I got an email this morning that is kind of a big deal. I'll let you read the text for yourself, it'll be more to the point than I can be.
Hi Bethany Bernard,
I am happy to inform you that you have been accepted into the MPA* program at UIC for Fall 2008. Congratulations!
I am attaching your official admissions letter to this email and I will send the original in the mail as well.
Please let me know if I can do anything else for you. Again, congratulations!
Best,
Sharon
Sharon Sanders
Visiting Program Coordinator
Department of Public Administration
College of Urban Planning and Public Affairs
University of Illinois at Chicago
*Masters of Public Administration
I called my dad and told him, and he said, "Yay! Now what?" And I, laughing, said, "I don't know."
There are two main questions I need to answer before July 15 (the deadline for submitting my letter of intent): 1) Is this the direction I want to go? and 2) How will I pay for it?
If I can satisfactorily answer both of those, I'm off Chicago this August.
All together now, "Oh. My. Word."
The other degrees I have been considering pursuing are: Applied Economics, Mathematics or Statistics, or some kind of Education degree.
I'm having trouble deciding what to pursue and how to pursue it. I want a career where I can use what I uniquely have to offer, something with problem solving and critical thinking, where communication is important, with a little bit of creativity, and most importantly, that helps other people. That job description is both naively specific and unproductively vague. It gives me no clue as to what industry or title I should search for.
I don't want a job that requires strong managerial and organizational skills. Though I am improving in those areas, I know I would be a disappointment to those who hire me for that. I don't have a comparative advantage.
For the past couple of weeks, I've mostly been thinking about business consulting and teaching. I know I would be excellent in either of those roles, but they are also a bit further out of reach. Getting an MPA would not preclude me from those career options, only delay them. It would probably also enhance my abilities and my opportunities. I just don't want to graduate with this degree and find myself stuck managing a non-profit or doing footwork for a politician. Really, I would cry.
As for how to pay for it, that is a complicated question, and I'll let you know when I figure it out.
June 27, 2008
June 26, 2008
Girl with a Pearl Earring
The novel, by Tracy Chevalie.Several years ago I was in a bookstore for a reason I don't recall, and while I was waiting for whoever I was with to finish their errand, I picked up this novel. I only read the first couple of pages, but I was intrigued enough to remember the name.
A couple of months ago, I had some credit at a used book store in Athens, Jackson Street Books. Usually, going to bookstores is an interesting experience. I love reading, especially novels, but I try to be discriminating. When I read, I invest hours of my life into the pages, and so I like to know ahead of time that it's a good investment. I look for a good writing style, the kind you don't notice as good because it's so flawless, like looking through a Windex polished window into another universe. I look for good story telling that uses details to speak volumes. I look for characters who, though their circumstances are extraordinary or far removed from my own, are still relatable.
With shelves and shelves of books, finding something that will satisfy is frustrating. I can't remember many good authors or titles off the top of my head, and so there usually isn't much to distinguish the well crafted novels from the grocery store check-out line novels. Thus, I was quite delighted when my eyes landed on the spine of Girl with a Pearl Earring. I didn't even think twice, I just grabbed the book and completed my purchase.
Even though I was glad about the purchase, I still waited to read it. I'm not sure if I was saving it or if I was afraid I would discover that it was indeed sold in the grocery store check-out line. In any case, when my laptop's battery cable broke and my laptop ran out of charge, I found myself cut off from the plans I had made for the day (Even now I am writing on my father's desktop, which is fine, but not the same). So, I opened the book, and four or five hours later I did not know it was four or five hours later and it was time to go to church.
Church has been the highlight of my week ever since I came home, and after being absorbed in that novel, I was actually reluctant to go. When I realized that, I understood better than ever why I read so much in high school and almost quit cold turkey when I came to college. The novel was an escape from the house I have little other excuse to leave.
Reading that novel was wonderful. I was in another timeline, I felt wrapped up emotionally in another world, impatient to learn what happened next. I finished it after I came home from church, and immediately wanted another novel. I practically felt addicted (that is, if I know what addiction feels like). The library is within walking distance, and I have several good sources of recommendations, my addiction is supplied.
But I am going to proceed with caution, because when I read, I am not job hunting, I am not figuring out a career, which is my top priority right now.
So that's about it. Oh, and if you were expecting a review, um, here goes. If you like historical fiction, art and beauty, the tension between duty and desire, or a well written novel, you will like this book. If you like action, explosions, mystery or danger, you might still like this book, but not as much. I liked it, take that for what you think it's worth.
