer. I look very much forward to see Columbia blossom in the future.
Lexington is fondly known as Rednexington to our rivals. Yes, we do have our fair share of Rednecks, but (my friend and I were talking about this the other day) our community has this uncanny ability to produce utterly unique, talented, smart individuals at a higher rate than most. Every school has their interesting personalities, but my class (granted, it consisted of 600 or so people), had so many of them it was staggering. The difference between our valedictorian and #40 in the GPA standings was .2... bully for me because I was the #33, which was the absolute last ranking where I could get the highest state scholarship. Beside the point.
I recently read an article in Columbia's free times where so-called 'young progressives' talked about the 'brain drain' of Columbia, where all of our intelligent folk move away after college. I was slightly offended by some of their statements, though I agree with a few too. It is true that Columbia and surrounding areas are majority conservative, but the arts are still given their due here. Our downtown has flourished recently in festivals and celebration of art and music and dance. The renovation of main street is particularly exciting because it promises a kind-of condensed edgy/hip scene. Five Points is very popular, even with visiting artists. At my previous job, I had to pick up singer/entertainer Andrew WK from his hotel and we talked about what he remembered of Columbia from previous visits. He said he really liked our New Brookland Tavern and five points, two places which many residents think of as sketchy dives.
I am not a member of South Carolina's majority ideology, but I feel so blessed to have been raised here. Granted, I got the #1 schooling in a state known for its terrible schooling, and the rehaul of Columbia should probably trickle into other towns as well, but I still feel happy to be here. It's too bad the country has this warped idea of us from Mark Sanford, Caite Upton (Miss Teen SC 2007, coincidentally in my graduating class and unfortunately in several of my high school classes), Alvin Greene, and Joe Wilson, because we have so much to offer. I look very much forward to see Columbia blossom in the future.
Edward Rutledge
I went to Mellow Mushroom's trivia night last night. What does this have to do with English 460, you ask? Well, one of the questions was "who was the youngest person to sign the Declaration of Independence, also a future governor of South Carolina?" and I got it: Edward Rutledge. I remembered it from some long past history course - my AP teacher would be proud.
He has many buildings named after him, not to mention one USC building on the Horseshoe. The family name is a very old-world historic South Carolina name, with a house/museum in Charleston and various businesses using the moniker.
That is probably why he comes to mind immediately when we are asked to come up with a community figure. I don't know how many of my peers even know who he is, probably none of them, and I have no idea what it says about my childhood that I do remember that minuscule detail, but there it is. It probably just means that I have a good head for random trivia.
Another local leader that comes to mind is Moultrie of the infamous Fort Moultrie in the Civil War, and... it would be utter nonsense to mention any current local leaders.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
My 'fetish'
My magic tool, my fetish, as it may be called, is aesthetics.
I realized the other day in another class, that I can be classified as an aesthetic. Even before I realized this, I chose aesthetic-medic for my name for my website and personal email, combining the fact that I always feel I have the power to make things look better as a plastic surgeon can make a body look better (NOT condoning plastic surgery), and the fact that for a certain, life-defining period of my college years, I thought seriously of being an army medic. (COMPLETELY different from everything I usually represent.)
I never thought of aestheticism as a movement, though it should be noted that I am blissfully ignorant of such "movements" as these - think of it as a willing brain block against modern philosophy. But, the other day I realized that I am an aesthetic, of sorts. I value art simply for art's sake. I most often care not what is in a photograph as long as the colors complement each other, or the contrast is striking, or the composition is well planned. That is not to mean that I do not look at and appreciate the subject matter of art. But I do not seek out art that speaks to me on some emotional level. Then again, I do. The colors, the forms, the composition, they all have the capacity to move me. Even (and especially) in nature. If I am having a bad day, I take a back road on my way home which goes by a field filled with tall trees planted in rows. Driving slowly by it, watching each of the rows become level with my vision and then fly by, always calms me. It never fails. Similarly, seeing a beautiful piece of art - whether it be photograph, painting, sculpture, furniture piece, craft piece, or simply a beautiful leaf or rusting building - always makes my day a little bit better.
