Reflections on past week (longish post)
Fun times in the world of Kiti. We finished summer school on Friday, and I was so tired at the end of it. Not only was I handling the equivalent of full-time work and full-time school, but the class was very thought-provoking, so my brain was busy all the time, which left me exhausted.
Tuesday night, I went to Naomi Geier’s 21st birthday party after class. The other guests were her friends from Torrey (many of whom live in the Reynolds’ houses), and I was familiar with most of them. We hung out and talked for a little while, and I had to leave after a half an hour. While I was there, a few girls went out to rent Emperor’s New Groove, but when they got back, I chose not to stay, because I needed to get home and sleep. While I was there, though, one person mentioned that she had heard or read somewhere that it was the one-year anniversary of the death of Ronald Reagan. I must admit that I really did not know whether that was true or not—I have no memory of even what month it was when Reagan died. Anyway, she griped that she had not heard any news reports or anything honoring him.
I remarked, “Why should there be? He’s just an old dead guy.”
She looked at me as though I had suddenly announced that I had highly contagious leprosy. She was utterly incredulous. “Are you serious?”
“Sure, why not? He’s dead. What would there be to say? He hasn’t done anything new in the last year.”
“Well, it would have been nice if there had been some tribute or something.”
“Why don’t you write one?”
“Oh, I don’t know enough to do that.”
And there you have it. Honey, if you’re not part of the desired solution, you’re part of the perceived problem. But I digress. Perhaps I just startled her with my terminology. Perhaps I should have said “formerly aged, currently deceased male person,” instead of “old dead guy.” Perhaps I should ask her about it. Perhaps not.
Wednesday night, I got my hair cut. For some people, this entails going to a salon, or even a barber shop. For me, I simply go to the bathroom, take scissors, and go to work. Yes, I cut my own hair, and then Jeff checks it for stragglers in the back, where I can’t see. I got rid of a lot of split ends and my hair should be fairly healthy at this point, but it looks a trifle awkward. I’m certainly no beautician. I think I’ll try and curl it on occasion, to keep it under control; when it grows an inch or so, it will look better.
Thursday night, I went home and spent quite some time talking to Jeff about my thoughts regarding The Abolition of Man. Argh. I still don’t know what I think of it, and how I feel. I am no relativist or subjectivist, but I really don’t care for the way that Lewis makes his argument or some of his general underlying assumptions. Is there really an objective standard for emotion(s) required in any situation, or toward any object or experience? Can/ought emotions be “educated”? I don’t necessarily think so. I truly struggle, because it seems as though I am out of step with everyone else. All the time. Even my parents think that Lewis is the great speaker of Christianity. I’m a small-minded Uberwensch (gratuitous Nietzsche reference). I must be. I just am not sure about objective emotion and objective beauty (Note: I have no problem with objective beauty of the Creator; just not sure about it being in creation, and no one has provided me with an argument that convinces. I’m not against the possibility of there being objective beauty; I’m just not convinced of it.). He listened nicely, and gave me some good feedback, and I think he’ll read Abolition of Mind again and we’ll discuss it more. I have nicknamed him Mr. Chesty, because (as you will recall) Lewis spends quite some time (the entire first chapter) discussing “Men without Chests” and the need to “educate the chest” with “proper emotions,” and Jeff has a very strong proclivity toward experiencing and understanding emotions.
Strange thought: Women are generally considered to be more emotional, and better able to properly handle emotion, than men. Could it be relevant that women’s chests are usually softer and more prominent than men’s? Yeek! Is this a proper application of biology? Economy recapitulates physiology/anatomy? I am now putting this train of thought out on rusty, rarely-used tracks somewhere in the Yukon.
Let's see. I think we need a spot of humor.
