Intellectual Erection

(Revision of It's Like Sex... For Your Brain from March 16, 2012)

For those of you who have read my recent post on Pas·sion, you know that I'm looking for a little bit of fire in my life.  But fire comes in many shapes and sizes.  Though most of our brains skip immediately toe-curling, back-scratching heat when we think of "passion," it's a package that can present itself in the most unlikely of wrappings.

I once described my art history senior seminar on the art of ancient Gandhara as "a weekly three-hour long mind-fuck."  And I stand by that original statement.  But my recent obsession with passion has forced me to reconsider precisely what I deem worthy of the term.

It's no surprise that at the end of the day, the last place any student wants to find herself is on campus.  As long as there is nothing requiring us to remain there, we book it home, with a little extra bounce in our step.  After spending long hours pulling out our own hair in Bailey-Howe, glancing at the clock every three minutes in lectures that seem to drag on forever and downing coffee like there's diamonds buried at the bottom of the mug, we are done.

This is what we want to do on our walks home.

Unfortunately, the jaded attitude that so many of us cannot help but attain after years of the same, stressful routine, prevents us from taking part in one of the most exciting and commonly overlooked perks of being an undergrad:  free lectures!

I realize that doesn't sound exciting, but bear with me here.

Be Here, Now

(Revision of Beautiful Destruction from April 20, 2012)

In the Spring of 2008, I went to my first music festival.  Mountain Jam boasted a variety of jam bands and general hippie debauchery.  It was a weekend filled with spontaneity, dancing and interesting encounters. But it's one encounter that sticks out clearly in my memory... my encounter with Robbie.

Robbie introduced himself on our first night at Hunter Mountain.  He saw us cooking and offered conversation in exchange for company.

"Man, I got three bags of rice and a sheet of acid."

He was a completely festied out wook through and through.  But what I remember even more clearly than his general dirty demeanor was the book he gave us to thumb through while he made his daily rounds through the festival.

It was called "Be Here Now," by Ram Dass.  To make one long, trippy story short, Doctor Dass tells us all to live now, in this very moment.

Pas·sion /ˈpaSHən/

noun
1 strong and barely controllable emotion.
2 a state or outburst of such emotion
synonyms
rage - ardor - anger - love


(Revision of Shameless, Passionless from April 3, 2012)


Over the last few weeks, I've found myself absolutely, wildly, unapologetically enamored and consumed by my new favorite television show: Shameless.  The American version is based on a British television show that originally aired in 2004.  The show depicts a raging alcoholic of a father who somehow managed to keep his six children alive just long enough to learn how to raise themselves.  Eldest sister and pseudo-mother, Fiona, runs the show at the whopping age of twenty one.  She's followed by hottie mcsmartypants seventeen-year old brother, Lip (short for Philip) who is then followed by not-so-in-the-closet sixteen-year old Ian, ten-going-on-thirty year old Debbie, somewhat creepy and quasi-arsonist sociopathic eight-year old Carl and little no-one-knows-why-but-black baby Liam.  


In other words, it's absolutely phenomenal.  

However, like every other ShoTime television series (Weeds, Pushing Daisies, Nurse Jackie, etc.) the show oftentimes flirts with line between hilarious and utterly depressing.  Yet, the reality that certain happy events are often tainted with depressing side effects and specific depressing situations are often sprinkled with hilarious moments, comforts me in a way that I struggle to articulate properly.  However, this mixture of emotions also forces me to question something that I realize I have been avoiding for quite some time.  


Where has my passion gone?

Social Networking: It's Not For Everyone

I suck at it.  I'm always the last one to discover new, awesome sites online.  I was dead last to get a Facebook, how the hell does Twitter even work? and I'm relatively certain that I'm the only one in our class who has no effing idea what "Reddit" is.  I'm not cut out to be an online person, apparently.  I love procrastinating as much as the next person, but I suppose I'm somewhat old-fashioned about it.  I stick to facebook stalking losers I went to high school with and yes, I still Stumble.

I think a big part of my lack of interest with online phenomena is the fact that I don't really spend all that much time on my computer.  If I'm having a lazy day, I'd really much rather watch a movie than screw around online.  Don't get me wrong, I've been obsessed with a number of different, useless websites.  I don't think there was a day in the summer of 2010 that I didn't see what other people texted last night... but still, I always feel behind every one else.