In a sense, this is why I want to be a book cover designer. I am entirely guilty of judging a book by its cover, and I'm not [too] ashamed to admit it. I believe a well put-together image is beneficial to any part of life, whether it be personal style, art, etc. And what better to combine my two loves of books and art in book design? I've even attended a national book-arts conference, where I learned to actually craft books from basic materials and met many famous book-as-art artists from across the country.
So I would say that the beautiful is my fetish. It is my "magic tool" to get through the hero narrative of my life.
I realized the other day in another class, that I can be classified as an aesthetic. Even before I realized this, I chose aesthetic-medic for my name for my website and personal email, combining the fact that I always feel I have the power to make things look better as a plastic surgeon can make a body look better (NOT condoning plastic surgery), and the fact that for a certain, life-defining period of my college years, I thought seriously of being an army medic. (COMPLETELY different from everything I usually represent.)
I never thought of aestheticism as a movement, though it should be noted that I am blissfully ignorant of such "movements" as these - think of it as a willing brain block against modern philosophy. But, the other day I realized that I am an aesthetic, of sorts. I value art simply for art's sake. I most often care not what is in a photograph as long as the colors complement each other, or the contrast is striking, or the composition is well planned. That is not to mean that I do not look at and appreciate the subject matter of art. But I do not seek out art that speaks to me on some emotional level. Then again, I do. The colors, the forms, the composition, they all have the capacity to move me. Even (and especially) in nature. If I am having a bad day, I take a back road on my way home which goes by a field filled with tall trees planted in rows. Driving slowly by it, watching each of the rows become level with my vision and then fly by, always calms me. It never fails. Similarly, seeing a beautiful piece of art - whether it be photograph, painting, sculpture, furniture piece, craft piece, or simply a beautiful leaf or rusting building - always makes my day a little bit better.
In a sense, this is why I want to be a book cover designer. I am entirely guilty of judging a book by its cover, and I'm not [too] ashamed to admit it. I believe a well put-together image is beneficial to any part of life, whether it be personal style, art, etc. And what better to combine my two loves of books and art in book design? I've even attended a national book-arts conference, where I learned to actually craft books from basic materials and met many famous book-as-art artists from across the country.
So I would say that the beautiful is my fetish. It is my "magic tool" to get through the hero narrative of my life.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Entertainment and fiction
I would now like to discuss what fiction means to me.
Everything.
My head is 90% in the clouds. Fiction, especially but not always fantasy, whether in books or movies or photography or music, has always been my escape. I sometimes feel that I get melodramatic when I talk about my love of books, but if that's the only area of my life where I am melodramatic, I'm ok with that. They are life changing for me, and I will always believe that.
I previously mentioned Harry Potter. I will not talk much more about it, just that it is inhabiting an incredibly personal era of my life, which will effectively end in July 2011. There is no coincidence that one of my most respected celebrities also plays a major part in the Harry Potter movies.
A few more books I will mention. Beside Harry, the other most life changing book series for me has been Outlander.
I read this series like inhaling crack cocaine in my sophomore year of college. First of all, it was a hard family time for me, so I think I escaped a little too much into the web of fiction that Diana Gabaldon expertly wove. But this book, it changed my entire ideal system. I don't think it's what the books set out to do, but they did it anyway. It's hard to describe, without being verbose, but just trust me. I am a different person for having read those books. They are incredibly personal for me, maybe even more so than HP. But Diana Gabaldon gave readers every single mundane or exciting detail of her characters' [longgggg] lives. I felt as if I knew them like my own family. Outlander is hands-down the reason I studied abroad in Glasgow.
Basically, a book or book series cannot make it into my top 5 without being incredibly close to my heart. So in the interest of being brief, I will list other ones that have affected me this way. The His Dark Materials series, anything Brandon Sanderson ever wrote, especially Warbreaker, the Chaos Walking series (I just finished this yesterday, and WHEW.), and Lord of the Rings. All of these have some fantastical element to them, many full blown fantasy. I wonder what it says about me that they are so vital to my personality.
Let's move on to movies.
