tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4589871344808343552024-03-28T02:24:01.708-04:00America Via EricaA travel log of a former over achiever who decided she'd rather be an explorer forming her own path than submit to the unfulfilling, mainstream version of success.Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-45496321522962686642011-10-20T14:37:00.000-04:002011-10-20T15:00:53.317-04:00A Cycle Comes to a Close<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Things change. A lot. Especially my view about how I should be living my life. So, America, I'm sorry, but it's time to take a break. I'm heading back to New York State - another new town, but secure, stable, and certainly not stressful. I've decided that I need to refocus, recenter, and release. And although, I have opportunities to go elsewhere, like Hawaii, I think the best place for me is my mother's house.</div>
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I can't wait to show her how I've changed since I first left my home two years ago. I've gained a lot of experience interacting with people of all kinds from different parts of America, and what I've realized is that ultimately, everywhere I go, I love, I lose, and I leave. Now, I want to start thinking about staying in a place for longer than a quarter of a year at a time.</div>
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Living under Loreon's roof taught me many things, like how to keep my integrity even if others' fails. I almost slipped up, however. I had wanted a break (a well-deserved one), since I knew I was always pursuing Loreon's passions, instead of creating my own. I stopped counting my hours, hid in my room for a while, and then realized that it was time to go. I don't want to go back to work. I want to gain new skills and become more creative.</div>
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Instead of running out unnoticed, I left on a positive note. Last night, I celebrated with the Isis Oasis crew, thanking everyone for all the blessings I've received. I created a new family here, but now it's time to create better relations with the family I came from.</div>
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When I go back, I have many things to take with me, like new knowledge about physical and mental health that I've been able to put into practice so that I can continue such a lifestyle. I've learned how to be more careful when dealing with other people and their feelings. I've also learned that I am capable of giving my time to others, but I still need to balance it with time for myself.<br />
I even received my first pair of wings, so no matter where I am, I don't have to feel restricted. I can take flight through dance. Regardless of how old I become, the child inside will always be able to come out and play!</div>
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And now I continue on my journey with my backpack, but with a new perspective. I will be looking for a place to settle, a place that suits me during all seasons, a place where I can form relationships that last. It seems I've been called to Israel, since that is where my roots are, so in January of 2012, I should be in the Middle East. I will see what that land has to offer me, and perhaps I will create a home. While at my mom's, I'll become certified to teach English as a foreign language, so I can pursue a cultural exchange with others from around the world to ultimately bring peace through understanding.</div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Incidentally, this upcoming year will also be that of the Mayan calendar's end of time prophecy. What this means, I do not know. All I know is that I am now ending one cycle in my life to begin another, and it's all very exciting! This also means that I will be discontinuing my writing in this blog. But you can surely count on me ever-evolving and enjoying the life that I am leading so that I can inspire others to do the same. I've learned, most of all, that this is a beautiful world regardless of what the system is like. It's not about the system; it's about the people therein. Much love to all.</span></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com221tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-27151873178614259042011-09-10T19:24:00.000-04:002011-09-18T21:43:33.355-04:00A Suspicion of Spirituality<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"> I call it "campus." From my new room where trees and sunlight decorate the outside of my windows, I put my backpack on and venture outside for another beautiful day at Isis Oasis, a very educational setting. I've got my laptop, wallet, phone, water, and a book of my choice. It's not that I <i>have to</i> head over to the pavilion right now, but after a morning of meditation, yoga, and dance on my porch, I'm ready to meet and greet others so that I can help accomplish something. That something is mostly in line with Loreon's ideals, since she is the owner of the property, but I'm much more fond of what she offers to the world than that by mainstream academia or previous employers. Here, I admire the person that I work for, a woman who, at age 79, is still owning and operating a business, is without debt, and has outlived three men. I see that I can learn a lot from her - both her successes and failures.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> I also enjoy the company of all the people that I work with. Most are fairly laid-back, but even those that get huffy make for a good show. Each person has something unique to offer, and it is my pleasure to be able to see and interact with the growth and change of the community because of the intermingling personalities. Everyone here is older than me, most by at least twenty years. I think it's easier to have a more introspective and meaningful existence when I'm not surrounded by my own age-group, which seems<i> </i>(to me) to be full of people looking to prove themselves and seek approval in a shallow manner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> I did have plans to live with an attractive Argentinian man in his mid-20s by this time. He's actually a big part of the reason I came out to Isis Oasis in the first place. We skyped often, and once he professed his desire for me to be his, I couldn't wait to hop on a plane and enjoy the comforts of a warm man and a cute apartment in Buenos Aires. I'd learn his tongue, although he already knew mine from studying abroad in Australia, and then perhaps, as he helped me establish an online income, we'd be able to travel together. Perfect. I still had to wait, however, for him to work out some financial matters and get the apartment, so I hopped a plane to northern California, where I'd be able to see the Redwoods before I leave the States. I knew some novelty would ease the anticipation, and a two-month workaway at a retreat center would do the trick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Well, the two months have come and passed. Within this time, Carlos and I decided not to live together. He would like to focus on himself and his work, and I should do the same before I get trapped into marriage with someone. But also within this time, a programmer from the Netherlands has contacted me, and we have been collaborating on some applications that will revolutionize education, as well as provide the location-independent income that I was seeking.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> So, it seems, things work out. Plans change, but as I go with the flow, rather than focus on expectations not being met, I find myself living a life that I'm not able to imagine before it happens. I have already known relationships with men, and I have already known city life with young people; I was able to daydream Carlos and Buenos Aires to the point where I fell out of love before I even arrived.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> But now, I was left with what felt like a predicament. "Well, what am I going to do with my life, then? I gotta go somewhere...continue on the journey that I have set for myself, yah know, traveling and stuff...that's what I made this blog for,<i> right</i>?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> What I didn't realize was that establishing oneself in a routine for more than two to three months<i> is okay</i>, and can also be very rewarding! (Go figure, huh?) I'm entirely welcomed at Isis Oasis, and Loreon is very fond of me. Everyone seems to enjoy the energy and effort that I contribute, and I enjoy it as well. It's simple, really - cooking, cleaning, and other miscellaneous things that Loreon needs help with, like buying green folders online for our <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heqet">Heqet</a>-themed <a href="http://www.isisoasis.org/html/convocation.html">Convocation</a>. Oh, and also playing with and training Magic, Loreon's baby ocelot/serval mix. I'm able to understand the complexities of owning a retreat center and animal sanctuary, and I can empathize with and calm Loreon when she is stressed out from it all, yet not get too emotionally involved since it is not my business. For a little extra cash, though, I've also been selling books online that the neighbor, Dan, finds at Salvation Army for a buck or so.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> There were a couple things, though, that bothered me about Isis Oasis. The noon ritual in the little temple everyday gave me an uninspired dogmatic feel to it all. I also see hypocrisy when there exists the vision of peace, but the consumption of products that cause war (like oil). So, I wonder, what's up with all this talk of "spirituality?" Is it helping or hurting?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> I picked up Melvin Power's <i>A Practical Guide to Self-Hypnosis</i> from one of the book shelves in the lodge. The introductory chapters commented that we actually use self-hypnosis all the time; we use the power of suggestion to convince ourselves of anything, from our public speaking abilities to the existence of God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> I've always been interested in understanding why people think the way they do. In an English class at Hudson Valley Community College, I had to do a research paper, and I was able to pick any topic I wanted. What did I choose? "Cults."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> From my research I saw that textbooks define the word cult as basically a startup religion, merely another belief system, but of smaller size. Okay, that's great, but why does it start in the first place? I came to understand that our mind is our own little cult, and when multiple minds connect and agree on ideologies, a bigger cult forms.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> I continue to be interested in the powers of the mind, which is why I love to be surrounded by environments like Isis Oasis, where some minds begin to agree on a concept which is very loosely defined in our society - spirit. I then choose to interact with these minds openly, but skeptically. I participate in rituals and ask many questions in order to gain insight as to what exactly one believes and why s/he believes it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Some will say that most are fakers, that they just go along with the show because it makes them feel good, but I hold a different stance. When someone tells me that they have used past-life regression to come to the conclusion that she was once a high priestess to the Goddess Isis in ancient Rome, I believe her, but it doesn't mean it is objectively true. It means that her mind has indeed experienced said event. However, perhaps it came about solely through the use of suggestion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> When we suggest that there is something even called "spirit," then we open up a whole new can of worms. We begin to explore spirit, without really knowing what it means.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> To clarify things in my own mind, I began to separate everything I experience and everything I've heard others experience into three categories - the working cliché of 1) mind, 2) body, and 3) spirit. When it came down to it, I couldn't find anything to put into the spirit category. When someone says that they have a "spiritual" experience, like being visited by a ghost, it sounds to me like that experience would still only be one of body or mind; the visited is experiencing this event physically with the senses of the body and mentally with the awareness of the mind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Next, I chose the operation of intuition - the sense of knowing something without reasoning. For example, when a stranger walks into a room, I may be receiving a certain "vibe" from him. Is this spiritual? Malcolm Gladwell discusses this concept in his book, <i>Blink</i>. Intuition is very real, but it is not so much of a mystery. He states that we use pattern recognition to make decisions in an instant. If you've had a lot of experience with people, you will use the prejudices you've gained in order to draw a conclusion. So again, this is only mind, maybe with a hint of bodily sensation if you react psychosomatically.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> So, where did all this talk about spirit come from? My dictionary tells me that the origin of the word is from the Latin term, "spirare," or "breathe," which then turned into "spiritus" for "breath" or "spirit." Does this mean that when we get rid of body and mind, we are breath? A pretty metaphor, but still not exactly what I'm looking for.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> After crystal bowl meditation one morning, I spoke with Aryshta, Jerome, and Kim about spirit. From their perspectives, when we use deities, we are personifying energies that can aid us, making it easier for us to connect. That led me to question whether these energies are from the mind or would exist even without mind and fall into the mysterious category of spirit.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Jerome and Kim are clairaudient mediums, and they said that when channeling, they must first quiet their minds, or at least not be distracted by their own little voices. Only then can they hear the other voices that are trying to give them information. This would make it seem that there is indeed something separate from mind, but it still needs the mind to get the message through; the mind must translate the message into a comprehensible language for the receiver.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Aryshta held a guided meditation a few weeks later. I didn't go. Sometimes it's worrisome to let others direct my mind in a vulnerable meditative state. Instead, I finished watching a movie that kept me up late the night before called <i>Holy Smoke</i>. Kate Winslet plays a young Australian woman who is hijacked by an exit counselor after living in an ashram in India and refusing to return home. I thought about how this relates to my life. It seems that I also left my biological family in search of a new family, where I can be loved. Sometimes I feel loved, but is it love? Can I even define love? I can say that it is appreciation for the work I do. Any relationship seems to come down to appreciation. How much do you appreciate this person in your life? When I was living with my family, I did not appreciate them, and I felt unappreciated because I did not contribute. But here, I use my big heart, and my work benefit others. I worry, though, what happens if I can no longer benefit others? That's when you are banished from society, and the forest eats you alive, right? But even after 79 years, I see, Loreon is benefiting others, so it looks like there's hope for me too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> Recently, I discovered a practice that uplifts my <i>spirit</i>. Loreon has gifted me wings, and now I use my body, my mind, as well as that something else deep within me. I dance, and it flows out according to the beat, the music, or maybe the silence. The dance comes in all forms. Sometimes, I am sitting, and my body rocks back and forth to give my spine a massage. Or other times, I have my wings on, and I spin around in the sun. Maybe that's the spirit coming through, within those moments where I don't know why my body decides to do what it does, or how my mind comes to think what it thinks. I have an opportunity to explore that part of me, without worrying about paying bills or meeting others' expectations. I have found an oasis, as if by chance, where I can nurture myself before my next venture. I hear the winters here are chilly and rainy, so I do have plans to leave for Israel during that time, but for now, I like giving a part of myself to this property that gives so much back to me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"> And maybe you'll see these wings fly into your part of town! I may have a home and family at Isis Oasis, but I am still doing little trips here and there, where perhaps I will practice my street performing. :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"> For more information on spirituality and science, I was recommended <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=110997741">this great NPR piece</a>. </span><br />
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Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com121tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-20491901304789399112011-07-06T17:05:00.000-04:002011-07-06T17:05:04.623-04:00Geyserville, CA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> If you look out the airplane window before arriving in San Francisco, you will see tan mountains with bushy, dark-green trees scattered throughout. I wasn't too fond of the brown feeling. Being from Upstate New York, I'm a green girl by nature, so I was hoping Geyserville would be more forest-like. Yet, when I rode the bus from San Fran up to Santa Rosa, the tan looked more like a gold, and the grass looked more like hair that the wind brushed into place. I began to gain a liken for the landscape.</span></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> When I arrived at Isis Oasis, I was immediately impressed, especially because the birds would give me the "you look good" whistle. They perked up their feathers to attract me and said, "hello!" and "hi!"<br />
Melissa, one of the priestesses, introduced me to</span></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aVB8VBkVmFg/ThTLy0Pb8pI/AAAAAAAAAEs/GPnG37DqtUg/s1600/lodge_11_8662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aVB8VBkVmFg/ThTLy0Pb8pI/AAAAAAAAAEs/GPnG37DqtUg/s320/lodge_11_8662.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;">my room in the lodge. The theme is for Goddess Wadjet, the sovereign cobra Goddess of magic, so the snakeskin design and earthy greens and greys are prevalent. I have a queen size bed with a canopy, which makes it feel even more royal.<br />
I feel just like a guest, except that I'll be living here for two months rather than two days, and I commit myself to at least twenty hours of work per week, which will mostly include being front of house at the restaurant, Mummy's Kitchen, which is open on the weekends and serves Egyptian and Asian cuisine - mmm.</span></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Outside the lodge is the pool and spa, which is wonderful for the hot days and then the cool nights. It's not humid out here and when the sun is gone, I actually need a sweatshirt and socks.</span></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> The property can be walked in about fifteen minutes. It includes multiple animal </span><span style="font-size: small;">sanctuaries, housing </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U7XIVbJHGWk/ThTMB8DGQ9I/AAAAAAAAAEw/uotFmRiX2ug/s1600/oselot02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U7XIVbJHGWk/ThTMB8DGQ9I/AAAAAAAAAEw/uotFmRiX2ug/s320/oselot02.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">endangered felines, </span><span style="font-size: small;">like ocelots, and exotic birds, like colorful pheasants and peacocks. Also on the grounds is a vivarium with reptiles, like bearded dragons, and insects, such as hissing cockroaches and walking sticks. If I walk further, I find the community garden with lots of veggies, and all throughout the property are plum trees. I cook in the restaurant kitchen, located in the pavilion building. Inside the dining room are board games, tea, books, a piano, and lounge furniture.</span></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> There is a small temple that is always open for meditation and prayer and a larger temple, which serves as a theater open for special events. This center was originally ceremonial grounds for the Pomo Indians, then became a Bahai school. Loreon then bought it to create an Egyptian-style bed and breakfast. The temple of <a href="http://temple.isisoasis.org/worship.html">Isis</a> became a legally recognized church in 1996, but the spiritual side of it has only recently been replenished by the arrival of Reverend Aryshta six weeks ago. There isn't a set dogma, but instead a kind of freedom and independence in thought stemming from the ancient wisdom of Egypt. There is also a 600 year old fir tree that many can hang around in order to gain a bit of wisdom as well.</span></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> There have been a few coincidences here. I was thinking about taking some aerial ribbon dancing classes near San Fran this summer, but Melissa told me she knows an instructor in Sonoma that may be able to do a workshop here. Also, I was very happy to meet Liz, a yogi. Before I left Jersey, I took five yoga classes and decided I'd create my own routine to continue. It's good to have someone around that knows her stuff so I can perfect my technique. Plus, the piano in the pavilion has an instruction booklet. I took a couple lessons in Jersey but had no piano. Now I can spend some more time with it. </span></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I shadowed Liz, who does a lot of the housekeeping, so I saw the Nesu house, a building that big groups can rent out. Outside of the kitchen, I saw a clay structure. I thought it was a sweat lodge; it turns out to be a pizza oven. I love seeing all these things that are not of the norm, especially the decor. Everything is colorful, and one can find anything from stained glass to palm trees to animal prints.</span></div><div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Isis Oasis begins the main road of shops and restaurants. Geyserville is a small tourist town in Sonoma's wine country, so the storefronts only stretch what would be two blocks in Jersey. I can walk to the end and find Dan and Liz's home; they keep chickens and sell free range eggs. Other than that, there are two delis (one on each end), a vintage shop (with bicycles!), a feed/farm supply store, a couple wineries, a fancy pizzeria, a coffee shop, and a hair salon. The buildings have that old west feel with a little bit of adobe. Zahir told me there is a river about a mile away and the closest state park is a bike or car ride. In front of Isis is a bus stop, which I wasn't expecting since we aren't in a city, but it turns out that Sonoma County has public transportation (win!).</span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Overall, I've been having a lovely time relaxing, meeting the staff (about a dozen people), and helping out in various ways. This looks like another great vacation on my lifelong vacation. Leaving Jersey was a bit sad, since I met so many wonderful people, but the last week was full of celebration, and even when I arrived here, there was a </span><a href="http://isisoasis.org/docs/learn/july4th.htm" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">fourth of July</a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> barbeque and fireworks to kick-start the new.</span></span></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com67tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-14888996403666433492011-06-14T23:44:00.005-04:002011-06-15T09:46:45.841-04:00Time for the Taking<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I just got a new battery for my watch today, yet the only time I need to look at my watch is to get ready for work and count the minutes until work is over. Otherwise, I don't care much for the numbers that set boundaries throughout the day. It's tyranny, according to <a href="http://www.spunk.org/texts/writers/woodcock/sp001734.html">Mr. Woodcock</a>.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> After Eliott sent me that article, I was inspired to read <i><a href="http://mrhoovler.com/Documents/Repent%20Harlequin.pdf">"Repent Harlequin!" Said the Ticktockman</a> </i>by Harlan Ellison. The first time I was introduced to this short story was in my English class at Hudson Valley Community College, but I didn't read it; I merely showed up for the class discussion to get my A. It turns out to actually be a very fun read! Kudos to Carlos for letting me read it to him via Skype - nothing better than onomatopoeia and made-up words animated out loud.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Now I find myself measuring the time until I leave for Buenos Aires. Originally, the time would be approximately half a year, but sooner and sooner it became. I am now much too anxious. I'm ready to begin a new routine and stop watching the time so much. I've begun to seek opportunities where I am no longer a slave to the clock. I will work when I want to, so progress can be measured by completed projects rather than an hourly wage.<br />
Time is my most valuable asset. And the most important thing that I've realized is that it's here, now, for the taking. I can spend it however I wish. Oftentimes, many spend their time in ways to ensure they continue to have time, even if that means they must make sacrifices, by spending the time in a way that they normally wouldn't have, like getting a college degree, to ensure a steady job with good pay that will keep them well-fed, sheltered, and healthy (although one can and will argue that this isn't the case nowadays).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I think an important lesson can be learned through "The Parable of the Mexican Fisher and the Investment Banker," which my older brother kindly shared with me today. It goes something like this:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">An American investment banker was taking a much-needed vacation in a small, coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. The boat had several large, <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">fresh fish in it.<br />
