When the student is ready, the teacher appears

When I was writing my Holy/Dangerous Women paper, and I woke up the day it was due about 6 hours later than I meant to, I started feeling this horrible panic. I decided to take a shower to move through it, and in the shower this phrase came to me, one that my dad has said a million times but I never quite understood:


"When the student is ready, the teacher appears."


I realized this paper, this panic, this fear of failure, were all here to be my teachers. I don't mean this in a rainbows and puppies kind of way... though I'm sure rainbows and puppies can be teachers too, but not the kind I needed right then. I'd always thought of the phrase as more literal. Like some wise and knowing person was going to show up and gently enlighten me as soon as I attained some kind of readiness. And certainly the fact that this had not occurred was a sign that I was, as I secretly feared, inept and/or underdeveloped.


But now... this paper that I was fumbling through, that I was so scared to write because I was sure it would prove finally what a terrible student I am... was here to teach me? I was very clear on this for awhile, even thinking that what I was experiencing was far more valuable than getting an A and praise. Because what I was suddenly learning was why I procrastinate, the way in which fear drives me to a very specific system of behavior. It's not that I can't do the work in three weeks that I manage to cram into one frightening day. It's not that I'm somehow stupid or crazy or belligerent. It's specific fear management: I'm afraid of doing it wrong, so I put it off until I have to either do it or fail in a way that seems unthinkable. At which point I do it, but not with the time and care I know I could potentially put in. This way I can avoid both failure (finding out I couldn't do something even though I really tried my best) and success (finding out I really could). Plus, I get a nice adrenaline rush and the feeling of being a tough cookie.

It's not stupid. It's not random. It may not be based in reality, but it is, in its own way, a clever method of handling a very emotionally raw fear: that I'm not actually any good. At (whatever I may be doing) or (fundamentally at all).

So I had this realization and I kind of forgot, and then today I had to go meet with my professor about this paper, without having any idea of my grade or how I had done.

I was scared. I tried to talk myself out of it and steel myself for the worst, but I was scared. I had to wait while she talked to another student... of course, the student in the class who always seemed to have her shit together and knew what she wanted to write about in the paper from day 1... so I waited, hearing words float downstairs into the conference room where I'd decided to plant myself, and then went in to hear what was up.

She basically opened by saying I'd done a very good job with textual analysis and the application of theory, but essentially I hadn't written a research paper. Ok. What? Not ok. She was telling me I hadn't done the assignment correctly. Oh my God... I hadn't heard something like this since high school. I was sitting there in my seat with the paper written all over in my lap, and I couldn't look at it too closely, and I didn't dare check for my grade, all the way at the very back.

She went on in this back and forth mode, both saying that what I had done was fundamentally wrong, and that if it wasn't, if I worked on it, I could have this very good publishable thing.

I tried to say things that were intelligent and open without either defending myself too much or sounding like I had known what I had to do and just cavalierly decided not to do it... I have no idea how it sounded for real. I asked what specifically I should have done/should do in the future. I said that I had switched gears very close to the end, and knew on some level that I was shafting the research. I said that I was used to writing papers that required less background (I didn't say this, but I was thinking that I kind of jumped off from the model of my thesis, where I was all but ordered to use less background).

She seemed to genuinely wish she could have helped me earlier. She said that my paper was the first one she read, and she was really worried that maybe no one had understood the assignment (God!) But I was afraid of her, and I was afraid to be clear about where I was with my work because I knew it was not far enough.

She said that I could have asked for an incomplete, but that she understood if I just wanted it done. She asked if I had submitted a bibliography when she asked for it, and that's when the bottom really fell out for me. What bibliography? I remembered very clearly the email where she canceled class so we could have more time to research. I remembered meeting with her to talk about my nascent project ideas. I remembered NOTHING about a bibliography, which apparently everyone else had turned in! It became clear as we talked that people had either turned them in or just discussed them verbally, which is probably what I figured our meeting was... I don't know. But I felt ridiculous.

I think I started to crumble at this point, and I think she knew, because she wrapped up quickly and dismissed me. I don't know how I looked... I didn't burst into tears in her office or anything, but I definitely beat a hasty retreat. It felt so horrible that I had to endure all that and then say "thank you, ok, thank you, bye."

And did I ever mention that I HATE when people can see what I feel and I don't intend it? I always have this snarling animal reaction inside... if you've upset me, at least have the decency to let me lie about it. Which she did... but I think that she knew.

I made it outside and finally looked for my grade: Just a B. And a B+ for the class. I mean, at this point, I thought it was definitely going to be worse... what kind of grades do you get if you don't do the assignment? But the grade didn't really matter. I already felt that crunch inside that told me I had failed. And to be perfectly honest I pretend that I think Bs are totally fine because I get them and I know they ought to be and sometimes they are... especially if I get a C, too. But to be perfectly honest I don't want Bs. I want As.

Because I want to be perfect, and not perfectly honest. I don't want to be honest.

So there I was, walking home and trying not to cry, and I felt all the tightening start inside of me... all the reactions to the reaction, all the "this is so stupid, why are you being such an idiot, it's only a B, what is your problem, so you messed up, why are you doing this to yourself?" and "why didn't you just do something earlier, if you weren't so dumb and afraid you could have fixed this, or if you just took more time" and "you know it's really ok so don't get upset, let's think about this rationally," and my dad saying I really need all As and this voice in my head yelling at him about whether he is at Harvard getting his master's so how the fuck does he know what I need to get... noisy, noisy place, my head.

And I thought, I'm just going to stay with how I feel. It doesn't matter why I feel that way, it doesn't matter where this is coming from, I just want to stay with how I feel. Not fight. Not wallow. Be with.

I don't know how to describe being with how I feel. It's different. I had to keep reminding myself to do it, gently, like if a kid is riding a trike and keeps swerving off the path. It doesn't stop hurting. I got inside and sat here crying. But it's like sitting with someone, like sitting next to your friend while you are doing something hard together.

When the student is ready, the teacher appears.

I don't know what this all means, but I think it means something different, something a little bit new. And if that's true, it's worth it. The As don't feed my soul anyway. They just lessen the anxiety for a few minutes.

I'm going to read my comments now. Stick around, I'll be right back.

That was ok. I think she's right about most of the things that would strengthen my arguments... I think she's wrong about several critiques of my style. It's nice to be able to tell the difference between what I agree with and what I don't without categorically responding to the whole thing as a personal attack.

