Ahahaha, wow.
I love how when I posted poetry, my blog stats died. Come on, am I the only one who finds art more interesting than the randomness that often inhabits my life? Especially the Brooks poem….ahhhh. I’ve loved it for years, since the first time I read it. (Even though I didn’t fully understand it at the time. Heck, who says that I fully understand it now?)
So. I just found out that Wellesley Volunteers is hosting a Haircut Donation. For the Pantene Pro-V “Beautiful Lengths” program. On my birthday. I am SO TEMPTED.
I’ve donated my hair twice. The second time was for “Beautiful Lengths”, which I trust a lot more than Locks of Love. I was thinking about doing it again after I get back for Spring semester (aka, when it warms up).
Problems with me donating my hair on my birthday:
1. It’s going to get cold. Hair might be useful.
2. I was also thinking about getting a helix piercing. Doing both on the same day might be a little drastic?
3. …this one might be a little vain, but… Brad really likes my long hair, and I told him I wouldn’t cut it until after January.
4. Also kind of strange…my roommate has very short hair and multiple ear piercings. Am I the only one who thinks that it might be weird to randomly start pseudo-looking like my roommate, even if it is completely unintentional?
Good things about donating my hair now:
1. Well, donating is always good.
2. It’s really convenient that I can make such a change on my 18th birthday…it’ll help make the day eventful.
3. There’s less chance of my hair freezing in the winter.
4. It can grow out for a month before I go home…although I’m not sure how much that would be…
Well, I guess I still have two weeks to think it over.
Poetry.
Just some poems that I find particularly lovely, in their own way.
The Sunne Rising – John Donne
BUSIE old foole, unruly Sunne,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windowes, and through curtaines call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?
Sawcy pedantique wretch, goe chide 5
Late schoole boyes, and sowre prentices,
Goe tell Court-huntsmen, that the King will ride,
Call countrey ants to harvest offices;
Love, all alike, no season knowes, nor clyme,
Nor houres, dayes, moneths, which are the rags of time. 10
Thy beames, so reverend, and strong
Why shouldst thou thinke?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a winke,
But that I would not lose her sight so long:
If her eyes have not blinded thine, 15
Looke, and to morrow late, tell mee,
Whether both the’India’s of spice and Myne
Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with mee.
Aske for those Kings whom thou saw’st yesterday,
And thou shalt heare, All here in one bed lay. 20
She’is all States, and all Princes, I,
Nothing else is.
Princes doe but play us; compar’d to this,
All honor’s mimique; All wealth alchimie.
Thou sunne art halfe as happy’as wee, 25
In that the world’s contracted thus;
Thine age askes ease, and since thy duties bee
To warme the world, that’s done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art every where;
This bed thy center is, these walls, thy spheare. 30
“I died for Beauty” – Emily Dickinson
I died for Beauty — but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining Room –
He questioned softly “Why I failed”?
“For Beauty”, I replied –
“And I — for Truth — Themself are One –
We Brethren, are”, He said –
And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night –
We talked between the Rooms –
Until the Moss had reached our lips –
And covered up — our names –
Boy Breaking Glass – Gwendolyn Brooks
Whose broken window is a cry of art
(success, that winks aware
as elegance, as a treasonable faith)
is raw: is sonic: is old-eyed première.
Our beautiful flaw and terrible ornament.
Our barbarous and metal little man.
“I shall create! If not a note, a hole.
If not an overture, a desecration.”
Full of pepper and light
and Salt and night and cargoes.
“Don’t go down the plank
if you see there’s no extension.
Each to his grief, each to
his loneliness and fidgety revenge.
Nobody knew where I was and now I am no longer there.”
The only sanity is a cup of tea.
The music is in minors.
Each one other
is having different weather.
“It was you, it was you who threw away my name!
And this is everything I have for me.”
Who has not Congress, lobster, love, luau,
the Regency Room, the Statue of Liberty,
runs. A sloppy amalgamation.
A mistake.
A cliff.
A hymn, a snare, and an exceeding sun.
Mantras. (which may or may not be true)
My classes are not beyond me.
It is not too late to do better. I have two months.
I am not a bad person for not understanding time management.
I will pass all of my classes.
I actually do care. And not just because my parents care.
I will do better. I will do better. iwilldobetteriwilldobetteriwill…
I realized why I love Thoreau a few breakfasts ago.