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The investment banker was impressed by the quality of the fish and asked the Mexican how long it took to catch them. The Mexican replied, "Only a little while."<br />
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The banker then asked, "Why don't you stay out longer and catch more fish?<br />
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The Mexican fisherman replied, "I have enough to support my family's immediate needs."<br />
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The American then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"<br />
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The Mexican fisherman replied, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos; I have a full and busy life, señor."<br />
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The investment banker scoffed, "I am an Ivy League MBA, and I could help you. You could spend more time fishing and with the proceeds buy a bigger boat, and with the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats until eventually<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> you would have a whole fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to the middleman, you could sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You could control the product, processing and distribution."<br />
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Then he added, "Of course, you would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City where you would run your growing enterprise."<br />
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The Mexican fisherman asked, "But señor, how long will this all take?"<br />
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To which the American replied, "15-20 years."<br />
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"But what then?" asked the Mexican.<br />
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The American laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You could make millions."<br />
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"Millions, señor? Then what?"<br />
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To which the investment banker replied, "Then you would retire. You could move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> This, señor(a), is why I walk to work. So much hustle and bustle around me as people drive their cars all over in order to keep to their tight schedules, in order to achieve more than their families' immediate needs. But not me. I, señor(a), take my time. I literally stop to smell the roses and, sometimes, pick them for my friends. I then make enough money to enjoy a minimalist lifestyle, full of novelty and love. A cliché, but one I have much belief in - <i>the best things in life are free</i>.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> I prefer to enjoy the time I have now. Planning is necessary in order to continue the delight, but I don't let it stress me out too much; it's not my main focus. I've come to understand how little I can have and still be happy, as well as the notion that anything can happen to end my time. I've come to terms with death. It will happen, and I have no idea when. Therefore, it makes more sense (to me) to labor a little here and there to enjoy the fruits regularly, rather than work wearily from seed to factory farm, to then, at the end, rest and enjoy the little time left in my life.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> I once had a professor tell me that most waste their youth, but surely not me. I have the health, the energy, and the lust for life NOW and I can't waste another minute *trying* to make something that's already wonderful somehow better. I have sorrow for those always looking for something more or, worse, those who do not understand the reasoning behind why they continue to sustain themselves.</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I hope this inspires you to lay in the grass and watch the clouds pass by tomorrow.</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-51334324491144419392011-06-02T17:31:00.004-04:002011-06-14T23:52:59.226-04:00Philadelphia, PA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I thought, "Golley gee...Memorial Day Weekend is coming up, and I don't have to work. Thank you, Civil War soldiers! So...where should I go?"</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I met John in New Hampshire at a Young Americans for Liberty campaigning event. He lives in Philadelphia and told me to visit anytime. It also turns out that Philly is only a $10, 2-hour bus ride from New York City. "Perfect," I thought.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Once John found out I was coming, he called his liberty-minded and organizational activity planner friend to set up a little get together between me and all the other Philadelphia tread-free folk. Needless to say, I was excited to meet a bunch of new people.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I got there just in time to grab a taxi and speed to the venue. I ended up in a creative space of Northern Liberties, mostly used for film screenings and as an acting/yoga studio. Murals decorated the walls, and old comfy couches filled the rooms.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I mingled with various characters and then sat down to do a question and answer session for about an hour. I didn't have anything pre-planned because of such short notice and since I hate speaking from some sort of phony objective standpoint. However, I did read a quote from Frédéric Bastiat's </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">What Is Seen and What Is Not Seen</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">:</span></span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"I confess that I am one of those who think that the choice, the impulse, should come from below, not from above, from the citizens, not from the legislator; and the contrary doctrine seems to me to lead to the annihilation of liberty and of human dignity.</span></span></span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But, by an inference as false as it is unjust, do you know what the economists are now accused of? When we oppose subsidies, we are charged with opposing the very thing that it was proposed to subsidize and of being the enemies of all kinds of activity, because we want these activities to be voluntary and to seek their proper reward in themselves. Thus, if we ask that the state not intervene, by taxation, in religious matters, we are atheists. If we ask that the state not intervene, by taxation, in education, then we hate enlightenment. If we say that the state should not give, by taxation, an artificial value to land or to some branch of industry, then we are the enemies of property and of labor. If we think that the state should not subsidize artists, we are barbarians who judge the arts useless.</span></span></span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I protest with all my power against these inferences. Far from entertaining the absurd thought of abolishing religion, education, property, labor, and the arts when we ask the state to protect the free development of all these types of human activity without keeping them on the payroll at one another's expense, we believe, on the contrary, that all these vital forces of society should develop harmoniously under the influence of liberty and that none of them should become, as we see has happened today, a source of trouble, abuses, tyranny, and disorder.</span></span></span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our adversaries believe that an activity that is neither subsidized nor regulated is abolished. We believe the contrary. Their faith is in the legislator, not in mankind. Ours is in mankind, not in the legislator."</span></span></span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> After the session, John, I, and two new friends, Stacy and Chad, went out for tea. Stacy had read my blog and noticed I've started working with essential oils, so she gifted me lavender and peppermint. (Later in the weekend the lavender fell out of my bag and broke on the ground, but I looked on the bright side by saying that the bus stop would now smell good for a few days.) I learned more about Stacy. She is a college student, concerned about all the debt that she has amassed and wondering what to do with her life after graduation. I feel bad for her, especially after watching the new documentary entitled </span></span><i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VpZtX32sKVE"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><b>College Conspiracy</b></span></span></a></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">, now out on YouTube.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We met up with a few others and went out for vegetarian Chinese food at New Harmony. We ordered plenty of food, all of which was heaven. Sure, the duck didn't taste like duck...but it was better! I was also surrounded by good conversation, entertaining ideas of how to act in a society that limits freedoms. I was introduced to a new form of currency called "</span></span><a href="http://www.bitcoin.org/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><b>bitcoin</b></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">," which I'm currently still researching.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The next day, Chad brought us out for some urban exploring. We hiked throughout the old Philadelphia Electric Company, which has been used as a movie studio multiple times since its abandonment. Although technically illegal, these are the kinds of things that make life lively.</span></span><br />
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</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RFkshPYuvZs/Tefx9gSKmQI/AAAAAAAAADs/5lBqu6_m_EU/s1600/IMGP0569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RFkshPYuvZs/Tefx9gSKmQI/AAAAAAAAADs/5lBqu6_m_EU/s200/IMGP0569.JPG" width="150" /></span></span></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8kgWfzbulLg/TefxlCgCtjI/AAAAAAAAADo/2B7bv4Pm17w/s1600/IMGP0564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8kgWfzbulLg/TefxlCgCtjI/AAAAAAAAADo/2B7bv4Pm17w/s200/IMGP0564.JPG" width="150" /></span></span></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I0-QYCDKAko/TefxHitOMnI/AAAAAAAAADk/NcXbV0VET1Y/s1600/IMGP0552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I0-QYCDKAko/TefxHitOMnI/AAAAAAAAADk/NcXbV0VET1Y/s200/IMGP0552.JPG" width="150" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8IsjbB8mto/TefzF7CEi0I/AAAAAAAAAD0/J-NE9_5jeAo/s1600/IMGP0580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8IsjbB8mto/TefzF7CEi0I/AAAAAAAAAD0/J-NE9_5jeAo/s640/IMGP0580.JPG" width="640" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Here, I also met Vince, who, when I pondered climbing up a tower and asked if it was worth death, replied, "Of course it's worth death. I'd much rather die doing this than die sitting in an office, or die crossing the street." I was very glad that he reminded me of that and then went to enjoy the top of the tower.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> It disappoints me, though, that no photograph could ever capture the beauty that I saw. On the rooftop, I found what looked like rust on broken windows, but when I touched it, gold glitter covered my finger. Later in the adventure, in the control room where old scattered papers lie, I found one with marker on it reading "shadowsand rust." I think that's a good layman's term for whatever chemical compound I just got on my hand.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We sat and looked across the river as a storm came in from Jersey. I guess it isn't </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">always</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> sunny in Philadelphia. But without the rain, there are no rainbows. So after it passed, we went out for ice cream, with a </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ixcaita_fyc"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><b>rainbow</b></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> in the sky.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Then, we headed to South Street for some drinks and organic burgers. I'm happy to see how prevalent the organic/vegan scene is in Philadelphia.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> On Sunday, John brought me to see the area where our founding father conspired. Ironically, Independence Hall is surrounded by big banks, the Federal Reserve, and the US Mint. Wait a minute...I don't think this is what Jefferson had in mind...Regardless, I enjoyed the sun and watching all the tourists buy into the commercialization of history.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Later, we visited Rittenhouse Square, one of the nicer parks in Philadelphia, where one can find people doing the lindy hop, singing songs, or playing with children. I sat down to discover Ron Paul's version of liberty.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ohfbHdPw-q4/Tef5MabAAuI/AAAAAAAAAD4/1mz_kSshsmw/s1600/IMGP0589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ohfbHdPw-q4/Tef5MabAAuI/AAAAAAAAAD4/1mz_kSshsmw/s640/IMGP0589.JPG" width="640" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Arthur and Becky (who I met at the speaking gig) happened to be in the park as well, so we met up. Arthur, who does past life regression, gave me a preview as to how it works. I'm always looking for opportunities to have an OBE, but unfortunately, this just turned out to be an exercise in imagination. It then turned into a conversation about my lucid dreaming and the recent lucid dream about my grandfather. He is currently in a nursing home, dealing with cancer, so Arthur also introduced me to remote reiki. I was planning on seeing him today and see if he's had any dreams lately, but I stayed up too late to have the energy to make it out to Queens. How funny that it's only about ten miles away, but takes me three hours to get there.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Arthur also showed me a website he created called the Electronic Fortune Cookie. Arthur has inputed 6,000 random words into a system, and when asked a question, it will spit back a few of those words which can be interpreted as an answer. For example, I accidentally didn't type in any question, but got back "GENTLE LETTING SUPPRESS." I think that actually describes part of personality quite well. Instead of fighting, I decide to accept circumstances and make the best of it. Then, I typed in "When will the dollar collapse?" and got back, "THE WAY OF EFFICIENT POINT NOSTALGIC." What could it mean? Well, anything really. I'm still trying to figure it out. John typed in "Am I free to dance?" after the arrest episode at Jefferson Memorial (see </span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jUU3yCy3uI"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><b>here</b></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">) and got back "HOW TIMES OF RESTRICTION INSURE ALTOGETHER." I really liked that one. So, is technology capable of a supreme intelligence beyond human capability? If you think so, click </span></span><a href="http://askefc.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><b>here</b></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Monday, I decided to explore bits of the city by myself. I was intrigued by all the murals Philadelphia has to offer, so I began a free walking tour of the Mural Mile, where I could use my cellphone to call the Mural Arts service with free automated information about each mural. It was a blazingly hot day, so I cooled off at Franklin Square, shaded by trees, and surrounded by laughing children. Later, I met up with Bernard (an actor who was in charge of the film screening on a different floor at the venue Friday night, but also wanted to meet me). We checked out Fairmount, the newly renovated area by the Art Museum and Schuykill River, went out for iced drinks and fresh food, then headed back to the studio at Northern Liberties to cool off and talk life.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> When I went to catch my bus back home, I was excited to get a famed roast pork sandwich at DiNic's that I had seen on Man vs Food only days earlier. Unfortunately, thanks to our Civil War soldiers, they were closed.</span></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-2090200886397882522011-05-10T23:36:00.003-04:002011-12-13T11:30:28.015-05:00Birthday Bicycling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I made a little list of a few things I wanted to buy, such as essential oils and empty containers to start making my own homemade products, like bug spray and deodorant. I couldn't think of where to get the containers but Wal-Mart, so I took a bike ride out to North Bergen. It was a beautiful day and a lovely ride until I got to the road where Wal-Mart lay. What else should I have expected but a beaten-up, under construction, 55mph mini-highway? I stopped at the graveyard first to have a couple brownies that would give my day a little extra gaiety. Then, I popped into Wal-Mart, mozied around a bit, and popped out, with supplies still remaining on my list.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I didn't know where I'd find these items, but since I had checked out the area with Google Maps prior, I headed up the hill to Hudson County Park and assumed I'd pass some shops. I noticed Easy Street coming up on my right. I didn't have a definite path, so I asked myself, "Do I take the easy street?" Once I looked down that street, I saw a "DEAD END" sign, as well as lots of other signs that read things like, "$1,000 FINE," "CLEAN UP AFTER YOUR DOG," and "NO PARKING." It made me chuckle since the street was only long enough for four houses. I couldn't believe such a short road had so many rules. Looking uphill, I saw broken-up pavement in the right lane and a graveyard at the top. With only one no parking sign, it looked like one would not be as easily guided by society's rules on this path. This giant metaphor, appearing as a palpable experience, made me realize that no matter which road I choose to take, both end up in death; however, the truly rewarding one is the one in which you can see that you've accomplished something at the end. I certainly did feel good about making it up that steep hill.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Hudson County Park was a wonderful bike ride. Plenty of green and people-watching smooshed in between the tightly-packed towns of Jersey. I ended up in Guttenberg at the end of the park toward the Hudson River, which was coincidental since my father had recently told me about his midtown Manhattan view when he lived in Guttenberg. Now, I was able to see that view too.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> On my way back to Palisades Park, I explored the streets of Fairview and Cliffside Park. I stopped into a small health store and picked up the rest of supplies. I was a bit shocked by the expense of the bill, but that inspired me to ask the storeowner if he would consider buying a line of natural products off of me. He told me he'd be happy to, so I'm currently playing with business ideas in my head to stir in some extra cash.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I stopped into a couple Korean-owned shops so I could practice my expressions and learn new words. One establishment was the Bergen Spa, where I met 순니 (Sunny). I bought a spa day for Eliott since I knew he needed/wanted one. He was going to give me a birthday gift later in the day, so I wanted to get him something as well (I wasn't around for his birthday in February).</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> In Fairview, I was getting a lot of attention. It's a largely Hispanic town and the curves of my body tend to attract men in that category. Sometimes, I get annoyed by whistles, beeps, and the casual "Hey mami" with elevator eyes, but on this day, I was feeling so good that I was soaking in the compliments like it was sunshine. At a red light, one man opened his bus door and yelled some words in Spanish to me that I didn't understand, but of course knew what he was implying. I replied, "No comprendo!" so he then began to tell me how nice my figure was in English. He pulled out his phone and tried to get my number. I was so happy to be able to use the Argentinean phrase that mi amigo, Carlos, taught me the night before during our skype call. "Segi remando!" I yelled back with a flirty smile and walked away.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I couldn't have asked for more joy in my day. That night, I had the friends over that I've become closest with in these past two months. I felt so much love and positivity in my room as we all talked, drank, and sang the night away. I can hardly believe it. I'm one lucky duck.</span></span></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-25264217596944576552011-05-06T00:21:00.000-04:002011-05-06T00:21:28.582-04:00Palisades Park, NJ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I moved. I was informed that I couldn't be around while El's dad goes through treatment. I took the news lightly at first since I know have many living options at my disposal, but slowly I realized how much I loved the situation I was in and how much it would suck to be away from El and the comfort of Leonia. Fortunately, although in mid-freak-out, I found out that Bobby's mom was renting out a room. Now, I have my own space, a lot of light from a few big windows, and three cats to get to know. El fell in love with Mambo, so he decided he'd take care of her. Lucky for me. Now I won't have to deal with any chaos from the felines. I stop by to visit and I'll take her back when I leave the area, but for now I'm living only a town away. "Pal Park," I like to call it.<br />
About three blocks down is Broad Avenue. The Koreans own that strip. Hair salons, restaurants, ooh, and karaoke bars. A little nightlife in my backyard. It's bigger than Leonia, so I'll have more opportunity to converse in Korean. I've been taking lessons online, and now I have a textbook in the mail. Autodidactic learning rocks.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I got my hair cut. Bobby told me that I should get a white girl fro. I loved the idea, but realized I'd need to get rid of the dreads and grow my hair out a bit for a perm. So, I made sure to enjoy and appreciate my hair until 4/20. Then, I had Bobby hack it all off. Of course, now my hair was all different lengths, so I went down to Broad Ave and stopped into the first salon I saw (there are many to choose from). They wanted forty bucks to even out my hair. I said I'd go to the ATM, but really I meant I'd go check out the deal down the street. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The next salon I walked </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">into was empty, but a middle-aged Korean woman who spoke little </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">English assured me they were</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bZTsa4wEed0/TcNzLsVqPxI/AAAAAAAAADc/fiQcKs3ULz8/s1600/haircut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bZTsa4wEed0/TcNzLsVqPxI/AAAAAAAAADc/fiQcKs3ULz8/s200/haircut.jpg" width="150" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">open. She said she'd do my hair for twenty-five. She thought she finished, but there was a section of my hair that was shorter than the rest. I tried to tell her I needed it all the same length She then made me question myself. "Very, very short," she said with a concerned look on her face. I told her to go for it. At the end of the whole ordeal, I was pleased. It felt good to start fresh. I haven't had short hair since I was a baby, so I'm happy these dread gave me a reason to try it out. I handed the woman forty bucks since I was so satisfied. She was very grateful, and I left with an "Annyeonghi gyeseo!" This literally translated to "stay in peace" and is the common goodbye when one is leaving somewhere.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I got a job. All I have to do is walk up the hill to the Italian neighborhood to start my shift at Hanky's Pizzeria and Deli as the counter gal/waitress. Charlie's the boss. His son, Charlie, is boss too. Lou has been there since they renovated the place three years ago, when Charlie took over the business. Hanky was Charlie's grandfather. He started Hanky's circa 1900. It was like a 7/11 for those days. The family is huge. I'm always meeting new cousins or brothers/sisters-in-law. Aunt Loretta lives upstairs and comes down to help every now and then. She's such a sweetheart and tells me fun stories from the past. There are some old fellas that live and have lived in the neighborhood all their lives who come in and talk about how things used to be. Old photos of the family decorate the walls. One depicts a wedding at the Catholic church across the street. I think about how perfect this job is. I don't have to work for a huge corporation. I get to work at a small place with great people. Even before coming down here, I had imagined that I'd work at a pizzeria. Serving is my thing. I like tip jobs and I like people. I learn tips along the way about making great food and, as a plus, I get to take some of that great food home at the end of the night. I was talking to Ollie the other day about this job. He told me about his friends coming out of college now that are like, "What, I can't make 60 tho with my college degree, and, instead, I'm getting a job that I could've gotten out of high school?! Shit." According to this </span><a href="http://www.zerohedge.com/article/student-loan-debt-hell-21-statistics-will-make-you-think-twice-about-going-college?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+zerohedge%2Ffeed+%28zero+hedge+-+on+a+long+enough+timeline%2C+the+survival+rate+for+everyone+drops+to+zero%29"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">article</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, "[i]n the United States today, 317,000 waiters and waitresses have college degrees." It looks like I can be just like them except without the average of $25,000 in student loan debt. Among the statistics was also "[a]ccording to very extensive research detailed in a new book entitled </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Academically Adrift: Limited Learning on College Campuses</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, 45 percent of U.S. college students exhibit 'no significant gains in learning after two years in college." Of course we all learn everyday, but it looks like any type of measurable academic progress was absent. Even at this new job, I try to learn as much as possible about being the best server I can. I suppose some might find it bizarre, but traveling waitress might just become my career path. It's flexible, lucrative (enough for me), and work that I can be proud of. I basically get paid to make people smile. What could be better? I envisioned finding a passion that I can make money off of, but I think the simplicity and cheer found in this line of work is good enough for me.