I love babies

When they’re not mine

Cuteness 

I HAVE REASON TO BE SAD, BUT THIS WAS A MOOD LIFTER UPPER.

=[

I think I need help.

So, I’ve been known to have an acerbic tongue.  The worst part is, I don’t realize how foul some of the things I say are until after I say them(usually after someone has pointed it out to me).  When it’s spoken, I think it’s a matter of not thinking.  But if it’s written, I KNOW thought goes into it before typing/writing it so I don’t know how to explain it then. 

It is a matter of miscommunication and I have never really concerned myself terribly with it because those who misunderstood me didn’t matter much to me. 

Today, I became quite concerned.  My professor of Religious Studies actually commented on something I said saying basically that I should communicate my message differently because it wasn’t a good way of getting what I wanted.  Even after he said it wasn’t a ‘big deal’ to him, I still felt horribly.  I felt like a dog with its tail between its legs.  I attempted to clarify myself in my response and hoped he understood I by no means meant to be offensive in my original e-mail. 

He, I think, at one point asked if I understood what I was communicating and I had to reply ‘no’.  I sat in front of my reply for 10 minutes with mixed emotions of feeling upset, chided, misunderstood, and…alienated.  I felt like I could cry over the whole situation(this is amusing because despite my being known to be acerbic/cantankerous, I often shed tears quite easily).  My lowest grade is in his class and I have a sinking feeling I will not manage an A in his course.  This is really crushing for me because it’s not because I am slacking.  I have attended every class(sans 1 because I fractured my toe), done all the readings, and the homework.  But this is not enough.   He is requiring something of me that I have not be required before and his refusal to aid in the transition process is very frustrating.  I feel like I am making a horrible impression on him.  And it’s possible he may not think I am as serious of a student as the others who are actual Religious Studies Majors. 

I don’t know why I am struggling so.  I find him likable.  But I think I’d prefer to have a conversation about Religious Studies with him than be taught by him.  I chose to minor in RS because of the profound impact DeChant had during my semester in his class.  I now find myself missing him greatly.  There was something about his lectures and his style that fueled and nurtured my learning process.  It was not the content, but his interpretation of the content that revitalized my interest in the academic study of religion.  Unfortunately, with this class,  that interest is more comparable to a dying ember. 

I will trudge through this class as best as possible and lower my expectations of myself(in just this class) so that I do not have an emotional breakdown over not getting my A once the semester ends.  I find myself wishing his goal was to help his students grasp the important points rather than to reward those that naturally do and just leave the rest of us behind. 

I feel like this is karma teaching me that I won’t always be a top tier performer and that I need to stop putting my foot in my mouth. 

I wish I could just study under DeChant for the rest of my collegiate career.  I hope I can still work with him in a seminar even though I may never get the appropriate GPA.   I am going to have to kick ass in his class this summer, which I am prepared to do, and will happen (crossed fingers) since I already know his teaching style favors my learning style(unlike my current professor’s)

On that note, I will look forward to my summer classes(which BETTER be offered despite budget cuts) and the cessation of the classes I am actually acing.  And I will look  forward to my weekend.  Which starts once I hit ‘Log off’. 

Okay, I need a cigarette.  Poka! (Informal ‘Bye’)

What is life without a bit of poetry?

“We liked people of any race who smoked incessantly, drank liberally, wore complexion and morality as loose garments, and made fun out of anyone who didn’t do likewise.” – Langston Hughes

Warning: Airhead Ahead

I’ve been smoking more.

 I think it’s nerves.  I went through 2 packs in about 10 days.  So, one pack in 5 days.  So, 4 cigarettes a day.  I’m slowly killing myself.

 HELP (Not now, later)

These Parliaments suck.  The store I stopped at didn’t have Camels.  Not even one pack.  Nada! Isn’t that ABSURD?

Since I’d never resort to Malboro(Ok, maybe in the past), I went for the Pfunks that I smoked casually onceuponatime.  They suck.  I should have picked up a BOLD back.  I have to sucksucksuck to still not get anything out of it.  And, the first pfunk I lit burned a hideous hole onto my driver’s side visor.  Ugh!  My baby’s blemished =[  Someone fix it!  I have thought about sticking a Batman bandaid over it to hide it.  Seems cute, right?  But once my dad sees it he’ll know and raise HELL. 

 *SOb*

Internal Peace

Walking from my Cultural Anthro class to the Marshall center I periodically noticed I had a soft smile on my face.  I couldn’t help but smile on my walk because today we received our grades on our first exam of the semester. 

