You're a kid sitting at your local card shop playing the hot new card game of the year. You've managed to beg your parents for money for a starter deck and a few booster packs, and you've picked the cards that you think are awesome and amazing and built together a collection that you think, will help you win at the game. When you hear about this amazing tournament, a chance to prove yourself against your fellows, your friends, and your rivals, you jump at the shot, managing to do all of your homework before 5 pm so that mommy-dearest (or daddy-dear) would drive you just in time for sign ups. Hyped up, pumped, and excited that you're even getting a chance to play the game with others (and with the idea of victory in the back of your mind), you sit down to your first match, opposite a kid who doesn't talk a lot and looks like his grandpappy just passed away.
As exuberent as you are, you can't get him to seemingly share in your enthusiasm. Instead, he trounces you in two easy games, and walks away with a condescending sneer while you look at the table in complete and utter disbelief. That just happened. What you considered to be a game of fun and magic has suddenly transformed into a massive wave of miasma towards your self-esteem, and one of two things happen; you either decide to suck it up and beat someone down next time to redeem yourself, or you decide to quit because 'it's just not fun anymore.'
What's interesting is that this situation doesn't happen just with simple card games that are the fancies of 5 year olds and basement-dwelling nerds. This situation occurs with just about anything that is even slightly competitive; the new kid on the football team who realizes that winning is more important (because the seniors who can beat him up easily told him so), the student who thinks science is amazing but gets ridiculed to the point of tears at a conference for not answering questions properly (or, at all), the new employee at work who is full of hope and confidence and ends up with the lowest performance at the end of the month and a 'meeting to discuss the future.' And just like our poor card-playing newbie, these people either decide to stick it out and improve, or decide to move on to greener pastures because either their ability or their ego is simply not up to snuff.
Life is a giant rat race, a competition for the best lifestyle that will satisfy all the wants someone could possibly have. To the druggie outside getting high with only a few dollars on his person, or the lax guy working at McDonalds without any long term plans, or even the girl who goes clubbing and wakes up to a new guy every day, life is something to be enjoyed and savored lest it slip away. It is difficult for such people to understand the straightlaced businessman on the CEO fast track, the premed who spends his entire life studying for a 4.0, or even the coworker who gives 110% for that promotion; why would anyone spend their life working when they can be out doing something that's actually fun? Likewise, our serious-business club members don't understand how someone can not do what they do because, well, what's the point of life if you can't 'win' (win, in this case, being a whimsical metaphor for personal fulfillment)?
It all boils down to what one's priorities are. To a lot of people, just living (much like 'just playing,' or 'just doing') is more than enough; the priviledge of being able to do it alone is fulfillment incarnate. Hence, they have already 'won,' attaining their prize and cheering like a kid with a new toy store as a birthday present. However, to many people, the focus in not on merely living, but in living well, in being able to do something competently to some personal standard of perfection. With such basic, fundamental terms being so radically different, it is no wonder that the two groups don't mix very well and in fact, abhor one another for such contrasting philosophies. But is there a middle ground?
Is there some way to combine the casual appreciation for doing something with the inward momentum to push forward and improve?
What casuals lack is a depth to appreciate their hobby to its fullness. After all, one cannot fully appreciate the scope of food without eating many, many types of food; one cannot claim to be well read without reading many genres, and one cannot certainly claim to be an adequate video-game enthusiast without the exposure to many different types. Like or dislike is not an issue here; in fact, the idea of being 'content' with one's current knowledge is the antithesis towards exploration. However, many casuals decide (wrongly) that maximizing personal enjoyment in a hobby is akin to appreciation whereas appreciation is deeply tied to an inward drive to learn every nuance, and see every sight. Appreciating something means the whole, not merely the portions that one would favor.
Somewhat elegantly so, serious business'ers confuse maximizing personal apprecation and skill with enjoyment; one should not enjoy doing something because one can do it well. People enjoy doing things because it appeals to them in some way, aesthetically, logically, emotionally, whatever it may be but certainly not simply because they do it well (save an ego trip). You can be the worse tennis player in the world but you can still enjoy it more than service-ace-man on the far court over there. Betting odds are, you're probably happier for it.