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> So, here I am, going day in and day out with a "normal" American life. I'm not doing anything extraordinary. I'm existing like an average nineteen-year-old, but with a twist. I move around a lot. If I don't save up enough money before winter, I think I'll head down to Boca Raton to stay with my aunt. I'll find a new server position during Florida's busy season and get to know a new place. Yeah, sure, it's the land of the retired, but if I'm aiming for wisdom, I guess the elderly are the people to talk to. I don't know much about the ethnic diversity of the area, but perhaps I can practice my Spanish at the good ol' Rat's Mouth.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My mind likes to daydream about all of the other places I could be right now. I could stick my thumb out on the side of the road and head west...or south...or northeast. Anywhere. I could be impulsive with my savings and head overseas. But, no. Here is good. Summertime in the city is something I've dreamed of since I was little. I'll experience what the big apple has to offer and then be on my way. I remember looking at colleges and becoming frustrated that they all seemed the same. The only difference that I cared about was location. I wanted to be in the big city, but I'm realizing that college wasn't my only shot at living there, and certainly four years time was more than wanted.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I go upstate every now and then. I visited my dad to grab some things, including my bicycle. It makes not having a car so much more enjoyable. Walking is nice. One can smell the roses during a walk, but if I need a quick commute, my bike does the job. I also picked up some more clothes. I decided a new look was in order for this new hairstyle. It's always fun to change personas. "Erica Goldson" is a blank slate. My dorm hall may know me as a hippie, but Pal Park will see something new.</span></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com138tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-64823820865076604042011-04-09T22:28:00.003-04:002011-04-09T22:35:37.042-04:00From Feast to Fast<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I baked some delicious chocolate chip cookies. They were so good that I ate too many. Whoops. I was a bit disgusted with myself. I'm never hungry. I just always have an appetite. I love food. This contrasts with Eliott, who only eats because he has to in order to survive.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> El and I went to the library. I walked around, looking at all the people, but then a book popped out at me. It was called "HUNGER: An Unnatural History." I picked it off the shelf and sat down. The first half of the book was about what it's like to fast for various amounts of time. I had been thinking about fasting, and this was my motivation. I decided that my last meal would be in Chinatown the next day.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Walking back, El and I parted as he went to Dunkin to meet up with some friends. Not even two minutes passed and Akiva, a guy I met a few weeks ago, yelled my name. What a wonderful surprise. I had been thinking about him. He only lives a couple streets away, but we had never gotten each other's contact information.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> He told me he was going to pick up Chinese food and asked me to join him. What a coincidence. I couldn't believe it, but, lucky for me, it was real. So, I had a delicious night as well as some fun conversation.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Akiva drove me home. El had bought some tabouli and pita from the nearby Mediterranean cafe. I wanted to start my fast at midnight since I already had the Chinese feast, so I tried some tabouli really quick, and El put together some ice cream and chocolate soy milk for me too. I was satiated.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> El wanted to know why I was going to fast. I planned for seven days, and he was frightened that he was watching someone become anorexic right before his eyes. I assured him that wasn't the case, but instead it was a way to test myself and see if I could have a clearer mind if the idea of food was no longer popping up all the time. I had become slightly disgusted by my gluttony and needed to set things straight.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The next day, I tried distracting myself with my computer and also had two interviews for day cares in the area, one being Montessori. My physical body felt fine without food - probably because it was still digesting everything from the night before. After the last interview, I walked around Englewood a bit to check out the various restaurants for waitressing positions. Food was everywhere. My brain wanted the stimulus, but I wouldn't allow it.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> On day two, I headed to my gynecologist appointment. When the nurse took my blood, it was a good thing my stomach was empty because she could then also test for my carb, protein, and iron levels too. On the way back home, I stopped at my new friend, Cedrick's, apartment. He had commented on my hair as we were both walking down the sidewalk the day before. He's from Congo, so me being big into the internationals, we exchanged numbers. His original language is French, so I hope to practice around him. Interestingly enough, he lives right at the end of my street. He had a delicious lunch cooking, but I just tried to ignore the torment going on in my brain once again and filled out the application he brought me from the nursing home he works at. In the afternoon, I started feeling the physical implications of the fast. My stomach was gurgling, and when El and I went for a walk, my legs felt weak. Later on into the night, my stomach felt discomfort and I was fatigued. El's old friend, Sam, came over. He told me he did a ten day fast. He had done a lot of research beforehand, so he had eaten lots of fruits the days prior and drank juice during the fast. That inspired me to do a little more research too.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Today was day three. My aunt had called me yesterday to tell me that she was visiting my grandfather at his nursing home in Queens. I decided that I'd make the 2 hour+ journey out there to see her, my grandmother, and gramps. I knew I needed energy to make the trip so I bought some juice. I also knew that there would be plenty of food from my family that I would have to refuse. It was true. I almost gave in. The bagel was certainly tempting. Cedrick called me after I left the nursing home and asked to hang out on Tuesday. My aunt said I should visit the Botanical Gardens at this time of year, so we decided that we will head to Brooklyn. Cedrick also invited me for some African food in Manhattan for dinner, but I had to refuse, since I wasn't letting myself eat until Thursday.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I thought more and more about this whole fasting thing. What was I really trying to accomplish? Would not eating really make thoughts of food go away? It seems like I was just being sadistic to myself and clogging my head with desire even more. In fact, my stomach is grumbling as I type this. So, why shouldn't I enjoy the pleasures of life - one of those being food? (COMMENTS WELCOME) I'm not overweight, and I'm in good health. I suppose what I was really doing was punishing myself for eating all those cookies. I know I can go the full seven days, but I've decided that three is enough. I will enjoy myself on Tuesday. And I will enjoy myself at midnight with some dumplings. I've also decided that I'm going to start eating vegan again, not completely strict, but enough where I feel healthy and merciful toward animals again.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> It's great to live and not starve, to have so many options around, but these things can be the downfall of us if we do not keep in check what exactly we are contaminating our bodies with and especially how much. I think these three days have been rewarding. I have been able to contemplate food in a whole new way and understand how lucky I am to have food in the fridge downstairs. I guess I do feel like a quitter, since I <i>did</i> set the goal for seven days, but so be it.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> If anyone has experience fasting and has discovered more from it than I have, then by all means, comment below. I'm interested in the spiritual aspect of a fast. Perhaps, in the future, I will try another fast, for this reason. And perhaps, the thoughts of food wouldn't run through my mind after a longer period of time. Perhaps, I'd just get used to it.</span></span></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-61956407532842078652011-03-31T15:28:00.002-04:002011-04-09T21:34:28.301-04:00Leonia, NJ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I like it here. I'm not used to suburbs for miles, but this is a unique place. 52% of Leonia and the neighboring town, Palisades Park, is Korean. I'm right next to a cemetery and just down the road is a strip of restaurants and shops. I can walk to Hannam, the Korean grocery store chain, yet they don't carry all of those silly American basics like peanut butter. I'm also only a walk away from a park on the Hudson and the George Washington Bridge to get into NYC.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The house is really comfortable. I get to stay upstairs in the man cave with Eliott and Maxwell where writing finds itself all over the walls, and the downstairs is mostly for the folks, Miles and Marisa, so it has that family feel along with a clean kitchen. The upstairs living room is a dark royal blue and houses a magenta couch. Mambo runs around on the carpet, nibbling at areas where something may have spilled in the past.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Max has been looking for a job too. He picked up a gig flyering houses for a couple weeks, so I go along some days (17 cents a flyer!). It's quite relaxing going for daily strolls in new towns around Jersey. I get to see everything from the Mont Clair mansions to the sketchy areas of Bloomfield. Sure, I may be pestering people with nonsense advertisements and wasting resources since they will only throw them away, but it's been sunny lately, so I just try to look on the bright side.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I met Kenneth through Facebook, and he lives in Morris County. Over the weekend he brought me on a couple hikes. Silly me was unaware that parts of New Jersey have mountains and resemble upstate New York. That's what happens when the television shows Jersey Shore, Real Housewives of New Jersey, and Jerseylicious inform viewers about a state. Incidentally, Kenneth does pools and fireplaces and lives near the town of the housewives. He took me on a tour to see mansions much bigger than those of Mont Claire. I was aghast.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I've decided to bake. I picked up some supplies at Hannam and learned about the oven the hard way. I burnt the bottoms of my first batch of cookies. Live and learn. I made my favorite blueberry muffins from my mom's recipe. Not the same. I'll have to add something extra.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I like that I will be here for a while. I get to learn new social dynamics that mirror other situations, but now I have lots of time to navigate them. I like that I can start anew - a new town and new people that judge me mostly on who I am at the present, rather than any stories or experiences from the past.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I'm looking for a server position, or perhaps I'll go out on a limb and get a job in the education industry. There are some jobs on craigslist for assistants at nursery schools. I do get a kick out of being around toddlers. Maybe the senior center down the road needs extra help. The elderly are always fun too. Whatever it is, I've realized waking up to an alarm is detrimental to my dreaming. No 9-5 for me.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> While I was staying at Acorn Community last summer, I was exposed to people who practice polyamory and a workshop discussing the whole situation. It seems so formal when I say that, but it is actually a very informal notion - the basic idea of having multiple romantic relationships, either juxtaposed or mixed. It's as simple as enjoying the company around you rather than focusing one's mind on only one person, even when he or she is not around. I thought, well, it sounds great, but not for me. I'm a one man kind of gal. Good thing things change. Now I'm basically in an open relationship - that's if I want to put a label on it. All that nasty jealousy stuff that normally happens in relationships is *poof* gone. I can be my fun, flirty self, without worry, and still come home to a bed and person to snuggle with. Or maybe I'll snuggle with someone else. Or maybe all together. Or maybe I'll sleep on the couch with only Mambo to keep me company because someone I'm not attracted to is taking my place in bed. That does sound a little dreary, but it's not like I wouldn't normally sleep alone. I've done it plenty of times, so what makes a few nights any different? Or maybe if I get lonely, I can see if Max wants to have a slumber party. It's all about enjoying people in the best way, with love.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Ollie is a character. He does guitar and drums. He said he can teach me. He also has an adorable daughter named Chloe. He's got that loud, in-charge thing going on. He smiles a lot, which makes me smile. He can sing. I can sing. It's a fun situation. Miles and him have some bad blood, so he can't hang here, but he's a walk away, through the graveyard.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Bobby's cool. He talks to Mambo like she's a baby. I'm glad most people enjoy Mambo's company. He also plays guitar. He comes over every once in a while for some good philosophical conversations. I get to listen and maybe chime in every once in a while with my usual, "Wait, this doesn't matter and is all metaphor anyways." Then El reassures me that it's all just for fun.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Alex is lovely. She's originally from California and studying at culinary school over here. She works with El at the book store, and we get together every now and then. I like being surrounded by all these kind people.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> El held his first philosterbation last week. Massaging the mind with language. We went to a small venue, and with about ten other people, flirted with culture, beliefs, identity, etc. Finally we got tired of talking and tried some remote viewing. I still have to practice.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Pig roast this weekend. El's gonna DJ with some j-pop. Dance for Japan. Surf the tsunami. Get nuclear wasted.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I'm 18. I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts. Sometimes, that little voice inside my head talks about productivity and asks if I'm reflecting that. But who says I have to? I am surviving. I have great people around me. I'm discovering new things everyday. El says my presence is calming. For now, that will be my contribution to society. Lazy for not going to college? Whatever you want to call it, it feels good.</span></span></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-79156987529908579012011-03-21T19:19:00.001-04:002011-03-21T19:19:53.537-04:00Tennessee to Jersey<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The universe kept reminding me that plans can easily unravel. Expectations, desires, and criteria are bound to lead to unfavorable circumstances if one's mind is too focused on the outcome. However, since I like to look at what fills the glass, it was a good thing that Leonia was out of the way for Jeff and Kelly. Instead, I was dropped off in Albany to chill with my dad and lil' bro for a couple days before heading to Eliott's.</span></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I thought the drive through Pennsylvania would be dull, but since we were heading through the mountains, I was able look down at all of the cute villages that decorated the hills. There were icy ponds and snow lining the roads, so I became a little disappointed that I was traveling back to winter – real winter. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Finally, it was time to say my goodbyes to the Halldorsons. I had officially been with them for two months, and it was certainly a worthwhile experience. I then said hello to my dad, and he brought me out for a nice dinner with my brother. Afterwards, I ran into Petsmart and bought Mambo a carrying case for use instead of her bulky cage.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Coming back to the house I lived in as a child was comforting. I realized it was nice to be able to relax and reorganize before I headed to a new home. I had accumulated too much stuff and needed to downsize. I walked up and down the stairs to the basement until I finally had it just right.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I felt bad that I couldn't allow my cat to sleep on the futon with me because I knew she'd just try to scratch Mambo out of her case all night. The second night, Mambo chewed her way out of the netting covering the doorways. I had expected that, but luckily I was treating my friend Megan to Five Guys, and Lowe's was right around the corner. At first, I tried a technique with steel wire, but realized it would bend too easily and take too long, so I bought chicken wire to cut and sew into the case. Worked like a charm.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> My dad was heading down to New Paltz since he has some clients in that area, so I hitched a ride with him to see my friend Liz at SUNY. While she was in class, I went on a hike with her boyfriend, John, who I also knew from high school. The snow wasn't irking me as much, since the contrast between it and the brown of the forest was appealing. John and I talked about his decision to join the National Guard. I don't like to see young men (and women) lured into military service by high paychecks, but it happens. Eventually, he will probably be sent overseas (funny how they “national” turns “international), and all I can hope is that he survives combat. I'd also hope that no one would have to die, but of course the war is being run by a profit-hungry elite that couldn't care less.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> On a lighter note, after the hike, we met back up with Liz and her roommate to go out for pizza. Nothing like a savory meal and a seat when a stomach and pair of legs are crying. We did some window shopping and headed back to campus. That night, Liz and I smoked up, hung out with Mambo, and watched Wedding Crashers. My favorite part was when Vince Vaughn confessed his love for the crazy chick. How heart-warming to see her win him over with her odd personality.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> At midnight, John and I noticed that it was sleeting. Kelly had told me March meant “in with the lion, out with the lamb,” so I thought it was neat that exactly halfway through the month, it was half-lion, half-lamb.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The next morning, I left to have breakfast with a friend I met in Buffalo who was on break. It was a delicious meal and a fun time catching up with him. He's into neuroscience and psychology, and although he's looking to get a PhD, he doesn't like the character of the field. I spilled everything I've read about shamanism to further open his eyes to the limited scope of the western viewpoint.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> It was time to catch my bus to Port Authority. When I arrived, I couldn't find the cheap buses that run across the GW Bridge, the ones I took day in and out when with Cydney. I would ask the employees, but they didn't know what I was talking about, and told me to use NJ Transit, which would go through the Lincoln Tunnel. I bought a ticket to Edgewater, and stared stressfully out the window the whole time to try and figure out where I was and where I would get off. I recognized Main Street and felt relieved.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Walking along the sidewalk, I saw many crossing guards. I thought how that might not be a bad gig. I could stand along the road in a bright yellow jacket and help children cross the road for money? Cool. A Korean man (Leonia is 52% Korean) wanted to know what was in my case. He didn't speak a lick of English, so Mambo helped me teach him the word “sleeping.” I continued on my way. It had been rainy earlier that day, but now it was sunny. I had to shed some layers. I felt bad that I was bringing nice weather because I know how much El likes rain. But of course, I was enjoying the sun. The lamb was definitely waking up.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I arrived at his house. I was a little nervous and excited as well. Max (his brother) answered the door, didn't recognize me at first, but then with an introduction invited me in. I called up El, left him a voicemail to tell him to come home, and he rushed back as soon as he heard. While waiting, I took a nap on my favorite couch in the world and was awoken by a soft touch. So wonderful to be back.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> So, for the past few days I've been enjoying myself in the arms of a loved one, exploring the area, and meeting friends and friends of friends. I've talked to El's dad, Miles, about his spirituality and how it correlates to his Christian ideology. I've enjoyed family dinners, getting to know Marisa (Miles's wife) who's from Minnesota, incidentally, and lucky for me, they all like me enough to allow me to live with them until I get my van. It's a really lovely situation – a laid back family, a cozy house, and a romantic, yet open, relationship.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I'll start wandering the roads looking for a job. I want a flow of income for now, so I can pay my way here, but I'll also be working on a book proposal. Watch out! Erica Goldson is about to be published.</span></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-20271546458751813612011-03-13T12:05:00.000-04:002011-03-13T12:05:22.752-04:00Texas to Tennessee<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I headed back to Austin after the conference. Jeff is working on a house in a wealthy suburb, so the scenery gets bland.</span></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We took a trip to Fiesta, a Hispanic grocery chain with American foodstuffs as well. I was practicing my Spanish again by trying to name things and defining the lyrics in the songs I was hearing. It makes me want to visit Latin America all the more.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The next day, staring at the clear, blue sky, I noticed bright dots of light bouncing back and forth and bursting from one another. It made me think, am I seeing the very essence of this space, possibly elementary particles? Luckily, after contacting a friend about it, I was directed to a link which explained that it is actually a phenomenon </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">in</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> the eye. </span></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_field_entoptic_phenomenon"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Click <b>here</b> to check it out</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">It also allowed me to understand the “floaters” that I notice every now and then. Perhaps you have to. They sometimes appear as transparent bubbles or strings that move along with the movement of your eye.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-TptZuxYTwVs/TXznN8Y-R9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/DxwMhwFcaH0/s1600/IMGP0253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-TptZuxYTwVs/TXznN8Y-R9I/AAAAAAAAADQ/DxwMhwFcaH0/s320/IMGP0253.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I decided to take a walk with Mambo. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">What a lovely day that would be wasted staying stagnant. I used the GPS to locate a body of water nearby. I saw that there were two ponds a half hour away, so I walked through suburbia to the end where a country road appeared, where I could picture a traveler sticking his thumb out. I walked through the tall grass toward one pond, and it turned out there was a dirt path that went along the water. It had been created by tire tracks. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Once I got on the path, I saw an orange cat walking along it in front of me. I gave my best meow to have it notice me with the intention that I could befriend it, but it became scared and ran away. There were plenty of ducks in the ponds, as well as turtles, lots of turtles, hanging out on the shore. When the heard me, they all headed into the water, so all I would only see their heads above the water.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Further along the path, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I was eventually brought to the paved path of the golf course that entangled the gated community. I'm not a golfer, but it's nice to see the culture with the colored polos and all. At one point, I saw a man, in his early </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">20s, that was playing catch with his pup. It then ran up to me with its tennis ball. It pleased my ego to think that perhaps the guy had a trick up his sleeve to send his dog over to ladies, but of course only an idea. I gave it a pet and threw the ball for it, then asked the man in which </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">direction I could find the creek. I headed down that way and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">saw a shallow end of it. I looked in a different direction and saw some vehicle tracks into a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">grassy area with piles of sticks and logs.