A Short Note on the Human Condition

*a wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other*


I just finished A Tale of Two Cities. In addition to needing to have it done by Friday, it was a fantastic work, and I read zealously for long chunks of time until my mind reached its Dickens saturation point, and no more high language and loaded symbolism could be stowed within my head. This novel has weaseled its way into my list of favorite books ever, not merely because it is, on the whole, brilliant, but more because each line, each sentence, exists as an individual statement of truth and beauty. Take the above quote, from chapter 3 of Book the First. It has often amazed me how much I am disconnected from the people I pass every day, how many times a day I ask 'how are you?' and how many times I do not really care what the answer is. But perhaps that is half the beauty of being human, that the true state of a person cannot be candidly known. What kind of world would we live in if everything I ever thought was open and public to anyone who cared to inquire about it. We might learn to live with this after awhile, to not exist in a permanent state of hatred for each other and our profoundly intolerant thoughts for everyone else, but on the whole I think it is better not to know, to view the situation as Dickens does, as wonderful. Ultimately, we were not meant to be open books, no matter how many novels we read.

The Stop-Action of Life

It was thus far been an interesting excursion into the assignment of "people in context." That is this week's photography assignment: to photograph people in context. As I am holding up the camera to people who are not smiling at it, who are occasionally unaware of its presence, who do not see through the lens as I do, I am noticing the nuances of people's daily lives, as well as how much cannot be captured by a camera. We were at Starbucks for a couple hours earlier today, and, as I continually snapped pictures of my companions playing cards, I also took note, and even a few surreptitious photos, of other beings in the coffee shop. There was a foreign man standing board straight, holding newspapers, in front of the 'Italian Roast' sign on the wall, but before I could take the picture, he moved forward in line, and the image was gone. Same with Liz as we played a card game. There were numerous expressions that passed over her face that I was unable to photograph before they were gone. This sense of continually missing the "perfect" picture is frustrating, but at the same time, forces me to think about life, not as a one long, continuous film that passes in a constant stream, but as a series of individual and detailed moments, all of which need to treasured as they are, and, if possible, captured.

Hometown

Every time I go home, I make it a point to spend quality time with my beloved Portland. This place forces me to consider how much where we live influences who we are, since I believe myself to be a native Portlander, but am unsure whether I was born that way, or whether the city shaped me to be its own. The homeless in the more real parts of town, the crowds outside the shady bars, the hairdresser wearing fishnets and covered in tattoos are all as much 'Portland' as the businesspeople in their suits, carrying expensive briefcases and coffee, and the hip thirty-somethings in small groups of three or four crowding out the upscale restaurants and cafes. Did these people adopt the city as their own, or are they the Aborigines, who have always been this way? It is easy to tell who does not belong to the city; they are ones with large umbrellas, inadequate clothing, and guide books. I pride myself on not even owning an umbrella, much less ever using one. I don't own the guide books, and I know how to layer in order to stay warm against the almost omnipresent raindrops.
Which leads me to the question of adaptation.
Although P-town is my hometown, I now reside near Seattle, and have made it a goal this semester to come to know Seattle like I know Portland, to gain knowledge of all the cool shops and restaurants around the city. Last night my two roommates and I went down to the U District (the area of Seattle surrounding the University of Washington) for some used clothes shopping. We hit up Buffalo Exchange and Recycled Fashion, and I finally found a pair of boots that I have been looking for. We are planning on going again for some more second-hand finds, maybe trying one of the many Asian food places along University Way. Seattle is indeed a beautiful city. Kitty-corner to one of the shops, jutting out above the under-construction warehouses, was a black, cathedral-style tower, with the light shining on it just so against the black sky, making it one of the most striking and beautiful scenes I have encountered here. I am looking forward to many such scenes in my future.

Snow Day

Yesterday it started snowing, and then kept up with a steady stream of flakes of varying intensities most of the night. The ground and cars are still covered in a layer of white. We just walked to Starbucks...and almost died. What looked like slush was actually ice. Adventures, adventures. We had someone come and rescue us. No deaths actually took place.

We had the 600 Christmas party last night, followed by an amazing snowball fight out on the Green. I cannot remember ever having that much fun in the snow! It was cold, and my feet were freezing, and I had snow in my pants, down the back and front of my shirt, in my mouth and eyeballs (it's okay....it was mutual, hehe). There were groups of people all over the Green, throwing snowballs, chasing each other, even a few with makeshift sleds. It was so pretty, with the soft snowfall and silver laughter. Annie and I drove to Taco Bell afterwards, getting back to campus right as the snow starting falling really hard. We sat in her car, heater blasting, watching the snow fall and cover the tree branches through the car windows.

So now I am sitting in my room, listening to Christmas music, Josh Groban style, and looking at the white ground outside my window. I hope it snows more later, because snow on the ground is nice, but falling snow is even better!

Account of Portland-town

Why do I always end up writing these things while in Crowder lounge? Maybe because I always have my computer and am always chilling. This time I am watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and drinking an Americano with Liz and Kim. I just got back from Portland, the PSU Worlds Warm Up debate tournament. We didn't do that great (not terrible though), and left this morning at about 9. My van was super boring, so halfway through the trip I van-hopped to the other van. This one was much more interesting, the discussion starting off with marriage, then turning into a heated discussion with all six of us talking at once about pornography (and how that applies to men and women, although Nigel and Tiffany had a differing stance than Ryan, Kevin, and I). Not even kidding. It was so great. These people (those on the debate team, I mean) are some of the most intelligent, thinking people I have ever met, which makes discussing pretty much anything an extremely eye-opening and enlightening experience. I love it.

Last night we went to the Greek Cuisina in P-town (funny story: we walked there, and Kevin was like, "I guess this is the difference between home and here. At home there aren't any hoes; here there are hoes a-plenty." Haha), and Tiffany and I split a Zeus platter, a giant plate with five appetizers (we got gyros, calamari, cheese pies, and other yummy Greek foods that I haven't had since I was in Greece). This was after a long day of five debates, some of which had some very weird resolutions. For example:
This house believes transsexual atheletes should compete in the lifestyle of their choice.

This house would grant amnesty to national liberation fighters.

This house believes developed countries are required to accept environmental refugees from Pacific nations.

Yeah. They were a little off. But it was fun, and I learned a lot, rocking some speeches, bombing most of the others. That's just how it goes.

As far as school goes, I am basically done with all work until finals, which is super nice, because that means that this week I can just go to class, chill, and *hopefully* do some prep study for finals. I am now done with debate stuff until next semester, because Portland was the final tournament of the year. Which is also nice. 'Cause now I can only do fun stuff. And study. Of course, study. Yippee.

Random Facts About My Present Existence

- I got three hours of sleep last night.
- Debate tournaments stress me out.
- I only have one class tomorrow, and I think I am going to skip.
- I am basically done with all my work until finals week.
- I really, really like orange juice.
- I cannot wait until I no longer have to deal with my present roommate.
- Government should be involved in the institution of marriage.
- Do I like music more than food? Tough question.
- After caf pizza for weeks, Pizza Hut tasted ambrosial.
- Moving away to college really forces you to think about who your friends are, and who you want your friends to be.
- Newspaper snowflakes (which are currently hanging from the ceiling of my Crowder lounge) make me really happy.
- I think I would go crazy without my cell phone.
- Despite how much I love campus, I am looking forward to Christmas break more for the fact that I will not be on campus than for the fact that I will not have classes.
- Coffee is the best ever.
- Michelle informed me that I am a most unusual female.
- I really like the color of my eyes.
- I hope it snows soon. It smelled like snow, or at the very least, winter, today.
- Current favorite song: Mr. Brightside, by The Killers.
- It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Monday

I am sitting in the Crowder 6 lounge, chilling with my girlies, Liz and Alexa, who are watching an old movie with Gary Cooper, and wasting time on the puter, as always. Today was the first day of classes after Thanksgiving break, and for some reason this morning my brain decided to take a vacation and leave me stranded *there was just a random piece of burned cereal in my Special K...how very upsetting*. I had a throbbing, epic headache that encapsulated my entire pate, which made any kind of motion difficult, and I was also rendered incapable of forming coherent sentences. Here lies a sample conversation:

Joe: Jessie!
Me: Yeah?

Joe: We don't have to turn in anything for debate, right?

Me: Uh...no...but eventually...we have to...uh...turn in...those...uh...two briefs, but, uh...you don't, like, uh...have to this time...unless...uh...you want to...

Joe: Okay. *pause* Are you okay?

So, yeah. That's kinda how my morning went. I also could not remember my ID number when I was trying to buy juice and a muffin at the Aerie. It was just great fun. So, on top of the killer headache and not being able to speak English, I was also starving. Shawn and I had gotten stuck in major traffic on the way back, so we missed dinner, and by the time we got back, I had been hungry long enough that I didn't notice I was hungry. It was finally about midnight when I realized I hadn't eaten in twelve hours, so I ate a couple Poptarts, read a canto in The Rape of the Lock, and went to bed. Then I got super hungry in OT, so I bought a muffin before British Lit, meaning that in 24 hours, I had eaten two Poptarts and a muffin. Not good. Maybe that explains my inability this morning to operate and perform normal human functions. Like talking.

Moving on to funny story time. I went swing dancing last night with Mallory and Liz (yes, I had homework; no, I didn't finish it that night; yes, I did it during chapel). It was so fun!! The ballroom was dim and had that slight haze hanging just below the ceiling, and the dance floor was filled with people dancing with a level of skill I have rarely seen. The DJ played the staticy jazz from a bygone era when everyone knew the Charleston, and women wore red lipstick. I was standing on the edge of the floor, watching this crazy-good couple dance away to my right, and this extremely hott guy came up, smiling, and was like, "Don't get nervous, I just wanna ask you to dance." He was such a player, and so much fun to dance with. I have determined that swing dance is exponentially more fun if you are flirting while doing it. And this guy made it super fun. We were chatting (i.e., flirting), and then he was like, "I can't turn left. Like in Zoolander." I had just watched Zoolander a couple days ago (for those of you who don't know, it's about a male model, and one of his problems, besides being the epitome of dimwitted, is that he can't turn to the left), and I was like, really? I'm not sure if he was serious, but I think he was. I mean, who just makes that stuff up? Anyway, he was super fun (and hott and buff...just throwing it out there), and it was really funny. That, on top of my ride to school getting pulled over for drunk driving (he totally wasn't, FYI), and then the cop assuming I was his wife, made for quite an enjoyable evening with a series of humorous anecdotes. I am thinking I will try to get to bed fairly early (still exhausted...), maybe like 11, and I really should start that paper that is due on Thursday. So much to do, so many ways to waste time online, I always say. But who knows how well these good intentions for actually keeping my health and grades up will actually go. Not that my grades are in danger. I make sure those aren't. It is my health that is the variable that always gets shoved to the bottom of the list of important duties to fulfill. Such is college.