Testing, 1, 2, 3, tesing. Check check.
Just testing out the new “email to blog post” function and seeing how I like it.
Today is beautifully dismal and melancholy. I love it. I only wish I was by a window so I could soak in the overall grayness outside instead of lost in a maze of computers and unbalanced students cramming before finals week.
Song for this dark gray day: Limousine by Brand New
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKg2b8glcpA
When I think of life defining moments, I think of a single moment when I was only four years old. I remember three things about the setting: I was wearing gray San Francisco 49er sweatpants; I accompanying my parents on a camping trip with their scuba diving friends; we were eating abalone. I remember no other specifics, only that I either said something silly or did something ridiculous that provoked laughter from the adults around me, and in that moment I had a revelation. I realized fully, for the first time, that if I did something funny, I could make others laugh. It might sound a bit obvious, but for some reason I can specifically remember the exact moment this all clicked into place in my young and impressionable mind. I felt as if I had been given a rare power to affect others and the possibilities were endless. I’m quite sure I spent the rest of the evening making an utter fool out of myself, begging for attention and trying to summon more laughter until my mom scolded me for being obnoxious. But it was too late for me. That single moment set the stage for who I am today—a self-conscious girl obsessed with the reactions of everyone around me. I aim to amuse, to impress, to entertain, to affect anyone listening, and my words and actions are often calculated for those purposes. I try very hard, perhaps too hard, to be funny, sometimes at the expense of others, and often at my own expense. I analyze every reaction to my comments—did they laugh? Were they just being polite? Do they think I’m an idiot? Did I say the right thing? What can I say next to make them laugh? The questioning never stops. Who knew such a simple moment so long ago could have such consequences?
“We are each […] unwilling to speak unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room.”
- Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice