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">figured that was where the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">workers would </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">bring all the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“rubbish” from the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">golf course. The grass </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">was tall and fluffy, so I</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-5Kg9hGeEmeM/TXzhEhouWPI/AAAAAAAAADM/4IpbQmxh_sk/s1600/IMGP0279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-5Kg9hGeEmeM/TXzhEhouWPI/AAAAAAAAADM/4IpbQmxh_sk/s400/IMGP0279.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">looked for a nice place to rest. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Finally, there was a spot that called my name. I laid down and allowed Mambo to move freely. I figured she'd like the natural habitat where she might've been without Petco. Or perhaps she wouldn't have even existed without Petco. Regardless, she enjoyed the exploration. I wasn't afraid of her running away because I knew that if she did, it was her choice to freedom. But I learned that she liked me because she stuck around. Maybe she only likes me because I feed her, but I don't mind whatever reason it is. I started hearing birds and the wind was picking up, so I assumed that signaled movement. I climbed up the hill into a more forest-like area and then ended up on the paved path once again. I passed over the creek again and sat down to stick my feet in. Mambo climbed down my shirt and became comfy in my bosom as she kept her face sticking out of my cleavage. It was a cute sight.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I walked more and knew I no longer had my sense of direction since the path winded. I knew I eventually had to get back to the big bridge/road that passes over the creek at some point, but I no longer knew which way that was. Oh well. Luckily, I knew Kelly was a phone call away with the GPS no more than twenty feet away.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> One foot in front of the other, I had a feeling I was going in the wrong direction, but there were cliffs on my left with cacti growing right out of the rock, so I didn't mind walking more for the scenic views. Eventually, I needed to stop because I smelled dog poo. Had I stepped in something? I walked to the side of the golf course next to the creek to make it seem like I was just taking a break to ponder the poetry of life, but really I was trying to figure out where this smell was coming from. Not the shoes. Not the shirt. Mambo? Nope, she just smelled like rat. But the smell was so potent. I felt around my neck. Yuck! How the heck did poo get on my necklace and chin? Mambo! I tried wiping it off discretely and then along came an old man on his golf cart.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Are you enjoying the beauty of nature?” he said.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Oh yeah...this creek is beautiful...hey, do you know where I can find River Plantation Rd?”</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> He told me it was a ways, about a mile, and like I thought, in the other direction. He offered me a ride, but I didn't feel like making the stops at the holes, so I thanked him and headed backwards. There was drinking water along the way to wash my necklace, neck, and hands off with, and by the time I was done, the man was back. He must've finished up the last hole. We talked again, and this time I took the ride. I thought it can't be so bad to watch some golf, and it'd be nice to give and have some company. So, I properly introduced myself, and as a Southern gentleman, he took off his hat as he introduced himself also.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “Phil Shaw. Nice to meet you.”</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I watched him play, but he was embarrassed that he wasn't doing well.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “I'm much better than this, but I'm not used to having pretty, young ladies watch me.”</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> How sweet. It's nice to be charmed, knowing that there weren't any ulterior motives.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Phil told me about his granddaughters and even great granddaughters, the old dam that used to exist on the creek, and the Boy Scouts that built a dock for swimming around it. We also talked about the flora around the course and how beautiful it is when it's in bloom. I love the warmth down here, but without leaves on a lot of the trees, it leaves an empty spot in my heart.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Phil drove me to the road and walked me on a shortcut through the lawn of his famous magician friend. It seemed Phil knew everyone. He had been living there for 33 years. We said goodbye, his hat off again. We shook hands, but it turned into a firm, caring grasp and him commenting that I was a lovely young woman. I thanked him for his kindness and we parted.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Back at the bus, guacamole and chips were served. We've been having a lot of that lately, and I love it. Kelly's a good cook.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I've become very interested in the link between shamanism and autism. In certain cultures, a shaman is one who has gone through some sort of neuropsychological “disorder,” like schizophrenia or autism. It makes sense because the social aspect of life distracts from the other potentials of the mind. I was introduced to WrongPlanet.net, where I began to read forums about shamanism and the other worlds created in the minds of autistics. That, then, introduced me to </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The Horse Boy, </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">a beautiful documentary about the journey a western couple takes to Mongolia with their autistic son in order to meet shamans for a healing process. Since Kelly noticed I was interested in this, she rented </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Temple Grandin</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, a film depicting Temple Grandin's life. Temple is currently a spokesperson for the autistic community and has also developed humane systems of animal slaughter. (However, Kelly disagrees that it is humane to slaughter in the first place.) I highly recommend both movies. I am always intrigued to see different perspectives, and it excites me to see others doing the same.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Xoey often uses the word “crazy.” At first, she would use it in an insulting fashion when I did something she didn't like. This really disturbed me, but I learned to ignore it, and then to take pride in the term. When she walked into the bus toward the end of </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Temple Grandin</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> and saw Temple acting in a strange fashion, she asked, “Is she crazy?” (It seemed to me that she was using this term in a derogatory manner again.) I replied, “She's </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">autistic</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.” At the end of the movie, Xoey was able to see the interesting features of high-functioning autism, so I asked her, “Do you still think she's crazy?” She said, “Well, yeah, she is crazy, but it doesn't have to be a bad thing.” I was silent, but satisfied. I'm glad to hear that she recognizes that.</span></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I find a comforting beauty in “weirdness.” I'm glad that it seems I'm getting weirder everyday. Who wants to be normal when there's so much more to explore than these socially-shared hallucinations? I'm not one for comfort, safety, and the mundane. I like newness and things that rustle up my feathers. Thanks world for becoming more and more tolerant of diversity! I hope it continues because I'm not just tolerant; I'm in love.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> We went to the LBJ Museum today. I never knew much about him or his presidency. I was surprised to find out that he seemed a bit dopey. There were exhibits specifically about his sense of humor, but I didn't get it, probably because I couldn't stick around long enough to hear the punchline. He just talked too slow for me.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I learned plenty about Lady Bird and how much she liked wildflowers, so much so that she wanted to beautify our highways with taxpayer dollars. What a cause.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My favorite floor was the one devoted to the time period – the 60s. My dad grew up in that era. He was 13 when Kennedy was shot. The only time I almost saw him cry was when he talked about that event. Along this floor were also the pictures and video exhibits devoted to the civil rights movement. I don't know about you, but when I see Martin Luther King Jr., I get inspired. I watched a video about the missile crisis in Cuba on a television from the 60s, so it was fun to feel like I traveled back in time.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> That reminds me. I've been doing a lot of reading about time. I want to understand it for what it really is. It's just another perception, another illusion in this game, but is there a way we can understand it through physics, or will I only truly understand it once I experience the absence of it, or perhaps and altered state of it? Allegedly, there is technology exists that can slow time down or speed it up for an observer, other than the technology of the mind.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/FJ6nqA0jWjw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> After two weeks of work, the unschool bus has finally left Onion Creek. I had some good times exploring the few wooded areas around the creek, laying my head in the grass, staring at the birds flying and playing in the sky, but I'm surely ready to head out.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I saw a jackrabbit for the first time. It hopped along a lawn, and although I had never seen such an animal before, the word “jackrabbit” popped in my head. Then, I whipped out my computer to check on Google images if I was right, and what do yah know, I aced that test.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> We stopped at a truck stop for bed. I had a phone call to make, so I headed over to the pond and trees that was outside of the lot. I become so giddy talking to Eliott. I told him how it's not even fair how awesome my life is right now. All I had to do was say how I really felt, and the world's arms wrapped around me.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Eliott doesn't know this, but I should be arriving at his house in a few days. He knows I'm going to surprise him, but just not when, and it's very, very hard for me not to just yell out on the phone, “I'm going to see you at the end of the week!” when we're all gushy, regurgitating puppy dog loveliness.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> See, this leg of the trip for the unschool bus is almost over. The Halldorsons are heading back to New Hampshire for a couple of months to do some work and see friends, and I'm getting dropped off in Jersey. I've decided that I'm not going to come back on the bus. I want to get a job, save up, and buy my own van for travel. I'm not sure where I'll do that yet, but I do imagine having a wonderful time at Eliott's and asking him to come see the world with me (I hope he's not reading this!). Of course, nothing is set in stone, but this is what my mind tends to fantasize about.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> In the morning, we headed to Dallas. I've had my headphones plugged into my ears listening to Pretty Lights albums, while staring out at the road. I had a lot of sightseeing as Jeff was trying to find a toy store. It looks like Dallas means business, literally. All the buildings seem to be devoted to the lifestyle that comes along with a suit. We only stuck around for about an hour and got back on the road.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I fell asleep before we even stopped. When I woke up in the morning, it turned out that we were at a welcome center in Oklahoma. That morning would be the famous Rhett + Link's arrival. They are YouTube stars that are going around the country with the “Box of America,” asking for gifts from everyone who wants to meet them, then sticking them in the box in order to have a drawing for a winner at the end of the trip. They are filming the whole adventure and heading to LA to possibly start a TV show. Wolfgang is a big fan of theirs, so we figured we'd take a slight detour to see them. We got them a small replica of our bus, and Kelly painted it to look almost exactly the same. When they saw our bus, they were excited to come in for a tour.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> After they left, we had cake for breakfast. It had been Jeff and Kelly's anniversary only days ago, and luckily they found a vegan carrot cake in Whole Foods. Yummy!</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Later on, we stopped at an Antique Center/Native American Museum. So much stuff! There were a sick pair of old roller skates, but unfortunately just a wee bit too small for me. I also checked out the jewelry and knives. I happened to leave my knife at the tree I was sitting under at the Dallas truck stop; it must've fell out of my pocket when I had been laying down on my side. I'll have to find a good replacement.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Afternoon into night, there was a huge rainstorm, with lightning too! Nothing could make a long drive more exciting. I haven't experienced such a storm in a while. Coming from Buffalo down to Louisiana, I went directly from snow to shine, so I'm glad it can be mixed up a bit on my travels back northeast. Of course, I have more rain come Spring.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What's the best way to wake up in the morning? Going to the bathroom in a truck stop in the middle-of-nowhere Missouri. Why? Because it has songs from the 50s blasting on the speakers in the ladies room! When I heard, “Let the Little Girl Dance,” I just couldn't refuse. That's definitely going on my iTunes. During this restroom excursion I also thought to myself, “No matter how dirty the toilets are, there always seems to be at least one (usually the last one you find) that's completely acceptable for use.”</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> However, later that morning, driving through Kentucky, we got a bit unlucky. I happened to be on the phone with my dad talking about when I'd be back in the northeast when the bus blew up! Okay, it didn't blow up. I probably wouldn't be writing this if it had, but underneath the hood started smoking. I chuckled a bit because, although I had been so excited, my estimated time of arrival had been changed. We pulled over and Jeff ran outside to lift the hood. He called Good Sam's to rectify the problem. He had been told, when he originally purchased the policy, that Good Sam's would not only take care of the tow but also the transportation of the family and pets to the shop where the bus would be brought as well as any hotel fee incurred during the mechanical work. However, it seemed like he had been duped. They would take care of the tow, but that's it. We all spent some time brainstorming ideas so we wouldn't have to pay an insanely expensive cab fare or hitchhike. We didn't have an official solution and the tow man arrived. Lucky for us, he had room in his truck that fit us all perfectly! Good leads to bad, but bad leads to good. Kelly and I were excited for the ride since we had never been in a tow before. Our unfortunate event led to fortune, plus, if I calculated correctly, the bus saved twenty bucks in gas. I really enjoy looking on the bright side of things.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Since then, I've been having a lot of access to the internet. Both in the shop and at the hotel, I've had free wifi, plus the hotel provides a complementary breakfast. With my connection to the web, I've been answering Facebook and email messages and also doing a lot of research into law. I just watched a video called, Theft By Deception, which is on Google video for free, so I do recommend it if you are concerned about tax law. Through understanding the law and all of the definitions provided in it, it turns out it is not lawful to tax most domestic income. I also have been interested in operating a vehicle without a license. I had it suspended less than a year ago (by choice) and once I get my van, I don't think I will register my vehicle or try to get back my license. It's all a contract that I don't want to sign, and as long as I don't hurt anyone, it is lawful to drive without signing that contract. And even if I did present my case to a judge who didn't understand common law vs. commerce law and then I ended up in jail, I wouldn't mind. I think it would be beneficial for me to be in an environment where most stimulation is deprived so that I can start having wake-induced lucid dreams and/or out of body experiences.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> So...much...driving. I listened to some podcasts along the way until my computer died (Gnostic Media and Peace Revolution). I have some books, but I really didn't feel like whipping them out. Finally the sun came out, so the drive to and from Knoxville was extraordinarily beautiful. There's just been so much rain in this week that fields were flooded all over, the sky consisted only of gray clouds, and the cold only became colder. Now, the terrain is shining gold and the sky is blue with just a few puffs of white cloud every now and then. The Great Smoky Mountains are shaped much differently than other mountains I have seen. Now, I'll be in Jersey soon, and my mind keeps thinking too much about the new chapter that is about to unfold.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Surprise again! It turns out Eliott's is out of the way of the Halldorson's way up to New Hampshire. They want to avoid expensive tolls and Connecticut altogether. It looks like I'll actually be going to my dad's instead, and after the weekend, perhaps, finally, I'll be getting down to Jersey. It's a good thing I have this time, though, so I can unload some stuff to lighten my pack, get Mambo a carrying case instead of using her cage, and see old friends and family again.</span></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-7734913891315721002011-02-26T12:01:00.004-05:002011-03-06T12:22:10.210-05:00Duluth, MN<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The plane ride over was like most other plane rides. However, my plane was delayed 4 hours, so I ended up getting two free meals and a $100 voucher for my next flight. Thanks, Delta!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> While waiting for and on the plane, I wasn't in the mood to continue on with Lee Smolin's </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Trouble with Physics</span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">, so I just practiced my meditation. Time seems to go by pretty fast that way, and I snoozed a little. Of course, I had to wake up for orange juice and pretzels, though. Yah know, a lot of other planes are giving up on the snack and only giving out free beverages nowadays. Again, Delta rocks.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Upon hearing the bing go off signaling that the plane was landing soon, I opened my eyes. Wow! A sunbow! I've never seen a sunbow before. I don't think the word even exists for such a sight, so I just combined sun with rainbow. It was a stream of light that curved along the horizon of the clouds, shooting out from the sun. I had to rub my eyes a bit before I believed it was actually, actually there. I could've taken a picture, but I knew the camera would never be able to capture the beauty I was seeing, especially through a plane window, so I decided to keep being mesmorized. The sun was setting, so the background sky had that pretty orange, pink, purple thing going on. The clouds were all fluffy beneath us, like ocean waves, or a cotton ball bed. I felt bad that sometimes I had to stick my face right up to the window and block the view of the guy sitting next to me, but I had to get the full effect. It was definitely the best plane landing I've had in my life so far. The plane kept teasing me by almost dipping through the clouds but then leveling out. Finally, we dove. It was a little shaky, but coming out of the clouds, I was introduced to a winter wonderland. We were over a residential area of Minneapolis, where there had just been a snowstorm. What a contrast after seeing the sun because the clouds blocked out all light. It was now dark. The roads were paved, but the pointed roofs and lawns were still covered in snow, and the street and car lights added a magical affect. I'd say it definitely reminded me of a Christmas storybook illustration.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Oh, Duluth! I love this city. My mom once said, if a place is pretty on an ugly day, it's a good sign. So although the sky was grey and dirty snow covered the ground, I still saw beauty. Lake Superior was frozen over, with chunks of snow as decoration. It gave it a crunchy, stagnant, white wave look. Walking into Amazing Grace Cafe this morning, I was invited by music, two guitars, a saxophone, and a melodic voice. I sat down to enjoy a delicious omelet, staring at the people, learning more about Minnesota. I enjoy the accent very much, to the point where, already, my o's get that jingle.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> After breakfast, I used my free aquarium pass from MAAP. I do like animals, but I wasn't expecting anything exciting. But walking in, I noticed that this aquarium was different than the others I've been to. Immediately, I saw a giant opaque glass wall with water falling down over the different symbols for water, from Chinese to alchemy. The aquarium not only had fish, but information about Minnesota's environment, people, and recreational activities. Also, although I do hate to see caged birds, I talked to a bald eagle and danced with a parrot. I guess my communication with the eagle was more like a whistle, but it was definitely intrigued. It would turn its head around 180 degrees, perk up its feathers, and spread its wings. Then when it tried to talk back, I learned how to speak eagle, instead of the sparrow song. The parrot, on the other hand, was more interested in bobbing its head and moving from side to side, so I went along with it. If these birds have to be cooped up all day, at least I can give them somewhat entertaining company for a bit.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I explored more of the little city. It was nice to know how small downtown is. It's quaint, and then there are forests right up the hill, and hiking trails right down the lake. I'd love to come back in the summer. I'm seriously considering picking up a job here and maybe some cheap rent during tourist season.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> At the conference, I was a bit nervous about speaking because I didn't know my audience that well. After sitting in on the session before me, I quickly understood the mindset. “Standardization sucks, but we still want our kids to learn readin', writin', and 'rithmatic.” My session revolved around Paulo Freire's ideas of dialogue, praxis, and critical consciousness, so it was easy to intertwine the notion that no matter what we think is good for students to learn, maybe they don't think it is. My idea was to introduce Freire's ideas, then my own about student-directed learning, and then to encourage dialogue and demonstrate exactly how people learn the best, through determining what they value and asking questions based on that value. Instead of standing up there being an authoritarian-like teacher depositing information into the heads of these individuals like bank accounts, I acted as a resource with a specific perspective, and they were able to direct the conversation with questions, and I had questions for them as well. I received criticism, which pleased me so much! I saw before my eyes people not agreeing with me, still stuck in the mindset that success is determined by them rather than the individual that is supposed to be learning, so I tried to help them understand that I see that mindset as flawed, and if we want our children to be fulfilled, then we need to let them figure out what will make them fulfilled. I felt very good at the end of the session because I was able to address their concerns and show them where the ideas of value, fulfillment, and success really come from. It doesn't come from people acting </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">on</span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> one another, but </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">with</span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> each other. It was a group of people that care about children, and oftentimes when we care about someone, we try to make them like ourselves, but is putting a child in a narrow box really the way to go? Shouldn't we be letting them explore and create for themselves? Aren't we just being traditionalists, no matter how radical we may think our views are, if we are forcing students to learn a specific body of knowledge? Why can't children's minds be as dynamic as time? We are constantly in a state of change, so let those growing in the present determine what they need for the present. Schools are becoming obsolete when we consider how much open source material there is online. I enjoy Khan Academy, but educatingearth.tumblr.com compiles many different open source education websites.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Luckily, my keynote speech was received well. If you're interested, here's the video courtesy of Aaron Grimm.