Okay, so even though I told myself my next post would be regarding J.K. Rowling's perspectives of courage in Harry Potter, especially Deathly Hallows, I have decided that topic is too literary to dive into at this stage of my winter break. Instead, I'm inspired to write about a movie I saw last night and became instantly obsessed with, (500) Days of Summer. Word has gotten out about this indie film released in August, which proclaims itself to be the antithesis of a love story. The narrator's opening spiel warns viewers of this fact, and yet one can't help but root for the pair to remain together. But what is it in us that prevents us from watching a movie without the expectation of a romantic and happy ending? Why are we disappointed in the end when things don't work out perfectly, aligning ourselves with the rejected lover? Is it human nature to take sides, unable to remain wholly unbiased and detached when watching a movie?
I believe that it is the job of a good film to draw the viewer in and allow a person to immerse him/herself in the world of the characters. That being said, (500) Days was exceptional in this respect, leaving my two friends yelling at the television when Summer initiated the break up, calling her a cold bitch for being unable to feel for Tom what he felt for her. I tried to hate Summer, really I did, but found I could not. This was not because I was able to remember it was only a movie and that the situation wasn't actually happening. It was completely the opposite. I was so invested in the film that I found myself debating the complexities of Summer's nature, admiring Zooey Deschanel's expertise in exemplifing her twisted perspectives on love.
I am thoroughly convinced that Summer is actually not a bitch. Though she does some arguably cruel things to the very sweet and unfailingly devoted Tom, I would say that she is one of those people who doesn't realize what they are doing to another person. This doesn't totally excuse her actions, but I think it sheds new light on her character. The problem with Summer, I think, is that she is a cynic. And although many movie-goers are cynics themselves, no one likes to see their own doubt portrayed on the silver screen. In movies, everything should be light and happy and wonderful, but especially recently, movies aim to portray reality. And reality isn't always wonderful.
I wouldn't say that I am a fan of Summer's anti-love perspective, however my emotional attachment to her opinions lie in the fact that, on a smaller scale, I share them. While she begins the movie unable to say that true love exists, I wait for my own experience with it and, on some level, doubt its existence also. But no one wants their deepest doubts revealed by a girl who will be unable to find love with a seemingly perfect boy. Because perhaps we are all scared that we will have the same problem. Perhaps we don't want to face the reality that some people, no matter how perfect they seem to be for each other, can't remain together.
Though this is a startling realization, I don't think it's meant to dishearten. There is an underlying sense of hope in the fact that two people can have something almost perfect, lose it, and still be able to find happiness in the end. I'll hold back from going into a rant on fate except to say that (500) Days offers the idea of a larger plan for disheartened lovers and independent cynics. After all, there will always be a season after summer.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
"Home is not where you live, but where they understand you."
Because I'm feeling especially deep/nostalgic tonight upon returning home for Christmas vacation, I will attempt to tackle an equally deep topic... the definition of home. There is no one meaning of the term; its ambiguity allows it to be applied to various locations, regardless of whether one actually lived there. Throughout my relatively short life, I have lived in multiple places which I consider to be my home. And each time I left, I was filled with a great longing for my former one. And each time I felt as though I could never feel wholly immersed and complete again. And yet, each time, I always did.
Even beyond the houses and towns I have occupied, I have come to regard many friends' houses as my own. But what is it that makes a house, dorm, or any other place a home? Many scholars and extensively-quoted individuals emphasize the people which accompany you in a place, for as William James once said, "Wherever you are, it is your friends who make your world."
After discussing this topic at length in two English classes dedicated to space and place, I still have yet to come to a clear conclusion on the question of what makes a place a home. Yes, I believe it is mainly the people, for how else could you possibly grow attached to a tiny, old dorm room to a point where you are longing to return to it years later if it weren't for the amazing person/people you shared it with? How else do you explain walking into a friend's house that you haven't been to in years and feeling like nothing has changed? And yet, there must be something else which contributes to that feeling of belonging which home conjures.
One of my wisest professors told the freshman English majors in our first department meeting that Cushing-Martin (the building which houses everything English) was our home. And though I don't remember anything else that was told to me during that meeting, that comment is one that will stay with me forever. It is truly impossible to describe the feeling of warmth, ease, and comfort that gave me in the beginning of my college life. I knew then that I had made the right decision and, regardless of whatever traumatic freshman situation I got myself into, realized that, even in the first week, I was home.
So as I sit in my living room wondering why I miss that cramped dorm, I'm noticing that even though this will always be my home for the summer and one month of winter, my sense of belonging has shifted. It's not that I'm displaced or replaced here, but there has just been another home brought into my life. And so rather than being nostalgic for the wholeness of home that this place used to be, I should be glad that I can experience such a feeling of wholeness elsewhere.
