It's not a rare occasion for someone to mention weed or smoking in our class. Many laugh. I, often, feel lost. I have never smoked, nor will I ever, so I don't understand the references, I don't get the jokes. Although I caved to drinking before 21 (oh, man, was I cool for doing it too--so cool the popular people only ignored me, instead of teasing me), I've never succumbed to weed. I don't get it. I'm one-fourth afraid of it, and three-fourths disgusted with it.
The rule-follower in me doesn't understand the desire to try any drugs--because that part of me feels it's either (a) a useless escape, because your life remains the same when you come back, (b) a desperate attempt to fit into a group of people who are just as desperate to be liked, or (c) a lame attempt at trying to fill boredom. 99% of me thinks smoking weed is wrong, and not just because it's illegal. Alcohol is legal, and I think drinking to get wasted is wrong. It's mostly that, damn, don't you guys want to use your brains? And I'm not even referencing the "losing your brain cells" argument, but the "aren't you creative enough to find different ways to spend your time" argument.
Going home and smoking every day is as lame and boring as the nerd (*cough, me*) who went home and played Zoo Tycoon or studied every day. Planning on smoking every weekend is as monotonous as playing WOW every weekend. Use your brain for something else.
Perhaps what I am most upset by is the dependence drugs engenders--not as in addiction, although that scares me, yes--but dependence in terms of using it to solve problems, using it to have fun, using it to pass the time. There are better, greater, more wise ways to do all of those things, but you'll never find them if you spend all your time smoking. Smoking is not the answer to all of life's questions. The saddest part to me is that it's becoming the most common answer. And what should make our society great is the variety of answers. We are losing our variety.
When you're high, when you're drunk, you're ignoring something--whether it be homework, a relationship, life itself as a whole. Don't escape so much that you have nothing to come back to.
From your drug-free partner--Haskalicious.
27 September 2010
21 September 2010
I believe in running
I believe in the power of running. In the power of getting up at 4:30 a.m., even though you don't want to, to pound out 9 miles of pure sweat. I believe it builds character, dedication, because everyone should be forced to do something they don't want to in order to get positive results--it shows us that most things worth having do not come easy. I believe in wearing out a pair of running shoes every three months, of getting holes in the top and needing new insoles, because you scraped it thin. I believe this teaches us the power of objects, of how helpful and useful our "things" are--and how you should maximize every ounce of worth.
Running has dramatically changed my life. It brings me contentment, pleasure, and, even though it brings pain at times, it is worth it in the end. Running has made me a better person, fitter, healthier, more dedicated, more passionate. I would not be who I am today without it.
So I miss it this week. Having torn my oblique muscle is killing me, not just because it hurts to do everything (like, uh, breathe), but because I can't run. And I realize now how addicted I have become to running, how much my mood depends on it. I find myself gazing at students' sports bags longingly, because I miss packing my own gym bag. I notice people jogging on the street, and I want to stab them out of jealousy.
This rib better heal. And I believe that.
Running has dramatically changed my life. It brings me contentment, pleasure, and, even though it brings pain at times, it is worth it in the end. Running has made me a better person, fitter, healthier, more dedicated, more passionate. I would not be who I am today without it.
So I miss it this week. Having torn my oblique muscle is killing me, not just because it hurts to do everything (like, uh, breathe), but because I can't run. And I realize now how addicted I have become to running, how much my mood depends on it. I find myself gazing at students' sports bags longingly, because I miss packing my own gym bag. I notice people jogging on the street, and I want to stab them out of jealousy.
This rib better heal. And I believe that.
16 September 2010
Simple Gestures
I'm a sucker for simple gestures, I've realized. Holding open doors, allowing someone to use your book when (s)he doesn't have one, jumping up to get tissues for someone struggling through a reading (good job, Izzy & Jesse), makes me realize there is hope for the human race. It's not a chivalry thing, it's not a gender thing. It's a human thing. We should treat each other nicely, because we are all in this together.