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/66YQ_tc9_ao/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/66YQ_tc9_ao&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/66YQ_tc9_ao&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Also, I have been playing with the idea of adding a “Donate” button to this blog. I thought it would be silly for someone else to fund my life for me because I've grown into the notion of personal responsibility and independence. However, after my speech, people shared with me the value of my experience. If I take time out of my day to share my journey with others, it's like I'm writing a book, and if they find worth in that and/or want to continue to read about it, then they may be inclined to donate money, or maybe even a useful object to help me. I would like to start traveling on my own or with another person, so I will not be fed or sheltered by the Halldorsons any longer. I certainly can pick up odd jobs here and there or play ukulele on sidewalks, but those might become boring things to read about. So, if you would like to donate anything, I would be more than grateful and use whatever funding to create memorable experiences to share with you and others throughout the world.</span></span></div></span></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-394360877920679852011-02-23T23:54:00.017-05:002011-02-26T18:19:10.820-05:00Austin, TX<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I'm sitting here in a mansion-like home in a gated community in a suburb of Austin, TX. That's my physical setting, at least. Yet, I'm also sitting here contemplating what else I'm sitting in, non-physically. I'm a miniscule part of an immense digital consciousness that I have very little understanding of. I'm sitting in an ego. To borrow words from another sentient being, Erica Goldson 'is like the coat an invisible person wears so that s/he can interact with other people without freaking them out.' Although I haven't directly experienced the no-self, I understand that it's there. Have I deduced myself down to it logically? I guess. Honestly, I don't know how it all makes sense to me, but it does. Usually it has to come from experience, the swimming into the depths, the stepping out of one's costume, but I'm just going to accept that I'm lucky to have been able to understand it all without getting burned. And eventually, I might have that flash of consciousness some people talk about, but I'm really not worried about it.</span></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Again, I must suggest reading Thomas Campbell's <i>My Big TOE</i>. I'm pretty excited to start experiencing paranormal phenomena via meditation. It might not come quickly, heck, it might not come at all, but if I survive the length of time the average human lives, then I've got plenty of time to practice.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Referring back to my physical setting, I am here with a very nice family. I made a bracelet with Kandy's beads and jewelry supplies. She sells her creations, so I had access to a lot of professional pieces rather than my usual hemp twine and random beads. I also went swimming in a pool and basked in a hot tub that have lights that change colors at night. Groovy. The first two days here were beautiful, in the 70s and sunny, but overnight, it changed drastically, in a way I didn't think possible. I woke up to hail in the early morning, went back to sleep, and then stepped outside the bus into 17 degree weather and then into the heated house as quickly as possible. So, for the last two days I've been sitting inside with ears and eyes connected to my laptop. I've noticed how loud it can get with so many children around, and therefore I'm also practicing tuning noises out. The kids have all been having fun playing with Mambo, hopefully keeping her entertained.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We've been kicked out, though – not by the family we're staying with, but by the neighbors. Apparently, Lakeway has rules against mobile homes being parked anywhere but the police station. So, we will be finding a new place to sleep. No more easy access to Wifi, but I'm fine to move on. I'll get to see more than just the little boxes on the hillside. When I took a walk the other day, I did manage to find a serene spot of zen trees but the rest of the view consisted of suburbia.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I don't know why toddler boys tend to have crushes on me. Jeremiah is the youngest of the Wright family (the ones we're staying with in Lakeway), and every time I look at him, he gives me the cutest flirty smile I've seen. Nana K asked him if he thinks I'm pretty, and he smiled with a nod. Maybe it's my dreads in pigtails or my smile that I throw back at him. I try my best to interact with little kids telepathically. I like that they are still developing their mindset about the world and don't have a strong hold on language yet.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Jackie doesn't have a complete hold on language either. I was looking forward to meeting her when I heard that she's autistic. She's 14 and is the only one of the family that goes to school. She likes to listen to music and ask a lot of questions. She really enjoys my web cam because of all the special effects that distort image. However, it seems like her autism also leads her to have temper-tantrums and frustration. Sometimes, she has difficulty understanding sarcasm and humor. I was hoping to understand a different view of reality through her, but I think that she has been trained to interact in our socially-constructed reality quite well.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Hey, so guess what? I just found out that I'm enlightened. I just finished reading <i>Spiritual Enlightenment: The Damnedest Thing</i>, so I'd recommend it, except I realize it came to me quite randomly, and I think that anyone who is ready to/needs to read it will end up reading it. And it's not even the book that enlightened me. No book can do that. It's just that it let me know that I can now define myself in this way. It's basically a book that sums up enlightenment for what it really is. There's so many people that seek it, yet it's right there. The New-Age industry tries to dress it up like something it's not, which ultimately fools everyone and just causes more disappointment. So, it's just really cool that I've been seeking the wisdom I wanted and got it. Thanks universe, awesome present. Next stop: Love.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> So, back to the unschooled life of Erica Goldson. That's what you're all here for, right? A little entertainment? A way to live vicariously through me (my ego's experience)? Well, you got it!</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We are now back in the gated community that we were kicked out of. It's Super Bowl Sunday, so maybe the Mormon neighbors will be using this day of rest to not complain about us.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We stayed in an RV Park last night, pulled down the awesome TV that Keith gave us from the straps holding it up on the ceiling of the bus and threw Despicable Me in the DVD player. Great movie. Hilarious and heart-warming. Yeah, I wanted to cry a little. I think children's movies are just getting better and better the older I get. My favorite, though, is Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> In other news, I've been an innocent bystander to the family feuding of the Halldorsons. By no means should this discredit them because coming from a family, I understand that families fight, but this seat is so much better. Other than the few times that I'm asked to take sides, I enjoy watching all that goes down. It's like a TV show but better. C'est la vie!</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We ended up doing some work at a caretaker home. Sana and Will started a house where five people now live that need extra assistance. I was exciting to hear about Nathan, who had been diagnosed with Asperger's as a child and is really interested in physics, space, and aliens. So, of course I had to hear his thoughts. He read me his essay about how he theorizes spaceships works. Most of it flew over my head, but he was kind enough to take the time to explain parts of it to me.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Sana and Will also have three kids, Elijah, 13, Elium, 11, and Ana, 3. It was actually Ana's birthday when we arrived, so as I was sitting at the table on my laptop, kids started strolling in with presents and cake. Maybe it wasn't a surprise party for her, but I certainly wasn't expecting such a happy event to appear right in front of me when I woke up that morning. Also, she had recently gotten a puppy for her birthday, so he was trailing around all excited and what not.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> There was also an extra bedroom that I ended up sleeping in that night. It was nice to have that space to myself. I appreciated it so much more after sleeping on a bench in someone else's living room for the past three weeks or so. Also, Mambo really enjoyed exploring that area and not sleeping in the cold. Poor thing had to go through 20 degree nights without a blanket.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> In the morning, donuts and fruits decorated the table. Sana and Will had been feeding us well. They treated us like part of the group. Totally made the home our home too.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Back at the Wrights', I began to eavesdrop on a conversation between Kelly and another unschooling mom, Pippa. They were talking about feminism and the flaws thereof. It reminded me of the Intro to Feminist Theory class that I audited last semester. Funny how I can learn what I learned at UB just by talking to them, or even just listening, rather than trying to memorize the classifications of what they were talking about for a midterm.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Because of this, I decided to stop sticking my face in my laptop and have some human interaction. We then got on the subject of technology and the information system that is now becoming to have a life of its own. If you're interested, here's a great piece:</span></span><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I had a wicked cool dream last night. Lucid, too. I've been wanting to get back to lucid dreaming, but I've learned it's not really something you can “try” to do.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> First let me start off by saying that yesterday (not in the dream) I was emptying my trash on my computer. I had put a binaural beat track in there that I didn't think I would use since I got the Hemi-Sync Gateway Experience. It was a half-hour piece I had downloaded a while back when I first got into lucid dreaming called "To Dreams Unsettled." But it was a little creepy sounding so I was scared to use it. So anyways, when I tried to empty my trash, a notification box appeared saying "Trash cannot empty 'To Dreams Unsettled.mp3' because it is in use." I was confused at first because my iTunes wasn't even open. I had put it in the trash a few days ago. But I didn't question it. I knew at that moment I had to use it.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> So, I went to sleep last night with my headphones on playing that track on repeat. I really wasn't tired. My mind was everywhere, thinking in so many directions, so finally after maybe an hour and a half to two hours I finally got to sleep. Oh, but before I went to sleep I created for myself a clear intent, what I wanted to achieve in my lucid dream. I finally worded it right by saying to myself, "I want to EXPERIENCE truth." I don't remember much before the lucidity of my dream, so I assume the binaural beat helped me get right into it.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> It was dark and some long piece of wood with a sharp point was poking into my hand. It was almost piercing it, but turned out to be just a dent. I realized I was dreaming and thought to myself where I should set up the scene of my dream so I could start practicing flying or what not. I thought of the beach at Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, but when I tried to swipe that scene in, I just ended up in what seemed to be a dark living room. Nothing really in it except maybe a fireplace in front of me and a carpet below me. Then, I was like, “Hmm, okay, the beach isn't working. I guess I'll think of Hippie Hill instead (another part of Golden Gate Park).” I just really wanted a positive, non-threatening scenario. So, I was sitting in this meditation-like position envisioning it, and then I moved a bit, and all of a sudden my feet were being pulled by an invisible force toward the wall in front of me. I looked to my left and my older brother was sitting there on the computer. I thought he might see me and notice my panic, but he didn't, just kept staring at the screen. Then, I was pulled again. This time I was on my stomach, kind of like a cat being pulled by her tail, clawing at the floor to try and stay where I was. Finally, by the force, my feet were pulled so now I was standing up, wall no longer there, looking over the edge of the end of the floor into what seemed like a big river. It was nighttime, and I was extremely high. There were lights around, like, maybe, it was the Hudson River near the city, and there were also some boats in the river too. I realized what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to jump, dive right into what I had been seeking - truth. So, I did. I dove and since it was so high I figured I'd do some flips for fun. That was pretty cool, and then I landed into the water. I didn't feel anything though. I just passed right through and then was in this blackness surrounding me, with black sheets on top and below me that I could stick my hands and feet through and no longer see them. An electric/digital-like blue light would appear around the parts of my limbs being stuck through the sheets. I probably could've stuck my body through but I was definitely freaked out a bit. My friend, Eliott, who has gone through all this crazy shit before told me that I can always say hi and ask questions if I want. So, I just let out a good, "Hellllooooo?!" And what I got back was one voice that said "Hi there." Another voice said, "How are you?" I replied, "I'm great." and then a whole bunch of voices laughed a cheerful laugh. I was silent. Then they laughed again, but this time, it was more of a snicker, like they were laughing AT me. I became frightened, so I just said, "Let me back to unconsciousness!" I don't know if that was the right wording. I was afraid I might've just put myself in a coma or something. But they understood, and I awoke to a computer screen with many little notification boxes open with words. Some looked like four-line stanzas. Others contained more than 20 lines. It all varied. I was trying to read it and understand it, but after the first one (which I don't remember what it said), I was awoken again, into another false awakening. However, I thought that this was reality because I was back on the bus in Texas. I had a non-lucid dream after that (which I could tell you about but really is just another banal dream) and finally woke up ("for real") to where I am now.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I'm going to go back there again, to the blackness, and ask better questions than just "Hello?!"</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I finally got some crayons for my sketchbook. I plan on experimenting with color more than actually drawing. It's relaxing for me to just put my headphones on and move a crayon in my hand. While this was happening, there was a blow-up. Money always seems to be the factor that will inevitably create stress. The Halldorsons had to go all the way to the Bank of America downtown, which was a bit farther than they wanted to drive, but I was the lucky one that got to see all of the sites – a man in a pig costume standing on the side of the street with a sign that read, “LAWYERS ARE PIGS,” a man playing his steering wheel with drumsticks at a red light, and a road sign that read “ROAD HUMPS AHEAD.” Apparently, down here, they don't call them speed bumps. We passed all the college kids, the stores that sell their hipster clothes, and the capitol buildings. It reminded me of Albany, except bigger and browner. Hey, it's Texas.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I met a long-distance cousin for the first time at the Highball. There was a free improv show, but since it was 18+, I had a night off from the fam. I understood the age minimum since the theme was “Best Sex Position Ever.” But as my cousin said, it certainly would've been an education.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-pFfVyI_T7O4/TWlptdGJUOI/AAAAAAAAADI/fHWGLfGO6lM/s1600/IMGP0215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-pFfVyI_T7O4/TWlptdGJUOI/AAAAAAAAADI/fHWGLfGO6lM/s640/IMGP0215.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Pace Bend Park – what a beaut – a peninsula surrounded by a lake that slightly smelled of salt. Got pricked by a cactus, shocked by a cold cliff jump, and stung by two wasps, but it was all worth it to see the Texas flora and mountain bikers on the intriguing hiking path and feel the awesome rush of gravity acting as acceleration as I jump from the rock separating me and the waters. Didn't taste like salt, but all I remember was focusing on getting out as soon as possible. Had to do it again, though.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Movie nights under the stars decorated our nights. The TV seemed to float in mid-air, although it was hanging by a cord Jeff had hung between two trees. I snuggled up in my sleeping bag with Mambo and some popcorn and enjoyed the magic behind kid's flicks.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> At the Wrights' again, I find myself folding clothing. Jeff reminded me of proper laundry etiquette. After removing clothes from the dryer to put yours in, fold them for the owner. My imagination was sparked by what seemed to be doll-sized jeans in my hands. How adorable. However, children are certainly not in my immediate future, except for others' kids.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I just received an incredible massage...from a machine! How do I end up in such wondrous situations?</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Well, Sonya is an old girlfriend of Jeff that Kelly befriended, so now Xoey, Kelly, and I are spending the day at Sonya's while Jeff, Wolfgang, and Griffin work hard on someone's roof. Boy, do I love being a girl. So, walking into Sonya's, I instantly knew I would love this place. How? Spotting her bookshelves. <i>World Poetry</i>, anyone? So, I find myself picking off <i>Selected Poems</i> by E.E. Cummings. Maybe, I'll go on to Whitman next. But there's more than just poetry. Lots of spiritual mumbo jumbo about femininity, some good books about death, an Everything book of alternative careers, etc. Wish I could stay here for more than a day. Lots of periwinkle blue along with darker blues, beiges, whites, various woods, greys, and browns. Good artwork, some buddhist pieces, yummy tea for my sore throat. Yes, I'm sick. Ehk, =P but I figure I need to have a stuffy nose every now and then to keep my immune system strong. Plus, sneezing can feel really good. But then there are those sneezes that you think are going to happen, but for some reason decide to stay in your nose and annoy you, like right now. Oh well.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> So, I got a message on Facebook this morning from my friend, Lowell, from UBuffalo. He's like, "You're in Austin? You should hang out with my friend, Liz!" So, I called her up and she turned out to be pretty awesome. Short dark hair with striped feathers as decorations, thin build, bathing suit top on with jean shorts, tattoos decorating the body, and a septum piercing. Got to her place, met Abby. House decorated with color, art, music, bowls. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Alex and Michael were there too. We smoked a blunt, went swimming. Trekked down to a creek that turned out to be dried up, then went to one of those chemical-filled pools. Everyone jumped in. By the time I was back from the bathroom, everyone had jumped out. I didn't care. I'm going to jump in. I slipped on my way to a cannonball. After an embarrassing move and shriek, I got out, then showed the water who's really boss. Floated on my back, staring at the clouds and birds. Did some little mermaid moves and got out to get in the minds of the girls. Abby is studying to be a social worker. She had such delight in her eyes when I would talk about children. She told me about her DMT experience; there was a baby carriage. She compared it to her friend who saw a baby carriage and had a baby, but I told her that you know your mind better than anyone else, so it could've as much been a symbol of where her path is going into social work.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> After swimming, we checked out a sub shop. It was exactly the lifestyle I left in Albany, except more hipster, more new, upward boom. These people were my friends, just in different bodies.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Went back to the house, Abby had to do homework. Liz had to clean. Dub step show tonight, but I'll just relax at Sonya's. Alex asked me to listen to some records at his place. I knew what was going to happen. He's going to smoke me up and try to get with me. I picked at his mind, but couldn't find anything special. Still, I had a good time. He was showing me pictures of fishing in Alaska as iTunes magically put on "Fish" by Mr. Scruff. It's fun to picture what a fish is thinking of us humans, or, shall I say, frogmen. Like a gentleman, he drove me back to Sonya's.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I need to get a more portable way to carry Mambo rather than her cage. I wanted to bring her, but knew she needed a place to chill while I swam, instead of my shoulder. But, allegedly, rats can swim? Anyways, Laure, a penpal from France, told me that she was a little worried upon hearing I got a pet, saying it might tie me down. I felt that feeling today, like she's a child, and more than that, a neurotic child, so scared of new environments, and I don't have the time to show her around. I need to settle this issue.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> What a wonderful morning – off to the airport for a conference in Duluth. The bus ride was a long one, but I always like looking out the window during a drive, rather than being the one driving. At the transfer bus stop, I was sitting across from a nice hotel in downtown Austin, looking at all the people in their suits and name tags, making up stories about them in my head. I imagined myself, how three years ago I would've pictured myself as one of them. Someone feeling more important than the average individual because of nice clothes and a certain professional etiquette entangled within personality. After thinking about it for no longer than five minutes, I'm glad I've chosen not to take that path. If it gets boring to think about, I'm sure it gets boring to actually live it. Then along came a woman with an Eastern European accent. She stopped to tell me about the power women hold, how she told her son to always respect women, not get caught up in beauty, but rather intelligence, and that I can never let anyone suppress me. It was refreshing. Here, this woman doesn't know anything about me, but perhaps because of my dreads and face clean of makeup, she assumes certain things about my mind, and probably from my age, she assumes I still let people get to me. I'd say she may be right. I'm working on my sense of ego. In that dream where the voices laughed AT me, I became insecure. The children sometimes call me crazy, weird, stupid for my lifestyle choices, but I can't let it get to me. I have to embrace it. I have to love my choices, so that a wall can form absorbing all that negative energy and converting it into something useful. I'm working on it. And this bus is a good place for that. Not everyone is going to like me, but I can sure lo</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">ve them.</span></span><br />
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</span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> But, as way to show you the oftentimes good side of the Unschool Bus, check out the music video we made! Since we are in the live music capital of the world, it makes a little bit of sense to virtually release the non-live music under this Austin blog post.</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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</span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-26867696562588029892011-02-09T23:20:00.004-05:002011-02-26T15:05:07.260-05:00An Aside<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">M</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">ind taking my older brother's quick survey? He's trying to establish the relationship between money and happiness. Please fill out the following questions as accurately as you can. Make sure to write your country/state. Send completed surveys to </span></span><a href="mailto:mgold3@brockport.edu"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">mgold3@brockport.edu</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span></span></span><br />