The only one I really want to talk about, though there are others, is Cemetery Junction. It was released in Glasgow when I was abroad, and I don't think it ever really caught on in the US (or really, in the UK - I think it was a flop). Isn't it funny that reading Outlander led me to Glasgow, where I would watch this movie. Funny how things that change our lives are linked.
I went to see it alone one dreary, boring day. I was having problems with homesickness at the time, which adds to my aforementioned statement that the context of my having watched this movie definitely affected my interpretation of it. It is not that great of a movie. That is to say, I doubt it won any awards at all. But I came out of it feeling so moved, so absolutely affected by it, that I am [probably the only person in the world who is] glad it was made. I felt it spoke directly to me, although my situation was far different than that of the characters'. Maybe if I watch it again, I won't get the same sense, but it was honestly the first time I had left a movie theater with that feeling of... undefinability.
But this ties into entertainment, and childhood, and career (I want to be a book cover designer because of my early-adopted love of books). It is what makes me who I am, is important to every nook and cranny of my person.
Everything.
My head is 90% in the clouds. Fiction, especially but not always fantasy, whether in books or movies or photography or music, has always been my escape. I sometimes feel that I get melodramatic when I talk about my love of books, but if that's the only area of my life where I am melodramatic, I'm ok with that. They are life changing for me, and I will always believe that.
I previously mentioned Harry Potter. I will not talk much more about it, just that it is inhabiting an incredibly personal era of my life, which will effectively end in July 2011. There is no coincidence that one of my most respected celebrities also plays a major part in the Harry Potter movies.
A few more books I will mention. Beside Harry, the other most life changing book series for me has been Outlander.
I read this series like inhaling crack cocaine in my sophomore year of college. First of all, it was a hard family time for me, so I think I escaped a little too much into the web of fiction that Diana Gabaldon expertly wove. But this book, it changed my entire ideal system. I don't think it's what the books set out to do, but they did it anyway. It's hard to describe, without being verbose, but just trust me. I am a different person for having read those books. They are incredibly personal for me, maybe even more so than HP. But Diana Gabaldon gave readers every single mundane or exciting detail of her characters' [longgggg] lives. I felt as if I knew them like my own family. Outlander is hands-down the reason I studied abroad in Glasgow.
Basically, a book or book series cannot make it into my top 5 without being incredibly close to my heart. So in the interest of being brief, I will list other ones that have affected me this way. The His Dark Materials series, anything Brandon Sanderson ever wrote, especially Warbreaker, the Chaos Walking series (I just finished this yesterday, and WHEW.), and Lord of the Rings. All of these have some fantastical element to them, many full blown fantasy. I wonder what it says about me that they are so vital to my personality.
Let's move on to movies.
The only one I really want to talk about, though there are others, is Cemetery Junction. It was released in Glasgow when I was abroad, and I don't think it ever really caught on in the US (or really, in the UK - I think it was a flop). Isn't it funny that reading Outlander led me to Glasgow, where I would watch this movie. Funny how things that change our lives are linked.
I went to see it alone one dreary, boring day. I was having problems with homesickness at the time, which adds to my aforementioned statement that the context of my having watched this movie definitely affected my interpretation of it. It is not that great of a movie. That is to say, I doubt it won any awards at all. But I came out of it feeling so moved, so absolutely affected by it, that I am [probably the only person in the world who is] glad it was made. I felt it spoke directly to me, although my situation was far different than that of the characters'. Maybe if I watch it again, I won't get the same sense, but it was honestly the first time I had left a movie theater with that feeling of... undefinability.
But this ties into entertainment, and childhood, and career (I want to be a book cover designer because of my early-adopted love of books). It is what makes me who I am, is important to every nook and cranny of my person.
Emma Watson.
Harry Potter is a defining feature of my childhood. Yes, I stood in line for those last 3 books at their midnight releases at my local bookstore. Yes, I have already purchased tickets for the first installment of the last movie (Coming out A WEEK from tonight!!!!!!) Perhaps it's odd to define oneself by the fiction one reads. But I have always been quite a bit odd.