The middle ground between them is, to sound cliche, love. Think about what it means to love someone deeply. You enjoy them for who they are (even with flaws, mistakes, whatever have you) and yet you also want to learn more about them (even the flaws, mistakes, and whatever have you). Isn't that the same thing one does with a hobby they enjoy tremendously? Isn't that the sheer enjoyment for a hobby combined with the inward drive to learn more about it?
Thus, in my best imitation of Dumbledore, it is love that fuses the casual and the serious mindsets taking in only the good, and none of the bad. Who knows, maybe love really can save the world after all. If it can take the businessmen and the hippies, the power gamer and the new kid, the professional and the enthusiast and unify them in a common joy, who knows what else it can do for the rest of the world.
Today is sunny, but I'm inside where there's air conditioning. Thus, I am lazy.
Cheers.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Procrastination is your Friend
They say there are certain events that mark transitions in your life. The first time you go to school, teary-eyed that you have to leave the comforts of house and parents and warm milk; the first time you graduate from a school, only to realize that a bitter seven more years await you further down the road (decades more if you're like me); the first time you drive a car and realize, hey, you can run away if you want to. There are many such things that mark defining moments in your life, changing you from some naive little kid to whatever new, more sophisticated, and much more empowered identity you now are. Life, therefore, can be seen as a sequential series of 'level ups,' and it is by going from one level to the next that we grow, mature, and continue to live on.
However, much like an adventure video game that you enjoy playing (gurus and enthusiasts alike should hearken back to the days of Super Mario 64, Zelda Ocarina of Time, and Banjo-Kazooie (and for the record, the heavy bias towards Nintendo is intentional) ), there are times when you really don't want to level up. Why move onto the next level when this level is perfectly enjoyable? Why should you push on ahead when, hey, running around throwing bombs at goombas or shooting Deku thingamabobs is clearly enough enjoyment for right now? Even if that final archway leading to the boss of the epic dungeon you spent forty or fifty hours slogging through (WATER TEMPLE OMG) is glowing, open, and practically begging you to finish up, should you really go through? Sure, it's a culmination of all of your cumulative efforts; a gratification to see all you've done paid off but at the same time, there's always that wistful sadness.
I wonder sometimes whether as the Hero of Time steps through to Ganon with his shiny new Longshot or Mario to Bowser with a cape and some spare 'shrooms, if they feel at all a sense of 'this is the end.' And if they end up regretting not letting it last longer in the first place and enjoying the level, no matter how trying, annoying, frustrating, downright impossible or contorted or poorly designed it is.
As children, we spend much of our time racing through childhood like some gamer on a power-levelling trip. Forget 'having fun,' or 'relaxing;' children can't afford to in a world that has grown competitive beyond measure and youngsters spend days prepping for their MCAT at the age of eight with parents watching like hawks to insure they are properly 'developed.' When the world's youngest PhD is somewhere around 18 years old (barely legal to smoke and vote, much less attain a 5+ year degree in a competitive program) and the media glorifies prodigal talent from Shirley Temple to 10-year-old Lindsay Lohan to Taylor Swift, it seems like a waste for children to do things like lie on a grassy lawn and stare at the clouds, or play cook with mud and rocks. No, no, clearly children should be like adults 'pon birth; work hard, learn everything, and make six figures by the time they're twenty.
Acceleration is the name of the game and it doesn't get better when you get older. College courses used to be taught, well, in college; now, AP exams are standard for top ranking schools. Students do scientific research at the tender age of 16, present at conferences in front of distinguished faculty and advisors by 18, publish papers before they're legally allowed to drink on various aspects of science and generally, attain PhDs before they even hit the age of 30 (sometimes, MD/PhD for the super bright ones). The world is now one, gigantic fast track to the final boss door and the only promise is that past that, is this mythical thing called 'Happiness' that one will attain and everything will be ok again. The ending, the fulfillment, the boss down and peace in the realm of Hyrule ...
And then you're standing outside your job with your resume, your giant list of accomplishments, your hurdles and battles behind you and peace has returned to the kingdom and there's this sudden 'now what' feeling gripping your heart. What do you do now?
Perhaps you should have savored that epic dungeon, those classes you took, the brief specks of time you spent at coffee shops, the sun during the days that it was sunny rather than the fastest path through, the time you spent at books in your room late at night with blinds drawn. Maybe then you wouldn't have this huge hole in your heart that, despite the long list of achievements, merits, and amazing things you have done, none of it really feels real. So you go off again on a new epic quest; a new career, a new job, something to get back into hacking through demons to usurp a king, or save the world from some catastrophe and ...