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</span></span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Country/State:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Do you live in a city, a suburb, or a rural area?:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Age:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Religion:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Gender:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Occupation:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">1. On average, do you make less than $200, $200-500, $500-1000, or more than $1000 a week?</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">2. On average, how much money do you spend a week?</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">3. Do you consider yourself a wealthy person?</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">4. Do you consider yourself a happy person?</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">5. What kind of objects do you think make or would make you happy? (Example: Car, Computer)</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">6. What kind of activities do you think make or would make you happy? (Example: Shopping, Sports)</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">7. Rank these in order of how important it is to making you happy. 1 being the most important, 8 being the least important. Do not repeat numbers.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wealth & Possessions:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Health:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Employment:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Education:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Relationships:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Freedom And Control:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Leisure Time:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Location:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">8. What is the most important thing in your life that you feel makes you happy? (Examples: Relationship with Parents, Religion, Sports Car, Lots of Money, Being a Good Cook, etc.)</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">9. What is the most important thing you want in your life that you do not currently have that you believe would make you happier?</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">10. Do you think that more money could help you achieve your answer to #9?</span></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-60882699474760974882011-01-30T15:10:00.004-05:002011-02-26T16:41:01.916-05:00Stranded in Louisiana<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Everyone was stressed – except for me. Money troubles, whining children, and edgy dogs filled the unschool bus, but we made it through. Although we were stranded in Louisiana until Jeff was paid for the work he did in New Orleans, I thoroughly enjoyed our stay.</span></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> We parked in a lot in Morgan City for the night. The next day we were planning on some sightseeing, but unfortunately we were awoken at 7:00am by a Rouses employee to tell us we had to leave (although the police the night prior had told us it was a public lot where it would be safe for us to stay). We didn't leave. Fifteen minutes later, the police arrived to tell us that we were officially being kicked out. Needless to say, we no longer felt like staying in their town. What happened to good ol' Southern hospitality?</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> So, the first town to explore was Rayne – frog capital of the world. The brochure sure looked pretty, but where did all the frogs go? A sign read that many of the frogs were given to restaurants and universities. Great. A serving of frogs legs and animal testing for the vegans</span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. From the murals decorating the buildings, we concluded that they also used to race frogs in the town. When we asked a random passerby where all the action was in Rayne, he was honest and told us to head to Crowley. Unfortunately, Kelly didn't get him on camera, but he was quite the character. Apparently he was only in Rayne to deal with some legality concerning some, if not all, of his 39 kids? We were as lost as you were reading that last sentence.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Anyways, we left for Crowley – America's rice capital. We stopped in the music store, where I was able to pick up an organized table of ukulele chords. One of the four brothers who own the store was kind enough to show us around the studio in the back as well with photos of all the famed musicians who had stopped in as well. Next we took a tour of City Hall, which housed an enormous amount of information about rice, Ford Motor Company (since Crowley had been the third largest car manufacturing city in Louisiana), the music industry in Crowley, and the city itself. Mambo and I had fun dancing along to the selection of blues, cajun, pop, and rock music from the mid-twentieth century.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> After that we headed to Jennings. We heard there were gators to pet in the welcome hall. They were cute. Bubba was about a foot long, and Hampton was probably half that size. It was pouring rain outside, but we checked out the bigger gators outside as well. We were getting worried about the payment we needed before heading to Austin. We were really running low on cash, but finally Jeff was able to convince Esther (the landlord) that yes, he really had fixed the toilet at the house in New Orleans, and the resident, Jim, had been doing everything in his power to make it look like it was leaking.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> We decided to have an Internet day at a Starbucks in Lake Charles while waiting for payment to be deposited into the Paypal account.. I've been reading <i>My Big TOE </i>by Tom Campbell online for free through Google books. It's captivating, but I can only read it sporadically, since I'd rather save every cent and not just download it. However, I highly recommend the book whichever way you choose to read it. Campbell is a NASA physicist who discusses a theory of everything that accounts for both our physical matter reality and the non-physical matter realities of outer body experiences, lucid dreaming, remote viewing, and other psychic occurrences. I consider it a must-read.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> After Esther finally came through, we headed to an RV park in Vinton for some much needed stress relief. The review of Nibblit's Bluff online was poor, but for $13.50 a night, we couldn't understand who had sabotaged their online review. The place was quiet (we were the only ones there for the first day), there was an animal farm, multiple playgrounds, hot showers, and best of all, it was right on a river connected to bayous! I had been waiting to see a bayou, and only a mile away from Texas, I was afraid we weren't going to. It was a gorgeous place, and a generous man from down the river named Don came to visit us and let us borrow one of his canoes. He's an amazing artist, but mostly loves diving into the bayou to haul up old logs that were dropped by the many old logging companies in the area, and then selling them for wood. On our third day in the park, Don even took us out on his motor boat to explore the bayou. It was absolutely amazing and an incredible coincidence. I remember standing in the welcome hall in Jennings looking at brochures of swamp tours, but also thinking about how expensive they probably were, yet here I was, enjoying a personalized tour for free!</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Also while at Nibblit's, I wrote my first two songs on the ukulele. “The Unschool Bus” is a quirky introduction of our life, and we're now in the process of making a music video for it. My other new song, I've named “Dreaming Life Away.” I was sitting on the dock strumming some random chords and began to feel inspired. It has a bit of a southern touch to it. Enjoy.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/iTAI8W0-OzA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-19181691804293069792011-01-22T15:35:00.002-05:002011-02-26T16:42:48.419-05:00New Orleans, LA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “I love your hair!” Kelly had colorful wraps decorating her head now.</span></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “Yeah, Jeff and Xoey have been working on them. It looked ridiculous when there were only a few in, but now it's looking better.”</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We headed to the baggage claim.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “So, where are we going from here?”</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “Can we go to the treehouse?!” Xoey asked.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “Yeah, yeah! Let's go!” Griffin agreed.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “That sounds pretty cool. What is it like?”</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “You just have to see it,” they all told me.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We headed to the bus. Captain Jeff rolled up, opened the doors, and as soon as I got on, we started moving.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “Where are we heading?” the captain asked.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> “Treehouse!”</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I was excited. The drive from the airport to the treehouse wasn't all that appealing – mostly highway. I saw a glimpse of it along the way. It looked like a Chuck E. Cheese jungle gym.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> When we got there, I felt just like a child again. Xoey, Griffin, and I ran through the grass, and I followed them up to the top. Only Jeff had taken the risk of climbing up the rickety ladder to the highest globe. I decided to take the chance. There's nothing to fear but fear itself.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I looked down at Jeff taking photos. I'm glad I have pseudo-parents to capture these kinds of moments. It really takes away from the experience when I take pictures myself.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTs9u5tmJ9I/AAAAAAAAABc/AVG-PSmhtLQ/s1600/IMG_3114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTs9u5tmJ9I/AAAAAAAAABc/AVG-PSmhtLQ/s320/IMG_3114.JPG" width="180" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Along with the multiple stairways and spheres, there was also a rope bridge, rope swings, a theater stage, a juice bar, and other miscellaneous playground material. The whole structure is made from recycled material, and anyone who has contributed takes on the last name Pterodactyl.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Across the way are some guys in their twenties living in the house on the property. They let anyone hang out on the treehouse. Even the homeless sleep there sometimes. I came across a few empty beer bottles, so I assume it may also be a social hang-out as well.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The treehouse may have been in a sketchy neighborhood, have graffiti all over it, and have broken windows, but I absolutely loved it. It was magical. We stayed until the night came, and the treehouse lights came on. I laid on the rope bridge staring at the sky, thinking “And this is only the first day...”</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTs9lPkZ-dI/AAAAAAAAABY/tXgBRAzV_xw/s1600/IMG_3121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTs9lPkZ-dI/AAAAAAAAABY/tXgBRAzV_xw/s400/IMG_3121.JPG" width="400" /></span></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The next few days weren't as action-packed as swinging from ropes, but there was a lot of time to relax and get to know the family better. I found out about the latest drama in the unschooling circle that resembles high school and realized that having a little sister who just turned thirteen isn't always rainbows and butterflies. I forgot about the stubborn “world revolves around me” attitude that comes with teen-hood.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I was learning new things everyday, like not to directly eat the orange look-a-likes because they actually taste like a mix between lemons and limes, but I also learned that they make great a “lemonade.” I learned that a sick dog can poo something that looks reminiscent of yellow paint, and I've learned that being vegan isn't so bad.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> While I've been in New Orleans, I decided to take out a book that I had to buy for my Magic, Witchcraft, and Sorcery class, but chose not to read during the semester when I was “supposed to.” For me, a teacher telling me to read something always takes the fun out of it. So, every morning I've been waking up with the sun and <i>Voodoo in New Orleans</i>. Jeff then gets up after me to make coffee for himself and tea for me. Then he continues on with his ritual of cleaning up from the previous night's dinner.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> After the first rain I've experienced on the Unschool Bus, I was able to redo the side of the bus. It's partially covered in black paint, so we can use chalk to decorate. I worked on becoming ambidextrous by filling in the block letters of “UNSCHOOLBUS.COM” with my left hand. It feels great to have the time to do things such as that that may have no practical purposes, but may work another part of my brain that has been left behind all these years. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The only “tourist-y” thing we've done here so far is taking a walk in the French Quarter. What we have found is that this is a place for drinking and buying vacationer-approved </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">gris-gris</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">. Otherwise we've been hanging out in Wal-Mart parking lots and at the house on Independence St. that Jeff is working on. The landlord will be giving the renters thirty days notice for eviction, and we'll be back in twenty-five to continue the renovations.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The first moment of stress I've had has come along with the arrival of my new vagabond friend, Mambo. She's a black and white rat who I named after the word for a voodoo priestess. Setting up her cheap cage in the dim light was really getting on my nerves, but when I was finally finished, I was able to take a breath, sit down, and enjoy the delicious dinner of rice and veggies that Kelly made.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTs-Fqng9YI/AAAAAAAAABk/fiiBe6L2knc/s1600/mambo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTs-Fqng9YI/AAAAAAAAABk/fiiBe6L2knc/s320/mambo.jpg" width="320" /></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> That night and the next morning I started training Mambo. She now enjoys hanging out on my shoulder and the back of my neck, probably because my dreads keep her warm and cozy. I was afraid that the dogs would scare her, but they seem to be more curious about her than ready to attack. She's already pooped on me about five times. I think it's love. I took her on her first walk into the bargain shops along Dauphin St. to try to find her a toy and possibly sell my book. Neither were accomplished, but I did find a small Christmas ornament on the ground, which I now have wrapped in electric tape to be used as a toy ball. I also managed to grab free newspapers for her cage bedding and a sticker that says “VAGINA MAFIA” to complete the collection on my laptop. I also wonder what it means...The important part is that it's a souvenir from New Orleans.</span></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-25755586941491336342011-01-16T13:44:00.010-05:002011-06-14T23:56:42.322-04:00Before the Bus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">WOODSTOCK, NY - 3 days </span></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTM5kHOJbaI/AAAAAAAAABM/IWgIPn99sw0/s1600/close.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTM5kHOJbaI/AAAAAAAAABM/IWgIPn99sw0/s320/close.jpg" width="205" /></span></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"></span></span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> A mountain home is filled with books. A kind soul is in the kitchen. Pictures of Native Americans, pin-up models, and famous pacifists decorate the walls. Loki, a large black lab, is the older sister to the new pomeranian pup, Snoop. For three days, I will be the fourth inhabitant of this house.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Dinner is a delight. My stomach fills up like a balloon. I go to the living room, lay on my mattress next to the Christmas tree, and breathe. I have started my journey, but it is time to relax.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I read the last four chapters of <i>Lies My Teacher Told Me</i>. A friend told me that's enough to get to the point. I also complete the most intriguing chapters of <i>Indian Givers</i> during my stay.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Errands. I like that Donna and I bond like mother and child. She says she wants to adopt me.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The mountains are covered in evergreen blankets, and the sun shines over the horizon. I am at peace. I let go. Life takes control for me.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> It's the New Year. I could reflect and make resolutions, but that would require putting my attention on something other than the now. The now is what vitalizes me.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Dance party tonight. Bearsville Theater. City folk in their best attire and face. Meanwhile, I look a bit plain in my Moon Boots and floral shirt. Get high. Dance like I'm a superstar. The crowd moves me into the spotlight or out of the spotlight depending on my skills. I meet Kyla. We connect. Telepathy ensues. Pink, green, blue glow sticks – shake, shake, shake. I find out I'm going to survive an alien rapture.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Say goodbye. I have family here.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">NEW PALTZ, NY – 5 days</span></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Lowell! Bright blue jacket beams those bright blue eyes. The house is filled with plants. I imagine a jungle. The parakeets add sound to the scene. My own little loft has many books, but I only have time for the first two chapters of <i>The Fountainhead</i>. Lowell doesn't rest. This is boot camp. The ache feels good. I needed to lose that freshman fifteen.</span></span></span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTM6UWhC3jI/AAAAAAAAABQ/G0LsKwqydPc/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTM6UWhC3jI/AAAAAAAAABQ/G0LsKwqydPc/s400/17.jpg" width="400" /></span></span></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Get high, get high, get high. Hike, camp, boulder, cave. First time I go underground into complete darkness. Headlamp goes back on. Light, I feel comfort.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I decide to be a photographer. Take pictures of the scenes, trees, rocks, leaves. Make a watermark. That'll make it look professional.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Norah is a good cook too. For being poor, I am fed like a queen.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Bartender Bri wants to go to Oregon, maybe Alaska. Says I can visit her anytime. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I love making friends.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">NEW YORK CITY, NY – 10 days</span></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Cydney greets me at Port Authority. Dominican food tonight in Washington Heights. Practico mi español.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Staying in Jersey. Public transport fees are a bitch. The unlimited metro pass soothes my anxiety from letting go of green pieces of paper. Still manage to spend more than intended, but every experience is worth it.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Go through the books. Find <i>Politics of Experience</i>. Perfect timing.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Botanical Gardens, Museum of Natural History, People's Theater, Queens Nursing Home. Visit my grandfather twice. I wonder if he has my view of death.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I learn that I like to shovel snow. Never helped my dad with it as a little girl, but now it is relaxing, productive, exhilarating.</span></span></span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTM63egUjNI/AAAAAAAAABU/YmaEPIqcnQY/s1600/IMGP0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTM63egUjNI/AAAAAAAAABU/YmaEPIqcnQY/s320/IMGP0112.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/TTM63egUjNI/AAAAAAAAABU/YmaEPIqcnQY/s1600/IMGP0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> No Pants Subway Ride! 'Nuff said.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Daniel Pinchbeck and Reggie Watts speak tonight. Cydney drags me along even though I wanted to crash. I thank her for it. What a wonderful atmosphere with absurd but enlivening ideas bouncing from head to head.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I meet Eliott. Eliott – the first boy to have precognitive dreams about me. In his twenties, but a boy. We are child-like together.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Cydney invites him over for a mini sleepover the next night. Dan is over too. Positive crowd. Bev bakes the best cupcakes. We buy a giant fairy coloring book and crayons. Eliott speaks sweet metaphors to me as he watches me color him a picture. Fire starts.</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We move to a loft in a dark room. I see Eliott's figure, but big black holes for his eyes. I look at my hands to check if I'm dreaming. He still speaks in metaphors. He holds his hand out. “Octopus.” I now see eight moving extensions. This is all a dream. I am constantly in illusion.</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></span></div></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-6299352323700825222010-12-23T23:43:00.007-05:002011-02-27T13:10:27.603-05:00Unschooling Myself<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I have officially left college. I am now back where I started, back where I spent the first 17 years of my life, my little hometown of Coxsackie, NY. This is where I went to public school, where I played recreational soccer, where I spent time with friends, and where I learned to grow up. I'm glad to be back.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> However, I do miss dear Buffalo. Although most of my writings have been critical of college, I am not in total disgust with the idea. I actually enjoyed my experience very much for the last semester. A recent comment on my last post stated that my analysis of college was short-sighted and erroneous at best. I understand that I have been taking a biased viewpoint (don't we all?), but now is the time to point out that my opinion hasn't been a complaint. Perhaps it has come off as myself feeling annoyed and angry at "the system," but, in fact, I have discovered the true way to be happy, and that is to appreciate every moment for what it is, which is why I came to University at Buffalo with the attitude that I would make the most of the time I was there, and I did. I took the most interesting classes that I could find in the course catalog. Most turned out to be unimpressive, but luckily I lightened my course load, so I would have more time for the more charming parts of college, such as school clubs and meeting new people. With those two things in mind, I learned a lot and had fun at the same time.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> But, of course, the time had to come to an end. I was able to experience 4 years of undergrad in only one semester. How? By setting that as my goal. With knowledge of not returning, I took everything out of it I could. I met with students of all ages, audited classes I wasn't even signed up for, and let university show me what it's made of. I can say that I am now ready to move on. It's time to unschool.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> So, it's not that I think I'm better than anyone else because I'm "over" college. It's just that I have realized that I can make my life into whatever I desire, rather than comply with expectations. My heart aches for those that feel they are stuck, for those left at college, not knowing why, but complaining about tests and the lack of fulfillment in their lives in general. This is where my frustration comes from. These people are those that motivate me to write papers about why college is not a good investment.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I may go back to college, eventually. But like my father pointed out to me in the car ride home, if I'm attending college, it should be my priority, but right now it is not. Therefore, I will do what I've been dreaming about since my first training bra - travel. So many people say, how will you get the money? Ahh, money, money, money. It's what makes the world go 'round, right? The funny thing is that I don't think too much about it. I realize that if I really want to do something, money is not an issue. First of all, it certainly doesn't take that much money to sustain oneself. I could probably live without money. I could couchsurf and practice freeganism. Most people have never heard of these things because they haven't made it a priority to figure out. Yet, I'll probably still try to bring in some cash. When I get low, I can just pick up a job in a city I want to befriend for a while, save up, and move on.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> You might be thinking that this isn't a pleasing lifestyle. It's not stable, not secure. But that's the thing; I'm not looking for stability or security. I've had that my whole life. I need chaos and excitement. I need something to motivate me, to instill passion in me. I just need to figure the world out, and a college classroom is not the place to do that.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> As of right now, I am sitting in the kitchen of my high school friend's house as she's at work. Her parents don't mind that I've been sleeping on the couch for the past few nights They even offered me a blow-up mattress. They've been feeding me, and in return, I do some dishes and provide good conversation. When I treat them like family, I'm like family. It's a simple as that. Good character is enough to get me places. For example, next stop is Woodstock with my old English teacher (yup, the one from the speech). After that, I head to New Paltz, where a friend from Buffalo resides on holidays. I continue south to NYC, where I will stay with another friend. Now, this is where it gets even more exciting. In mid-January, I'll be taking a plane down to the family I will be staying with for an undetermined amount of time, the Halldorsons. And the Halldorsons aren't just any normal family. They have renovated a school bus RV-style, and named it the Unschool Bus. Here, check it out:</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/JFqAl1gHJdA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Kelly Halldorson was the first person to interview me after my speech. We met up in a coffee shop in Albany and had great conversation for about two hours. We kept in contact through Facebook, and the few days before I shipped off to Buffalo, I spent in Boston at an unschooling conference with the whole family. I'm very excited to see them again and start acting like part of the family. Creating family everywhere, I've learned, is one of the beauties of life.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> So, for night now, I'm in stage 1 of unschooling myself. I've been relaxing - sitting around reading, playing ukulele, making a dress out of construction paper, duct tape, and tin foil...basically whatever I want. I'm really not focused on trying to make money, or figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. I'm taking it one day at a time, and I'm lucky enough to have a support system that will help me with this crucial stage in my life.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I know a lot of people expect me to be "something great," but there's no way that will happen along side of me being happy and driven without realizing myself what that something is. I often feel that I have been trying to free myself, but now there is even more pressure. Honestly, I think that no matter what I "become," I will be great. I think that my path is maturing me and giving me wisdom every step I take, and even if I died tomorrow, I will feel complete. But, here I am, still living, so there must be a niche for me to take, one that will continue to create balance and harmony in the universe.</span></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-77055902118965960222010-12-05T14:22:00.004-05:002011-02-26T15:25:24.247-05:00Bye, Bye Buffalo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Below is my final paper for my Current Economics Issues class in memory of my experience here at University at Buffalo.</span></span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><em style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">“Felix qui nihil debet (happy is he who owes nothing)”</span></span></em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">– Roman Proverb</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