The fall leaves and cold wind never fails to make me smile. Some days the clouds and mist and the swirling, ahhh – the tragic beauty. I want so much to lay in the grass and be. This is true living, Thoreau says. This is escape, I say. I’ve always wanted escape, and Thoreau only validates this by telling me that my secret temptation is something that should be sought after, and with haste!
I’ve decided that I have a psychological problem. I create a fake reality. It is a coping mechanism. In this reality, I have nothing to do. Therefore, I have no stress. Therefore, I can do what I want.
I do this because I know that I will freak out if I fully realize all the things I actually have to do. I will break down. Sure, I can say the sentence, “I have to write an essay, do calculus homework and econ homework”, but I don’t actually mean it. Usually I can pull out of this thought process in order to get stuff done at the very last second, but obviously it is not as amazing as it would have been otherwise. I do not procrastinate, I hide under mental covers.
Anyway, eff this emo-ness. I’m sure my problems are somehow related to my brain chemicals, and therefore any negative emotions at this time are irrelevant.
Good things about the last 24 hours:
WZLY! All of it, ahhhh. This is what I should be doing.
An amazing nacho lunch today! Jalapenos remind me of home.
Getting a Spongebob postcard from Felipe. =D
Wearing my comfy “grandpa” sweaters.
Apparently!
This blog won’t make sense unless you read my last one.
Lawl, talk about coincidences.
According to Maria and some resourcefulness, the girl who has a radio show before me is the same girl that I want to strangle because of her fake polite laugh.
Fantastic.
Guys, girls, radio.
One of the things that I miss the most about males is their voice.
Part of the reason that I’ve been watching “Tales of Mere Existence” videos for the past hour, definitely.
Of course, that’s not the only thing.
I miss being able to tell dead baby jokes and not feel guilty.
I miss being able to hug the awkward ones.
I miss being “one of the guys” and chilling, playing rock band.
I still laugh loudly (the girls in my dorm LOVE it), but I’ve become more annoyed with how some girls laugh. Emma, my roommate, is one of the few people who I don’t judge on this. Her laughter is practically silent, but it’s ok, even adorable in it’s delicate nature. But some girls, OMG. Giggling politely is so annoying. There’s one girl in my math class in particular…I want to strangle her.
I’ve noticed that there are more “classical prep” girls around than I’ve known in the past. I don’t really mind them, in some ways I kind of admire having a professional attitude. And I haven’t seen any open hostility, which is nice. But I feel very separate from them…I’m the kind of girl who will wear a men’s large flannel shirt and worn down jeans. I wear leather jackets. I am practically unaffected by the violence in movies like Fight Club, and greatly prefer those movies to romantic comedies. I own a tutu. I love awkward conversations most of the time. I laugh like an explosion, I have no sense of tact, I’m legally still a child.
But, all these things that make me atypical…kind of make me a bad ass. Actually, I’m not sure about that one, but that’s what Anna said, so I’ll go with it.
Ok, the most important part of this blog:
RADIO SHOW ANNOUNCEMENT: My show is now officially Thursdays 11pm – midnight. One hour, yes, and I’m perfectly fine with it (I asked for it, actually). I think I’m starting this Thursday, so woot. West Coasters should tune in at 8pm at wzly.net.
Yep, still the same Esther.
Remember that girl who told her Spanish teacher to shut up?
The one who told the class clown to f- off while her Physics teacher was standing right next to her?
Yeah, yesterday she basically compared her calculus professor to Stalin. To his face. And then she stalked his family, much to the annoyance of his wife.
…
Ok, neither of these were on purpose. The Stalin comment….some of us were at his office hours and he said something along the lines of “Sometimes manual labor is actually extremely beneficial”. The strange way my mind works, I immediately connected this statement to communism, and realized that it was something that Stalin would say to the USSR: “By doing seemingly meaningless hard labor, you are greatly helping your people! Good job comrades!” So, of course, like a fool I said was I was thinking. The Dower-ites that I was with were rightfully amazed that I was so audacious. One of them, after laughing: “This is tact, according to Esther.” Aka, I have none. But at least he realized that I didn’t actually think he was a tyrant…
And then. So, bear in mind that this is the same day (aka, yesterday). We have to turn our homework in at 5pm. I ran out of my dorm at 5:10pm to the science center to turn it in. I’m almost there, and I pass my First Year Mentor (who is also my Supplemental Instructor for calculus). Since she is my Supplemental Instructor, she knows exactly why I am running to the science center, and she starts exasperatingly pointing to my left.