It's funny, when I woke up this morning, and started thinking about all the horrible things I had to do today (do you do that in bed, too?), I for some reason found myself saying a prayer, of gratitude, in advance, for the day and what would come of it. I never do that.

I don't know how to end this... I don't know why I wrote it... I wanted to share what I was thinking. I wanted to allow it to settle a bit in me.

A Little Spot of Fun Before I Turn in My Paper...

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

" '...They had him on horses so he could look like the Marlboro Man.' Cole states that female consumers nonetheless soon began to worry that he 'looked gay' because 'they did not see what they considered masculine by conventional standards.' Cole's comments imply that the male model's apparently lack of 'conventional masculinity' was a direct result of his nakedness."

Oooh, and I'm not going to do a big citation! I'll just tell you that it's from a book called Strip Show by Katherine Liepe-Levinson.

Guess what my paper was about?

:)

Scary Dream

So, I had this bizarre and frightening dream just before I woke up, and since there's no one here/awake at the moment to share it with, I figured I would let it float out into cyberspace.

First of all, I was in a large group hanging out with Maddie, and she asked if I/we had time to all go to this show together, and I was like, yeah, I think we can make that work. And then she said, "Great, 'cause we all should audition for them as much as possible, and then they'll get to know us," and I got a little freaked out because I wasn't sure I could audition for something that wasn't near my school and actually do it.

Anyway, possibly to wait for our audition, a few of us were sent to separate rooms... in my case I think it was actually a separate apartment, and I was sitting there at a large table with this man who looked like a guy I know from school, but was actually a dream-person, in that I had this concrete sense of how he normally behaved, and we also shared memories and knowledge that has no bearing on the real world. So, for some reason as a joke (I think he was taking on another persona or something?) this man was being very flirtatious and teasing and grabby, doing some kind of affected accent and snuggling up to me and kissing my neck and ear, etc. And I knew that he was not serious and that this was part of the way he operated, but it was still weird. And then he said he wanted something from the kitchen (part of the game was that we were in some kind of huge mansion), and he walked around the table and found Charlotte and was like, here is the kitchen help! I could tell that Charlotte was confused and displeased with this man's behavior, and I wanted to explain why he was acting this way, which apparently I knew... but I decided the thing to do was to stick up for her, so I said she wasn't the kitchen help and put my arm around her. And then the man was puzzled because this was not how I was supposed to play the game...

But this quickly became a non-issue as I caught sight or sense of Hugh. Hugh is an enormous dark gray enchanted wolf-dog that sucks out your soul in a way that is visually similar to the Dementor attacks as shown in the Harry Potter movies. There was a terrible witch, old enemy to both the man and myself, who enchanted/created Hugh, and the fact that he was around meant that the witch was back in power and making evil plans. And Hugh was incredibly hard to fight because the only way to defeat him was to cut off his ears and his tail (and possibly his nose, though I'm not sure that was necessary) You could do anything else in the world to him and he would instantly recover. Even if you did cut off his ears and tail the witch could revive him magically, but this at least took some time and you could escape.

In this case, though, for some odd reason, Hugh was very tiny. This didn't make him much less dangerous, because you could still easily get your soul sucked out, but it did make him easier to catch. And at some point I did catch him. I have no explanation for my behavior after this, except that Hugh filled me with the most incredible cold terror, and I do think in my defense that interacting with his face in any way, maybe especially when he was small because you would have to get closer to him, gave him the opportunity to suck out your soul. In any case, I did not attempt to cut off his ears and tail, but tried to squish him with my hands and then dropped him out the window.

He landed by a park bench, sort of flattened for a moment, and then came back to life as his old gigantic self. I think I was actually pale with fear at this point. I told the man that Hugh had really and truly come back-- I think the man had cut off Hugh's tail and ears before and I was hopeful he would do so again. He made some promise of help, but I had the feeling he was just leaving. Charlotte either went with him or just disappeared, starting a little pattern of people appearing and disappearing in the dream. However, this was not unusual or upsetting in the sense it would be if people actually appeared and disappeared, though I sometimes wondered where they had gone.

I went and found Rachel in another room... maybe the kitchen again... and told her all about Hugh. I told her the whole history of me and my associates and Hugh and the witch, (which I wish I could remember now), and told her how Hugh was after us. I was trying very hard to impress upon her the extreme gravity of the situation, and she said she understood, but she was cooking an enormous skillet full of a large assortment of foods, including matzo balls and some kind of broth, and carrots, too, I think. And she kept having to do stuff so the food didn't get ruined, and she was also very upset, but in a sort of dry and bitter way, and from these sort of unrelated behaviors I was concerned that she wasn't taking this matter seriously enough and might not help me.

And then suddenly my mom was there, and she seemed to want to listen about Hugh, but she couldn't seem to understand. She kept asking questions like, "so we can't do this or that to him?" and it was frustrating, because I'd said over and over that the only way was to cut off his ears and tail. And I was trying to explain that Hugh was specifically after me, so it wouldn't do ay good to go somewhere else or whatever. I think at this point there was a larger group of people around, including little children, and I was extremely upset because I didn't know how to deal with or defend them. We saw Hugh out the window and knew he was getting closer...

And I woke up.

Upon Perusal of My Book List...

...it occurs to me that perhaps what I really need is an abundance of silly, non-intellectual fun.

Book List

So, it's that time of year when everyone is thinking obsessively about what to get me for Christmas. I love surprises best of all, and I don't want to stifle creativity, but I have a bunch of books I've been looking at/hearing about/writing down randomly in my notebook during class when they are mentioned, and I figured I would share. Anyway, it will be helpful to me to have them all in one place instead of scattered through various notebooks and scraps of paper. This list will probably grow, so check often. And maybe it will be a wish list, too. Would that be more fun, or just confusing? We'll see how I feel when I'm writing it two seconds from now.

1. Sunflower: On the Possibilities and Limits of Forgiveness by Simon Wiesanthal. So excited about this one! It's based on the true experience of a Holocaust survivor who encountered an SS officer on his deathbed, whose dying wish was to speak to someone who had survived the Holocaust and seek forgiveness for his crimes.

2. Severance by Robert Olen Butler. Ok, this one is weird given my intense dislike of the whole decapitation thing, but it's intriguing... it's a collection of mini-stories, each with exactly however many words correspond to the number of seconds the brain apparently retains consciousness after decapitation (200 something I think), each from the POV of some decaptitated person across human history.