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<div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">PREFACE</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> This is my first and last semester at University at Buffalo. It was a “try-out” to see if university is really worth the time and money. So, to conclude the time I've spent here, I've decided to take the con side against a topic that was mentioned in a lecture by Professor Holmes at the beginning of the Fall 2010 semester in his Current Economic Issues class – the investment into education. He stated that we (students) are increasing our human capital by obtaining a college degree. This is true, however I seek to look more deeply into the implications of attending university and the lifestyle that follows. Below is research supporting my claim, along with generalizations that describe the typical four-year university student, many of which I have become personally associated with.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">INTRODUCTION</span><br />
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</span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Education is oftentimes highly valued in American society. A college degree makes it easier to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">find higher-paying, steady jobs. Economics Professor at Skidmore College, Sandy Baum, tells us that c</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">ollege graduates earn, on average, about $20,000 more a year than those who finished their educations at high school. Add that up over a 40-year working life and the total differential is about $800,000. But since much of that bonus is earned many years from now, subtracting out the impact of inflation means that $800,000 in future dollars is worth only about $450,000 in today's dollars. Then, if you subtract out the cost of a college degree – about $30,000 in tuition and books for students who get no aid and attend public in-state universities, plus room and board at about $50,000 – and the money a student could have earned at a job instead of attending school, the real net value in today's dollars is somewhere in the $300,000 range. This still seems like a substantial amount of money, but let's take a look at the externalities that come from the investment into education.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">THE COLLEGE LIFE</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> With almost 10 million views on YouTube, a popular music video titled, “I Love College,” by </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Asher Roth depicts the college lifestyle as being full of partying, drinking, and women. The lyrics state, “</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I can't tell you what I learned from school \ but I could tell you a story or two, um \ Yeah, of course I learned some rules \ Like don't pass out with your shoes on (Get the Sharpie!) \ And don't leave the house 'til the booze gone (No, we're not leaving) \ And don't have sex if she's too gone \ When it comes to condoms put two on (Trust me).” Although parents and teachers would prefer to think that youth are in college to advance their intellect, their reasoning for being there is closer to that of Roth's. The media has a powerful impact on minds, and for years, the image of college has been carefully sculpted away from valuing academia and toward valuing sex, drugs, and commercialism. This can lead to many dangers, including alcohol abuse, rape, and violence.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Aside from this is the psychology of learning – how students perceive college education. University is like a one-stop shop for everything you need – math, science, history, etc. Once one attains his degree, he gets a job, and he doesn't need to learn anymore. He thinks this way because he is forced to take general education requirements even if he's not interested in the subjects, leading him to believe that that's all the information that is necessary to form a complete view of the world. His only motivation is a degree. He wants to pass his classes, not to show himself that he's learned something, but so he can obtain the credits needed. This goal-oriented view of education leaves one to memorize and regurgitate information rather than look deeper into his studies in order to understand the importance of the material, or even learn the skill of critical thinking (Goldson). The teacher is viewed as the authority in the classroom who has all the answers, while the student subordinates because he has no answers, or at least not the “right” answers (Freire 72).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> After all is said and done, the money spent on an “education” was really just for certification to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">work. The degree will show an employer that the applicant can successfully do what he is told. Most often, the employer doesn't care what the student was trained in (i.e. his major) because the important </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">part is that he can be trained. According to CollegeGrad.com, only 3 out of 22 companies described one’s major as being important outside of the case where specific technical skills are needed for the job, and the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Education in Economics Review</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> tell</span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">s us that around 55% of graduates land a job that matches their major (Shenk). That's only a little over half.</span></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">THE WORK LIFE</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> So, assuming that there isn't a down-turned economy and the student lands a job, the implications of this new lifestyle are important to consider. Oftentimes, the job that one receives with a college degree is an office job that can easily put this person out of touch with reality. For example, since he is receiving a steady paycheck, he does not need to know how his food is produced; he just needs to use his money to buy it at the store. Later down the line, he can then develop cancer from the genetically modified produce. Luckily, he can trust a doctor to give him the right treatment, using radiation to solve the problem. He didn't bother doing any research himself because he believes that he learned all he needed to learn in college, and now money can just solve any problem. Unfortunately, it turns out that this lack of critical thinking can lead to more problems than just his own.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> This worker is now a consumer, and the average consumer doesn't usually think about where his clothes come from, or what the fine print in his credit card statement says. He's just living the American dream. He lives as an individual, not seeking any type of higher level of thought, such as the interconnectedness of all things. He does not worry that his actions affect someone halfway across the world. The sweatshop worker that is exposed to harsh chemicals while making Mardi Gras beads does not even know what they are used for (Redmon), but the average consumer is not concerned. Taking a </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">loan for a mortgage that is inconceivable to pay back and may cause a financial meltdown isn't the average consumer's top priority. His priorities lie within his small circle of friends, family, and co-workers; his satisfaction with material goods perpetuates the exploitation of resources and people, and his taxes continue to fuel the military-industrial complex.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">AN ALTERNATIVE</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> James Altucher recommends that young people use the money that they would've spent on university to start a business (or five). He says they could also travel the world, work, volunteer, or just read books to receive the benefits of college plus some. Most of the smart, motivated, and ambitious students think that they need college, but this is not necessarily so. They usually see a college degree as security, but they try to attain it too early in life without experience or knowledge about what they really want to do. Getting real-world experience outside of school is invaluable, and can open up one's eyes to how the world really works outside of the structured and safe environment that university provides, which will hopefully motivate them to make a real difference in the world.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">CONCLUSION</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Of course, university does have good aspects, but today it is treated in entirely the wrong way. To truly value education means to also value conversation, the Internet, books, and life experiences. College is only a worthwhile investment if it directly contributes to what you know you want to do in life, instead of being a place to go because you are expected to. The risks associated with partying and the impact it has on the rest of the world are detrimental to society and can be classified as externalities of the higher-level education system.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">WORKS CITED</span></span></div><div align="CENTER" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Altucher, James. "Seven Reasons Not to Send Your Kids to College." </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">DailyFinance</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">. AOL Money & Finance, 06 Aug. 2010. Web. 26 Nov. 2010. </span></span><http://www.dailyfinance.com/story/investing/seven-reasons-not-to-send-your-kids-to-college/19572537><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">.</span></span></http://www.dailyfinance.com/story/investing/seven-reasons-not-to-send-your-kids-to-college/19572537></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Baum, Sandy. </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Is Skidmore Worth the Cost? </span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Skidmore College. </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">YouTube</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">. 15 Oct 2009. Web. 26 Nov 2010.</span></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Freire, Paulo. </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Pedagogy of the Oppressed</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">. New York: Herder and Herder, 1972. 72-73. Print.</span></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Goldson, Erica. "Here I Stand." Class of 2010 HS Graduation. Coxsackie-Athens HS, Coxsackie, NY. 25 June 2010. Speech.</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I Love College</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">. Dir. Jonathan Lia and Scooter Braun. Perf. Asher Roth. SchoolBoy/SRC/Universal Motown, 2009. </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">YouTube</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">. AsherRothVEVO, 16 June 2009. Web. 26 Nov 2010. </span></span><http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyx7yg0rsfy><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">.</span></span></http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyx7yg0rsfy></span></div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Mardi Gras: Made in China</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">. Dir. David Redmon. By David Redmon. Carnivalesque Films, 2005. DVD.</span></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.49in;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Shenk, David. "Does Your College Major Matt</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">er?" Study Hacks. 2007. Web. 26 Nov. 2010. </span></span><http://calnewport.com/blog/2007/10/24/does-your-college-major-matter><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">.</span></span></http://calnewport.com/blog/2007/10/24/does-your-college-major-matter></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-86886218457683793642010-11-16T19:13:00.012-05:002011-06-14T23:59:47.636-04:00San Francisco, CA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I've been to San Francisco two times so far, and both have been enchanting experiences. I was originally invited by Campaign for Liberty to speak at one of their weekly meetings. As one of my friends has put it, I've "become a darling of the Libertarians."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> On my first day of arrival, I gave out free hugs and spread good vibes with the Love Police in Hallidie Plaza. There I met Kevin, who explored with me all weekend. Although, he lives in Union Square, there were many parts of the city that he'd never seen either. We went to Golden Gate Park to chill on Hippie Hill, where I met some characters, including another cyber celebrity, Melody Gannon, pancreatic cancer survivor and now poster child for medical marijuana after being photographed lighting up a bowl at an annual convention for the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML). We sat, smoked, and talked for hours. Her story of leaving her strict Catholic background on the east coast at 19 left me astonished. Everything she told me was preparing me for my journey. It was in San Francisco where I realized when you let the universe take control, magic happens. From drag queens at Dolores Park to smiling children on roller-skates in Golden Gate, joy filled the air. What a horrible 9-hour plane ride it was to get back to boring Buffalo. (Buffalo actually isn't THAT bad, but compared to San Fran, c'mon.)</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Lucky for me, Kevin and I kept in touch, and he flew me back for a second time.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We explored more. He was going to bring me to the zoo, but I convinced him that there would be plenty of things to do for free. So, we decided to head to the beach, but only a few blocks away, our bus's doors opened to a pet shop. Of course, it was the cosmos sending love our way again, and we hopped right off. It was independently owned with the best customer service I've ever experienced. It was like our own personal tour through a zoo. The birds were exotic, and the man who took care of them had actually grown up around birds in Haiti. We were able to play with them and learn about each different personality.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> After checking out the rest of the animals, we headed to the beach. At this point in my life, I was perfectly content, trusting in the universe, and ready for spiritual enlightenment. What a perfect time and place to try shrooms for the first time. Let's just say I've never been so happy sitting in a bush.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I could go on and on about all the beautiful people I met and the beautiful places I went, but I suppose those will be stories for another time.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> My inspiration for finally sitting down and writing about San Fran was my dad. Since I had been spending so much time in the Bay Area, he just sent me a 104 year old film clip he found:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
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</span> </span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy2-_V5qUfH_fEIYcagV9jsX0l7Cl5XZBpbGzzs06Lt_nlbmnhF0_fyH6Q1pARM8gw2bsK022RVuoMwJK8VJQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span> </span> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> "A fascinating movie taken by a camera on the front of a street car 104 years ago. Look at the hats the ladies were wearing and the long dresses. Some of the cars had the steering wheels on the right side. Wonder when they standardized on the left? The wheels seemed to be wide track and the cars were long. There were still a lot of horse drawn vehicles in use. Mass transit looked like the way to get around. It also looks like everybody had the right of way. The building at the end of the track is the San Francisco Ferry Terminal, which is still standing and still in use in some capacity. As it says, in additional information below, this was taken 4 days before the great San Francisco earthquake. This is perhaps the oldest 'home movie' you will ever see.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> You 'are there' for a cable car ride in San Francisco. This film was reportedly 'lost' for many years. It was the first 35mm film ever made. It was taken by a camera mounted on the front of a cable car.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The number of automobiles is staggering for 1906...absolutely amazing! The clock tower at the end of Market Street at the Embarcadero Wharf is still there. How many 'street cleaning' people were employed to pick up after horses? Talk about going green! It is a great historical film! </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> This film was originally thought to be from 1905 until David Kiehn, with the Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum, figured out exactly when it was shot. Mr. Kiehn was able to take information from New York trade papers announcing the film showing, to the wet streets from recent heavy rainfall, and shadows indicating time of year and actual weather and conditions on historical record, even when the cars were registered. (He even knows who owned them and when the plates were issued!). It was filmed only four days before the Great California Earthquake of April 18th, 1906 and shipped by train to New York for processing."</span></span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My favorite part of this video is the boys running in front of the cable car, testing their luck. I think it's their way of learning. Unfortunately, our streets today are more dangerous due to the faster cars, but back then it was expected for children to explore, play, and learn about the world on their own. Is it possible to get back to those days of personal responsibility without the government "mommying" everyone with laws and police? Possibly. Check this out: <a href="http://www.citiesforchildren.eu/fileadmin/media/PDF/Strategy/CfC_Netzwerk_Net.pdf"><b>Cities for Children</b></a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://www.citiesforchildren.eu/fileadmin/media/PDF/Strategy/CfC_Netzwerk_Net.pdf"></a> My friend, Peter Gray, a psychologist and professor at Boston College, writes a lot about how play is associated with learning. He is currently involved with the </span><a href="http://bnp.binghamton.edu/2010/09/play-symposium/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Binghamton Neighborhood Project</b></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, and his blog can be found here: </span><a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/freedom-learn"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Freedom to Learn</b></span></a></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-16604850896830144712010-11-02T23:22:00.004-04:002011-02-26T15:34:04.510-05:00A Satire: Government Product Restrictions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Below is my attempt to turn a boring regurgitation of debate material from Economics class into something more interesting.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> It's Halloween. Little Johnny has just come back from trick-or-treating. He runs up to his room, measures his pumpkin basket filled to the top with goodies, and finds he has received over three pounds of candy! Immediately, his mouth begins to salivate. He rips open his first Hershey bar and swallows it down. Next, it's the Twizzlers, then Reese's, and before he knows it, the basket is almost empty. His stomach rumbles. “Uh oh,” Johnny tells himself. Without delay, he runs to the bathroom. As he regurgitates what he initially thought was sugary deliciousness, he thinks, “Well, that's the last time I do that!” His mother overhears the ruckus from the bathroom and runs inside. “Oh, poor baby! I hope you've learned your lesson!” she shouts with concern. He certainly has.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The next day, the national news reports about the startling number of American children who overeat candy on Halloween. Politician, Guy Proviso, who is running for office that Tuesday, decides to address this concern by telling the American populace that, if elected, he will do everything in his power to make sure no more children will go through such painful and traumatic digestive issues from dangerous sugary substances. “It's the Devil's food,” he stated at the press conference.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Now, this may not have been the deciding factor for him winning over his Republican opponent, who stated he was more concerned with the national debt, but regardless, Proviso entered office the next year. He wrote up a bill called the National Minimum Age Candy-Eating Act, which passed through Congress with help from lobbying groups such as MAHC (Mothers Against Halloween Candy) and the ADA (American Dietetic Association). This new act effectively created a minimum age of 21 to purchase and consume any substance with sugar content of over 15g per serving. All states had to either adopt this new law or lose 10% of federal funding for the highway system. Congressman Pon Raul was one of the few who spoke out against the act. “It's bogus, but I'm surrounded by constituents who are overly concerned parents, new-age health freaks, or easily paid off with free dried fruit baskets.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The next day, TootsieRoll, Mars, Wrigley, Nestle, and Cadbury-Adams' stocks all dropped by at least 50%. In the next few months, only Nestle and Mars were able to stay in business. CEO of Nestle reported that they were receiving mass bulk orders by random individuals throughout the US. It turns out that candy became a growing black market. More police had to be hired to monitor school districts. Mrs. Stimpleton, Johnny's 3</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">rd</span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> grade teacher, became tired of sending students to the principal's office for sneaking Snickers to each other in exchange for cash during recess. “Now we just send them strait to Officer Thomas, who brings them down to the station,” said Principal Frankfer.</span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> One day, Johnny's mother got a knock on the door from Officer Thomas. “We found him at the playground eating Butterfingers again. We can let him off with a ticket, but we're going to have to search his room and confiscate any more candy products that he might be hiding.” “I don't see what the big deal is,” she retorts, “He isn't hurting anybody, not even himself. He definitely learned how to handle his sugar after last Halloween's extravaganza.” “I understand your concerns, ma'am, but the law's the law, and we make pretty good money off of all these fines.”</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Clearly, this is an exaggeration, but it is quite parallel to the laws regarding the purchase and consumption of alcohol, as well as other “hazardous” drugs. Just as Johnny learned his lesson from the over-consumption of candy, a teenager can easily learn his or her lesson from the over-consumption of alcohol, or learn the lessons of those who die from alcohol poisoning. What a paradox to find signs regarding Goodyear Hall as a dry residence hall, but also awareness posters showing dead teens who partied too hard. If the law really worked, then we wouldn't need to be warned about the implications of alcohol and drugs in health class. But it doesn't work. These restrictions are only still in place for the purposes of collecting money from fines, justifying the additional policing of the state, and, in some cases, creating more violence in poor neighborhoods.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> When the government defines what is dangerous, politicians and lobbying groups become the new parents of American citizens. However, our freedom does not belong in the hands of religious zealots, industries whose money comes with motives, or the respected upper-class who can easily keep their children's records clean with reputation. Our freedom belongs to ourselves. Only if one imposes on the rights of another should the government step in to enforce justice. It is evident that our tax dollars should not be going toward police forces that seek to break up parties or search high school lockers. It is also evident that the system we have now only perpetuates itself. Parents assume less responsibility when they are fooled into believing that the law will keep their children from even seeking illegal substances. Then, children are not properly educated and found dead at a party due to peer pressure or dead on the streets due to gang violence.