Please turn off your highbeams
They are bright and hurt my eyes
When you don't turn of your high beams, they flash and make drivers blind
When you hit a bump, and you hear that thump, your highbeams are flashing my face
Please turn off your highbeams, make the world a better place
Monday, July 30, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
College
It is an odd experience to search for college.
Looking over dozens of summaries and famous names, I wonder at each if it will be the right fit. Somewhere out there exists a college that will help lead to a happy and fulfilled life. All these paths could be walked, but in the end only one will be. It would seem that choosing a college is one of the biggest decisions a person can make in our society. Vast amounts of time and money are commited and the experiences gained at college are often said to define lives. There are thousands of choices some good, some great, some neither,
Will I pick the right one?
Looking over dozens of summaries and famous names, I wonder at each if it will be the right fit. Somewhere out there exists a college that will help lead to a happy and fulfilled life. All these paths could be walked, but in the end only one will be. It would seem that choosing a college is one of the biggest decisions a person can make in our society. Vast amounts of time and money are commited and the experiences gained at college are often said to define lives. There are thousands of choices some good, some great, some neither,
Will I pick the right one?
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Red Shadow on My Forehead
Today I applied for an internship, and failed.
The job was perfect. Albeit unpaid, it had everything an aspiring young thinker could hope for. Situated in the Seattle Attorney's Office, it would be a service surrounded by professionalism and work. For someone never having had a job, this would be an ideal introduction to the working world.
I carefully crafted a long and thoughtful letter to the office recruiter. It outlined exactly how I felt and why I deserved an unpaid job. I checked it carefully. Then I checked it again. With slight reservation, I pressed the send button and held my breath.
And then I saw it... Glaring at me.
A big fat volenteering. Now this may not seem like much, but its context was this. Volenteering opportunities for highschool students.
As it turns out, volenteering is actually spelled, volunteering.
Goodbye internship.
The job was perfect. Albeit unpaid, it had everything an aspiring young thinker could hope for. Situated in the Seattle Attorney's Office, it would be a service surrounded by professionalism and work. For someone never having had a job, this would be an ideal introduction to the working world.
I carefully crafted a long and thoughtful letter to the office recruiter. It outlined exactly how I felt and why I deserved an unpaid job. I checked it carefully. Then I checked it again. With slight reservation, I pressed the send button and held my breath.
And then I saw it... Glaring at me.
A big fat volenteering. Now this may not seem like much, but its context was this. Volenteering opportunities for highschool students.
As it turns out, volenteering is actually spelled, volunteering.
Goodbye internship.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
A Smiling Stranger
Can money buy respect, or just company?
While in Vegas this weekend, I happened across an interesting phenomena. High rollers, or those who casinos feel may pose a significant opportunity for gain are offered personal hosts. These individuals are charged with the handling of all odds and ends for hi profile clientele, they purchase tickets, arrange transport, handle unexpected events and most of all act the part of a pleasent and gracious host.
Of the two I met, both were exemplary people, both pleasent and kind. Alone this would of course pose no concern. What made me wonder was this. If the hosts are paid employees, and if their job is to insure that guests spend their time having fun and spending more than just time, are their warm and fuzzy exteriors reality or just personas adopted to preform a job.
It would appear that there is really no way to tell. The fact that the truly kind and generous may take this outward appearance literally at face value is bothersome. While such hosts may and quite likely are in fact admirable human beings, the mere existence of that shadow of a doubt created by their paid nicehood brings a slight spoil to the broth.
Are they really good friends or are they simply putting on a show?
While in Vegas this weekend, I happened across an interesting phenomena. High rollers, or those who casinos feel may pose a significant opportunity for gain are offered personal hosts. These individuals are charged with the handling of all odds and ends for hi profile clientele, they purchase tickets, arrange transport, handle unexpected events and most of all act the part of a pleasent and gracious host.
Of the two I met, both were exemplary people, both pleasent and kind. Alone this would of course pose no concern. What made me wonder was this. If the hosts are paid employees, and if their job is to insure that guests spend their time having fun and spending more than just time, are their warm and fuzzy exteriors reality or just personas adopted to preform a job.