June 24, 2008
Diploma
Oh, and one other thing...
My diploma came in the mail today!
I wore my [cheap] cap and gown, I have my tassel hanging in my room, my transcript says I graduated, but it never felt more real than when I unrolled my sheepskin and read my university's name, my name, etc.
Of course, this unemployed-living-at-home-with-my-parents thing feels a lot like summer vacation, so there's still some reality left to sink in, but the diploma certainly went a long way.
My diploma came in the mail today!
I wore my [cheap] cap and gown, I have my tassel hanging in my room, my transcript says I graduated, but it never felt more real than when I unrolled my sheepskin and read my university's name, my name, etc.
Of course, this unemployed-living-at-home-with-my-parents thing feels a lot like summer vacation, so there's still some reality left to sink in, but the diploma certainly went a long way.
Painting
As some of you know, I'm kind of artistic. Even though I don't practice very much, I still have a bit of talent with pencils and paintbrushes, as well as a good eye for shapes, colors and design. Every now and then, just for the sake of it, I get an itch to create something. A week or so ago, I decided to paint this.
I call this picture "Graduation." Even before that momentous day, I've felt like my life is "coming off the rails." Up until now, the next step has been essentially predetermined. Follow my parents wherever they move, sign up for class for the next year, go to college, and so forth. It was essentially a set track. But then college graduation came, and so did the end of the pre-laid line. Now I can go anywhere, start any career, get any grad degree. The only imperative is to go forward, get a job. So I feel like I'm in the middle of a field, I can go any direction, at any speed, for any length of time. Incredibly exhilarating, incredibly daunting.
And so, I'm in the process of developing a job search system, because I'm in this for the long haul.
I call this picture "Graduation." Even before that momentous day, I've felt like my life is "coming off the rails." Up until now, the next step has been essentially predetermined. Follow my parents wherever they move, sign up for class for the next year, go to college, and so forth. It was essentially a set track. But then college graduation came, and so did the end of the pre-laid line. Now I can go anywhere, start any career, get any grad degree. The only imperative is to go forward, get a job. So I feel like I'm in the middle of a field, I can go any direction, at any speed, for any length of time. Incredibly exhilarating, incredibly daunting.
And so, I'm in the process of developing a job search system, because I'm in this for the long haul.
June 23, 2008
201 Great Questions - #86
In one of my first posts, I said I would use some "get to know you" questions as blog topics. So here's my first attempt.
What does ugly mean to you? Describe it.
Well, my first reaction to this question is the obvious - physical appearance. Whether it's because I'm a woman, and physical attractiveness is important to me or because in our culture sex appeal is such a big deal or perhaps I'm just more shallow than I'd like to think I am.
In any case, I try not to focus too much on how attractive (or not) people are, but I would be lying if I said I don't notice it. I'm not going to go any further down that path though, I don't want to incriminate myself.
But after I get to know people, appearances fall away. Usually I can connect with people, and I can appreciate whatever quirks and personality traits they have. But some people, some personality traits I would consider ugly.
I consider dishonesty and fakeness among the ugliest traits a person can demonstrate. I would rather deal with someone who is negative or someone who is stubborn or forgetful - at least I know what to expect.
So what do you think? Do you agree? disagree? have anything to add?
I realize my answer was a little cliche, but oh well. Maybe I'll come back to this later on my own. Moreso, hopefully someone will say something thought provoking and bring me back.
What does ugly mean to you? Describe it.
Well, my first reaction to this question is the obvious - physical appearance. Whether it's because I'm a woman, and physical attractiveness is important to me or because in our culture sex appeal is such a big deal or perhaps I'm just more shallow than I'd like to think I am.
In any case, I try not to focus too much on how attractive (or not) people are, but I would be lying if I said I don't notice it. I'm not going to go any further down that path though, I don't want to incriminate myself.
But after I get to know people, appearances fall away. Usually I can connect with people, and I can appreciate whatever quirks and personality traits they have. But some people, some personality traits I would consider ugly.
I consider dishonesty and fakeness among the ugliest traits a person can demonstrate. I would rather deal with someone who is negative or someone who is stubborn or forgetful - at least I know what to expect.
So what do you think? Do you agree? disagree? have anything to add?