There were 40 multiple choice questions, 4 short answer essay questions with 5 topics to choose from, and 3 extra credit questions. 

I got 37 out of the 40 MC questions.  The essay questions were worth a total of 40 points (10 each).  I answered all 5 in fear of screwing one (or more) up and also just in case the grader had it in his/her heart to give me bonus points for answering more than what was required.  Unfortunately, I got no bonus points for it, but it turns out I didn’t need to.  I got 40 out of 40 on the first four essay questions.

I got 1 out of 3 bonus questions right.  I wanted to kick myself for not remembering what country Dr. Zarger did her research work in after her mentioning it at least once a week since the semester started. 

There was also a curve.  I am not sure why…the class average was already a B.  But guess who set the curve?

DUH

Hahhaaaaa, wheeee!  So, this is what I needed.  Dr. Zarger hit REFRESH on my academic spirits and I am once again in gear for kicking scholastic ass.  Hearing I got the highest grade in the class on this exam reminds me I am still the person who managed the highest score in Professor DeChant’s World Religions class of 200+ students last year.  I am a top tier scholar.  Want to argue that?  Be my guest, wenches!  Bwahaha

Jen’s a happy lass.

 To be continued…

*MWAH* 

I need a new goal

Any suggestions?

I still have my academic goals, but their lustre seems slightly faded with the cessation of last semester. They’re still just as important as before, but I think they have sunk below the surface of things so they may be a constant I am striving for in life, but not aware of at all times, like previously.

My flatmate, Max, trained for nearly a year and ran a 15K marathon in Tampa last Saturday. I imagine how wonderful it must have felt for him to finally have reached his goal. It made me want to run with him, though I doubt I could have made it one mile in my current state. I’m no longer as health conscious as I once was and it’s wearing on me. I am constantly tired and feel as if my energy is always spent. Though on what? I mostly sit all day. My diet is even worse, though slightly better than last semester. I have managed to cook a lot more as of late than just heating frozen foods (vomit). The drinking, well… The drinking is less beer and vodka, but more wine. The dye is horrible, but doesn’t give me headaches. I managed 2 bottles of wine in 3 days? That’s better than usual for me, I guess. I quite honestly don’t want to quit imbibing alcoholic beverages; I feel it links me to a certain subgroup I desire to be a part of. I just wish I were more productive whilst in the alcoholic delirium, instead of in constant want of communication.

I want to do some sort of volunteering work. I inquired last week with a group that works with the UN, but was turned off at the thought of having to pay so much for airfare to go to Africa just to volunteer in schools and hospitals. Does that make me a bad person? Someone either persuade me to believe it’s okay to pay a shitload of money out-of-pocket to go to some barely civilized place in AFRICA to work for free or tell me how to get my ass there for free. I’m willing to fly with livestock or sail with Pirate poseurs. I prefer the latter, though. Adventure+eye patch, please! Oh, and a liter of Rum, k-thanx-bye.

I’m parched.

Why aren’t you listening to Geri X?

When I die

When i die
bury me with the white flowers
underneath the root lines
in the field.
with the smell, with the smell
of a bonfire
burning wood a top this
cold dark earth.

in the sun, in the sun
we will rise
in the sun , in the sun
we will shine we will shine.

when i die
bury me with my arms out
stretching wide across
the empty dirt.
with the weight,with the weight
of a feather
bury me with the weather
of southern, peaceful lust.

in the sun, in the sun
we will rise
in the sun, in the sun
we will shine we will shine.

when i die
bury me somewhere near
just so i can hear
your prayers, dear.
with the heart, with the heart
of a lover
weeping simple disclosures
of unfair fairwells.

in the sun in the sun
we will rise
in the sun, in the sun
we will shine we will shine.

© 2005 – 2006 Geri X.

What a riot

“I like your show. I like how you call homosexuality an abomination. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I had you here. I’m interested in selling my youngest daughter into slavery as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. She’s a Georgetown sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, always cleared the table when it was her turn. What would a good price for her be? While thinking about that, can I ask another? My Chief of Staff, Leo McGary, insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself or is it OK to call the police? Here’s one that’s really important, because we’ve got a lot of sports fans in this town: Touching the skin of a dead pig makes one unclean, Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point? Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother John for planting different crops side by side? Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads? Think about those questions, would you. One last thing: While you may be mistaking this for the monthly meeting of the ignorant tight-ass club, in this building, when the president stands, nobody sits.”
—President Bartlet

We need a voice

Could it be Saul Williams’?