Even beyond the houses and towns I have occupied, I have come to regard many friends' houses as my own. But what is it that makes a house, dorm, or any other place a home? Many scholars and extensively-quoted individuals emphasize the people which accompany you in a place, for as William James once said, "Wherever you are, it is your friends who make your world."
After discussing this topic at length in two English classes dedicated to space and place, I still have yet to come to a clear conclusion on the question of what makes a place a home. Yes, I believe it is mainly the people, for how else could you possibly grow attached to a tiny, old dorm room to a point where you are longing to return to it years later if it weren't for the amazing person/people you shared it with? How else do you explain walking into a friend's house that you haven't been to in years and feeling like nothing has changed? And yet, there must be something else which contributes to that feeling of belonging which home conjures.
One of my wisest professors told the freshman English majors in our first department meeting that Cushing-Martin (the building which houses everything English) was our home. And though I don't remember anything else that was told to me during that meeting, that comment is one that will stay with me forever. It is truly impossible to describe the feeling of warmth, ease, and comfort that gave me in the beginning of my college life. I knew then that I had made the right decision and, regardless of whatever traumatic freshman situation I got myself into, realized that, even in the first week, I was home.
So as I sit in my living room wondering why I miss that cramped dorm, I'm noticing that even though this will always be my home for the summer and one month of winter, my sense of belonging has shifted. It's not that I'm displaced or replaced here, but there has just been another home brought into my life. And so rather than being nostalgic for the wholeness of home that this place used to be, I should be glad that I can experience such a feeling of wholeness elsewhere.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
"If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, I'll never grow up!"
My absolutely favorite thing of today: Finding Neverland. It could quite possibly be one of my favorite movies ever. And it is definitely one of my favorite books. I began watching the movie earlier today and was once again amazed at the imaginative and whimsical quality of it. It certainly got me thinking about our lives, and the lack of creativity and imagination present in them. Why is it that growing up always seems to involve losing our child-like imaginations? Why must "growing up" mean entering into boring and monotonous lives? Creativity must be pooled into acceptable tracks, but even those careers have strict guidelines.
I have no answer for these questions: they're mere general musings. I suppose I am a victim of the modern, unimaginative, ordinary life. My childhood was full of fanciful plays, extravagant dress-ups, and make believe hideouts planted deep into the woods behind my cottage. But alas, none of those things exist in my life anymore. Instead I live in the semi-reality world of college. I know I have to work, I know I can't necessarily change my life will change (even if I really, truly believe), and I know that fairies and pixie dust don't really exist, and somehow, that makes life a great deal less exciting. So why don't we choose to live our lives imaginatively? People are not capable. They think growing up means maturing in all the wrong ways (when in fact people are usually immature in all the wrong ways). The moral of the story is: I hate people. Not all people...just most.
At least I have outlets for my creative angst. I can watch Finding Neverland and pretend for two hours that I live in J.M. Barrie's world, a world in which I am allowed to believe in Peter Pan and Captain Hook and Tiger Lily. I think Walt Disney (a man I draw much of my wisdom from) got it right: "Why do we have to grow up? I know more adults who have the children's approach to life. They're people who don't give a hang what the Joneses do. You see them at Disneyland every time you go there. They are not afraid to be delighted with simple pleasures, and they have a degree of contentment with what life has brought--sometimes it isn't much, either". He's right...if we aren't given much (and most of us aren't) can't we find happiness in a "childish" (though I hate to use that word as it has connotations I don't wish to endorse) approach to life? Can we imagine the rest of it, just as we'd like to see it? Our own little Neverland? I'd like to think so.
My dislikes of the week: Needless immaturity, working from 9 to 1 in the morning, packing (though I have yet to start), not knowing the answers to the Wheel of Fortune puzzles, people who stand in line staring at the person ahead of them when there's another register open, cafeteria food, judgmental people, putting my clothes away, and Literary History being over. Peace out.
I have no answer for these questions: they're mere general musings. I suppose I am a victim of the modern, unimaginative, ordinary life. My childhood was full of fanciful plays, extravagant dress-ups, and make believe hideouts planted deep into the woods behind my cottage. But alas, none of those things exist in my life anymore. Instead I live in the semi-reality world of college. I know I have to work, I know I can't necessarily change my life will change (even if I really, truly believe), and I know that fairies and pixie dust don't really exist, and somehow, that makes life a great deal less exciting. So why don't we choose to live our lives imaginatively? People are not capable. They think growing up means maturing in all the wrong ways (when in fact people are usually immature in all the wrong ways). The moral of the story is: I hate people. Not all people...just most.