Moving on, Emma Watson has grown up in the spotlight as Hermione Granger. Yes, I am actually enough in touch with reality that I know to separate the two. But I have grown to respect Watson as an actress and as a person. Not only has she been an integral part of the visualization of my favorite book series, but she has branched out besides that as well. The later picture of her is from an Italian Vogue spread done a couple of years ago in which the entire fashion/celebrity world went, "whoa! She's grown up! What a fashionable young woman!" She has gone on to be a face of Burberry and is know for her forays into the fashion world. I also respect what she did when filming Harry Potter wrapped, even though the fashion world went bonkers: cut her hair all off. She had been under contract to never cut her hair for a decade, and now that she can do it, she did! She also goes to Brown University, and I respect any star that values education above fame.
Links that have to do with my career/life goals.
I am a blog follower. My RSS feed is enormous (right now, 300 unread posts from just today, and counting). Many of these blogs I follow have to do with my chosen career (graphic design), and many have to do with what I'd like to do along with that (wedding/love photography and planning, general photography, interior design, art).
Graphic-Exchange
Created by graphic designer who lives in the country of southern France (yes, I hate him), this is the best collection of everything beautiful in graphic design, interior design, and photography, that I have ever seen.
ffffound
This incredibly prolific blog only posts single images with no description and only a link to the source site. I have discovered many good images and blogs through ffffound.
100 Layer Cake
The wedding blog that started my unhealthy, obsessive love of all things wedding blog.
HOW blog
Don't really like this blog, but this magazine is one of the premier graphic design mags out there. I like Communication Arts magazine better, but their blog sucks even more.
Design Work Life
Design Sponge
The above two blogs are similar. Lots of cutesy design inspiration, as well as nice interiors, clothing, whatever suits their fancy. It happens to be that their fancy is similar to mine.
Dieline
I don't think that I will ever go into package design as a final career, but it's a fallback option and, let's face it, I'll go wherever I can get hired. But package design is a lot of fun, and this site is a collection of the best design out there. (However, I notice that all the awesomely designed stuff is not held in any store I have ever been to. Must be hoity-toity exclusive brands.)
Graphic-Exchange
Created by graphic designer who lives in the country of southern France (yes, I hate him), this is the best collection of everything beautiful in graphic design, interior design, and photography, that I have ever seen.
ffffound
This incredibly prolific blog only posts single images with no description and only a link to the source site. I have discovered many good images and blogs through ffffound.
100 Layer Cake
The wedding blog that started my unhealthy, obsessive love of all things wedding blog.
HOW blog
Don't really like this blog, but this magazine is one of the premier graphic design mags out there. I like Communication Arts magazine better, but their blog sucks even more.
Design Work Life
Design Sponge
The above two blogs are similar. Lots of cutesy design inspiration, as well as nice interiors, clothing, whatever suits their fancy. It happens to be that their fancy is similar to mine.
Dieline
I don't think that I will ever go into package design as a final career, but it's a fallback option and, let's face it, I'll go wherever I can get hired. But package design is a lot of fun, and this site is a collection of the best design out there. (However, I notice that all the awesomely designed stuff is not held in any store I have ever been to. Must be hoity-toity exclusive brands.)
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Emergency/exigence and my own hero narrative
Talking about the "emergency" event in the exigence category today, it made me think of a particular instance that stands out in my life.
I have always been the type of person that is slightly nervous before any travel experience. What if something goes wrong? Well, not anymore.
I studied abroad in Glasgow last semester. During spring break, my friend who was studying in San Sebastien, Spain, met up with me and we traveled to London, Amsterdam, and took a bus from Amsterdam to Spain (24 $#$^&%! hours, but it was the cheapest). Well, that bus ride began the experience that was the second worst day of my life, aka, The Day from Hell (Real original, I know).
We were already tired. We had missed our flight from Glasgow to London, having to pay quite a bit for a new one. Several early mornings, hours of traveling and sightseeing... those will take it out of you. And I have never been one who can really sleep on a bus.
So we finally got to San Sebastien, after an entire day of the least pretty highways in Europe, angry, smelly Spanish busmates, and a several hour long search complete with dogs by the French border patrol. We get there, exhausted, and start walking to Mary's friend's apartment, where I will be staying.
I forgot my purse.