To Whom It May Concern:

I’m used to sharing my opinion, but sometimes when it comes to politics, especially in regards to voting, I’m hesitant. This is primarily because my goal has always been to inspire people to think for themselves rather than simply inspire them to think like me. Yet, at the same time I realize the power of example and do my best to be my best whether the spotlight shines or not. I would not plant my faith in any government if I believed that history was entitled to govern the future. What has been was and went. At present, I am slave no more, and my freedom to speak my mind and share it with you is, in itself, an inspiration and a testimony of the beauty of our times. Yet in these times when the creative labor disputes in the film industry, the transformation and disbandment of the music industry, the collapse of our misappropriated economy (while oil profiteers celebrate the biggest year of profit in US corporate history), the ongoing war, the expansion of environmental consciousness, the resurgence of racial hate crimes, and the penalties exacted upon sportsmen who practice brutality off the field, all convene under the heading of NOW, it is essential to draw connections between each spinning record, to note times’ signature, and acknowledge that our world could transform in a drum beat. We are in desperate need of a remix. As a musician and fan of many I have always noted the power of music and art, especially amongst the youth. Before complacency and jadedness take shape, we are alive with dreams and insight into what could become of the world if the old would simply die young and allow new harmony to exist beyond antiquated conceptions of race, nationality, and tradition. We are subject to the world we are born into, without choice nor reverence. The dogma instilled by our social study books and well-meaning parents do little to affirm the truths that we know possible. The future is truly in our hands, yet most feel empty handed and ill-equipped to be the change they wish to see, while others have already been taught to clasp their empty hands in prayer, nod their heads, and surrender their power to the unknown, the angry, the jealous. I do not trust the government, I have no faith in politics. Poetry is president. We are the root of change. Yet, I have even less faith in cynicism. When negative expectations rule our perspective we shift below the radar and become the resin stuck to the tires of the passing tank, whose driver is tired and feels unthanked. He fights for nothing more than rank. We are the root of blame. Cynicism is ammunition pressed against the temple of the imagination daring it to not be. It is an excuse of the unimaginative, a tool of the tool, a weapon of the dreamless and sleep-deprived, it is far, so far, from music. What we need is a song, a melody to inspire the wind to change direction, a hybrid of genre and innovation, something worth the dance. The tar spangled banner that waves low, beneath the surface, is the dancefloor of a generation finding voice to sing. And though every generation has found ways to marry rhythm, none has sampled breakbeat science to distort how freedom rings. History is not King. And the present has offered some promising leaders…For the record, I’m voting for Barack Obama tomorrow. Saul Williams Songkeeper

I’m on Saul Williams’ myspace friend list and he posted that letter as a Bulletin. Anyone who knows me is aware I am often moved by Saul Williams’ works. His recent collaboration with Trent Reznor will hopefully broaden his fanbase. Although I know rhythm and beats are a major focus for Williams’, I hope that his listeners don’t lose themselves in the hard rhythms and heavy beats because his poetry is powerful. I’ve seen how easy it is for individuals to repeat catchy hooks completely unaware of the message it’s sending, whether it’s positive or negative. It’d be a tragedy to have listeners treat his lyrics just like any other beats and hooks they dance to/recite such as “Supersoak dat ho” or “I’m a Barbie girl in a Barbie World” glossing over the profound message it’s expressing with a vacuous look in their eyes.

I understand Williams’ letter is about politics, but that’s a subject I’d rather not touch. I registered as a voter last August when I got my driver’s license, but I never got my card in the mail and I haven’t done anything about it. I haven’t done my research and I am not about to vote for a candidate because of how popular he or she is. I also don’t trust myself currently because I am afraid I would vote for someone just because I want to see the first woman or black man sworn in as President. And as badly as I want to see some drastic change in history, having a woman or black man in office doesn’t guarantee real change.

The point of this entry is to put Saul Williams on further display. He is an eloquent writer and a moving speaker who uses his words and rhythms to his benefit. He has a voice that can move the masses. I just hope the message follows suit.

I am so envious of the generation that had Martin Luther King. I desire a great cause to fight for. I want a leader to back. Who will be our next MLK? My vote’s for Saul Williams–no one else has impressed me as much.

(That last link was to Saul Williams’ myspace artist profile.  I recommend Black History Month–particularly 2 minutes into the piece)

And by the way, happy Black History Month