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Tuesday, July 31, 2007

On Causing Offense

My Dear Reader,

I recently realized that an old coworker of mine probably hates my guts. The evidence, I admit, is circumstantial but compelling. In the interest of anonymity I will not go into any further details, except to say that this coworker is someone that I hold in high regard, which means that I'm completely heartbroken over the matter. I'm pretty sure that there are a lot of bad, annoying, and/or disgusting people out there who think of me as the bane of their existence, and that kind of hatred doesn't really bother me. But when good, honest, and decent people hold me in contempt, I have a sudden urge to crawl under a rock and wither away.

I suppose that the level of goodness in the person shouldn't really be a factor in how I respond to this kind of stuff at all, since I am after all only a human being who uses fairly superficial means to determine how "good" a fellow mortal is. I guess that the reason that "goodness" matters to me has something to do with the fact that "bad" people give me the opportunity to shift the blame away from myself. After all, they're probably just the kind of people who would hate me no matter what I do in an attempt to distract themselves from facing their own miserable consequences to the horrible ways they led their lives. Bad equals them equals guilty.

If a good person hates me though, I'm completely trapped. Not only does that loathing have to be a result of something I did, but whatever I did must have been pretty darn awful, as good people only get upset when they have really good reasons, right? I might be able to justify (read: rationalize) doing something to offend a bad person, but I'm the kind of person who works hard to be good, so I'm not about to go around purposefully ruining the lives of people who don't even deserve what's coming to them.

In fact, since I'm the kind of person who tries really hard to always be polite and friendly, I've decided that there are only two* ways that I can actually cause offense in others (offense here meaning whatever make them hate my guts):

1. They are too easily offended

2. I'm stupid

Now, Gentle Reader, as you can see there is still one option that places the blame on others and one that places the blame squarely on me. Option one leads back to my previous argument about bad people, and the other is, I think, the only way a person who tries to be good could manage to offend good people. The problem with this, of course, that I don't think that there's much I can do in the short term to stop being stupid. I mean, I've been working on decreasing my stupidity since first grade (isn't that the objective of juvenile education?), and after all this time I've still got a long way to go. Does this mean that I'm going to go on for the rest of my life unintentionally offending those I most respect until I can manage to lower my stupidity to an acceptable level? I certainly hope not, and I certainly hope that former coworker of mine can find it in his or her heart to forgive my stupidity, because I know that in this specific case the offense was completely unintentional.

I guess I should just be more careful about the things I let slip out of my mouth in the first place.
Best wishes, regards, and forgiveness,

-Cecily Jane

*I almost put in misunderstandings as a third option, but I think that a misunderstanding in this case would have to be a result of either number one or number two.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Facebook Friends

Dear Reader,

I joined Facebook.com about two years ago because a friend from high school wanted her profile to show how she had a friend from my university. So I joined, more for her benefit than for anything else, figuring that it was important to her and not that much of an inconvenience to me. Now my life will never be the same.

Nothing really changed at first. I checked my profile every month or so, and was pleased with my one official Facebook friend and my lack of publicly displayed personal information. But when Facebook started picking up and I realized that it was becoming a major trend among those around me, I decided to use my profile to help satisfy my constant and inherent need to expose the inner parts of my soul to my fellow human beings. And as I started editing that, I noticed that being Facebook friends with people meant that I had special access to my friends' pictures, thoughts, and activities like I never had before. I also found that it gave me a sense of being connected with people, which is really nice considering the transient environment I live in and the way the people are always floating in and out of my life. So I started getting really into the trend that was sweeping the college world, and following the policy I have on following trends*, I enjoyed every minute of it.

But despite all of the joys that Facebook can bring, there seems to be an inherent flaw in the design: it puts a quantitative quality on friendship. One of the first things you see on a Facebook profile is the number of people that have officially networked with the profile of owner, and by the way it's worded ("Cecily has 5 friends," etc.) it kind of sounds like a friendship isn't really official or even real until Facebook knows about it. And who wants the world to know that he or she only has 5 real friends? So naturally, I wanted to officially register as many friendships as I could, and it's kind of turned into an obsession. Sometimes I have secret competitions with a friend or two, attempting to have more friends than they do at any given time. I never tell them about the competition in order to keep my advantage. Through my efforts I've managed to amass a sizable amount of people who are willing to publicly admit that they know me.