3. Fallen by David Maine. Family saga: Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel.

4. The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien. Been meaning to read this one for years, never quite do.

5. Love by Toni Morrison. See #4, also it's the only book of hers I haven't read.

6. Vested Interests: Cross-Dressing and Cultural Anxiety by Marjorie Garber. Because eventually, the library will make me return it.

7. The End of Memory: Remembering Rightly in a Violent World by Miroslav Wolf. Or Volf, my writing there is iffy.

8. On Photography and Regarding the Pain of Others by Susan Sontag. She's totally intriguing, though I understand if this is not the sort of title you look for in a Christmas present.

9. Angels in America by Tony Kushner, but what I want is the movie/miniseries, not the book. Because I just love Angels in America, and I never get to see anything but the first part over and over and over again.

There are more, I think, but this is getting dull, and I'm kind of assuming that buying me theory is not what most people have in mind. Nonetheless, it's good to have them written down some place. Perhaps I'll add later.

It's Going Around!

Describe yourself using one band and song titles from that band
Choose a band/artist and answer only in song TITLES by that band::	Billy Joel
Are you male or female::	She's Always a Woman
Describe yourself::	Keeping the Faith
How do some people feel about you::	You May Be Right
How do you feel about yourself::	A Matter of Trust
Describe your ex girlfriend/boyfriend::	Shades of Gray
Describe your current girlfriend/boyfriend::	New York State of Mind
Describe where you want to be::	The Great Wall of China
Describe what you want to be::	An Innocent Man
Describe how you live::	The River of Dreams
Describe how you love::	All About Soul
Share a few words of wisdom:	Only the Good Die Young

Dropping from the Eaves

So, you have to imagine that you are walking across Harvard's campus to Lamont, the big undergraduate library. It's a beautiful night, almost-black sky studded with clouds, a big gibbous moon... and then you hear a man speaking on his cell phone, in a perfect English accent, and a very agitated tone of voice.


"Caroline! I live two blocks away! His house is right next to mine!"

Pause.

"Well, I'm frightened for him!"

Pause.

"Because he seems to have gone stark raving mad!"

Pause.

"You said he attacked you, shoving you about and all that..."

Pause. He lowers his voice.

"Well, I'm not going to talk about it here."

Sadly, he is telling the truth. But I think you will see that this is nonetheless a singular experience.

This is100% NOT the Short Paper I Am "Writing"

But everyone seemed so convinced that I would take it, and I don't want to disappoint. I will try to make it interesting.

A Better Survey Than The Ones Above And Below - for girls and gay guys
Basics
What do you prefer to be called?:	Darling.
When were you born and where?:	I'm afraid I don't recall.
Where do you currently reside?:	Any one of a number of libraries at Harvard University.
Getting to know you
What could you eat for the rest of your life?:	Breyer's mint chocolate chip ice cream. And puppies. (Apparently this is going to be one of those liberally untrue surveys).
Where is your favorite place to visit locally?:	I am partial to the tunnel between the really big library and its auxiliary.
What is your favorite place to visit for a vacation?:	It's nice to get out of the library and take a stroll across the yard. I should capitalize yard to clarify things, but suddenly that seemed prententious. The problem with going to Harvard is that you become hyper-vigilant about seeming pretentious, and that in itself may in fact be a form of pretense.
What is your preference: AIM, MSN, Yahoo!, etc.?:	Telepathy. It's really the only way to whisper sweet nothings to world leaders in diplomatic meetings and watch their ears turn red.
If you could magically appear in full costume in a movie, which would it be:	I would like to appear in full costume for Elizabeth, but in something totally different... like Brokeback Mountain, maybe. Or vice versa.
Which role would you play?:	The star. Or the crazy old lady.
What is your favorite accessory?:	I am always fond of my Bryn Mawr ring, and currently charmed by a new little snake.
What is your dream career?:	Telepathic Mischief Maker Laureate.
Which country would you live in if you had the choice?:	Narnia
Do you believe in the Loch Ness Monster?:	Believe in it, sure. Believe it, not after Valentine's Day 1997.
How about ouija boards?:	I like my ghosts like I like my liquor: I don't have anything to use as a punchline, so just pretend.
Which would you rather be stuck in?
Winter blizzard or summer heat/humidity?:	Blizzard, provided no threat to life and limb. I always feel the need to put these caveats. As though some sinister force is waiting to trip me up based on a casual omission of stipulation.
Hurricane or Earthquake?:	Good God, I'm taking a class on Katrina. EARTHQUAKE. Same stipulations apply as above.
An opera or a football game?:	Opera!
A closet or an elevator?:	A closet? Unless I was in the elevator with someone interesting. Like those questions where you have to pick famous people you want to have dinner with. Pick three people, alive or dead, that you would like to be stuck in an elevator with. Or a closet, I guess, but why would you be stuck in a closet? I guess if it were full of people and you couldn't reach the door handle. And maybe if one of the people was malicious and incredibly strong! Choose wisely when you pack your closet, everyone.
a railroad track with an oncoming train or hanging from a carnival ride?:	Hanging from a ride, but only with Noah from Into the Dream.
A fight between friends or a room filled with scary spiders?:	I'm usually fine with spiders.
Randoms
Who are you jealous of and for what reason?:	You, you sexy brilliant thing.
which type of salad dressing do you prefer?:	French. Especially the Catalina/Country French sort. Bleu Cheese. Especially crumbly.
Can you eat with chopsticks?:	I can also terrorize small insects with them. But I don't hurt them. I like small insects.
...Are you addicted to myspace? Tell the truth.:	In precisely the same way that I am addicted to heroin.
In the Opposite sex (or same if you are gay)
What is your favorite eye color?:	Aubergine.
What is the first thing you notice when you are attracted to him?:	Genital area.
Do you like light, sparkling hair or smooth, dark hair?:	Dark sparkling hair. Like if champagne were made with bourbon.
Any preferred height?:	Nope.
What is one thing he could say that would make you melt?:	I'm not going to write that here. Particularly if poised with a tattoo needle and reading steamy poetry.
What is the most romantic scenerio you can think of?:	Sex under the table in the aforementioned diplomatic meeting, while transmitting crucial moments to the world leaders with their faces substituted for ours.
Do you need a ring, if he were to propose?:	I would rather that not be done over the phone.
Are you crushing on anyone in particular?:	Yes to the spirit, but I feel that "crushing on" is a silly phrase. Just my $0.02.
If not, who is the closest thing to *drool* you can think of?:	Now the phraseology is getting so silly that I refuse to play. Is that pretentious? Alas, I think so.
Fashion expression
What is your favorite color to wear?:	Red? But I wear other colors more. I don't know. Puce.
Is there an article of clothing you wear every day?:	There's an article of clothing I wear NO days. Many, in fact.
What brings out the color of your eyes?:	I guess brown things. And maybe olive. Sometimes black. So if I had a gown made of grass and dried leaves and tree bark and the spaces between stars.
Are your nails painted? If so, what color?:	My nails are actually painted on. It's a swell party trick to peel them right off again. Not for the faint of heart.
What would you call your style?:	Jarvis Erik W.
What is your frequent shop? (department store):	What is my frequent shop??
Is your hair short or long?:	Kinda medium in need of cut.
Is it your natural color?:	No, and I'll never tell you what that is. Not unless you call me darling under the table at a diplomatic conference.
Do you prefer to be tan or pale?:	A gentleman never tells.
Friends
Do you get very personal with your friends?:	Very.
Are you friends with two or more different 'groups'?:	At the same time? I'm not that kind of girl.
Who is most simliar to you?:	Huh...my first instinct is Becky, because we spend so much time together that we've rubbed off. (I'm going to keep Rachel's answer for this one, because I think it is very apt.)
Who is most opposite?:	Huh...my first instinct is Becky, because we spend so much time together that we've rubbed off, and bits of us keep sort of floating ito this central vortex between us, and drifting away, thus creating an ever-increasing number of differences.
Who do you suppose will take this survey after you?:	Good God, you think I am so preoccupied with jealousy to think about that sort of thing in the act of taking it? Well... you're not wrong. It will probably be this handsome fellow across the way from me, damn his non-aubergine survey-stealing eyes.
Finale
What time is it?:	TIME TO WRITE MY PAPER. I'm hungry. This was not a smart idea. I hope you liked it anyway.