I realize my answer was a little cliche, but oh well. Maybe I'll come back to this later on my own. Moreso, hopefully someone will say something thought provoking and bring me back.
June 21, 2008
Sewing, Take II
So, here's a picture of the shirt I made. The belt/sash improves it significantly, though that wasn't part of the original design. I'll be making one and attaching it sometime next week. I'll also make at least one more shirt before too long, and once I fix my purse, I'll post a pic of that too.
Blueberry Muffins
Wow, that serious post was up for a week... Basically, I'm still trying to figure out what content is "appropriate" or not. I know, I know, it's the internet, everything is appropriate. But I want my posts to be interesting! relevent! witty! profound! Ye-eah, time to get over myself.
This is the bottom of the bowl, with some batter scrapings. I know, it's kind of random. But when I finished filling the muffin tins, I thought this looked pretty, so I got out my camera. Now I wish I had taken a picture of the batter before I spooned it into the tins (it looked cool too). But I didn't think of it, so oh well. Maybe next time, or maybe the image will just live on in my memory alone.
Here's the finished product while they were cooling. As you can see, they are not the traditional golden brown you expect from muffins. That's what happens when you use thawing blueberries - their juice stains everything. I think the berries wouldn't have stained the dough as much if they had actually been frozen. I bought them about 45 minutes prior, so they spent most of that time not in a freezer. In case you don't know, blueberries thaw very quickly.
So I baked blueberry muffins this morning - from scratch! I'd like you to be impressed, but it's ok if you're not. I used real (frozen) blueberries and yogurt, as described in this recipe. e
I was so proud of myself, I took pictures!
This is the bottom of the bowl, with some batter scrapings. I know, it's kind of random. But when I finished filling the muffin tins, I thought this looked pretty, so I got out my camera. Now I wish I had taken a picture of the batter before I spooned it into the tins (it looked cool too). But I didn't think of it, so oh well. Maybe next time, or maybe the image will just live on in my memory alone.
Here's the finished product while they were cooling. As you can see, they are not the traditional golden brown you expect from muffins. That's what happens when you use thawing blueberries - their juice stains everything. I think the berries wouldn't have stained the dough as much if they had actually been frozen. I bought them about 45 minutes prior, so they spent most of that time not in a freezer. In case you don't know, blueberries thaw very quickly.
And these last few just look cool, in my [humble] opinion.
June 13, 2008
Concerta
I wanted to post this, but I'm not entirely sure I should. I think I will anyway.
I've told a few friends either that I might have ADD or that I have recently been prescribed medication for ADD. And those who I have told so far have reacted rather strangely, like I just confessed to getting a tatoo or voting for Nader. It was like they didn't understand, and maybe even disapproved a little bit, but didn't feel it was their place to say anything. I admit, that caught me a little off guard.
I realize there are a couple of factors at play here - there's the stigma attached to ADD and other mental conditions, and there's me.
It is easy to view mental and emotional problems as excuses or as societal constructs, fixable with a better diet or more love or a little bit of willpower. It's in my mind, I can interact with it, I'm conscious and able to control my actions. And suppose the condition is actually real, then it's even scarier, it means something is wrong with me, with who I am. There is something particularly unsettling about that last thought that sets mental conditions apart [in our minds] from other health issues.
I also have Crohn's disease. Basically, I have something wrong with my digestive tract. If you want details, use the search bar at the top of your browser. Or here, I'll make it simple, www.google.com. Now, for Crohn's disease, if I don't take my medicine, my guts don't work correctly, I have pain and weakness and can't function. The same is true of my brain. The brain is indeed extraordinarily comlpex and the seat of our consciousness. However, it is easy to forget that the brain is also living tissue, flesh, material. It can malfunction, just like my guts. Its malfunctions inhibit my behavior, just like my guts. Medication improves its functions, just like my guts. Get the idea?
I understand this still takes some getting used to. Mental conditions can be scary, both in oneself and in others. They are harder to understand because they interact with a person's free will, and sometimes only God can discern the two. Yet I have grown up under someone who has one, and that has shaped my understanding. As most of you know, my mom has Bi-Polar (which is much scarier than ADD, oh my word, so much worse). I have seen her depressed, I have dealt with her mania and I have witnessed medication bring her back. I know that so many things my mom did and said were the result of her mental illness, and that she was not herself. I am completely convinced that mental conditions, where they actually exist, are physical, just like Crohns and allergies and the flu and heart disease.