It would appear that there is really no way to tell. The fact that the truly kind and generous may take this outward appearance literally at face value is bothersome. While such hosts may and quite likely are in fact admirable human beings, the mere existence of that shadow of a doubt created by their paid nicehood brings a slight spoil to the broth.
Are they really good friends or are they simply putting on a show?
Thursday, July 5, 2007
A Pleasent Fog
Listening to an unlearned language always cheers me up.
In the strange sounds and masked droning there is a sense of mystery. The listener is forced to think and think hard over the content of the message, but in the end is left with really nothing. The slight feeling however, that the chaotic now may become ordain later, perks interest akin to Christmas Eve. The contents of the future are unknown, but their leaning and possibility are certain. Listening to foreign languages pushes the ignorant mind to master them, to try something new, to explore.
In mystery I see promise.
In the strange sounds and masked droning there is a sense of mystery. The listener is forced to think and think hard over the content of the message, but in the end is left with really nothing. The slight feeling however, that the chaotic now may become ordain later, perks interest akin to Christmas Eve. The contents of the future are unknown, but their leaning and possibility are certain. Listening to foreign languages pushes the ignorant mind to master them, to try something new, to explore.
In mystery I see promise.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Lobsters
Today I went to the beach to write.
Walking down the soft sinking path, I glanced at all the lobsters. Everywhere they lay about, absorbing rays of hard sunlight and growing all the more red by the minute. Swarms of them gathered around the six omni-important fire places, hermit crabbing their spots for the coming evening's fireworks, 12 hours in advance.
I sat on a nice little log in a field of hay and wrote with my dwarf sized palm pilot keyboard, hopefully someone will pay me for it. Occasionally a lobster walked by and glanced at me, apparently I looked too young to be rattling away on a fancy keyboard, and oh my, in the middle of summer!?
After three or four hours I became one of them, I will baste better next time.
Walking down the soft sinking path, I glanced at all the lobsters. Everywhere they lay about, absorbing rays of hard sunlight and growing all the more red by the minute. Swarms of them gathered around the six omni-important fire places, hermit crabbing their spots for the coming evening's fireworks, 12 hours in advance.
I sat on a nice little log in a field of hay and wrote with my dwarf sized palm pilot keyboard, hopefully someone will pay me for it. Occasionally a lobster walked by and glanced at me, apparently I looked too young to be rattling away on a fancy keyboard, and oh my, in the middle of summer!?
After three or four hours I became one of them, I will baste better next time.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Morning
I wake up, I smile.
It is morning and possibility is endless. There is a certain glow that associates itself with the openness of new beginnings, a promise to be filled by a day. This seems to stand in direct contrast to the oddly beguiling undertone which the whisper of fresh time carries, for with freedom and possibility comes the temptation to abuse it, to use freedom for nothing.
Today I resolve to accomplish more than nothing.
It is morning and possibility is endless. There is a certain glow that associates itself with the openness of new beginnings, a promise to be filled by a day. This seems to stand in direct contrast to the oddly beguiling undertone which the whisper of fresh time carries, for with freedom and possibility comes the temptation to abuse it, to use freedom for nothing.
Today I resolve to accomplish more than nothing.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Slow Monday
My eyes are bleary.
I've been sitting in a chair for five hours, my body says no. The sickly feeling of a day slipped by begins to set in, and as if to justify a wasted day I continue endlessly browsing the net. I look for entertainment, meaning, satisfaction. It is no where to be found. The stark contrast of the bright fuzzy lights and dark clear lines on the screen are beginning to cause vision to blur, maybe it is time to go outside.
The sky is clear and the air is clean. There is no youtube. Back to the cave.
I've been sitting in a chair for five hours, my body says no. The sickly feeling of a day slipped by begins to set in, and as if to justify a wasted day I continue endlessly browsing the net. I look for entertainment, meaning, satisfaction. It is no where to be found. The stark contrast of the bright fuzzy lights and dark clear lines on the screen are beginning to cause vision to blur, maybe it is time to go outside.
The sky is clear and the air is clean. There is no youtube. Back to the cave.
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