Dreams

First, I dreamed that Maddie and Charlotte and Sarah Bardenett and David Fanelli were all coming to my old home for my birthday dinner. And we were all staying in this front part of the place (which was layed out in some totally different way) and trying to figure out where everyone was going to sleep.

Then, I dreamed that I was telling people about this play... except that it switched into me being a part of the story sometimes, which really looked more like a movie than a play. I think what happened is that I saw part of the story in my head, and then tried to describe it. (Sort of like this, in fact.) But there was a man who was the main character, and I was seeing through his eyes when I was there. And I think he had this weird cut, on his chin or below his throat, but I'm not sure. Anyway, he was in a sort of food court, which was mostly deserted, and I think he got some pizza or some kind of food, and he was talking to the people who worked there. He had just been through some kind of harrowing experience, in which this youngr eporter, who I guess was a collegue of his in some capacity, had been killed. The reporter's name was Jim.

Anyway, this guy went outside. It was a city, and sort of freshly rained on, and he ran into this other man, except the individual was somewhat gender-ambiguous... not really because of behavior, I don't think, though his clothes were a little unusual in some way, but more because he was actually an angel or some other kind of spiritual being. He kind of approached my guy and they had a conversation. I think the spirit guy was saying that he and his kind used to be all over the earth, or something, and then they had to leave, but a lot of them didn't. And he was saying, "Why would we leave? Look at it here. Would you leave?" And this lead my guy to sort of take a mental stock of why his life was good, or something. And this was accompanied by a mental image of a naked woman sitting up in bed, but she was very undefined in her appearance... I think the point of her was that she was aware of the world and happy? I'm not sure. But he said, to himself but I think the spirit guy heard him, "I've got a place to live, and I've got (something else I forget), and I've got a man who loves me." And I think he was trying to avoid the subject of the experience he just went through and the death of Jim with the spirit, but the spirit knew all about it, and was forcing him to talk about it. And he kept trying to talk about the things in his life that were good, like, "I've got friends, and family, and a cat," or something. But the spirit was very insistant that they deal with this experience. I think the problem was that my guy knew that if he directly faced or admitted to what happened, he would have to go back to the bad situation in some way and fight a battle or something, and he was scared.

Then it flashed to me being in a hallway, and I was playing a game with Charlotte which involved us kicking a ball back and forth with the object being to hit the doorways... I think I lost. But then I went to make some meatballs, and I was telling my mom and Charlotte about this play-thing, and I had the same cut as the guy, and it was really quite bloody and we had to keep binding it up, and my mom was telling me calmly that I should take as much medicine as I wanted, and probably at the hospital they would give me ten or twenty tylenol. But I was trying to cook meatballs and tell about the play, and my mom seemed uninterested, and Charlotte told me that this wasn't the way you were supposed to summarize a play, that I was putting in too much detail, and tried to describe how you had to say it all in one sentence... and I was really fed up with everyone not listening to the story, and my bleeding chin/neck was painful and irritating. So then my mom was like, let's go to the hospital, and I realized we were going out the door with the meatballs just sitting on the stove in grease, and I was really pissed and I was like, if we leave them like that they'll go bad while we're gone! And I went back and was trying to get it all in the fridge really quickly and drain the grease and my mom was just sort of cheerfully hurrying me out the door... it was all rather upsetting.

After having written that out, it is about as weird as I thought. Clearly some kind of anxiety dream... and I like the play part... but odd.

Why I Cannot Write My Midterm

Dear Professor,

I regret to inform you that I cannot write my midterm because there are people to talk to online, and they say such things as this:

tinica: I'm probably disturbing the whole neighborhood of trash-taking-out students

tinica: Oh yes. That is how I arrived at this all-night exam-fest. Through stalwart discipline.

avalon2004: bounce, bounce, everybody bounce...

kkaczmawr: *revels in many hugs*

charlotteroserl: They should send that out in the Move On emails: Don't lure your lover out of traveling distance of their polling place the night before the election.

I am sure you will understand and agree that such quality interactions have priority over your exam. Thank you for your time, and of course I will be happy to include you in such witty and fascinating exchanges if you will contact me online.

Your semi-obediant student,
Becky

Irresistable Spam

I just got a mail message with the subject line: " mosquito boat peace offering."

I couldn't resist.