Yes, you say, that stinks. But I don't think you comprehend. My wallet with cards/cash. My PASSPORT. My phone. My camera.
The terror. The bus is long gone by now, I don't speak the language of this country, AND I CAN'T LEAVE. This is sincerely the worst thing that could have happened. If I hadn't had Mary, I would have had a breakdown. I can't even fathom not having her there. She speaks fluent Spanish, so she helped me with contacting the (incompetent) bus service, and we tracked down the purse, which was brought back later that day.
But before then, her card was eaten by the machine. It was a Sunday, so nothing was open. We were stranded, about 10 Euros to our name, tired and incredibly emotional in a foreign land. We both called our parents on her skype and sobbed. I decided that although she is one of my best friends, we should probably end our spring break a little early.
So I got a hotel room in Hendaye, just on the other side of the border in France. I took a train over there with rudimentary directions on how to get to the hotel from the train station. They weren't correct. I like to tell everyone that I WALKED INTO SPAIN looking for my French hotel (even though it was just a mile or so out of my way). But I was at the end of my rope. I got to my hotel, had a confused back and forth with the receptionist, took like 10 tries to call my parents, called them, sobbed again, and slept for a day or so.
As I recount this, it doesn't seem so much to fit into the emergency quadrant. But this is an event that changed my life. I now do not freak out in the face of complications. Anything, I think, is better than that one emotionally charged day. It helps me be calm in the face of catastrophe.
(Also, I had to put it into perspective a few days later: I returned to Glasgow less than one day before the Icelandic volcano erupted, which caused a lot of my friends to be stranded in continental Europe, and they spent much more money than I did trying to get home, missed class, and dealt with a lot more stress. It's funny how nature can humble you sometimes.)
Basically, I'd like to break this down in terms of the hero narrative.
(1) Author: I am the hero. Heroine.
(2) Text: Spring break, Europe. Foreign land. Foreign language.
(3) Exigence: No sleep, lost purse, not speaking language, lost credit card, bad directions.
(4) Audience: Did I have an audience? You are my audience... the audience to my day consisted of Mary, various waiters, bus company people, the hotel concierge, my parents.
(5) Constraints: My limits were language and lack of sleep. My magic tool was Mary and my rudimentary high school French. And the baguette and gummy apple rings that I bought when in France. They all helped me get through those days.
I have always been the type of person that is slightly nervous before any travel experience. What if something goes wrong? Well, not anymore.
I studied abroad in Glasgow last semester. During spring break, my friend who was studying in San Sebastien, Spain, met up with me and we traveled to London, Amsterdam, and took a bus from Amsterdam to Spain (24 $#$^&%! hours, but it was the cheapest). Well, that bus ride began the experience that was the second worst day of my life, aka, The Day from Hell (Real original, I know).
We were already tired. We had missed our flight from Glasgow to London, having to pay quite a bit for a new one. Several early mornings, hours of traveling and sightseeing... those will take it out of you. And I have never been one who can really sleep on a bus.
So we finally got to San Sebastien, after an entire day of the least pretty highways in Europe, angry, smelly Spanish busmates, and a several hour long search complete with dogs by the French border patrol. We get there, exhausted, and start walking to Mary's friend's apartment, where I will be staying.
I forgot my purse.
Yes, you say, that stinks. But I don't think you comprehend. My wallet with cards/cash. My PASSPORT. My phone. My camera.
The terror. The bus is long gone by now, I don't speak the language of this country, AND I CAN'T LEAVE. This is sincerely the worst thing that could have happened. If I hadn't had Mary, I would have had a breakdown. I can't even fathom not having her there. She speaks fluent Spanish, so she helped me with contacting the (incompetent) bus service, and we tracked down the purse, which was brought back later that day.
But before then, her card was eaten by the machine. It was a Sunday, so nothing was open. We were stranded, about 10 Euros to our name, tired and incredibly emotional in a foreign land. We both called our parents on her skype and sobbed. I decided that although she is one of my best friends, we should probably end our spring break a little early.