At least I have outlets for my creative angst. I can watch Finding Neverland and pretend for two hours that I live in J.M. Barrie's world, a world in which I am allowed to believe in Peter Pan and Captain Hook and Tiger Lily. I think Walt Disney (a man I draw much of my wisdom from) got it right: "Why do we have to grow up? I know more adults who have the children's approach to life. They're people who don't give a hang what the Joneses do. You see them at Disneyland every time you go there. They are not afraid to be delighted with simple pleasures, and they have a degree of contentment with what life has brought--sometimes it isn't much, either". He's right...if we aren't given much (and most of us aren't) can't we find happiness in a "childish" (though I hate to use that word as it has connotations I don't wish to endorse) approach to life? Can we imagine the rest of it, just as we'd like to see it? Our own little Neverland? I'd like to think so.
My dislikes of the week: Needless immaturity, working from 9 to 1 in the morning, packing (though I have yet to start), not knowing the answers to the Wheel of Fortune puzzles, people who stand in line staring at the person ahead of them when there's another register open, cafeteria food, judgmental people, putting my clothes away, and Literary History being over. Peace out.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Day Two
With the always exciting week of finals in full swing, I have been dedicating my time not to studying, but to pondering various academic phenomena. The most recent and puzzling aspects will be documented for further examination.
1) Social Studying
Though I am known to procrastinate as much as the next guy, it boggles my mind how some people can sit in the most distracting and traffic-ridden places and still expect to actually get something accomplished. I wonder if it is a serious endeavor... Is it possible for a person to pack up their laptop, notebooks, books, calculator, et cetera and high-tail it to the entryway in the Commons (or, better yet, the cafeteria itself) and think they will come back hours later with an essay written, math problems completed, or science concepts memorized? I think not. Yes, some people claim they study better with some background music, or the television on, but I seriously doubt that sitting amongst 500 other students creates an effective learning environment.
This afternoon I had an awkward time situation where it was pointless to return to my dorm after lunch because I would have to be back in the same vicinity in a half hour to go to the parking lot and jet off to a doctor appointment. I decided I would do like the cool kids and sit in the entryway in front of the mailboxes for awhile. In between memorizing the birth and death dates of every Middle English poet who ever wrote something significant, I heard about one girl who didn't study for her exam that morning (and sounded like she wasn't too concerned), one guy who got drunk last night, talked to a friend, and saw various disappointed students leave their p.o. boxes emptyhanded and go upstairs to get lunch. And yet I couldn't tell you when Henry Howard Earl of Surrey was born.
My personal theory is that people go about this social studying thing not to actually learn, but to show off their obscene workloads. For example, if a girl has a huge statistics test, what better way to complain to the world than by taking up an entire round table in the caf, spreading out books, papers, calculator, and laptop displaying a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet graph? Not only is it a great conversation starter - "oh wow, what are you up to?" - but you get the intimidation/admiration factors. In the former, a person is so utterly dumbfounded by what they see they decide you are a God of your given subject for a) being able to study in a public place and b) doing all that work while still eating a peanut butter bar. The latter is pretty self-explanatory... everyone will be like, jeez, that girl has harder work, and therefore, harder classes than me. She must be smart.
... And don't even get me started on the three computers in the very poorly lit corner of The Hill (restaurant-style alternative caf).
2) Library Computers versus Laptops in the Library
I have both used the desktop computers in the library and brought my own laptop there and yet I cannot decide which is better. There seem to be pros and cons to both, and I understand those, but I still can't decide what makes one person more likely to bring a computer than to simply use what is available to them. My lazy instinct is to not lug my laptop all the way through campus only to find out the wireless setting on my fabulous school-sponsored laptop is faulty and won't accept me. Also, I feel like using a desktop almost forces you to work faster. A laptop has a sort of luxorious feel - like oh, I can go sit in that uber comfortable chair and potentially fall asleep with it on a mini-table in front of me while pretending to do something. This is nearly impossible to do at a desktop, mainly because the screen is so bright it seems to cast a spotlight on your entire cubby. Also, I find the risk of potentially losing your work because you got it out of your email and haven't renamed the document to be especially motivational. Or, better yet, who isn't inspired by the awkward, bulging-backpack-wearing person hovering and pacing back and forth waiting to steal your computer? You just don't get that with a laptop.
Anyways, there are less phenomena than I anticipated on this post, but I babbled enough to make up for it. This is the other Ashley signing off... time to figure out when John Donne kicked the bucket.
1) Social Studying
Though I am known to procrastinate as much as the next guy, it boggles my mind how some people can sit in the most distracting and traffic-ridden places and still expect to actually get something accomplished. I wonder if it is a serious endeavor... Is it possible for a person to pack up their laptop, notebooks, books, calculator, et cetera and high-tail it to the entryway in the Commons (or, better yet, the cafeteria itself) and think they will come back hours later with an essay written, math problems completed, or science concepts memorized? I think not. Yes, some people claim they study better with some background music, or the television on, but I seriously doubt that sitting amongst 500 other students creates an effective learning environment.