That means that, even though there is a malfunction in my body, there is not "something wrong with me" as a person (at least, nothing more wrong with me than that which afflicts the whole of mankind). But I suppose that is the next question - is there, in fact, something wrong with Bethany?
I have been called "the most sane woman I know," by one friend, and others of you have made similar statements about my level-headedness and rationality. Could it be that I just don't "seem crazy" to you guys? Does it seem strange that someone as "on top of it" as me should need chemical assistance?
Well, let me cast this in a different light. Many of my friends have also stated that I "think too much" or "take myself too seriously." I've had a couple of friends over the years state they would not want to be in my mind for fear of getting lost. Let me ask you - how is that not crazy?
But that is not what the medication is for, only an example. I graduated from UGA cum laude. A great achievement to be sure. Yet, am I the only one wondering why I didn't graduate magna or summa cum laude? I had other priorities, sure. Grades weren't a big deal. But I could have done it. For three and half years, hour after hour, night after night I thought about doing homework and spent my time elsewhere. I was not that person who was too busy to study. Rather, I was usually just talking or spacing out. It was fine for most of college, I still got As and Bs. I'm just a procrastinator, so what?
Well, in the last couple of months I realized this was not just procrastination. Projects and assignments that needed doing, even when I didn't want to procrastinate, did not get done. I couldn't even begin. I completely, completely, lacked focus and motivation some days.
I know this sounds strange to most of you. It sounds strange to me too. For years I have told myself, "If I just try a little harder, I can get ___ under control." Any number of things could go in that blank - time management, organization, produtivity, punctuality. I just didn't try hard enough, I must not want it badly enough, this is just how I am.
Years of telling myself to just try a little harder? Years? It never occurred to me that this might be something effort couldn't solve until I felt completely broken and worthless because of my inability to accomplish a single thing (e.g., I wouldn't clean the bathroom on a Saturday when nothing else is going on). Yet that brokeness set me on the road to realizing something in my brain isn't quite firing correctly, which brings me to today and my first dose of Concerta. We'll see how this works. Just don't let me drink soda.
Well, now you know. Hopefully you also understand a little better, disapprove a little less. And if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask.
I've told a few friends either that I might have ADD or that I have recently been prescribed medication for ADD. And those who I have told so far have reacted rather strangely, like I just confessed to getting a tatoo or voting for Nader. It was like they didn't understand, and maybe even disapproved a little bit, but didn't feel it was their place to say anything. I admit, that caught me a little off guard.
I realize there are a couple of factors at play here - there's the stigma attached to ADD and other mental conditions, and there's me.
It is easy to view mental and emotional problems as excuses or as societal constructs, fixable with a better diet or more love or a little bit of willpower. It's in my mind, I can interact with it, I'm conscious and able to control my actions. And suppose the condition is actually real, then it's even scarier, it means something is wrong with me, with who I am. There is something particularly unsettling about that last thought that sets mental conditions apart [in our minds] from other health issues.
I also have Crohn's disease. Basically, I have something wrong with my digestive tract. If you want details, use the search bar at the top of your browser. Or here, I'll make it simple, www.google.com. Now, for Crohn's disease, if I don't take my medicine, my guts don't work correctly, I have pain and weakness and can't function. The same is true of my brain. The brain is indeed extraordinarily comlpex and the seat of our consciousness. However, it is easy to forget that the brain is also living tissue, flesh, material. It can malfunction, just like my guts. Its malfunctions inhibit my behavior, just like my guts. Medication improves its functions, just like my guts. Get the idea?
I understand this still takes some getting used to. Mental conditions can be scary, both in oneself and in others. They are harder to understand because they interact with a person's free will, and sometimes only God can discern the two. Yet I have grown up under someone who has one, and that has shaped my understanding. As most of you know, my mom has Bi-Polar (which is much scarier than ADD, oh my word, so much worse). I have seen her depressed, I have dealt with her mania and I have witnessed medication bring her back. I know that so many things my mom did and said were the result of her mental illness, and that she was not herself. I am completely convinced that mental conditions, where they actually exist, are physical, just like Crohns and allergies and the flu and heart disease.
That means that, even though there is a malfunction in my body, there is not "something wrong with me" as a person (at least, nothing more wrong with me than that which afflicts the whole of mankind). But I suppose that is the next question - is there, in fact, something wrong with Bethany?