So I got a hotel room in Hendaye, just on the other side of the border in France. I took a train over there with rudimentary directions on how to get to the hotel from the train station. They weren't correct. I like to tell everyone that I WALKED INTO SPAIN looking for my French hotel (even though it was just a mile or so out of my way). But I was at the end of my rope. I got to my hotel, had a confused back and forth with the receptionist, took like 10 tries to call my parents, called them, sobbed again, and slept for a day or so.
As I recount this, it doesn't seem so much to fit into the emergency quadrant. But this is an event that changed my life. I now do not freak out in the face of complications. Anything, I think, is better than that one emotionally charged day. It helps me be calm in the face of catastrophe.
(Also, I had to put it into perspective a few days later: I returned to Glasgow less than one day before the Icelandic volcano erupted, which caused a lot of my friends to be stranded in continental Europe, and they spent much more money than I did trying to get home, missed class, and dealt with a lot more stress. It's funny how nature can humble you sometimes.)
Basically, I'd like to break this down in terms of the hero narrative.
(1) Author: I am the hero. Heroine.
(2) Text: Spring break, Europe. Foreign land. Foreign language.
(3) Exigence: No sleep, lost purse, not speaking language, lost credit card, bad directions.
(4) Audience: Did I have an audience? You are my audience... the audience to my day consisted of Mary, various waiters, bus company people, the hotel concierge, my parents.
(5) Constraints: My limits were language and lack of sleep. My magic tool was Mary and my rudimentary high school French. And the baguette and gummy apple rings that I bought when in France. They all helped me get through those days.
Trying to connect my thoughts.
A picture that describes my decision making process:
I am a people-pleaser. In the last couple of years, I have been in the slow-going process of growing a backbone. But there are still people that I tiptoe around, try to please. It's a serious problem for me, but I'm working on it.
Coincidentally, my earliest memory is of a neighbor's golden retriever coming to my house. And though I [think I] liked that dog, for years afterward I was terrified to even come near a dog, or a cat, or any animal for that matter.
I am a people-pleaser. In the last couple of years, I have been in the slow-going process of growing a backbone. But there are still people that I tiptoe around, try to please. It's a serious problem for me, but I'm working on it.
Coincidentally, my earliest memory is of a neighbor's golden retriever coming to my house. And though I [think I] liked that dog, for years afterward I was terrified to even come near a dog, or a cat, or any animal for that matter.
Party central
As a general statement, I am a shy girl. That doesn't mean I'm not confident, but, well, that's kind of beside the point. The point is, I don't particularly like being the center of attention. However, something that stands out in my childhood is the vast multitude of parties that I have been thrown for my birthdays.
Hopefully my father will never read this, but if he somehowdoes, let me start with the blanket statement: THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT I DIDN'T LIKE MY PARTIES. They were some of the best moments of my life. But I can honestly say that I had the most parties of the girls I knew. My parents tried to devise more and more devious ways to outdo the party from the year before. Most often in my youth it was sleepovers, chuck-e-cheese type places when I was really young. In the tenth grade, I was thrown an epic surprise party. It was intricately planned by my father with my friends as co-conspirators. I was fooled, though I had some previous suspicions because of people acting funny beforehand. But they had rented a huge conference room at a local hotel, fooled me into thinking that I was working an event for my friend's father, and voila... I walked into a makeshift club filled with everyone I had ever met (ok, I exaggerate) and complete with my very own DJ! We danced the night away, though I wish I had had some warning because my hair was dreadful. My sweet sixteen was an absolute success, lavish and insane, an adolescent's dream.
Then, for my 19th, my parents topped themselves. I had been to the Darfur Rally at the State House in October, and told my parents about this performer, Danielle Howle (a local celebrity), that I thought they would like. Lo and behold, they got a hold of her manager and brought her to my house for my birthday party! My friends, family and I gathered in my living room, she sat on the steps, and gave us a concert! It was quite surreal. I'm still not sure it even happened, but I have proof:
This is me and my parents with Danielle Howle afterward.
I have decided that from now on, I don't really want anything more than a nice dinner for my birthdays. I have had more than my share of attention for a yearly event that everyone experiences. But the memories of my parties are some of the best of my life.