This afternoon I had an awkward time situation where it was pointless to return to my dorm after lunch because I would have to be back in the same vicinity in a half hour to go to the parking lot and jet off to a doctor appointment. I decided I would do like the cool kids and sit in the entryway in front of the mailboxes for awhile. In between memorizing the birth and death dates of every Middle English poet who ever wrote something significant, I heard about one girl who didn't study for her exam that morning (and sounded like she wasn't too concerned), one guy who got drunk last night, talked to a friend, and saw various disappointed students leave their p.o. boxes emptyhanded and go upstairs to get lunch. And yet I couldn't tell you when Henry Howard Earl of Surrey was born.
My personal theory is that people go about this social studying thing not to actually learn, but to show off their obscene workloads. For example, if a girl has a huge statistics test, what better way to complain to the world than by taking up an entire round table in the caf, spreading out books, papers, calculator, and laptop displaying a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet graph? Not only is it a great conversation starter - "oh wow, what are you up to?" - but you get the intimidation/admiration factors. In the former, a person is so utterly dumbfounded by what they see they decide you are a God of your given subject for a) being able to study in a public place and b) doing all that work while still eating a peanut butter bar. The latter is pretty self-explanatory... everyone will be like, jeez, that girl has harder work, and therefore, harder classes than me. She must be smart.
... And don't even get me started on the three computers in the very poorly lit corner of The Hill (restaurant-style alternative caf).
2) Library Computers versus Laptops in the Library
I have both used the desktop computers in the library and brought my own laptop there and yet I cannot decide which is better. There seem to be pros and cons to both, and I understand those, but I still can't decide what makes one person more likely to bring a computer than to simply use what is available to them. My lazy instinct is to not lug my laptop all the way through campus only to find out the wireless setting on my fabulous school-sponsored laptop is faulty and won't accept me. Also, I feel like using a desktop almost forces you to work faster. A laptop has a sort of luxorious feel - like oh, I can go sit in that uber comfortable chair and potentially fall asleep with it on a mini-table in front of me while pretending to do something. This is nearly impossible to do at a desktop, mainly because the screen is so bright it seems to cast a spotlight on your entire cubby. Also, I find the risk of potentially losing your work because you got it out of your email and haven't renamed the document to be especially motivational. Or, better yet, who isn't inspired by the awkward, bulging-backpack-wearing person hovering and pacing back and forth waiting to steal your computer? You just don't get that with a laptop.
Anyways, there are less phenomena than I anticipated on this post, but I babbled enough to make up for it. This is the other Ashley signing off... time to figure out when John Donne kicked the bucket.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Me, Myself, and Ashley....Day One
This day in history: Aphra Behn was baptized in 1640. This may seem like an insignificant date, but ironically enough, we just spent our last two Literary History classes discussing her novella, Oroonoko. Wow, fascinating. I don't know why anyone knows this, or why the History Channel thinks its viewers will be thrilled to discover this bit of insignificant information. But someday I hope the day of my bapitism appears on the History Channel, that would be fantastic. I am also thrilled to discover that they have a show called Pawn Stars. Truly brilliant. How do I get a job naming their television programs?
On a more serious note, it's finals week and I should actually be studying for my Literary History exam...instead I am writing. My roommate is diligently reading over her Women & Gender notes or her final tomorrow morning.
My favorite things about this week: People who have spent an entire semester without knowing how to check out a book from the library (this amazes me), Glee, building tents in your dorm room (and thus never being able to get from one side to the other), not studying for finals, recreating pivotal scenes from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, eating frosting right out of the can while watching Cake Boss, random facts that relate to what I should be studying for Lit. History, running into your favorite Professors, accidentally beginning to reread Beowulf while writing out essay questions, being told by a friend that she's making a spreadsheet of all the Christmas gifts she will be buying, and finally...eavesdropping on people who think they are speaking too quietly for you to hear them.
Had to get the first post out of the way. The next ones will be much more profound, of course.
On a more serious note, it's finals week and I should actually be studying for my Literary History exam...instead I am writing. My roommate is diligently reading over her Women & Gender notes or her final tomorrow morning.
My favorite things about this week: People who have spent an entire semester without knowing how to check out a book from the library (this amazes me), Glee, building tents in your dorm room (and thus never being able to get from one side to the other), not studying for finals, recreating pivotal scenes from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, eating frosting right out of the can while watching Cake Boss, random facts that relate to what I should be studying for Lit. History, running into your favorite Professors, accidentally beginning to reread Beowulf while writing out essay questions, being told by a friend that she's making a spreadsheet of all the Christmas gifts she will be buying, and finally...eavesdropping on people who think they are speaking too quietly for you to hear them.
Had to get the first post out of the way. The next ones will be much more profound, of course.
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