Every year, I see or do something that makes me recognize more and more how much of an effect our actions have on other people. The things we do (and don't do) can really make or break someone's mood, their attitude, their perspective. It won't hurt you to listen to someone you never listened to before instead of choosing to talk through their reading; it won't hurt you to hold off on making the easy joke at someone's expense; it won't hurt you to hold the door open two seconds longer so that the person behind you can make it through.
We always complain about life being so unfair, but don't WE make it unfair? I mean, aren't we in charge? So, therefore, can't we make it fair? Can't we make it better? Can't we start by treating each other better, just a little bit better, just a little bit more human...to truly realize the meaning behind the words, "treat others the way you want to be treated." Well, look, no one wants to be treated like shit. So we better stop treating others that way. Or if we do, if we laugh at someone else's pain, if we gossip, if we judge, if we assume--well, y'all better expect it to come right back at ya. And don't you dare complain about it, because you earned it.
We don't have to go out and change the world by raising billions of dollars for cancer research, or by buying a whole new car to reduce the use of gas. We can just smile at someone. Start small. Start simple.
Every year, I see or do something that makes me recognize more and more how much of an effect our actions have on other people. The things we do (and don't do) can really make or break someone's mood, their attitude, their perspective. It won't hurt you to listen to someone you never listened to before instead of choosing to talk through their reading; it won't hurt you to hold off on making the easy joke at someone's expense; it won't hurt you to hold the door open two seconds longer so that the person behind you can make it through.
We always complain about life being so unfair, but don't WE make it unfair? I mean, aren't we in charge? So, therefore, can't we make it fair? Can't we make it better? Can't we start by treating each other better, just a little bit better, just a little bit more human...to truly realize the meaning behind the words, "treat others the way you want to be treated." Well, look, no one wants to be treated like shit. So we better stop treating others that way. Or if we do, if we laugh at someone else's pain, if we gossip, if we judge, if we assume--well, y'all better expect it to come right back at ya. And don't you dare complain about it, because you earned it.
We don't have to go out and change the world by raising billions of dollars for cancer research, or by buying a whole new car to reduce the use of gas. We can just smile at someone. Start small. Start simple.
07 September 2010
Too much trust?
Zach's comment on my "Disappointment" blog made me ponder...do I place too much faith in this class, trusting that we will act like civilized human beings? It's true--what we share in here could definitely be used against us, could come back to haunt us. But I believe in this class. I believe in our ability to listen to each other and, underneath everything, see that the person sharing those words wants the same thing that we all want--for someone to listen to us. Not the "us" that we show the world outside room 33, but the "us" that writing helps us actually reveal. I fully believe that writing allows you to lift weights off your shoulders; sharing your story helps others see that they are not alone. Both of these take great courage. This is not a class for wimps.
I know several people have already faced judgment, have already had their hearts torn at a bit by missteps made by classmates (sharing stories outside class, getting judgmental looks, etc.). But no one in this class is perfect, so should anyone have the right to judge? I've never taken drugs, but I know that I've made plenty of other mistakes--so if a person shares about regretting drug use, I can't sit back and think, "oh, what an idiot," because I've been there. Not in the exact same situation, but sitting on my own throne of mistakes. We've all sat on it, we've all been the king/queen of idiocy. Someone else's story may not match yours exactly, but we all travel the same plot line.
Perhaps that's what connects us. This idea that, even though we've made our share of mistakes, we can overcome them and rise to be something better. And I believe that we'll help each other do that through this class. I believe that we'll help each other become something better by listening. By changing our judgments into encouragement. By questioning if our first reaction to someone's piece is the right reaction. By never assuming and, instead, listening open-mindedly.
Yes, I do have a lot of trust in you guys, in us. But I have to. It is the only way this class, as it's designed to be, will flourish. Every day we walk the tightrope, every day could be the day someone gossips or judges, every day the class could tumble over the edge. But I'm right up there with you. Because that's the only place to be, as a teacher, as a writer, as a person. We're all in this together.