Hopefully my father will never read this, but if he somehowdoes, let me start with the blanket statement: THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT I DIDN'T LIKE MY PARTIES. They were some of the best moments of my life. But I can honestly say that I had the most parties of the girls I knew. My parents tried to devise more and more devious ways to outdo the party from the year before. Most often in my youth it was sleepovers, chuck-e-cheese type places when I was really young. In the tenth grade, I was thrown an epic surprise party. It was intricately planned by my father with my friends as co-conspirators. I was fooled, though I had some previous suspicions because of people acting funny beforehand. But they had rented a huge conference room at a local hotel, fooled me into thinking that I was working an event for my friend's father, and voila... I walked into a makeshift club filled with everyone I had ever met (ok, I exaggerate) and complete with my very own DJ! We danced the night away, though I wish I had had some warning because my hair was dreadful. My sweet sixteen was an absolute success, lavish and insane, an adolescent's dream.
Then, for my 19th, my parents topped themselves. I had been to the Darfur Rally at the State House in October, and told my parents about this performer, Danielle Howle (a local celebrity), that I thought they would like. Lo and behold, they got a hold of her manager and brought her to my house for my birthday party! My friends, family and I gathered in my living room, she sat on the steps, and gave us a concert! It was quite surreal. I'm still not sure it even happened, but I have proof:
This is me and my parents with Danielle Howle afterward.
I have decided that from now on, I don't really want anything more than a nice dinner for my birthdays. I have had more than my share of attention for a yearly event that everyone experiences. But the memories of my parties are some of the best of my life.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Home page
Well. It is kind of impossible to create a home page on blogger, though I'm sure people have done it before. When I get my own "graphic designer" web site, I will hopefully have a kickin' home page.
Right now, when I log onto the internet, my home page is google.com. Maybe if I navigate you through what my typical course of map clicks entails, I can give you a better sense of what "home" is to me, at least concerning the internet.
This is what my tumblr looks like to the outside viewer. I'm pretty happy with the layout of it. I took the picture, designed the heading bar, carefully chose the layout. Being someone entirely consumed by aesthetics, it is important for me to display that in every single aspect of my life. Typically, I go to this page, admire the combination of photos and quotes/etc that I have currently posted, then go to the dashboard and look at my friends' posts. I also like using GoogleReader for the blogs I like that are not on tumblr.
Then, like any other person under 30 (and many over 30), I check my facebook, even though it emails me if anyone does anything concerning me. Can't resist stalking my friends and acquaintances.
Next, in true masochistic shopaholic form, I go to Anthropologie.com, my favorite store, which I can barely afford the sale items of. But it's a veritable feast for the eyes, every fabric and pattern and texture and design. It's just to die for.
My "home" on the internet consists of searching effortlessly for anything and everything I'd ever want, a narcissistic collection of mostly things I haven't even created myself and sometimes personal thoughts (that often lose me followers), cyber-stalking, and masochistic eye candy.
Right now, when I log onto the internet, my home page is google.com. Maybe if I navigate you through what my typical course of map clicks entails, I can give you a better sense of what "home" is to me, at least concerning the internet.
This is what my tumblr looks like to the outside viewer. I'm pretty happy with the layout of it. I took the picture, designed the heading bar, carefully chose the layout. Being someone entirely consumed by aesthetics, it is important for me to display that in every single aspect of my life. Typically, I go to this page, admire the combination of photos and quotes/etc that I have currently posted, then go to the dashboard and look at my friends' posts. I also like using GoogleReader for the blogs I like that are not on tumblr.
Then, like any other person under 30 (and many over 30), I check my facebook, even though it emails me if anyone does anything concerning me. Can't resist stalking my friends and acquaintances.
Next, in true masochistic shopaholic form, I go to Anthropologie.com, my favorite store, which I can barely afford the sale items of. But it's a veritable feast for the eyes, every fabric and pattern and texture and design. It's just to die for.
My "home" on the internet consists of searching effortlessly for anything and everything I'd ever want, a narcissistic collection of mostly things I haven't even created myself and sometimes personal thoughts (that often lose me followers), cyber-stalking, and masochistic eye candy.
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