This time, take it easy. Things will happen at their own pace. Take some time between your rush to cram biology and stats into your head and look at the sun; savor the feel of understanding, relish each word that you write. Because when it ends, it ends and you don't want to look around thinking 'oh, what do I do now?'
You'd rather look around and think 'That was amazing.' And that contentment is your promised reward at the end of it all.
Today is bright and sunny, but I'm stuck inside (ironically) doing work. However, you can bet that I'll try and savor it as much as I can- even if it means I miss a few deadlines in the process.
However, much like an adventure video game that you enjoy playing (gurus and enthusiasts alike should hearken back to the days of Super Mario 64, Zelda Ocarina of Time, and Banjo-Kazooie (and for the record, the heavy bias towards Nintendo is intentional) ), there are times when you really don't want to level up. Why move onto the next level when this level is perfectly enjoyable? Why should you push on ahead when, hey, running around throwing bombs at goombas or shooting Deku thingamabobs is clearly enough enjoyment for right now? Even if that final archway leading to the boss of the epic dungeon you spent forty or fifty hours slogging through (WATER TEMPLE OMG) is glowing, open, and practically begging you to finish up, should you really go through? Sure, it's a culmination of all of your cumulative efforts; a gratification to see all you've done paid off but at the same time, there's always that wistful sadness.
I wonder sometimes whether as the Hero of Time steps through to Ganon with his shiny new Longshot or Mario to Bowser with a cape and some spare 'shrooms, if they feel at all a sense of 'this is the end.' And if they end up regretting not letting it last longer in the first place and enjoying the level, no matter how trying, annoying, frustrating, downright impossible or contorted or poorly designed it is.
As children, we spend much of our time racing through childhood like some gamer on a power-levelling trip. Forget 'having fun,' or 'relaxing;' children can't afford to in a world that has grown competitive beyond measure and youngsters spend days prepping for their MCAT at the age of eight with parents watching like hawks to insure they are properly 'developed.' When the world's youngest PhD is somewhere around 18 years old (barely legal to smoke and vote, much less attain a 5+ year degree in a competitive program) and the media glorifies prodigal talent from Shirley Temple to 10-year-old Lindsay Lohan to Taylor Swift, it seems like a waste for children to do things like lie on a grassy lawn and stare at the clouds, or play cook with mud and rocks. No, no, clearly children should be like adults 'pon birth; work hard, learn everything, and make six figures by the time they're twenty.
Acceleration is the name of the game and it doesn't get better when you get older. College courses used to be taught, well, in college; now, AP exams are standard for top ranking schools. Students do scientific research at the tender age of 16, present at conferences in front of distinguished faculty and advisors by 18, publish papers before they're legally allowed to drink on various aspects of science and generally, attain PhDs before they even hit the age of 30 (sometimes, MD/PhD for the super bright ones). The world is now one, gigantic fast track to the final boss door and the only promise is that past that, is this mythical thing called 'Happiness' that one will attain and everything will be ok again. The ending, the fulfillment, the boss down and peace in the realm of Hyrule ...
And then you're standing outside your job with your resume, your giant list of accomplishments, your hurdles and battles behind you and peace has returned to the kingdom and there's this sudden 'now what' feeling gripping your heart. What do you do now?
Perhaps you should have savored that epic dungeon, those classes you took, the brief specks of time you spent at coffee shops, the sun during the days that it was sunny rather than the fastest path through, the time you spent at books in your room late at night with blinds drawn. Maybe then you wouldn't have this huge hole in your heart that, despite the long list of achievements, merits, and amazing things you have done, none of it really feels real. So you go off again on a new epic quest; a new career, a new job, something to get back into hacking through demons to usurp a king, or save the world from some catastrophe and ...
This time, take it easy. Things will happen at their own pace. Take some time between your rush to cram biology and stats into your head and look at the sun; savor the feel of understanding, relish each word that you write. Because when it ends, it ends and you don't want to look around thinking 'oh, what do I do now?'
You'd rather look around and think 'That was amazing.' And that contentment is your promised reward at the end of it all.