I have been called "the most sane woman I know," by one friend, and others of you have made similar statements about my level-headedness and rationality. Could it be that I just don't "seem crazy" to you guys? Does it seem strange that someone as "on top of it" as me should need chemical assistance?
Well, let me cast this in a different light. Many of my friends have also stated that I "think too much" or "take myself too seriously." I've had a couple of friends over the years state they would not want to be in my mind for fear of getting lost. Let me ask you - how is that not crazy?
But that is not what the medication is for, only an example. I graduated from UGA cum laude. A great achievement to be sure. Yet, am I the only one wondering why I didn't graduate magna or summa cum laude? I had other priorities, sure. Grades weren't a big deal. But I could have done it. For three and half years, hour after hour, night after night I thought about doing homework and spent my time elsewhere. I was not that person who was too busy to study. Rather, I was usually just talking or spacing out. It was fine for most of college, I still got As and Bs. I'm just a procrastinator, so what?
Well, in the last couple of months I realized this was not just procrastination. Projects and assignments that needed doing, even when I didn't want to procrastinate, did not get done. I couldn't even begin. I completely, completely, lacked focus and motivation some days.
I know this sounds strange to most of you. It sounds strange to me too. For years I have told myself, "If I just try a little harder, I can get ___ under control." Any number of things could go in that blank - time management, organization, produtivity, punctuality. I just didn't try hard enough, I must not want it badly enough, this is just how I am.
Years of telling myself to just try a little harder? Years? It never occurred to me that this might be something effort couldn't solve until I felt completely broken and worthless because of my inability to accomplish a single thing (e.g., I wouldn't clean the bathroom on a Saturday when nothing else is going on). Yet that brokeness set me on the road to realizing something in my brain isn't quite firing correctly, which brings me to today and my first dose of Concerta. We'll see how this works. Just don't let me drink soda.
Well, now you know. Hopefully you also understand a little better, disapprove a little less. And if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask.
Seamstress
I finished sewing a blouse earlier tonight. Yes, I said sewing, as in, I took a few folds of cloth and transformed them into a wearable garment. (You can pick up your jaws now.) Also, when I say I made the shirt, what I really mean is, I did most of the work, but my mom bailed me out a time or two. Or three...
It was a good experience overall, I learned a lot. Picking out the pattern was fun, just like walking into a store or looking through a magazine can be fun. The shapes and colors and the sweetness of possibility hanging in the air all make looking for patterns enjoyable (pattern - n., the set of shapes to cut out and sewing directions for a particular design).
And then my mom and I had to find cloth with which to make it. That was several trips to the fabric store, back and forth, "what about this," "no, I don't like it," "this would look really good," "that just isn't me," and so on and so forth. My mom can imagine what finished projects will look like really well. So when I hold up a bolt of cloth, she sees a design I have picked out and how it might fit on me. When I see a bolt of cloth, I see... a bolt of cloth. Also it turns out, sometimes the material is pretty, but wouldn't look good as a piece of clothing. Other times, the material looks boring, but makes a fantastic blouse. Mom can see that, I can't.
So the time I finally picked up a bolt that I liked and she said "I like that," was a rare occasion indeed, if not a small miracle. That was the end of the bickering and the beginning of the learning.
Learning to sew is both easier and more difficult than one would imagine. Hems and seams are easy, in concept. Some folding, some pinning, then sew in a straight line. It's the straight lines that get ya though, because the whole process depends on you feeding the material under the needle in a straight line. The guide lines on the machine are only so much help on that occasion. Add to the mix bias tape seams, gathers, curves and elastic, and you have a slew of theoretically simple tasks. Don't even get me started about the sewing machine itself. For something that is meant to simplify the process, it is suprisingly complex.
Yet it is between the mind and the hands that a task abandons simple and enters frustrating territory. On more than one occasion I had to pull and re-sew seams or pin, pin and re-pin the pieces. My mom has been sewing since she was a teenager, so for her, most of this comes rather naturally. So I know I could keep practicing and overcome these difficulties.
But I learned some other things about sewing during this process as well.
First, when I consider all the materials and all the time that goes into making one blouse or dress, I realized that the cost of a homemade shirt is comparable to the cost of a store bought one.
Second, when I buy a shirt, I know exactly what it looks like on me. If it doesn't look good, I don't buy it. When I sew a shirt, I'm taking a risk, betting that it will not only fit, but flatter, and if it doesn't, that it's fixable. Well, if neither of those holds, I've already bought the shirt, and there's no way I can return it. (The shirt I just finished looks nice, but it makes me look, ahem, bigger than I am.)