The great thing about working where I do is the potential for humor. Our dear friend B has been up to his usual antics. Being, as we are, in the technical field, we use a lot of flowcharts, specs, diagrams, etc. On Thursday, B had been going over some finer points of the GCA electronics with Cheryl, and chose to copy some of her specs that they were using as illustrations. He went and did so, and when he brought the original back to Cheryl, she discovered that her first page was now double-printed, with E. Nishikawa flight information on American Airlines. That day’s date was printed in the hyperlink at the bottom of the page. B declared vehemently that he did not know how that printing had gotten there. Eventually, he thought about it more, and stated that he thought he knew what had happened: he had first tried to copy the document by running it through the printer. Naturally, this approached proved unsuccessful, so he just went ahead and took it to the copier after all. Apparently, while it was in the printer, though, the first page had picked up a print job that had been sent to the printer. Murray has the same document in his office, so B thought it would be helpful for him to go copy over the first page properly and let Cheryl replace her ruined one. He went, made a copy, and brought it to Cheryl. Lo and behold—he had copied the wrong page! In his defense, we discovered that Cheryl’s bundle of specs was out of order in the folder; B had reproduced the first page of Murray’s spec, but it was not the same as the (ruined) first page of Cheryl’s spec. I told her that I would just go and make the correct copy. I made two: one for Cheryl, and one for B. End of story. Hysterical! But I guess you had to be there…
Saturday, Laurel and I went up to my parents' house and spent the day there. Mum was helping up to sew Laurel's Renaissance-style bridesmaid dress for Marcy Hatch's wedding. We got nearly all of it done, with three pairs of hands to pin and cut out the fabric. It was so much fun! Mom taught us a lot about sewing, and she also let us go through some old (1950s-1980s) knitting patterns that she had gotten from one of her friends-- Laurel and I are going to work on our knitting and make some of the lovely sweaters and coats that we saw. I know I'm always cold, so more sweaters and coats seems like a lovely idea anyway. At one point, we had to go downtown to the Fashion District in LA; I dropped Laurel and Mom off on the corner of 8th and Maple, and circled several blocks for half an hour, while they went into one of the shops to buy notions like a zipper, etc. While I was driving (scary drivers in downtown LA, I must say), a homeless man walked out into the street, tipped his cart over, and then fell down--right in front of me! Never a dull moment! Tim was spending the weekend with Mom and Dad, so we saw him, and then Mike came home mid-day, so we were able to see him, too. Mike ordered Thai food for dinner, and we watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, although Laurel and I had to leave in the middle to get back to my apartment to spend time with Jeff and Josh.
Right now, I'm enjoying the fact that I can relax, even though this next week will probably be crazy, since Rob and Candace's wedding is next Saturday and we'll be going up to Visalia Thursday or Friday (depending on how things work out).
Tuesday night, I went to Naomi Geier’s 21st birthday party after class. The other guests were her friends from Torrey (many of whom live in the Reynolds’ houses), and I was familiar with most of them. We hung out and talked for a little while, and I had to leave after a half an hour. While I was there, a few girls went out to rent Emperor’s New Groove, but when they got back, I chose not to stay, because I needed to get home and sleep. While I was there, though, one person mentioned that she had heard or read somewhere that it was the one-year anniversary of the death of Ronald Reagan. I must admit that I really did not know whether that was true or not—I have no memory of even what month it was when Reagan died. Anyway, she griped that she had not heard any news reports or anything honoring him.
I remarked, “Why should there be? He’s just an old dead guy.”
She looked at me as though I had suddenly announced that I had highly contagious leprosy. She was utterly incredulous. “Are you serious?”
“Sure, why not? He’s dead. What would there be to say? He hasn’t done anything new in the last year.”
“Well, it would have been nice if there had been some tribute or something.”
“Why don’t you write one?”
“Oh, I don’t know enough to do that.”
And there you have it. Honey, if you’re not part of the desired solution, you’re part of the perceived problem. But I digress. Perhaps I just startled her with my terminology. Perhaps I should have said “formerly aged, currently deceased male person,” instead of “old dead guy.” Perhaps I should ask her about it. Perhaps not.
Wednesday night, I got my hair cut. For some people, this entails going to a salon, or even a barber shop. For me, I simply go to the bathroom, take scissors, and go to work. Yes, I cut my own hair, and then Jeff checks it for stragglers in the back, where I can’t see. I got rid of a lot of split ends and my hair should be fairly healthy at this point, but it looks a trifle awkward. I’m certainly no beautician. I think I’ll try and curl it on occasion, to keep it under control; when it grows an inch or so, it will look better.