Today is bright and sunny, but I'm stuck inside (ironically) doing work. However, you can bet that I'll try and savor it as much as I can- even if it means I miss a few deadlines in the process.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Workin' on the Railroad
No, I haven't been. Just figured I'd title it something cute. Or at least, as cute as my sleepy brain could come up with at 6 in the morning.
I'm not a morning person. Never have been, never will be, never will profess to be. It just doesn't make too much sense for me to get up out of the comfort and security of my warm queen-sized bed while being wrapped with blankets to face a world that isn't even yet illuminated by sunlight. If the sun's too lazy to show its head at 6 in the morning which, for more than half of the year is seriously the case, than I should be allowed to keep my eyes shut for the same amount of time. Tis only fair and righteous for us little people, and not at all a form of selfish justification that I can use to make sleeping a legitimate way to spend away an entire morning.
Of course, this entire post isn't so much to lament at me waking up in the morning as a form of procrastination so I can avoid going to work.
Work is, actually, interesting. I work in a high school doing rather petty things like 'helping students' and 'running errands,' but my particular assignment has given me the chance to see the world in a way that I wasn't afforded to when I was younger. Yes, I went to high school, but the high school I went to was radically different compared to the high school I'm working in and as opposed to being grouped with a bunch of similar Asian overachievers (though I was never one of them), I find myself teaching those who are less fortunate in both resource and in motivation. Things that I would have jumped at to learn and even things that I just learned to learn them seem to hold no grip on these youngsters; calculus? Nah. Science? Forget it. English? Eww, I hate Shakespeare (I did too). Kids in these schools seem to make it a priority to do as little work as possible in order to achieve a passing grade. I can certainly unerstand this from an 'efficiency' (har har) short term point of view as I do it too (more often than otherwise with disastrous effects), but my bottom minimum is closer to a B/B+ than C-.
Perhaps it's the rough schedule that discourages these kids from learning things that are fascinating; in fact, this brings up an interesting point. As youngsters, we learn that science, math, and 'rthmetic are mystical things that are taught through magical school buses and crazy science teachers like Bill Nye and Beakman; we learn that geography is important if you're a dastardly thief wanting to make the world her oyster (and never getting caught!), and we learn that if you really want to learn how the world works, your mum and dad will give you a lollipop to suck on as you walk through halls filled with the bones of dead animals with esoteric names like Stegosaurus and Pervatosaurus leerai. Then you enter school and realize that learning doesn't compose of such magical things, but of textbooks and quizzes and teachers so angry at you for doing poorly that it's best to just not care. Whatever bit of magic you found inside that special subject is lost; now, it's just an old lady with a ruler berating you because you had to slog through mountains and mountains of work that you don't seem to find relevant.
Truthfully, I understad this viewpoint all to well and it really doesn't get better in college, lest you can stomach the doctrine of it all without puking over your shoes. Maybe if learning and education was more fun and awesome, more of us would be into doing so than there are now. A critical look at education not simply as it being a requirement in the world (that honestly goes without saying these days) but as a way to enrich a person's life; a positive 'I'd love to learn' vs a negative 'I have to learn,' is perhaps needed. Conclusion?
We clearly need more psych majors in education.
Or perhaps these kids just need more sleep, like me.
Today looks to be brighter, but I'm at home in the dark. Hence, I am lazy.
Cheers.
I'm not a morning person. Never have been, never will be, never will profess to be. It just doesn't make too much sense for me to get up out of the comfort and security of my warm queen-sized bed while being wrapped with blankets to face a world that isn't even yet illuminated by sunlight. If the sun's too lazy to show its head at 6 in the morning which, for more than half of the year is seriously the case, than I should be allowed to keep my eyes shut for the same amount of time. Tis only fair and righteous for us little people, and not at all a form of selfish justification that I can use to make sleeping a legitimate way to spend away an entire morning.
Of course, this entire post isn't so much to lament at me waking up in the morning as a form of procrastination so I can avoid going to work.
Work is, actually, interesting. I work in a high school doing rather petty things like 'helping students' and 'running errands,' but my particular assignment has given me the chance to see the world in a way that I wasn't afforded to when I was younger. Yes, I went to high school, but the high school I went to was radically different compared to the high school I'm working in and as opposed to being grouped with a bunch of similar Asian overachievers (though I was never one of them), I find myself teaching those who are less fortunate in both resource and in motivation. Things that I would have jumped at to learn and even things that I just learned to learn them seem to hold no grip on these youngsters; calculus? Nah. Science? Forget it. English? Eww, I hate Shakespeare (I did too). Kids in these schools seem to make it a priority to do as little work as possible in order to achieve a passing grade. I can certainly unerstand this from an 'efficiency' (har har) short term point of view as I do it too (more often than otherwise with disastrous effects), but my bottom minimum is closer to a B/B+ than C-.