Third, and most importantly, with the previous two things considered, I have concluded that I prefer shopping to sewing. However, had I not at least tried, I would have spent the rest of my life thinking, "If only I knew how to sew, I would save so much money and I could make such cute outfits."
And so, even though I have no intention of making sewing a major hobby any time soon (and by soon, I mean ever), I'm still glad I had the experience.
P.S. - Is this post too long? too short? just right? I like my posts to be complete, but complete can be shorter if at this length you get bored or don't even read because it looks like it will take too long.
It was a good experience overall, I learned a lot. Picking out the pattern was fun, just like walking into a store or looking through a magazine can be fun. The shapes and colors and the sweetness of possibility hanging in the air all make looking for patterns enjoyable (pattern - n., the set of shapes to cut out and sewing directions for a particular design).
And then my mom and I had to find cloth with which to make it. That was several trips to the fabric store, back and forth, "what about this," "no, I don't like it," "this would look really good," "that just isn't me," and so on and so forth. My mom can imagine what finished projects will look like really well. So when I hold up a bolt of cloth, she sees a design I have picked out and how it might fit on me. When I see a bolt of cloth, I see... a bolt of cloth. Also it turns out, sometimes the material is pretty, but wouldn't look good as a piece of clothing. Other times, the material looks boring, but makes a fantastic blouse. Mom can see that, I can't.
So the time I finally picked up a bolt that I liked and she said "I like that," was a rare occasion indeed, if not a small miracle. That was the end of the bickering and the beginning of the learning.
Learning to sew is both easier and more difficult than one would imagine. Hems and seams are easy, in concept. Some folding, some pinning, then sew in a straight line. It's the straight lines that get ya though, because the whole process depends on you feeding the material under the needle in a straight line. The guide lines on the machine are only so much help on that occasion. Add to the mix bias tape seams, gathers, curves and elastic, and you have a slew of theoretically simple tasks. Don't even get me started about the sewing machine itself. For something that is meant to simplify the process, it is suprisingly complex.
Yet it is between the mind and the hands that a task abandons simple and enters frustrating territory. On more than one occasion I had to pull and re-sew seams or pin, pin and re-pin the pieces. My mom has been sewing since she was a teenager, so for her, most of this comes rather naturally. So I know I could keep practicing and overcome these difficulties.
But I learned some other things about sewing during this process as well.
First, when I consider all the materials and all the time that goes into making one blouse or dress, I realized that the cost of a homemade shirt is comparable to the cost of a store bought one.
Second, when I buy a shirt, I know exactly what it looks like on me. If it doesn't look good, I don't buy it. When I sew a shirt, I'm taking a risk, betting that it will not only fit, but flatter, and if it doesn't, that it's fixable. Well, if neither of those holds, I've already bought the shirt, and there's no way I can return it. (The shirt I just finished looks nice, but it makes me look, ahem, bigger than I am.)
Third, and most importantly, with the previous two things considered, I have concluded that I prefer shopping to sewing. However, had I not at least tried, I would have spent the rest of my life thinking, "If only I knew how to sew, I would save so much money and I could make such cute outfits."
And so, even though I have no intention of making sewing a major hobby any time soon (and by soon, I mean ever), I'm still glad I had the experience.
P.S. - Is this post too long? too short? just right? I like my posts to be complete, but complete can be shorter if at this length you get bored or don't even read because it looks like it will take too long.
June 9, 2008
Introduction - Take I
Hello, hello? Testing, testing... 1,2,3. Is this thing on? Oh, ok, here we go.
Hi everyone. My name is Bethany and I'm starting a blog.
(Ok, your turn, this is when you all say, "Hi Bethany" in unison, AA style. Not that I've actually attended an AA meeting, I'm just mimicking movies, which I assume mimic real life... sometimes. Or, if you prefer, this is when you can say, "Duh," if you think that's more appropriate. Anyway, moving on.)
I decided to create this space primarily for the purpose of keeping people (friends, loved ones, stalkers, etc.) up to date on major and minor events in my life, since, well, I'm kind of far away now. And I do mean events. I don't want this space degenerating into a meandering dribble of thoughts and opinions. I'm the only person who might possibly find that interesting, and even then I'm not so sure.