At this point, it’s important to realize the setting. The Science Center is directly in front of me. I am on a narrow, slightly hidden path surrounded by trees. To the left, past the trees, is a big open area with a few paths before College Rd. The path that I am on is on a slight hill, so when I look out to the open area, I can clearly see my calculus professor walking with his family out to College Rd. Even in that split second, I noticed the suitcase style bag that undoubtedly held the homework.
And so, in all my desperation, I unconsciously yell “FRICK!” and book it down a connecting path to reach him. I run for speed, not grace, so he hears me before I even reach them. At this point, I’ve been running for a while (from the dorm to the science center, from the path to his family), so I initially just hand him the homework without explanation. After some words of surprise, he actually takes it (which was awesome). Of course, while he is talking, I can’t help but focus on his beautiful children. His redheaded three year old looks up at me with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation.
This might seem strange, but I really miss kids. I used to help with the 1-2 year olds at my church, and so my child-loving self could not be contained as I stood awkwardly with his family. It was only a little bit awkward, simply because my math prof is kind of an awkward guy…but it definitely got more awkward once I noticed the unamused look on his wife’s face. And I want to give her some credit, since she has three children under the age of four, so she’s probably hella tired all the time. But still.
This whole event was kind of in a blur of motion and unimportant conversation, but even as I started to plan a way out, I realized that I was going to walk back to my dorm. This is significant because I was going to dinner with the other girls at a different dorm, one across from College Rd. But, I decided that I did not want to make this walk with my math teacher’s family, as it would be the very definition of awkward. So, I leave, and walk back to Dower. But, to get to Dower, I have to go back on that path where I’m parallel to College Rd, but hidden and slightly elevated. As I’m walking back, I realize that I can still see their family below me, and that they probably can’t see me. This is extremely uncomfortable for me, because now I feel like a major stalker.
So I run back to Dower and collapse on the couch. And I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Incidentally, Meredith saw the whole scene from a distance. She describes it thusly:
A cute, idealistic family of five is walking down a path. A redheaded toddler runs in front of her mother pushing a stroller. Then, a dark figure quickly descends upon them, her hair wildly flying behind her…
I still can’t get over the fact that I apparently have to consciously NOT stalk my math professor’s family. *facepalm*
Random bits.
1. I auditioned for a student run show today with one of the girls from my dorm. I don’t expect to get cast; I only auditioned for my friend Meredith, because she is producing the show, and she wanted more people to audition.
I think a part of me has always wanted to do formal drama, but it’s one of those things that’s hard to start doing (especially when there are people who have been doing it their whole life). I think that’s one of the problems with Wellesley…there are plenty of new things that I am trying, but some things are difficult because others have already mastered them. (i.e. music and drama). I’m not playing clarinet, because I’m not good enough to get free (for credit) lessons. Sometimes I walk past the windows where students are practicing… and I wish I could create. It’s made me realize that if I have a kid, I want them to learn an instrument at an early age. And no, I’m not going to be a super stressful parent…I just want them to be able to create an emotion (if they so choose). Whether it’s through music, art, drama, anything. (Calculus? Ehhhhh.)
2. I tried to get a helix ear piercing two weeks ago to no avail. But I’m going on my 18th birthday.
3. Please tell me that I’m not the only one who feels behind on their studies….I’m doing well in my Econ and English class, but Calculus and Arabic are brutal. I’m glad that I’m taking Calc pass/fail, but then there’s that little voice in the back of my mind that wonders if I will pass. I met with my Arabic TA today, and I think that I’m going to be doing that a lot more in the future.
I don’t know…there’s a lot of resources for students here, which is awesome. Up until now, I haven’t really wanted to use them….it’s really difficult for me to ask for help, especially here I think. It’s not because I’m so proud that I think that I don’t need it (HA), it’s more like…I don’t want to show others that I am not naturally talented at everything. Silly yes, but when you’re at a school where everyone is more/just as intelligent as you, your ego acts strangely.
4. Our campus is beautiful. Ahhh, the fall leaves. I really need to start carrying my camera around with me.
Anyway, now it’s time for me to stop procrastinating on calculus….
Dang it!
I can’t upload my show because the file is too big…effff.
Aw well. I’ve been dealing with technical difficulties all day, and at this point I’m not quite sure what else I can do. It’s ok though, since my first show was good, but some of the transitions were off.