I know several people have already faced judgment, have already had their hearts torn at a bit by missteps made by classmates (sharing stories outside class, getting judgmental looks, etc.). But no one in this class is perfect, so should anyone have the right to judge? I've never taken drugs, but I know that I've made plenty of other mistakes--so if a person shares about regretting drug use, I can't sit back and think, "oh, what an idiot," because I've been there. Not in the exact same situation, but sitting on my own throne of mistakes. We've all sat on it, we've all been the king/queen of idiocy. Someone else's story may not match yours exactly, but we all travel the same plot line.
Perhaps that's what connects us. This idea that, even though we've made our share of mistakes, we can overcome them and rise to be something better. And I believe that we'll help each other do that through this class. I believe that we'll help each other become something better by listening. By changing our judgments into encouragement. By questioning if our first reaction to someone's piece is the right reaction. By never assuming and, instead, listening open-mindedly.
Yes, I do have a lot of trust in you guys, in us. But I have to. It is the only way this class, as it's designed to be, will flourish. Every day we walk the tightrope, every day could be the day someone gossips or judges, every day the class could tumble over the edge. But I'm right up there with you. Because that's the only place to be, as a teacher, as a writer, as a person. We're all in this together.
01 September 2010
Thanks, but I'm done with high school
I've been out of high school for 10 years. And my life has become infinitely, I mean INFINITELY better since my graduation. I don't know which genius said high school would be the best years of life, but whoever that person is obviously didn't suffer from a lack of self-awareness and esteem. I hated high school, only becoming comfortable with it senior year, when I finally became comfortable with who I really was.
Now, every time I see this one particular friend of mine, she finds a way to make me feel guilty about the life I lead. She says I go to bed too early. I grade too much. I'm too focused on school. I don't want to go dancing or partying or dress up and wear costumes (she and her friends most recently dressed up as the cast of Jersey Shore...just to go out to dinner. Picture eating next to Snooki at Chili's). She concludes that I am lame. She makes it seem like I'm missing out on a part of life, that I'm not living, that I'm already old and dead inside.
I felt this way in high school--when I was studying for tests, having slumber parties and eating milk n' cookies--I felt like I was missing out on the "real life" of partying and drinking and doing the stupid stuff everyone gossiped about the next day. So, I decided I would try that. And realized very quickly that I wasn't missing out on much. I learned that partying was just an attempt to try to have a life, instead of being content with the one you had already.
And now I'm done with high school. The time of doubting myself and who I am is over. This is who I am: I care about my job. I don't want to dress up and wear three bump-its and fake tanner in public and call it a good time. I go to bed early. I don't think I'm missing out on your stupid costume parties, and I certainly don't think there's anything more "real" about that kind of life.
Now, every time I see this one particular friend of mine, she finds a way to make me feel guilty about the life I lead. She says I go to bed too early. I grade too much. I'm too focused on school. I don't want to go dancing or partying or dress up and wear costumes (she and her friends most recently dressed up as the cast of Jersey Shore...just to go out to dinner. Picture eating next to Snooki at Chili's). She concludes that I am lame. She makes it seem like I'm missing out on a part of life, that I'm not living, that I'm already old and dead inside.
I felt this way in high school--when I was studying for tests, having slumber parties and eating milk n' cookies--I felt like I was missing out on the "real life" of partying and drinking and doing the stupid stuff everyone gossiped about the next day. So, I decided I would try that. And realized very quickly that I wasn't missing out on much. I learned that partying was just an attempt to try to have a life, instead of being content with the one you had already.
And now I'm done with high school. The time of doubting myself and who I am is over. This is who I am: I care about my job. I don't want to dress up and wear three bump-its and fake tanner in public and call it a good time. I go to bed early. I don't think I'm missing out on your stupid costume parties, and I certainly don't think there's anything more "real" about that kind of life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)