deviantsimian

So, the psych department's "How to Get into Grad School" thing was today. Jeezly beezly am I not prepared for any of that. I'm not even sure what my standing as a student is; I think I am a junior, it's possible I'm a senior, but where I've added the second major, I don't even know. As much as I want to, and intend to, go on with my studies, I may need to take a mental health break and just take a semester off. I probably won't, but I'll consider it. With everything that is happening in life, and working, and going to school I am really starting to feel worn out and stretched a bit thin. I'm looking forward to winter break, and even considering only taking 3 classes next term, which I also know I won't do. I'm just a little tired, is all. But looking at the course requirements for grad programs and licensure requirements to be a counselor... it's daunting, to say the least. I can do it, of course, but it seems a bit overwhelming right now.

Also, if I haven't mentioned it, I really rather dislike one of my classes. The professor is a total mess, he hasn't returned any of our homework, or the midterm, and NOW he's added a project that we have to present in groups to the class because we are supposedly all doing so well. That can't possibly be right; adding a presentation project with less than a month to go before the end of the term?? Not fair.

In other news: I'm exhausted, and had a(nother) pleasant dream about urinating on Trent Reznor.

Devyn broke a bone for the first time last night. We've just gotten home from the emergency room, and need to get up relatively early to have a proper cast put on. I am tired. Silly kids and their BMXing.

Also, I hate Martin Lawrence. Furthermore, the fuk is a "Double-Dutch Bus"?

Good idea: Eating a balanced diet that includes vegetables.

Bad idea: Eating half a pound of raw carrots for breakfast when your stomach isn't accustomed to vegetables pretty much at all. Saturday was double plus unfun.

Aside from my dietary mishaps, things are going along... well, not smoothly, but going, anyway. Devyn pitched a screaming fit the other night because he wanted to go out to some indoor skate park and be out until 1am and I said no way. He did not like that. Then he calmed down and we worked out a compromise, which involves him being able to go to this skate park during a normal time of night with a couple friends, with my supervision. Honestly, I think it'll be kind of cool to actually see him ride his BMX... assuming he doesn't hurt himself, in which case I will be a vomiting pile of useless.

Also, for a hilarious time, try throwing a (clean, unused, still in its wrapper) tampon at a thirteen year old boy and shouting "Huttah!"

So, I've made this before, and it may not be new, but it is new to me, and something I'd like to claim credit for. I don't believe in measuring for the most part, so here are the ingredients for awesomeness:

potatoes, onions, garlic, corn, curry powder, black pepper, salt, milk (dairy or soy), vegetable oil, wonton wrappers

boil the potatoes, onions and garlic all together. I used minced garlic and dried onion flakes. whatev. when the potatoes are sufficiently cooked, mash them. mash the hell out of them. mash them like they'd sniffed your grandma. add in some of the broth and the boiled onion and garlic, a dash of salt and pepper, a splash o milk and curry powder to taste. Mix thoroughly to coat the potatoes evenly with the curry. then dump in some corn. mix again.

Now comes the fun part: wrap spoonfuls of the curried potatoes in the wonton wrappers and fry em. Fry em like a baby on the sidewalk on a hot day in August in Arizona. That is, until crispy, but not overdone.

Srsly, these are delicious. It also works well with chunky cinnamon applesauce in place of curried potatoes. I'm starting to wonder if there is nothing that can't be made more delicious by frying it to a pleasant crisp in an eggroll wrapper....

BTW, life sucks hard, but I'm in a fair mood right now. Cooking does that for me for some reason.

I was born with the wrong sign
In the wrong house
With the wrong ascendancy
I took the wrong road
That led to the wrong tendencies
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme
On the wrong day of the wrong week
I used the wrong method with the wrong technique

Wrong

Wrong

There's something wrong with me chemically
Something wrong with me inherently
The wrong mix in the wrong genes
I reached the wrong ends by the wrong means
It was the wrong plan
In the wrong hands
The wrong theory for the wrong man
The wrong eyes on the wrong prize
The wrong questions with the wrong replies

Wrong

Wrong

I was marching to the wrong drum
With the wrong scum
Pissing out the wrong energy
Using all the wrong lines
And the wrong signs
With the wrong intensity
I was on the wrong page of the wrong book
With the wrong rendition of the wrong look
With the wrong moon, every wrong night
With the wrong tune playing till it sounded right yeah

Wrong

Wrong
(Too long)
Wrong
(Too long)

I was born with the wrong sign
In the wrong house
With the wrong ascendancy
I took the wrong road
That led to the wrong tendencies
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme
On the wrong day of the wrong week
I used the wrong method with the wrong technique

Wrong

You know, until this very moment, I thought Matt was listening to some sort of jazz-blues thing in the kitchen while he does dishes. Just some sort of rambling, no-hurry kind of relaxing thing without vocals, just someone having a bit of fun with their guitar. Matt is not listening to anything while he does the dishes. I am listening to Devyn play the guitar.