And yet, after everything that Facebook is and claims to be, there is still an undeniable emptiness as I sit at a computer and check up on my friends electronically. Facebook is just one member of a long line of technological developments made with the intent of keeping people in touch (a line that includes everything from telephones to instant messaging), and yet it seems to me that none of them can hold a candle to the kind of human interaction that you get from old-fashioned things like sitting in the living room or eating at the table. Ironically enough, it is perhaps the present preoccupation of things like phones and Facebook that make face-to-face friendships suddenly so unmanageable. Or maybe technology made for communication is simply trying to compensate for the technology that keeps people apart. It makes me wonder if our ancestors who lived in huts and villages managed to have a precious something that the modern world can't quite grasp. I guess it's impossible to tell, but somehow people still find friends and fall in love and fight for each other whether they're on Facebook or not. Perhaps there's still some hope.

Regards, best wishes, and friendship,

-Cecily Jane

* So here's my trend-following policy: I will go along with the crowd when and if I feel like the crowd has a good thing going for it. Basically, I'm not afraid of being in the minority or the majority; I just do what I think is best.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

On Being Self-conscious

Dear Reader,

Yes, even the best of us have to deal with being self conscious every once in a while. Let's just say that when you're the middle of a sister sandwich where the sisters on both sides are a lot more into high heeled shoes than you are, things come up. Like when you're leaving the house and they ask you how you could possibly go out in public like that. I guess I was kind of asking for it, being a person who hates sitting still, meaning I rarely have patience for such trivial things as hair clips and lipstick. The sentiments get a little boring after a while, but I listen to be polite.

You know, it's kind of funny how we are constantly bombarded with conflicting messages regarding the subject of outward appearance, because people constantly tell you that it doesn't matter at all, until of course, they realize that you don't exactly want to uphold the status quo. Then they get hysterical and jump all around proclaiming how you're ruining their lives. It's pretty ridiculous, when you think about it, and the comments plant a seed of self-doubt that festers and grows until life just gets harder. Then you have a choice: you can give in and become part of the cult of the physical appearance, or you can go on being who you are, which is kind of like walking into a thunderstorm with pounding rain and whipping wind. I gets harder to keep going with every step, but you know what would await you should you seek shelter. It seems noble at first, or possibly romantic, but after a while you're cold and you just want a place to be safe. But if you're not careful, you'll just open yourself up to things that are a lot less comfortable. Criticism can be a powerful thing, because even though you have two eyes and you know that you aren't as visually offensive as everyone claims, the doubt still creeps in and it comes to the point where you just don't look in mirrors anymore, because if everyone is saying the same thing it must be true, right? Maybe you just don't know how to look, and it's best to keep the whole ordeal out of sight and mind.

The worst part, though, is the incessant kind of paranoia that greets you at every turn, as the seeds of self-doubt have turned into a kind of parasite that sucks at your personal sense of self-worth, creating a feeling that is so piercing and relentless that people die trying to silence it. Before that happens, though, you see everyone as a judge, and every stray glance is an act of condemnation. It's quite unbearable. I myself eventually found an escape through my Saviour Jesus Christ, and was very literally healed through the power of His atonement, but there are so many people out there who don't know how to access that power and even more who don't realize the impact unkind words can have on the soul of a child of God.

And even when you get over the worst of it, there is always a part of you that still looks for the judge in the eyes of the people you meet, no matter how many times you tell yourself that it's all in your head and that you are worth something. To combat this new foe, I found that all I had to do was develop a thick skin and a good sense of humor. The results were slow in coming, but eventually they gave me enough courage to start looking in mirrors again, a great victory on my part. It's the kind of battle that you would think a person who prides herself on their individuality wouldn't have to face, but being an individual is sometimes the hardest battle of all.
Anyway, I've found that being self-conscious, when you look at it, is a completely unrealistic way to live, because you know who you are and people today are way too worried about socks and sandals than they are about things that will still matter five, ten, or a million years in the future. Once you know who you are and who you need to be, you know that self-confidence is not only something that you deserve, but something you've earned through being kind and staying clean. So when those kind of feeling show up and threaten to ruin everything that I've worked so hard to achieve, I realize that self-doubt is in reality a very silly thing, and that silly things deserve to be dealt with in a silly manner (sense of humor, remember?). So I've come up with my own little solution to self-conscious feelings. When I feel that people are looking at me funny, I just tell myself that I must be purple. And I can't blame them, after all, I'd probably give a funny look to a purple person as they passed by. Then I tell myself that I need to work on that, because now I know how it feels. And somehow that helps, mostly because it gives me some kind of moral high horse to ride until I'm out of sight, because after all, at least I'm not racist against the color purple.

Praying helps, too.