Inside, it says: "if you will only tell me what sort of girl miss king is, i shall know what to think."and kitty were out of sight, then returned into the drawing-room.

Hopefully it's not some horrible virus, but really... how bizarre and interesting.

What's in a Name?

Rebecca

Add to My Favorite Names

Origin Meaning Hebrew bound Traits: People think of Rebecca as a pretty, unpretentious young woman who is smart, well-read, and either outspoken and strong-willed, or soft and sweet. Famous people with this name: the biblical Rebekah, Isaac's wife; Kate D. Wiggin's novel Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm; Daphne du Maurier's novel Rebecca; actress Rebecca (The Hand That Rocks the Cradle) De Mornay; author Rebecca West 1. Strong, independent-minded Rebecca! Parent's naming their child Rebecca beware of attitudinal difficulties coupled with an undying creative wit! 2. To me the name Rebecca means ~PRINCESS!~ 3. To me Rebecca means witch with a capital "B" but you HAVE to love them anyway for thier weird ways and their stinky butts!! 4. I love my name because no one else had it in my school growing up so it made me feel special, but if you name your girl this be prepared for the nicknames that come with it...rarely any of my friends call me Rebecca, they always shorten it to Becca (which I don't mind), Beck (which is a little annoying), or Becky (I loathe that nickname, its sounds like I should be feeding chickens on a farm). Also for some reason people have a hard time spelling this name they're always sticking extra letters in there. But overall I love my name. 5. Ready Eager Beautiful Exciting Cute Cuddly Any thing she want to be 6. Rebecca is a beautiful and name that has a certain elegance to it. Also I think that when heard it is someone who you readily want to respect but the nicknames of Rebecca, like Becky, Becca(Becka), Beck, and Reba I don't think are as readily respected. Overall though I love the name and am proud to have it as my own. It's also an old name and even though I might not spell it the same way they do in the Bible it's still beautiful and respected. 7. Rebecca is one of my three greatest joys in the world. At 3 she is so full of life and smiles. I just wish she would learn to go potty. Middletown, Pa 8. 'Rebecca' makes me think of a young, gorgeous brunette who is highly intelligent and has a wild streak. 9. My daughter Rebecca is beautiful with long dark hair. She is the biggest Tomboy around, full of life, funny, smart, mouthy, cuddly, daddy's girl, great big sister, friendly, TALKATIVE, intuitive, independant, strong. A beautiful name for a beautiful person. Will go far in life. 10. I love the name Rebecca! The only nickname I like for it, though, is Becca. Rebecca is a beautiful, classic name that I would give to a daughter if my sister-in-law wasn't named that already. By the way, my SIL is a remarkable, independent woman who knows her own mind. She is strong and capable. She is also drop-dead gorgeous! 11. I love my name (Rebecca duh!) It flows off your tongue very nicely!! As does Rebecca and Ryleigh (my twin sisters name!) we are both tall, blonde, smart and very athletic! 12. My name is Rebecca I love my name and I often go by Becca I have had to very wonderful friends and one was Becca and the other was Becca we had a lot of fun with our names when meeting new people but at work it is only Rebecca for some reason Becca just does not work if you want Respect 13. :D I adore my name; Rebecca, I'm not trying to be vain or anything. Until I was in middle school I was called Rebecca. I get called Becca often, now. I like Becca, but Rebecca just is what I am used to. There are many nicknames with this name. The only problem I had, is that people love to add an extra 'B' ...I don't know why. 14. my daughters name is alpha rebekah and it means "beginning to be born again". people thought it was such a "strange" name at first, but, she is a beautiful young woman now and her name fits her perfectly! 15. Well as a Rebecca myself I must say it's a wonderful name. Altho mine has a twist to the spelling and I think more parents should try different ways and see what fits them. My spelling is ReBeccah and yes it's hard in school no one EVERY spells it right and no you can't find stuff with your name printed on it but then again none of that mattered cuz in the end I know it was because I was unique. It's a very simple and wholesome name fit for any little girl that will some day come along and climb on your lap and ask about why you named her so. 16. I LOVE My Name... Rebecca! I Though DO Go By Becky. I Hated When People Would Call Me Becca Or Beck. Its Rebecca OR Becky. Thats It!! Growing Up, Kids Couldnt Make Fun Of It. And I Was The Only One With My Name. I Am A Witch At Times, I Have MY OWN Personality By Far. But I Have To Say In The End... Everyone Loves A Rebecca. 17. I LOVE THE NAME REBEKAH! I think it is the most beautiful bible name! I am a redhead and my name is Rebekah. I am part crazy and do a lot of wild things, I don't know if it is the name or the hair color, or maybe the combination of the two that makes me who I am. I know a Rebecca, and she is a stuck up b*tch! So don't spell your daughter's name like that--thanx 18. I am Rebecca and I think the description pretty much says it all. And it's not either/or - it's both that I'm strong and outspoken and yet soft and compassionate. I have found, however, that Becky doesn't garner nearly the respect at work as Rebecca. I HIGHLY recommend to all of you called Becky, Becca, Beckie, Reba (especially Reba) or any other variation to stick to "Rebecca" in your working world. [[how's that for outspoken]] 19. Rock on #16! I am a Rebecca too and I never liked the name until my mom told me why she picked it. Rebecca was a friend of hers in high school that my grandfather really liked and my mom always remembered how happy it made her dad that she was friends with such a nice girl so she named me after her. But I do have to say that I have always been called Becky, and because I am so outspoken I still feel like I get respect from coworkers for my honesty and the fact that I do not take crap from anyone! So keep on being your outspoken, stubborn, energetic, beautiful selves all of us Rebeccas out there! 20. My sister is Rebecca but she has no commen since. Nothing against the name, and Yes I still Love her!!! 21. Hi All, My youngest daughter's name is Rebecca, I have always loved the name. My daughter is caring, hysterically funny,witty, beautiful, intellegent, facinating, loving and totally a young lady. She is so amazing - and I have a feeling she's going to take on the world soon ! You go GIRL ! Ciao, Kelly 22. As a Mom and Dad with unusual (OK, weird) names, we were careful to pick names for both of our girls that they could live with. We were very proud of Rebecca Suzanne and our beautiful child is also to be proud of. She is very athletic, social, and has a giving heart. The only problem she has with her name is the fact that the Biblical Rebekah lied to her husband. My Rebecca knows better! 23. my name is ok but I wish my mom named me molly. 24. This is my best friend's name. She is pretty, smart and very strong-willed. It's an elegant name, I think. 25. We love this name. We named our daughter Rebecca Nacole. We picked out the name Rebecca 7 months before she was born, we didn't even know she was going to be a girl. Nacole came to us later on, today she is one month old. She has dark brown hair, dark blue eyes, very strong for a month old baby, and very happy. 26. my aunt name is Rebecca but she like it by Becky! she died in 1999 but i will name my daughter after her Rebecca "Becky" Faith! 27. I like my name - and I'd be willing to bet that a good protion of the Rebeccas out there have the middle name, Lynn - am I right??? :) I just always wanted it spelled Rebekkah - more unique, I guess... 28. Rebecca is such a soft and feminine name. And she's always caring and sweet. Rebecca's are great people. I've known a couple in my life and I've liked all of them. If she goes by Becca then she's cute and perky and if by Becky then soft-spoken and traditional. Rebecca is so classic. I'd name my daughter Rebecca Marie. I imagine her having soft brown curls and big green eyes. And I'd call her Bex for short sometimes but for the most part she'd be Rebecca. 