Actually, funny story. So, I did my first show at 11, and it broadcast well. I was finishing up the recording, but after I stopped it and tried out the CD in my computer, it showed as blank. Which was terrible. So then, I brainstormed what I did wrong, and did another hour show at 1. I used the same CD to record the second show, and about 20 minutes in, the CD said that it was full. I was confused by then, but then I just decided to go on with it. At the end, I finalized the recording and popped the CD in my computer…to find my first show! And those 20 minutes of my second show. Ahhh.
My first show had better music (well, debatable), but the second one definitely had better transitions. In both, I had to play HR (heavy rotation) songs, so that’s why these playlists don’t add up to one hour:
11:00 show:
(One HR song worth remembering) “All is Love” by Karen O for the Where the Wild Things Are soundtrack
“Hey Jude” – The Beatles (a shout out to my friend Maria, who texted me after I started my show.)
“Skin Is, My” – Andrew Bird
“Air War” – Crystal Castles
“Something Is Not Right With Me (INST Version)” – Cold War Kids
“The Shape Is In A Trace” – Thurston Moore
“Doubt/Hope” – Wildbirds and Peacedrums
“Cape Canaveral” – Conor Oberst
“Heart Swells/Pacific Daylight Time” – Los Campesinos!
“The Bears Are Coming” – Late of the Pier
“Leeds United” – Amanda Palmer
1:00 show:
“Formed a Band” – Art Brut
“Let’s Dance to Joy Division” – The Wombats
“Happens to Us Otherwise” – Bound Stems
“Profanity Prayers” – Beck
HR worth remembering: The Ravonettes
“Something” – The Beatles
“Fireworks” – Animal Collective
“I’m Good, I’m Gone (Lykke Li cover) – Friendly Fires
“Young Friend” – Brooke Waggoner
“Mon vieux Lucien” – Jil Aigrot
“Step Into My Office, Baby” – Belle and Sebastian
“Don’t You Want Me” – The Human League
“Through the Hosiery” – Crystal Castles
If you guys want, when I actually get a scheduled show, I’ll try to record it in smaller chucks. Maybe I would have to email it to ya’ll, because I think the max for blogging is 1.2 MB, which is barely anything. Or maybe I’ll get a slot that makes it easy to listen to in California and you guys can stream it. Anyway…I’ll work this out later.
Success!
WZLY (Wellesley’s radio station) finally has a live stream over the interwebs!
Click “listen”, yo.
I’m still interning, so I don’t have a show yet. The schedule is also on that page, so make sure you’re streaming while someone is playing something. =P
Actually, I intern on the Saturday, 10am – noon slot. And, I think I’m doing my hour show this weekend…(it’s part of finishing up the interning process). But, you know, if you don’t want to wake up to listen to me at 8am (Pacific Coast Time) on a Saturday, that’s totally understandable. Also, I’m recording it, so maybe I’ll post a mp3 of it to this blog? We’ll see.
The blessing/curse of Wellesley
I love practically everyone here. 99% of the young women I’ve met are down to earth and extremely likable.
One of the stereotypes of Wellesley is that it is full of rich snobs. This is not true.
I am currently residing in Wellesley’s smallest dorm: Dower House. It’s called a house because it is. There are two stories, and forty people live here. Most of the residents here are first-years. In most of the “college insider books” the segment about Wellesley says that Dower is one of the worst dorms. This is also untrue.
I’ve heard that it really depends on the people: some years Dower is awesome, other years it’s absolutely terrible. This year is definitely in the awesome category. I became really close to the other first years in my dorm within the orientation week. It’s almost scary…we do practically everything together. Some girls in other dorms talk about how they really don’t know most of the people in their dorm…I can’t relate at all. Wellesley is big on their community, and alumnae often refer to the “sisters” that they had during college. This statement, although possibly cheesy, is actually pretty true.
The main problem with this is that most of the people here are East Coasters. Which means that they can go home if they so choose. This weekend is three days, and therefore most of the girls in my dorm are home.
I’ve been hesitant to call Dower “home”, even though some of the girls here openly do. But I realized that Dower really is like my “home away from home”, and it’s been that way for a while now. Admitting that I am already so closely connected to a place and the people in it is actually kind of frightening…because I have been able to quickly break down social barriers, I have also left myself vulnerable. What if “Dower” as an idea means more to me than to others? I know this is not true, but when more than half of the people are gone, it’s easy to question.
Anyway. Back to Arabic homework.