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The United States of America has the highest minimum drinking age in the world. Italy carries none. In Italy, wine is often consumed by minors at family dinners. Here, young people can learn and begin to understand the effects of alcohol first-hand without the offensive restrictions put through by over-protective governments. Germany's drinking age is 16, where, according to a foreign exchange student who attended my high school, “We are allowed to be young.” It's ironic that America preaches freedom, yet is one of the most socially-controlled countries around.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The effects on our economy with the repeal of the National Minimum Drinking Age Act are clear. Those who are underage have easy access to alcohol as it is, but those few who are dissuaded by the law would then be able to support the alcohol industry. It is likely to see an increase in small business revenue because more people will have access to drinks at bars, restaurants, and clubs. It would then be up to the discretion of the owner of the business (who wouldn't want to let a drunk person leave his/her establishment), and of course the customer, as to the acceptable drinking age.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> The repeal of laws regarding other recreational drugs would create competition in the marketplace, impeding on the alcohol industry's profits, but, again, this is about the freedom of the consumer, not big business. For example, the legalization of cannabis, a safer alternative to alcohol, would give a new choice to teens looking for leisure. It would also open up a whole new industry filled with new ideas, production, technology, and economic prosperity, especially since the use of hemp isn't limited to just bodily effects from ingestion. It can also be used as an alternative for many products that use oil, and is one of the strongest materials known to man.</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Intelligbly, the laws we have now do not work, and, more importantly, are not respected. If our government continues to suffocate the American people with ridiculous restrictions, then the law will be obsolete. The government's involvement in our personal lives ought to be limited, so people can learn to be more responsible and productive denizens without being babied.</span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-81661461607076682252010-10-10T03:00:00.012-04:002011-02-26T15:38:38.261-05:00Moving Toward Movies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> This is just a new idea that has popped into my head. I like movies. I like to write. I can write movie reviews.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> And that is precisely why I related to the main character in "It's Kind of a Funny Story." His thoughts were so simple, yet they led to such great inquiries. He is me. This is the movie that I would recommend to any kid who, like me, feels or has felt too much pressure "in the system."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Keir Gilchrist plays Craig, a stressed out and suicidal teen. But what's the first thing he does after having intense dreams that are too tough to handle any longer? Goes to the hospital to bluntly say, "I want to kill myself." A quick response apart from the front desk worker's cell phone conversation is, "Fill this out," as she plops a clipboard and papers on the counter. The humor is so stereotypical that it leads us to question society as a whole.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Craig's family consists of a businessman father, a stay at home mother, and a child prodigy little sister. As a boy that grew up in New York City, he understands what it's like to be able to go to any school he wants (or any school that his father expects him to) instead of the closest one to his home. He's already gone through the college application process, except with high school, and as he realizes he doesn't fit into the world of yuppies, he starts to spin out. Luckily, the hospital admits him. But what Craig doesn't know is that "admit" actually means "commit." He soon realizes that he is having a five-day vacation in his new psych ward home. He doesn't realize it yet, but he'll be happy that he is forced to not go to school or finish an application for a program that will look good on his college resume.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Throughout the stay, he meets very interesting characters, including </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Zach Galifianakis, playing "Bobby," a man who Craig does not understand at first but will come to have a lasting impact on his life. The audience gets to understand the personhood within each "crazy" and perhaps understand the craziness of their own lives as well. And of course there is some puppy love (with a bughouse beauty named Noelle, portrayed by Emma Roberts) along with a hint of drama from Craig's prior life to complete this teenage coming-of-age story.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> This is a must see for any young person who has begun to fall down the rabbit hole or perhaps current freethinkers/spirits who have a longing for nostalgia. It is relatable and lighthearted.</span></span></span></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-63915495148524050532010-08-31T00:01:00.001-04:002011-02-26T15:40:25.055-05:00First Day of School!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/THx-6k7QEMI/AAAAAAAAAA4/keJwKCdk9vo/s1600/student.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511419588804350146" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/THx-6k7QEMI/AAAAAAAAAA4/keJwKCdk9vo/s320/student.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 270px; margin: 0 0 10px 10px; width: 187px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">And this is how I see myself...</span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">well, maybe a female version.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> My classes require three books each, and they really aren't as exciting as I expected. Actually, I didn't expect them to be exciting. Instead of learning Chinese and Asian Wisdom in a classroom, I want to go to China. Instead of studying an anthropological view of Magic, Witchcraft, and Sorcery, I want to live in a pagan village. Instead of discussing Economic Problems, I want to work on economic solutions.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Dorm life isn't too exciting either. I'm stuck in a freshman hall filled with people who are more concerned with what color their comforters are rather than discussing where and how these dorm products were made. This is the first time that most students are feeling a sense of independence, since they are away from their parents, but I feel like I'm on lockdown. There are many rules to be followed, and the huge bureaucracy is impersonal and too orderly for me. Where's all the action? And I don't mean the flyer stuck under my door about the G-Spot Club - "If you can't find it, you won't cum!" Apparently there is a condom drop on one of the dance nights.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> What is this world I'm living in? Why are our youths being encouraged to focus on sex and partying rather than intellectual discussion? These of course are rhetorical questions. We all know that our culture has been methodically constructed. We, the masses, are trained to listen, accept, and certainly not question. Distractions have been placed in order to placate. Why complain when we are living comfortably? We have roofs over our heads and food in our bellies (at least for now). What we aren't realizing is that there is something else. I haven't found it yet, but I feel something stirring, something in my bones that's telling me there is more to life than being comfortable. I want strength, knowledge, and, most of all, value in my life.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> It seems that my view of working toward experiential learning is proving to be correct. It seems that university takes away the fun of learning, just as my high school did. It seems that students are here just to pass their classes, so that they can get a degree, and then get a job, to then be consumers just like the corporate and marketing industry would like us to.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> It seems that we are all running into a big hole - a hole that leaves us feeling empty inside and leaves our society nugatory.</span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span> </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Go sheeple, go!</span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511423270032181058" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tdpxnuN0Ov8/THyCQ2kXB0I/AAAAAAAAABA/H6SJvkgp_mw/s320/Sheeple-Pit-anim.gif" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-25238219193963097112010-08-27T23:37:00.008-04:002011-02-26T15:50:58.474-05:00The Night Before College<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">'Twas the night before college, when all through the house,</span></span></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I heard the crickets chirping, and maybe a field mouse</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">My clothes were all packed in the car with care</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">In hopes that I'd send most to Salvation Army, not wear</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I and my cat nestled all snug in my bed</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">With visions of planned landscapes and consumerism in my head</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">For I with my hopes for adventure and only a campus map</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Did not want to settle for this semester-long nap</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">When inside my brain there arose such a clatter</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I had to ask myself, "What's a matter?"</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">When all of a sudden it came like flash</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I want passion in my life, not just cash!</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">What am I doing? Living a lie?</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Going to college to be so bored, I'd cry?</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">When what to my wondering eyes should appear</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">The ghost of past, present, and future fiscal year!</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">It was Keynes, Friedman, and the Grim Reaper, you see</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">They said, "Go to college because no lunch is free!"</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">But I say, "No! We humans can change!</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">We can be more cooperative and no longer estrange!</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">We can learn by ourselves! We don't need you!</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">We don't need soaring debt from your financial coup!</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Now Mr. Reaper, you don't scare me!</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">It's the life in my years that will set me free!"</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">And aghast they leave with a poof</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I lay back down feeling quite aloof</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"Wow, I can't believe they just intruded in my room</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">They don't know how to treat a lady, I presume."</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">And then in a twinkling I heard on my door</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">A knock, knock along with a wild snore</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">The ghosts again, "Can we come in please?"</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">More polite this time, I let them in with ease</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Dressed in suits, with a white board and stick</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">They pulled out a statistical analysis and pic</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">A bundle of green, they held in their hands</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"It could all be yours if you go with the plan"</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">My eyes, how they twinkled, but with concern</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I had a few questions before I got burned</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"What is this - a bribe, a plea, a bargain?"</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"No, it's just some money to do the talkin'..."</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"This might work with someone else, but not me</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I am not that easily drafted, you see."</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"But look at this graph, you can make so much money</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">If only you go to college and follow the track, honey."</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"The track? How dare you fool me for a hamster?!</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I can make my own living without your greedy cancer!"</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">It spreads like a disease throughout the land</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">You get them while their young as if by command</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">But I am no fool, I will leave after a semester</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Put my toes in the water, but not be an investor</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">So I said goodnight to the ghosts of three</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Sent them away because I would not agree</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">They sprang to their Porsche with ballistic missile</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">And away they flew like the down of a thistle</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">But I heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"University for all and for all no human rights!"</span></span></div></div>Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-458987134480834355.post-24631131725209276922010-07-07T15:02:00.012-04:002012-11-11T13:18:18.371-05:00Coxsackie-Athens High School Valedictory Speech 2010<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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한국어 번역은 <a href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/40539491/Erica-Goldson-%EA%B3%A0%EB%93%B1%ED%95%99%EA%B5%90%EC%9D%98-%EC%A1%B8%EC%97%85-%EC%97%B0%EC%84%A4">여기를 클릭하십시오</a>.</div>
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.לנאום בתרגום לעברית, <a href="http://www.emetaheret.org.il/2011/07/23/%D7%AA%D7%9C%D7%9E%D7%99%D7%93%D7%94-%D7%9E%D7%A6%D7%98%D7%99%D7%99%D7%A0%D7%AA-%D7%91%D7%A0%D7%90%D7%95%D7%9D-%D7%A0%D7%92%D7%93-%D7%9E%D7%A2%D7%A8%D7%9B%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%97%D7%99%D7%A0%D7%95%D7%9A/">לחצו כאן</a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Here I Stand<br />
Erica Goldson</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;" /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span><br style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;" /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> There is a sto</span>ry of a young, but earnest Zen student who approached his teacher, and asked the Master, "If I work very hard and diligently, how long will it take for me to find Zen? The Master thought about this, then replied, "Ten years." The student then said, "But what if I work very, very hard and really apply myself to learn fast - How long then?" Replied the Master, "Well, twenty years." "But, if I </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">really, really </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> work at it, how long then?" asked the student. "Thirty years," replied the Master. "But, I do not understand," said the disappointed student. "At each time that I say I will work harder, you say it will take me longer. Why do you say that?" Replied the Master, "When you have one eye on the goal, you only have one eye on the path."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> This is the dilemma I've faced within the American education system. We are so focused on a goal, whether it be passing a test, or graduating as first in the class. However, in this way, we do not really learn. We do whatever it takes to achieve our original objective.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> Some of you may be thinking, “Well, if you pass a test, or become valedictorian, didn't you learn something? Well, yes, you learned something, but not all that you could have. Perhaps, you only learned how to memorize names, places, and dates to later on forget in order to clear your mind for the next test. School is not all that it can be. Right now, it is a place for most people to determine that their goal is to get out as soon as possible.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I am now accomplishing that goal. I am graduating. I should look at this as a positive experience, especially being at the top of my class. However, in retrospect, I cannot say that I am any more intelligent than my peers. I can attest that I am only the best at doing what I am told and working the system. Yet, here I stand, and I am supposed to be proud that I have completed this period of indoctrination. I will leave in the fall to go on to the next phase expected of me, in order to receive a paper document that certifies that I am capable of work. But I contest that I am a human being, a thinker, an adventurer – not a worker. A worker is someone who is trapped within repetition – a slave of the system set up before him. But now, I have successfully shown that I was the best slave. I did what I was told to the extreme. While others sat in class and doodled to later become great artists, I sat in class to take notes and become a great test-taker. While others would come to class without their homework done because they were reading about an interest of theirs, I never missed an assignment. While others were creating music and writing lyrics, I decided to do extra credit, even though I never needed it. So, I wonder, why did I even want this position? Sure, I earned it, but what will come of it? When I leave educational institutionalism, will I be successful or forever lost? I have no clue about what I want to do with my life; I have no interests because I saw every subject of study as work, and I excelled at every subject just for the purpose of excelling, not learning. And quite frankly, now I'm scared.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> John Taylor Gatto, a retired school teacher and activist critical of compulsory schooling, asserts, “We could encourage the best qualities of youthfulness – curiosity, adventure, resilience, the capacity for surprising insight simply by being more flexible about time, texts, and tests, by introducing kids into truly competent adults, and by giving each student what autonomy he or she needs in order to take a risk every now and then. But we don't do that.” Between these cinderblock walls, we are all expected to be the same. We are trained to ace every standardized test, and those who deviate and see light through a different lens are worthless to the scheme of public education, and therefore viewed with contempt.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> H. L. Mencken wrote in The American Mercury for April 1924 that the aim of public education is not</span></span><br />
<ul><ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">to fill the young of the species with knowledge and awaken their intelligence. ... Nothing could be further from the truth. The aim ... is simply to reduce as many individuals as possible to the same safe level, to breed and train a standardized citizenry, to put down dissent and originality. That is its aim in the United States. (Gatto)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></ul>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> To illustrate this idea, doesn't it perturb you to learn about the idea of “critical thinking.” Is there really such a thing as “uncritically thinking?” To think is to process information in order to form an opinion. But if we are not critical when processing this information, are we really thinking? Or are we mindlessly accepting other opinions as truth?</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">This was happening to me, and if it wasn't for the rare occurrence of an avant-garde tenth grade English teacher, Donna Bryan, who allowed me to open my mind and ask questions before accepting textbook doctrine, I would have been doomed. I am now enlightened, but my mind still feels disabled. I must retrain myself and constantly remember how insane this ostensibly sane place really is.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> And now here I am in a world guided by fear, a world suppressing the uniqueness that lies inside each of us, a world where we can either acquiesce to the inhuman nonsense of corporatism and materialism or insist on change. We are not enlivened by an educational system that clandestinely sets us up for jobs that could be automated, for work that need not be done, for enslavement without fervency for meaningful achievement. We have no choices in life when money is our motivational force. Our motivational force ought to be passion, but this is lost from the moment we step into a system that trains us, rather than inspires us.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> We are more than robotic bookshelves, conditioned to blurt out facts we were taught in school. We are all very special, every human on this planet is so special, so aren't we all deserving of something better, of using our minds for innovation, rather than memorization, for creativity, rather than futile activity, for rumination rather than stagnation? We are not here to get a degree, to then get a job, so we can consume industry-approved placation after placation. There is more, and more still.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> The saddest part is that the majority of students don't have the opportunity to reflect as I did. The majority of students are put through the same brainwashing techniques in order to create a complacent labor force working in the interests of large corporations and secretive government, and worst of all, they are completely unaware of it. I will never be able to turn back these 18 years. I can't run away to another country with an education system meant to enlighten rather than condition. This part of my life is over, and I want to make sure that no other child will have his or her potential suppressed by powers meant to exploit and control. We are human beings. We are thinkers, dreamers, explorers, artists, writers, engineers. We are anything we want to be - but only if we have an educational system that supports us rather than holds us down. A tree can grow, but only if its roots are given a healthy foundation.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> For those of you out there that must continue to sit in desks and yield to the authoritarian ideologies of instructors, do not be disheartened. You still have the opportunity to stand up, ask questions, be critical, and create your own perspective. Demand a setting that will provide you with intellectual capabilities that allow you to expand your mind instead of directing it. Demand that you be interested in class. Demand that the excuse, “You have to learn this for the test” is not good enough for you. Education is an excellent tool, if used properly, but focus more on learning rather than getting good grades.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> For those of you that work within the system that I am condemning, I do not mean to insult; I intend to motivate. You have the power to change the incompetencies of this system. I know that you did not become a teacher or administrator to see your students bored. You cannot accept the authority of the governing bodies that tell you what to teach, how to teach it, and that you will be punished if you do not comply. Our potential is at stake.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> For those of you that are now leaving this establishment, I say, do not forget what went on in these classrooms. Do not abandon those that come after you. We are the new future and we are not going to let tradition stand. We will break down the walls of corruption to let a garden of knowledge grow throughout America. Once educated properly, we will have the power to do anything, and best of all, we will only use that power for good, for we will be cultivated and wise. We will not accept anything at face value. We will ask questions, and we will demand truth.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> So, here I stand. I am not standing here as valedictorian by myself. I was molded by my environment, by all of my peers who are sitting here watching me. I couldn't have accomplished this without all of you. It was all of you who truly made me the person I am today. It was all of you who were my competition, yet my backbone. In that way, we are all valedictorians. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> I am now supposed to say farewell to this institution, those who maintain it, and those who stand with me and behind me, but I hope this farewell is more of a “see you later” when we are all working together to rear a pedagogic movement. But first, let's go get those pieces of paper that tell us that we're smart enough to do so!</span></span><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"Graduating with honors will provide many advantages when applying for a <a href="http://www.waldenu.edu/Degree-Programs/Doctorate.htm">doctoral degree</a>, as it's an obvious demonstration of your capabilities as a student and a professional."</span></span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></i></div>
Erica Goldsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18180224676418721027noreply@blogger.com410