29. I am a Rebecca Lynn in my early thirties. I have always been called Becky, until I met my husband. He has always called me Rebecca, and it was then that I decided that I liked my name. Close friends call me Becky, but I often refer to myself as Rebecca to those I do not know. The characterists of Rebecca are on target. Overall, I am well liked, and sweet, but have a tendency to be a B-witch without even realizing it. And like the biblical Rebecca, I have lied to my husband. So, if you plan to name your child Rebecca, instill deeply the respect for honesty and sincerity. 30. Rebecca is a wonderful name.It has a nice ring to it. 31. My friend is named Rebecca and she is smart (although not as smart as me) and blond almost white haired. 32. I have to say i love the name. My big sis is named Rebecca. but she goes by Becci which is not that common. but it suits her. I just like the name 33. my name is Rayna Lynn and my twin sister is Raygan Lee, I've always wished my name was Rebecca, I love it, if i have a girl she will definatly be Rebecca, she has to have an "R" name like her mommy, and auntie and uncle. Rayna Lynn P. * 34. I have always thought my name, Rebecca was elegant and also a classic name. When someone calls me "Becky" I tell them that is not the name I was born with and it is presumetious (sp)to call me a different name. Would you like to be called Jane if your name was ann? Since becky and Rebecca don't sound anything alike I wish people would "get the difference". Too bad old-fashioned names are not popular but now girls need a Male gender name or Surname which is worse! Is McKenzie feminine? 35. I love my name, Rebecca, but unfortunately the only other Rebeccas I've ever met were really awful! 36. This is my name and fits me. I am definitely outspoken and strong willed- temper temper! I also am very well read and love knowledge. I work in the biology field so I am always learning something new. I never cared for my name growing up as I hated the nicknames (except for Becca, which is the only one people are allowed to use unless they're special). I hate Becky, but the other girls I knew named Rebecca all went by Becky and I was the only Becca- I never got mixed up in the confusion. I was supposed to be Sara Jane, but I will take Rebecca Lee over that any day! Yes, a nice name, but beware if you are naming your child this! I agree we all have tempers and attitude! Be READY! 37. Rebecca is my best friend's name and she goes by becca or beck. she has long light reddish brown hair and big blue eyes and is funny, a little shy, gorgeous, interesting, and a wonderful best friend. she has never in her life been snobby or mean to anyone. 38. Hi my name is Rebecca, (Becki)..Growing up I hated my name "Rebecca" in 8th grade some of my friends and I were talking about our names and we wanted to chage them..I changed my "y" to and "i" because I always liked to be different..It wasn't until my early adulthood that I liked my name "Rebecca" My grandmother and my aunt named me "Rebecca Ann" My parents didn't have a girl name picked out..(I had 2 older bothers) so I went a few hours before I was named...I learned to like my name because it was hand picked by 2 important woman in my life and my mother approved of it...I go by "Becki" to my friends but in Business it is "Rebecca".. I like my name now..because "Becki" can be playful and fun..and "Rebecca" can be Professional and Respected. Becky Add to My Favorite Names Traits: Becky is described as a cute, young tomboy who is earthy, quiet, and happy. Famous people with this name: book characters Becky (The Adventures of Tom Sawyer) Thatcher, Becky (Vanity Fair) Sharp 1. this is a great name every one i know with the name is very outgoing smart and as cute as can be 2. I have to agree. My best freind is named Becky and she is the most wonderful person in the world 3. I have a friend Becky. She has shoulder length dark dark brown hair. She is very shy but around people she know you can't get her to stop talking. She is funny and has the best laugh. I love the name Becky. 4. When I was a junior in high I changed the spelling to Bekkie. I love my name now. I feel like it fits me better. 5. I got creative in 7th grade. i dropped the c from my name to be set apart from all the other beckys. ive spelled it Beky to this day and love the twist of it! 6. I do not care for the name Becky , every Becky I know is mean and snobish . 7. My mother named me Beckey... when my mom recieved my birth certificate they spelled it Becky.. I have always like the strange spelling to Beckey... But I have stayed with what I know.. Becky! I think it fits me now, but I really hated it in school and high school. No one else was named Becky and I was always and forever placed in the front of lines because of my name... I think if it was my choice as to what my name would be it would be something like Sophie or something more femine. But you can't change what is done.. remember this when you are naming your baby.. The name stays with them for the rest of thier lives. Have a great day~ 8. My name is Becki. My mom said I was too small at birth to carry the name Rebecca especially because my last name was 11 letters long. I think I would have preferred Rebecca, maybe Becca for short, but I do like that she spelled it a little different. 9. My full name is Rebekah but i use Becky as a nick! I like it. I can be shy around people at first but once i get a little more comfortable i get loud and start having a lota fun and am more open and talk a lot!! Well at least that is what my friends and family tell me. 10. Becky is the name of the woman who was my husband's secretary and then had an affair with him, thus leading my marriage to divorce. And to think that if my baby had been born female I had the name Rebecca picked out. It is too common and plain a name anyway. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. 11. Name Becky reminds me Becky in Roseanne.I hate that serial so I don't like this name. 12. My name is Beckie. I am glad it is spelled without a "y". I like it when people ask me if it is short for Rebecca because it isn't, and that makes me unique! I think I fit the description because I am cute and I love being a tomboy!! I have dark brown eyes and hair. 13. One of my best friends is called Becci (she spells it differently) she is so small cute, friendly, outgoing and lovely! shes not at all stuck up or snobby shes a really nice girl. I luv her! I wouldnt pick this name myself for my child as I think its a bit plain and common, but I have no bad feeling towards it. Interesting... especially that there are lots of Rebecca Lynnes. Makes me glad I have the e on the end; thanks Dad. I also think it's interesting that the Rebecca descriptions overall fit me a bit better than the Beckys (I think), and if I were just hearing the names out of the blue I would think Rebecca is prettier... which it is... but Becky has some essence of my identity inside it that I can't let go of. I remember thinking about going by Rebecca when I went to first grade, because it was more grown up, but when push came to shove, Becky just came out of my mouth as me. Rebecca is my public, officially presented self, and Becky is... Becky carries my personality, for better and worse. If I am not called Becky by enough people in my life for long enough, I feel very lonely and unknown. Also I think Becky is a little more fun, has more of a spark, takes herself less seriously. Becky is strong in a certain way, something to do with the k, I think. I think what most people are going with as this "tomboy" aspect (certainly not me) I identify as a brand of strength. But it's interesting as well how I probably identify personally with Rebecca more than my friends identify me as such. Most of my friends would never call me Rebecca. My family, on the other hand, uses my names much more interchangably. Though my dad rarely calls me Rebecca. Just my mom and sometimes my aunts and uncles and my grandma. I often think about whether (with any luck) I will be published as Rebecca or Becky, and I think probably Rebecca, but it also seems odd that (with any luck) readers who will never meet me would only know my public name. So I'm not sure. Also, I have to say that I much prefer "captivating" as a meaning for my name than "bound." "Steadfast" is ok, but "captivating" is way sexier, and "bound" just is not appealing. I would love to hear more on this topic from those of you with nicknames... I think it provides a certain opportunity for expressing a double-consciousness of self that maybe those without nicknames... I won't say don't have, but don't experience in this way. I'm also curious on how people relate to their given and nicknames... similarly to me? Differently? Sound off if you feel like it.

Con Mind

I realized today that it's a confidence problem. Perhaps you already knew this, or have been telling me this for years, but... In several separate encounters today, I realized that I was genuinely startled when people seemed to like me or show any interest in me, and that I have a sort of basic expectation that unless I am making a concerted effort to be exciting, most people probably have at least a mildly negative impression of me.

And the other day, I realized very concretely that a lot of my anxiety about work is because I am genuinely worried about proving that I am good enough to be here.

I don't exactly know what to do about these realizations, which don't actually sound all that revelationy when I write them out. I think the revelation is that these are perceptions, not necessarily the underlying fact. Like, the underlying fact isn't that I have been boring and anti-social and unengaging in most situations here, it's just my perception of my own behavior.

The mind is a strange and often inaccurate place.

Questions from Harvard

So, before I got sick forever and ever, I made a list of questions that Harvard asked me, on just one side of a little poster posting post. I thought it would clarify why this place is both fascinating and overwhelming:

Need some wheels?
Do I like her... or just admire her?
Does God exist?
How can God allow pain?
Why is religion full of hypocrites?
What is HPV?
What is democratic socialism?
Christianity: Boring, untrue, irrelevant?
Why did Jesus die?
How and why should I pray?
Are you interested in applying your analytical, financial, and programming expertise to a challenging and rewarding career as a Quantitative Equity Analyst?

Pretend it's a survey if you want... maybe I will try to answer one of these questions at a time. I'll start with the last one. The answer to the last one is no.

I Promised... and I Stole

In a sanctioned, in fact mandated way, from Maddie. I think this is a lovely way to jump into blogging again, and also to reward whatever faithful readers remain for months of fruitless refreshing of this page. Here you are:

The first five people to respond to this post, will get some form of art, by me, about them. I make no guarantees about quality or type, but I will assure that I will give it good effort and that the art will be individual to you, so if you get a mixed CD, a dirty limerick, some sort of painting , or perhaps some origami, or anything else yours is the only one like it.
The only catch, of course; as with most memes, if you sign up, you have to put this in your own journal as well.

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Just to Be a Tease...

I had a bonafide sex dream last night.

I rarely do.

It was someone you know.

After the sex, I remember sort of "waking up" within the dream and critiquing my own performance, which I think is yet another example of the meta-dreams I am often prone to.

Anyway... time for a meeting. What else is new? ;)

Real update later, I hope! (Si, Numero Uno, y tambien mi examencito, lo que no he olvidado.)

Goodbye Todd!

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye! I'll miss you. Damn. I wish you weren't going... but I'm glad you are. I hope you enjoyed me as much as I did you, and did not think I was flaky or bizarre in a bad way. Good luck in Florida!

Happy Birthday Rachel!

:-D

Now you are 24 like me!

So glad you made it to the Earth while I was on it. :) Happy day!

Two Irritations of the Morning and an Emergency

Yes, I'm really trying to get back in the posting groove... and I will take my own survey at some point... but right now I want to share two things that I noticed this morning and mentally responded with frustration and annoyance.

Thing #1: I have come to the conclusion that there is a deadly plague or perhaps a toe-eating monster hiding in the back half of every Septa bus. Yet again this morning, about 500 people were literally squashed against the front door while, exactly at the back door, others held their positions as though defending an international border. What is the problem?? Can't you see that NO ONE ELSE CAN FIT ON THE BUS? You are literally depriving people of transportation because you won't climb two little steps, grab onto a pole, and stand there instead of two feet away. Sometimes you are depriving people of transportation because you would rather stand in a crowd than sit in a perfectly lovely seat in the back half of the bus. It is utterly, completely baffling to me that this seems to be a universal phenomenon. I actually said something today. I was like, "We have to move back more; there are people squashed against the door." And this one woman did.... all the way to the back door! Please, someone, let me in on the secret. What is back there? I've sat there. I've stood there. It seemed just fine to me. There are signs all over the bus with arrows telling people to please move back. The bus driver sometimes says, "Please move back if you can." And yet.... at the back door they stand, indifferent and intractable. I feel that this phenomenon is somehow revelatory of a basic, fundamental flaw in human nature.

Thing #2: Why would you take the time to write a song that is 100%, unadulteratedly about how there is absolutely no point in anything ever and the whole world is worthless and really we all might as well just give up now. I mean, you have to spend time on this. You have to craft it, and listen to it, and practice it, and fix things that don't work, and deal with lyrics AND music, and then you have to record it, assuming you are someone I am listening to on the radio or something, and play it again and again, and presumably you are enjoying this on some level... and what's more, you are working on it, you are creating it and shaping it and all of this stuff... but the whole point is that there is no point. I think what irks me is that you make this astonishing pattern, this music, and I don't think you can do that without caring about it... but you do it to say there is no meaning, let's all just kill ourselves. Which is not to say that I think despair should not be expressed artistically, I just... I'm not quite sure what I'm trying to say. Except there's something about most of these songs that just rings false and irritates me, instead of moving me with the plight of the musician/people in general. How does this fit in with the fact that one of the things I love about writing is that I can take the strange, ugly, painful things in my life and transmute them somehow? Or with the bizarre and disturbing story I just finished writing? I don't know. But it does seem different to me.

Wow, on an unrelated note, we just had a fire alarm, and Maria and I were the only ones who left... it had gone off once before and stopped, and people said it was a false alarm. They were probably laughing at us up here... but I'm always worried that I'll hesitate too long, and then it will be a real emergency.

Which makes me think about how we relate to emergency and normal life. There's obviously a shift, where you go from normality to definite abnormality, a shift in perception as well as action. But there also seems to be this limbo, where something has interrupted normality, but you are not ready to commit to it being an emergency and act accordingly. I guess that wouldn't be limbo, it would be purgatory. Or perhaps a pre-hell, since purgatory leads to something better... anyway. It's not comfortable, this inbetweenness. I think maybe it's less comfortable than either normality or the emergency itself, which are definite states of mind that you know how to navigate. Maybe that's arrogant, since I have not truly experienced a life and death emergency. But I've experienced what I've thought at the time were life and death emergencies. But I know it's the inbetween state that I find truly uncomfortable and scary, because I don't want to go off the deep end and totally overreact, but at the same time I am afraid that I will wait around deciding if it's real danger just long enough to prevent escape.

And how does this relate to the desire we all have for the interruption of normal life? Don't you? Do you ever have disaster fantasies, escape fantasies, what would I do if fantasies? I do. I definitely do. I always escape with my life, at least when I'm awake. Though sometimes I get to a dead end and have to go back and find another way out, and presumably the fantasy me that got stuck for ideas doesn't escape. And I also have had specific death fantasies when the whole kidnapping/decapitation spree in Iraq was at its height (please don't take that flippantly... I don't mean it that way.) Those happened because of my irrational terror of decapitation. Not that it's irrational to fear that, but it's just not a viable threat in my life, and yet it fills me with a much more visceral fear than other forms of death.

Wow, now that I'm thoroughly discomfited... why do we both fear and crave emergenies? Why do we like disaster movies and roller coasters (though, with exceptions, I don't really like either. In fact, disaster movies could go on a "things that annoy me" list)? But I have been struck, in the midst of negative emotions, fear, doubt, anger, sorrow about horrible things happening in the world, about the war, etc.... by a certain hidden seed of excitement. That "something is happening" excitement, that "I have something to fight against, to care about, to absorb my interest" excitement.

What's it all about, Alfie?

Damn, it's 11:20, and I really have not done much work. I should. But please, if you have any ideas or insights on these matters, I would like to hear them.

Time for A Game

So, today I had a conversation with someone I don't know who reads this blog, and it made me think about how many people could actually be reading this... and about blogs I read without revealing myself... etc. So, I decided to play a little game, called "make your own survey." And, if you are reading this, you are ABSOLUTELY obligated to take the survey, or forever eschew my blog. However, you are allowed to lie outrageously if you don't want to reveal something. You may not lie pettily, only outrageously. Those are all the rules.

Also, if we have not specifically spoken, thank you for reading, and welcome to my blog.

1. What is your name?

2. How old are you?

3. Do you know me from Adam?

4. How can you tell the difference between me and Adam?

5. If you could truthfully change your answer to 1, 2, or 3, which would you pick and what would you like to change it to?

6. Name three people that you love, just the first that come to mind:

7. Now three more:

8. Who didn't you list that you should have? Is there anyone you'd like to, but can't? Say something cryptic about them.

9. Name one thing that fascinates you about each of these people.

10. And something that irritates you...

11. Name three people you really dislike:

12. Anybody you'd like to name that you can't mention publicly? Say something cryptic about them.

13. Tell me something you admire about each of the dislike people. Yes, you have to. Why doesn't that override the dislike?

14. What is your favorite color? Do you know why?

15. What is something about yourself that you secretly think is pretty sexy?

16. What is something about yourself that you secretly worry is pretty repulsive?

17. What is something about me that you secretly think is pretty sexy? Or at least attractive? ;)

18. I'm not gonna ask the opposite. Instead, tell me a memory you have involving music.

19. Imagine yourself married. Do you see someone you know as your spouse, or someone imaginary? Do you like this fantasy? Does it discomfort you?

20. Tell me a story about a time when you were truly frightened.

21. What's something you wish you knew how to do, but don't?

22. What are you most likely to be famous for?

23. What do you think influences your daily life the most: your parents' financial situation or their relationship to each other?

24. Do you have a religious or spiritual outlook? Where did you get it? What about it do you think is particularly engaging?

25. Do you like to dance? When did you last dance?

26. Who is the first person you remember being sexually attracted to?

27. Describe the last person that caught your eye in a crowd (in a good way).

28. Describe the last person that caught your eye in a crowd (in a bad way).

29. How do you feel when faced with a homeless person soliciting money? What is your emotional reaction? What thoughts go through your head?

30. Are these questions difficult? What would you like to ask me in retaliation?

31. If you were going to name your child after a literary character, who would it be and why?

32. What's the last book you read? What did you think of it?

33. What is your favorite fruit?

34. Tell me a story about one of your cousins.

35. Who is a person you still wince when you think about? It can be for any reason.

36. Is there anything that is consistently irresistable to you? Can you imagine a situation in which you would not find this attractive?

37. Tell me a secret. It can be a current one, or an old one, but at some point the secretiveness of this should have mattered to you.

38. If you could erase one of your own memories, would you? Why or why not?

39. What about one of somebody else's?

40. Describe a beautiful landscape that you have seen. Or a beautiful sky.

41. Do you like eggs?

42. How many of your answers were true?