Thursday night, I went home and spent quite some time talking to Jeff about my thoughts regarding The Abolition of Man. Argh. I still don’t know what I think of it, and how I feel. I am no relativist or subjectivist, but I really don’t care for the way that Lewis makes his argument or some of his general underlying assumptions. Is there really an objective standard for emotion(s) required in any situation, or toward any object or experience? Can/ought emotions be “educated”? I don’t necessarily think so. I truly struggle, because it seems as though I am out of step with everyone else. All the time. Even my parents think that Lewis is the great speaker of Christianity. I’m a small-minded Uberwensch (gratuitous Nietzsche reference). I must be. I just am not sure about objective emotion and objective beauty (Note: I have no problem with objective beauty of the Creator; just not sure about it being in creation, and no one has provided me with an argument that convinces. I’m not against the possibility of there being objective beauty; I’m just not convinced of it.). He listened nicely, and gave me some good feedback, and I think he’ll read Abolition of Mind again and we’ll discuss it more. I have nicknamed him Mr. Chesty, because (as you will recall) Lewis spends quite some time (the entire first chapter) discussing “Men without Chests” and the need to “educate the chest” with “proper emotions,” and Jeff has a very strong proclivity toward experiencing and understanding emotions.
Strange thought: Women are generally considered to be more emotional, and better able to properly handle emotion, than men. Could it be relevant that women’s chests are usually softer and more prominent than men’s? Yeek! Is this a proper application of biology? Economy recapitulates physiology/anatomy? I am now putting this train of thought out on rusty, rarely-used tracks somewhere in the Yukon.
Let's see. I think we need a spot of humor.
The great thing about working where I do is the potential for humor. Our dear friend B has been up to his usual antics. Being, as we are, in the technical field, we use a lot of flowcharts, specs, diagrams, etc. On Thursday, B had been going over some finer points of the GCA electronics with Cheryl, and chose to copy some of her specs that they were using as illustrations. He went and did so, and when he brought the original back to Cheryl, she discovered that her first page was now double-printed, with E. Nishikawa flight information on American Airlines. That day’s date was printed in the hyperlink at the bottom of the page. B declared vehemently that he did not know how that printing had gotten there. Eventually, he thought about it more, and stated that he thought he knew what had happened: he had first tried to copy the document by running it through the printer. Naturally, this approached proved unsuccessful, so he just went ahead and took it to the copier after all. Apparently, while it was in the printer, though, the first page had picked up a print job that had been sent to the printer. Murray has the same document in his office, so B thought it would be helpful for him to go copy over the first page properly and let Cheryl replace her ruined one. He went, made a copy, and brought it to Cheryl. Lo and behold—he had copied the wrong page! In his defense, we discovered that Cheryl’s bundle of specs was out of order in the folder; B had reproduced the first page of Murray’s spec, but it was not the same as the (ruined) first page of Cheryl’s spec. I told her that I would just go and make the correct copy. I made two: one for Cheryl, and one for B. End of story. Hysterical! But I guess you had to be there…
Saturday, Laurel and I went up to my parents' house and spent the day there. Mum was helping up to sew Laurel's Renaissance-style bridesmaid dress for Marcy Hatch's wedding. We got nearly all of it done, with three pairs of hands to pin and cut out the fabric. It was so much fun! Mom taught us a lot about sewing, and she also let us go through some old (1950s-1980s) knitting patterns that she had gotten from one of her friends-- Laurel and I are going to work on our knitting and make some of the lovely sweaters and coats that we saw. I know I'm always cold, so more sweaters and coats seems like a lovely idea anyway. At one point, we had to go downtown to the Fashion District in LA; I dropped Laurel and Mom off on the corner of 8th and Maple, and circled several blocks for half an hour, while they went into one of the shops to buy notions like a zipper, etc. While I was driving (scary drivers in downtown LA, I must say), a homeless man walked out into the street, tipped his cart over, and then fell down--right in front of me! Never a dull moment! Tim was spending the weekend with Mom and Dad, so we saw him, and then Mike came home mid-day, so we were able to see him, too. Mike ordered Thai food for dinner, and we watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, although Laurel and I had to leave in the middle to get back to my apartment to spend time with Jeff and Josh.
Right now, I'm enjoying the fact that I can relax, even though this next week will probably be crazy, since Rob and Candace's wedding is next Saturday and we'll be going up to Visalia Thursday or Friday (depending on how things work out).
posted by Kiti at 2:30 PM
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