Things have been fairly stressful of late, but with enough smatterings of fun thrown in to keep me from completely losing my shit. We saw Zombieland last night, that was a lot of fun, and if I had nightmares I don't remember them (yes, funny zombie movies are still zombie movies, and I am still nightmare-prone). Sunday night, we did a family dinner thing at my parents house, which was supposed to be a gathering of my parents' children and their children and significant others.... My parents invited themselves to dinner because, well, they live there and, surprisingly, a good time was still had by all. My mother is naturally acting like she and I haven't been fighting, and that there is nothing wrong between us at all. The only difference is that she hasn't tried to kiss me goodbye the last couple of times I've been there (probably because I've walked away from her before she can properly get near me). My older brother didn't come because no one has been able to get a hold of him for months (apparently my mom has, but she didn't bother to tell him why we wanted to talk to him), but the rest of us were there and it was actually kind of nice. We're planning the next one to be at my place next month. My parents have invited themselves to that as well.

Another week.

Thankfully, the issue with my gas tank turned out to be relatively inexpensive, but weird. There was a spider and its web clogging the tank.

Apparently, my mother and I are fighting again. I mean, not that it really ever stops, but we'd reached a point where we were at least civil to one another. She's furious that I asked my father to go to a meeting with Devyn's school and not her. In all fairness, it's possible I should have at least mentioned it to her, but considering that she's barely said two words to me in over a month, I didn't really feel like breaking that blessed silence. Her husband also opted not to mention it to her (really we sort of discussed that it would be better that way). But now she's ranting and railing at me about how I've destroyed her marriage by conning her husband into breaking their joint trust agreement, whatever that means. She's saying all of these vicious and cruel things to hurt me, and when I respond calmly and carefully it angers her even more. I really wish that I could simply cut ties with her altogether, but that doesn't seem to be a viable option until the custody thing has been settled.

I tried to fill my empty gas tank today. About 1/2 gallon went in, and then it backed up and spilled all over the side of my car. I figured it was the pump, so I tried another one and the same thing happened. I'm guessing this is going to be expensive, not to mention dangerous. Fun fun.

In other news, Devyn seems to be keeping his nose out of trouble for the moment, and is being more agreeable than ever at home. Thank goodness for small miracles.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Over and Over again.

Life's not quite in crisis, but when the school says they may need to file a CHINS petition, it's probably a fine time to worry. Some more.

Bleh. I'm tired.

Devyn is sleeping at the moment, probably on my couch. Safely under my roof. This pleases me.

My Philosophy and Religions of the Eastern World class starts in approximately one hour. This pleases me.

Aside from a brief, irritating call about how Devyn isn't brushing his teeth enough, my mother has not spoken to me in a week. This pleases me.

Barring the Stupid, this day promises to be good.

After a series of difficult events, it's been decided that Devyn will return to Salem, and that I will have custody of him. My father and I discussed the idea of joint legal custody, and that seems like the best idea at the moment. This has been a very trying and tiring time, but I'm confident that things will be better going forward.

I start school full time a week from tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to it. I've got two psych classes, a philosophy class and Spanish. If I can balance everything that is going on, I will be in good shape. For now, I'm taking a deep breath, sighing in relief, and bracing for what will come.

The summer term is finally at its end. I have completed and turned in my philosophy final (which of course was god awful), I've already got my grade for Spanish (which I'm disappointed with) and I'm preparing to relax for a couple weeks and enjoy a whole lotta WoW.

I'm also preparing to be horrendously depressed for a while. I found another bag of pot in Devyn's wallet today. Matt and I have made the rather difficult choice to not have him back to spend weekends with us, as he clearly does not respect the rules of our home. I'll visit him in Braintree, but I cannot have him bringing drugs into my house.

My mother told me, when I was a bit older than Devyn that she hoped I would have a child just like me, so that I would know what she'd been through. I thought it was a stupid thing to say then, and I think it a repugnant thing to say now. Forget me, what I've been through in my life, what I put my parents through, what I'm going through with my child; think about my child himself. Why would anyone curse an innocent to a life of unpleasantness to get revenge against another? Now, I don't believe that my mother's words brought this situation into being (though I will say that, as with me, she has some responsibility to bear), but it seems such a cold thing to say, and colder still to actually will that such a thing would happen. But maybe I'm being unfair.

I haven't had much to say lately. I haven't been writing here, and I haven't been writing elsewhere, unless you count short papers for classes. I start writing here sometimes, then promptly delete it, before even posting at all. I still don't have much to say, but I want to say something. So, I'm going to post an entry from my private journal, from a little over two years ago. It may have been cross posted here then; I'm too lazy to check. I don't think so though. Either way, read or don't, it's just me talking about me, as usual.
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i cannot afford to miss another class. this blue feeling needs to go the fuck away.

I had a rather lengthy conversation with a friend via email recently that I thought might be worthwhile enough to post in a slightly abridged version here. I've decided against that, however, because the conversation reached something of a fevered pitch eventually, and left my friend seemingly exhausted and unhappy. While it was certainly an interesting conversation, I think it best not to go posting such a personal experience for the World to see. I will sum up by saying that the conversation generally had to do with human nature, whether or not there is some inherent good in humans, and ultimately the nature of Hope and the possibility/impossibility of its destruction. What follows is a couple parts of my end of the conversation.