Perhaps it's the rough schedule that discourages these kids from learning things that are fascinating; in fact, this brings up an interesting point. As youngsters, we learn that science, math, and 'rthmetic are mystical things that are taught through magical school buses and crazy science teachers like Bill Nye and Beakman; we learn that geography is important if you're a dastardly thief wanting to make the world her oyster (and never getting caught!), and we learn that if you really want to learn how the world works, your mum and dad will give you a lollipop to suck on as you walk through halls filled with the bones of dead animals with esoteric names like Stegosaurus and Pervatosaurus leerai. Then you enter school and realize that learning doesn't compose of such magical things, but of textbooks and quizzes and teachers so angry at you for doing poorly that it's best to just not care. Whatever bit of magic you found inside that special subject is lost; now, it's just an old lady with a ruler berating you because you had to slog through mountains and mountains of work that you don't seem to find relevant.
Truthfully, I understad this viewpoint all to well and it really doesn't get better in college, lest you can stomach the doctrine of it all without puking over your shoes. Maybe if learning and education was more fun and awesome, more of us would be into doing so than there are now. A critical look at education not simply as it being a requirement in the world (that honestly goes without saying these days) but as a way to enrich a person's life; a positive 'I'd love to learn' vs a negative 'I have to learn,' is perhaps needed. Conclusion?
We clearly need more psych majors in education.
Or perhaps these kids just need more sleep, like me.
Today looks to be brighter, but I'm at home in the dark. Hence, I am lazy.
Cheers.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Awkward Turtle
My catchphrase for the month is awkward turtle. I also think that awkward turtles are possibly the cutest animals in the world; at least, as cute as you can get from a hand gesture formed from two hands.
But why awkward turtle?
Introspection in the past few months has led me to believe that awkward turtles breed because interpersonal communication is so rife with problems, missteps, and mishaps, allowing these fascinating creatures chances to proliferate. This stems from our natural inclination to maintain what we know is safe combined with the inherent problems in communication; how can we accurately tell someone not just exactly how we feel to ourselves, but in a form that they would understand? The best we can probably do is some form of approximation; they might be able to 'partially' understand what we are thinking, what we are seeing but they would never be able to view the world directly from our eyes. Our individual worlds are limiting solely by our perception and awkward turtles are born from the junction between how we see things, and how someone else perceives things. Neither side is right nor wrong, but they are clearly right or wrong to one another.
Standardized language is the best way to solve this problem; rather, barring some telepathic technology that gets made within the next century or so, or we act like Tolkien's ents and spend years explaining every single thought (which, though not terribly efficient, might not be such a bad idea). However, there are enough problems with interpretation that we still have a terribly large population of awkward turtles; particularly in anything dealing with 'feelings,' and 'emotions,' irrational constructs that innately do not have any standard in order to be measured by.
Romance, particularly, is pretty icky. Expectations, wants, things that tie into our core behaviors and our core wants in the world are probably the most easily misunderstood; particularly when we're faced with something, someone, or some object that we personally desire. How can someone else understand particularly how badly we want something, unless they've had a similar 'comparable' experience (and even then, not really)? Tis a quandary that has led to many an awkward turtle's birth and sure to birth many more.
I'm a pretty big fan of the show 'Lie to Me' which, ironically, has a character that solves this problem through 'radical honesty,' where he states whatever he was thinking at the time directly and without premeditation. While not having the advantage of an 'easing' into other people's perceptions, it does at least prevent people from misunderstanding the reason behind premeditation (mainly because there is no premeditation). That alone perhaps contributes to some depth of clarity that whatever our current discourse on communication is, fails to maintain.
Who knows.
Today is cloudy and therefore, I'm lazy. Also, possibly late for class.
Cheers.
But why awkward turtle?