However, not much is actually happening in my life at the moment. Or day. Or week. Or month. (More on this later). And so, rather than let this space lay dormant until I get a job or a boyfriend or a tattoo or whatever, I'd like to try a couple of other things as well.
First, I have a couple of books of questions. Every now and then, I'll find one good question and answer it myself right here. Hopefully you'll answer it too, and then we'll know each other a little better. Or you can just read mine, it's ok, I don't mind opening up about myself. Transparency is cool. At least, I think it is.
Second, there is stuff happening in the world. Sometimes (::cough::) I have opinions on the world haps, and I like sharing them. So I'll share a little bit about current events and then my take on them. Who knows, this might be what evokes the most reaction from you guys, which would be cool. I know you'll probably disagree with me, and that's fine, please feel free to share. Also, more importantly, if I misunderstand or am misinformed about something, please correct me. It's ok, I can handle it. And if I can't, you're still safe because I'm too far away to actually do anything about it. Really though, I would rather be corrected than continue being wrong.
Ok, so that's what I want to "accomplish" with my blog. I've got several other things running around in my head, but this is enough for now.
Thanks for listening! You've been a great audience, and don't forget to tip your waitresses.
Hi everyone. My name is Bethany and I'm starting a blog.
(Ok, your turn, this is when you all say, "Hi Bethany" in unison, AA style. Not that I've actually attended an AA meeting, I'm just mimicking movies, which I assume mimic real life... sometimes. Or, if you prefer, this is when you can say, "Duh," if you think that's more appropriate. Anyway, moving on.)
I decided to create this space primarily for the purpose of keeping people (friends, loved ones, stalkers, etc.) up to date on major and minor events in my life, since, well, I'm kind of far away now. And I do mean events. I don't want this space degenerating into a meandering dribble of thoughts and opinions. I'm the only person who might possibly find that interesting, and even then I'm not so sure.
However, not much is actually happening in my life at the moment. Or day. Or week. Or month. (More on this later). And so, rather than let this space lay dormant until I get a job or a boyfriend or a tattoo or whatever, I'd like to try a couple of other things as well.
First, I have a couple of books of questions. Every now and then, I'll find one good question and answer it myself right here. Hopefully you'll answer it too, and then we'll know each other a little better. Or you can just read mine, it's ok, I don't mind opening up about myself. Transparency is cool. At least, I think it is.
Second, there is stuff happening in the world. Sometimes (::cough::) I have opinions on the world haps, and I like sharing them. So I'll share a little bit about current events and then my take on them. Who knows, this might be what evokes the most reaction from you guys, which would be cool. I know you'll probably disagree with me, and that's fine, please feel free to share. Also, more importantly, if I misunderstand or am misinformed about something, please correct me. It's ok, I can handle it. And if I can't, you're still safe because I'm too far away to actually do anything about it. Really though, I would rather be corrected than continue being wrong.
Ok, so that's what I want to "accomplish" with my blog. I've got several other things running around in my head, but this is enough for now.
Thanks for listening! You've been a great audience, and don't forget to tip your waitresses.
June 8, 2008
Sticking my big toe in the water
My thoughts are like sand at the beach. And like that sand, when it comes to picking a handful to share, I don't know where to begin and even when I do, they still manage to slide out of my grasp.
I feel like Lucy, like I've got some 'splaining to do. But where to begin? It's too late to really begin anything, I suppose. I've spent too long contemplating colors and names and fonts and background pictures. Only to still be almost completely unsatisfied. And in need of sleep.
I wanted to write a purpose statement here, because there are a few specific things I want to accomplish through this platform. Of course, I won't be able to accomplish any of it without you, my friends.
Ok, so there's one purpose statement: this isn't just about me. This is just one interface of many where I end and the world begins. Let's make the most of it.
P.S. - If I don't mention it anytime soon, remind me to say something about not taking myself too seriously.
I feel like Lucy, like I've got some 'splaining to do. But where to begin? It's too late to really begin anything, I suppose. I've spent too long contemplating colors and names and fonts and background pictures. Only to still be almost completely unsatisfied. And in need of sleep.
I wanted to write a purpose statement here, because there are a few specific things I want to accomplish through this platform. Of course, I won't be able to accomplish any of it without you, my friends.
Ok, so there's one purpose statement: this isn't just about me. This is just one interface of many where I end and the world begins. Let's make the most of it.
P.S. - If I don't mention it anytime soon, remind me to say something about not taking myself too seriously.
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