Case in point:  #whatshouldwecallme

I recently added a Tumblr account to my (slow)growing presence online and was incredibly excited to find a wildly amusing Tumblr to follow known as #whatshouldwecallme.   I sat on my couch for hours laughing to myself about stupid little things like this:

Looking Back On This Semester

Beautiful Destruction

As I lay on my stomach reading Harry Potter on my front lawn, listening to the birds chirping and enjoying the cool breeze, I can’t help feel perfectly content with this beautiful, eighty-degree weather.  Even as a plastic bag blows across my ankles and the large sewage trucks backs up with an earsplitting, “BEEP…BEEP,” I find myself smiling and realizing that despite the somewhat disgusting atmosphere that inherently comes with living on Buell Street, it is precisely these moments that I’m wishing for more of.

I know a lot of us seniors have been posting about our inevitable futures that are about to begin taking shape over the next month and a half but those of you who are fortunate enough to have at least another semester left, if not more, have to understand that at this point in the game, it’s the only thing that matters.   Every little thing in daily life I can some how relate to my impending graduation, try as might to forget it.  I can’t help but feel an unbearable combination of excitement, nostalgia and flat-out fear at almost any given moment of the day. 

What I’ve come to realize is that all the little things we all bitch about (i.e. the moldy bathrooms in our apartments, our roommates who NEVER do their own dishes, the front lawn that is ALWAYS covered in plastic bags and dog shit) are the things that we are going to miss the most. 

As my roommates continue to be consumed with their academic lives and boyfriends, I can’t help but be saddened by the fact that they don’t seem to care that in a month and a half, not only will we no longer live together… we’ll be those types of friends that only see each other once every few months.  And that sucks.

Who the Fuck Are You??

So I woke up and found myself in quite the pickle.  There is a total stranger asleep on my couch.

I mean right now, as I am typing this post, she is passed out on my couch.

I'm not sure exactly how to explain my mixed feelings of exhaustion, confusion and utter shock.  Now in her defense, Bassnectar was last night... so, someone being super fucked up on a Tuesday doesn't really surprise me.  (Being so fucked up that you stumble unknowingly into someone else's apartment and sleep on their couch... well, that's another story).

But now I'm faced with a predicament that I truly never thought I'd have to deal with... again.  I mean, I feel like we've all dealt with similar situations in the dorms.  Some drunk fool stumbles into your room because they think they're on the third floor but they're actually on the fourth floor.  But usually, these fools realize that they're not in the right place, say, "Oh, shit, sorry," and leave.

This girl is under the covers.  She took off her shoes, left her keys on the table, found herself a blanket and then passed out on my couch.

She doesn't even go here.

WHAT!?

Now I have no idea what to do.  Do I wake her up and force both of us into an awkward situation in which I don't think I could help myself from exclaiming, "Um, Who the fuck are you!?"

Or do I wait for her to wake up on her own and hopefully out of sheer shame sprint out of my apartment?

Honestly, and I know many of you may disagree, but I'm going with the latter.  It's 8:00 in the morning and Wednesdays are the one day a week I get to sleep in.

Moral of the story?  Don't be that girl who wakes up in a random apartment.  Oh, and for the love of God, lock your doors.

Ode To College

As I sat and stared at imovie on my computer screen, I did my best to think of something awesome to make my final vlog about.  But instead, I found myself watching an incredibly random array of short videos I had acquired over the last four years of my life.  And then it hit me.  A completely unoriginal idea.  A video montage.  I know I'm not the first and I could not possibly be the last, but I decided to condense my entire college career into one short youtube video.  It may not seem like much, but it's just one quick, ridiculous glimpse into my quick, ridiculous college life.  Enjoy.

Note: The quality is often quite poor.
Oh, and in case any of you were wondering here are the times and places of each clip:
1:  Red Rocks, September 2008
2:  Green between UHeights and Harris/Mill: November 2008
3:  Random Dorm Room:  February 2009
4:  Ladakh, India: May 2009
5:  Indus River, India: May 2009
6:  Club Volleyball National Tournament, Louisville, Kentucky: March 2010
7:  Streets of Italy: March 2011
8:  My Little Bro's Preschool Graduation: May 2011
9:  Coming Home from Electric Forest, Random Rest Stop in NY:  July 2011


...Disclaimer:  I do not claim to own any dance moves presented in this clip...