Regards, best wishes, and self-worth,

-Cecily Jane

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

MTC Cafeteria: the Musical

Dear Reader,

I sing a lot. And I mean, a lot. I sing everywhere and every time it is on the fringe of social acceptibility. In class? No. In the elevator? No. In the elevator all by myself? YES. To give you an idea of the magnitude I'm talking about here, I'll just say that when PetiteSoeur had to create a coat of arms for our family in fourth grade, she had to create a family motto: "No singing at the dinner table." And yes, that was all me. It's pretty much turned into one of Padre's core beliefs, and nothing really describes my family better, I think. So it should come as no surprise when I tell you that I sing very frequently at work. I sing everything from show tunes to punk rock, but since I believe that music should have the ability to transcend mere entertainment and describe the human experience (or at least my human experience), I have been known to make up songs on the spot about whatever I feel like singing about at the moment.

Well, since I've been working at one place for a while, these occasional songs have started to pile up, and I have imagined that these songs are more than just a pleasant way to pass the time, but that they have the ability to come together to tell a legendary story of tragedy and forbidden love. And thus I have conceived my latest genius idea in the form of an epic story called (dun dun DUN) MTC Cafeteria: the Musical. The story follows a young girl in the dishroom who, finding herself falling madly in love with a boy from the line*, must decide on how to balance her passion and her plastic apron. The score is already in the process of being composed, with songs including such titles as:

Silverware

I Hate This Stupid Tray Cart

Just a Cashier

(It's Called) The Sack Line

Take out the Trash

There's Always Cereal

My Mother Married a Juice Checker (I Can't Believe It)

And Much, Much, More!

MTC Cafeteria: the Musical; an epic story of heart, hope, and hoagies. Coming soon to an off-off-Broadway production near you. Or something.

Best wishes, regards, and a healthy dose of sillyness,

-Cecily Jane

*line people are the people who work outside of the kitchen, serving food and the like. They are considered by some to be better than people who work in the dishroom. Hence the controversy.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Oh, the Irony (#1)

My Dear Readers,

I'm an English major, so I spend most of my time analyzing literature, which is one of the reasons I'm an English major in the first place. In class, I feel as if I'm the one who raises her hand and points out the irony in just about everything. You'd be surprised at how much there is out there. With that in mind, I thought why stop at the lives of fictional characters? Why not go a step further and examine the irony in my own life? So, as an intermittent series, I would like to occasionally indulge myself and spend an entry on irony in my life.

The current example of irony that I find placed before me involves my MP3 player. That's right, I don't depend on Apple products for my sense of self-worth. You should envy my defiance, Gentle Reader. If you only knew the sense of liberation.

Anyway, my MP3 player of an unnamed brand has served me well in the year I've had it. It's a life saver on my 45 minute walks to work and all the dead time in between. Lines at the food court just don't seem as long when Bread is whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Recently, however, its been throwing temper tantrums that are really getting on my nerves. I keep reloading the OS (firmware) and drivers and all the other stuff, but every time I do, the problem just keeps getting worse, not to mention the issues it's having with Windows Media Player 11. Sometimes it will give me the silent treatment and freeze in the middle of songs, but mostly it freezes as it's starting up, which is incredibly annoying. I suppose it's not really the silent treatment, because it goes through a series of chromatic beeps which play over and over, but not through the headphones. Eventually the beeping stops, and last week that meant that it would start starting up. This week, however, the beeping will stop and nothing will change. Even when it actually starts up, it doesn't last for long; it will freeze again or reset without shutting down properly. When it does that, it doesn't save what was played during the last session, and it starts with the same song every single time. So I've basically listened to nothing but the Beatles' Help! album for the past two weeks, and I used to like those songs.

Herein comes the irony: as I type this entry, I'm attempting to get my MP3 player to a point where I can reload the firmware . . . again. This entails turning the player on, waiting until the beeps stop, and then taking the battery out and doing it again if it doesn't start up. If you can imagine how frustrating that it, you can appreciate how I am playing Cake on my computer just to drown out those pesky beeps, which I'm actually listening for. The whole point of MP3 players and Walkmans and the like is that you can only hear them through the headphones, right? This is just stupid. And it's not like I don't know anything about computers, either. I'm not a expert or anything, but I know what CPU stands for and I can do some fairly decent HTML programming. And it's not even bulky enough to hurl at anything.

It's times like these that I wish I was dating a Computer Science major.

Regards, best wishes, and firmware,

-Cecily Jane

P.S. I'll accept any help or advice anyone would like to offer.