Introspection in the past few months has led me to believe that awkward turtles breed because interpersonal communication is so rife with problems, missteps, and mishaps, allowing these fascinating creatures chances to proliferate. This stems from our natural inclination to maintain what we know is safe combined with the inherent problems in communication; how can we accurately tell someone not just exactly how we feel to ourselves, but in a form that they would understand? The best we can probably do is some form of approximation; they might be able to 'partially' understand what we are thinking, what we are seeing but they would never be able to view the world directly from our eyes. Our individual worlds are limiting solely by our perception and awkward turtles are born from the junction between how we see things, and how someone else perceives things. Neither side is right nor wrong, but they are clearly right or wrong to one another.
Standardized language is the best way to solve this problem; rather, barring some telepathic technology that gets made within the next century or so, or we act like Tolkien's ents and spend years explaining every single thought (which, though not terribly efficient, might not be such a bad idea). However, there are enough problems with interpretation that we still have a terribly large population of awkward turtles; particularly in anything dealing with 'feelings,' and 'emotions,' irrational constructs that innately do not have any standard in order to be measured by.
Romance, particularly, is pretty icky. Expectations, wants, things that tie into our core behaviors and our core wants in the world are probably the most easily misunderstood; particularly when we're faced with something, someone, or some object that we personally desire. How can someone else understand particularly how badly we want something, unless they've had a similar 'comparable' experience (and even then, not really)? Tis a quandary that has led to many an awkward turtle's birth and sure to birth many more.
I'm a pretty big fan of the show 'Lie to Me' which, ironically, has a character that solves this problem through 'radical honesty,' where he states whatever he was thinking at the time directly and without premeditation. While not having the advantage of an 'easing' into other people's perceptions, it does at least prevent people from misunderstanding the reason behind premeditation (mainly because there is no premeditation). That alone perhaps contributes to some depth of clarity that whatever our current discourse on communication is, fails to maintain.
Who knows.
Today is cloudy and therefore, I'm lazy. Also, possibly late for class.
Cheers.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Ooh La La
Hey, it's a blog! How cute.
My cockatiel has recently decided to learn how to fly (which she does quite competently, despite her after-journey wheezing resembling that of an obese marathon runner), causing her to violently flap around the house in her somewhat endless explorations. As lovely as it is to see a little white-faced cockatiel zoom around with all the authority of Buzz Lightyear, I worry that she'll hit her little head against a window thinking the sun is an attainable treat of some kind, or into a wall for no reason whatsoever ...
She also seems to enjoy colliding into me whenever possible, particularly when I'm about to leave the house. I think she feels lonely without me sitting in front of her doing whatever work I have available and picking her up whenever she attempts to cause some sort of mischief. Though her soujourns into the bright blue yonder to my head were rare occurences in the past, they've bcome much more frequent. I wonder if she sees me as some big hairless bird of some kind that talks in a funny voice.
On that note, I wonder what she's thinking about in general. Do birdie-wirdies have birdie-wirdie thoughts? Does she dream of all the millet she can eat on plates of cuttlebone? Is there some big tree in the sky she can climb upon endlessly to her heart's content? Can she stop chewing on both my head phones and the erasers of my pencils?
*sigh*
In other news, it's raining. Rather, it did. Therefore, I am being lazy.
Tootles.
My cockatiel has recently decided to learn how to fly (which she does quite competently, despite her after-journey wheezing resembling that of an obese marathon runner), causing her to violently flap around the house in her somewhat endless explorations. As lovely as it is to see a little white-faced cockatiel zoom around with all the authority of Buzz Lightyear, I worry that she'll hit her little head against a window thinking the sun is an attainable treat of some kind, or into a wall for no reason whatsoever ...
She also seems to enjoy colliding into me whenever possible, particularly when I'm about to leave the house. I think she feels lonely without me sitting in front of her doing whatever work I have available and picking her up whenever she attempts to cause some sort of mischief. Though her soujourns into the bright blue yonder to my head were rare occurences in the past, they've bcome much more frequent. I wonder if she sees me as some big hairless bird of some kind that talks in a funny voice.
On that note, I wonder what she's thinking about in general. Do birdie-wirdies have birdie-wirdie thoughts? Does she dream of all the millet she can eat on plates of cuttlebone? Is there some big tree in the sky she can climb upon endlessly to her heart's content? Can she stop chewing on both my head phones and the erasers of my pencils?
*sigh*
In other news, it's raining. Rather, it did. Therefore, I am being lazy.
Tootles.
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