"I forget which of the philosophers we are studying said it, I think it might be Hume, but there is one particular philosopher who posed that human beings have some innate benevolence in them, but that we have a choice to stray from this. I remarked that I disagree with that for a large portion of the population; I think most people are nasty little thorns digging into each other and that the only reason most people have the inclination to be good is through social contract. Social contract theory poses that we have some idea of what is good to/for us as individuals and that we act not necessarily kindly but civilly towards one another out of of an implicit agreement that others will do the same. Some people have no trouble or remorse for breaching the contract out of a sadistic desire, self interest or lack of empathy. I know this doesn't really shed any light on the situation, but it is the way I think. In some ways, the contract has instilled in us some concept of goodness over time. Children, whom I believe to be inherently innocent, also seem at the earliest stages of development to have little concept of empathy. They are inherently selfish, and learn through social interaction how to behave acceptably. Some people never learn this, and that is sometimes a flaw in the chemical composition of their brains and sometimes a failing on the part of the many. I don't really know what I'm getting at with this. Maybe I'm wrong and there is some inherent goodness in people afterall. I believe in objective right and wrong and objective, absolute good, but I don't believe it is inherent in the many."


"A large part of why I want to teach, and to teach the younger people in our society, is to help them improve themselves. To be better, perhaps even good. But who am I to decide what is good, what is better, what is best? I am a human, with all the typical flaws and faults, perhaps more than others. I used to feel a sense of detachment from humanity, that I could do as I pleased and it didn't affect me how it affected others. I grew, I changed. Perhaps I can help others to do the same. I used to be one of those vicious little thorns. I like to think I've become more like the rosebud. Not quite in bloom, but on its way, and containing potential."

I have never failed in philosophy class.

It is humbling.

Guess who's officially registered for four classes in the fall!!

Me!!

I think I might be morally opposed to abortion. I've always held the belief that a woman should have the right to choose what to do with her body and I've even stated on occasion that a fetus is rather like a parasite, at least in the early stages, as it can't live outside the mother's body on its own. But, somewhere along the line, I've started to think that maybe a fetus is more human than parasite and that, in terms of potentiality, it may have a moral value and, dare I say it, a right to live. Now, the old argument goes along the lines that potentiality and actuality are different, and that just because something could potentially be does not necessarily actually make it be. But I'm starting to think that maybe it's more than simply a matter of potentiality. A fetus may actually be human, there may actually be some inherent value in it. This is sort of an odd feeling for me. I've always supported the pro-choice side, and while I'm far from protesting outside a clinic, I'm wondering if maybe I might switch sides.

On the other end of the life line, I am still in favor of a person's right to die with dignity and I'm leaning towards the opinion that the death penalty is quite alright. Why are those lives any less valuable than that of a fetus? I don't necessarily know they are. Well, criminals' lives may be less valuable, actually. See, I think that a person has the right to choose when he or she will die and how. Mind, I no longer subscribe to the Church of Euthanasia's wacky idea that everyone should just kill themselves, but I think that a clear thinking, well reasoned adult should have the right to end their own life, particularly in instances of extreme illness where prolonged suffering is all they have to look forward to. Life holds many wonders, and I suppose there is always hope, but ultimately all things that live will die and I don't exactly fear death. I'm not looking forward to dying, personally, but when the time comes, my only real concern is the unhappiness it will cause in those left behind. Their sadness over my death is unavoidable, though, as they would suffer the same sadness regardless of how and why I die. As for the death penalty, I have two sort of opposing views that I've been attempting to reconcile within my own mind. I believe that every thinking being in this world has the ability to grow and change. Including criminals. And I don't mean the "Oh I found Jesus, so you can let me out of prison" pretend growth. I mean that I believe that every person has the capacity to truly feel remorse for their misdeeds and to resolve not to commit those deeds again, regardless of finding a deity or not. Some people, however, choose not to change, for whatever reason, and those people who refuse to grow and change, who will continue to commit atrocious acts (rape, murder, molestation and things of that order) forfeit their right to live among us.
I haven't rightly worked out my total opinion, and I couldn't quite figure out how to work my concept of the innocence of children into this, but that's what I've got so far.

At first, I thought maybe I just like being the Big Fish in the Little Pond, y'know? Maybe I just like being able to feel superior to other people because I am a touch smarter and maybe deeper in thought than them. I know it's true some of the time; I like to feel that I am Better Than I Am, which also happens to be Better Than You. But tonight, I started to see what a meeting of the minds in a classroom can be like. It was good. I argued rather neatly against the existence of God, and then argued rather persuasively for the existence of God, or an Ordering Presence, at least. I used the information and, dare I say it, knowledge that I have gathered to hold my own in intellectual discourse. NEAT. I pass out from exhaustion and vodka now. Oh, but first... my philosophy class this term seems like it will roxxor my soxxorz, despite the dizzying amount of work it will require. I LIKE having to work for my grades, for some sick reason, so this should be a lot of fun.... HUNGRY!! Have Pizza NOW!!! Then sleeps. Oh, such sleeps I will has.