You know how much I like linking you to cool things

Melissa has stated in the past that she always clicks the links I post because they tend to be so good. Just saying.

Why Math is taught in school.

Living in America

"Home."

How was Mexico?
Are you glad to be home?
Do you miss Mexico?
What's different between Mexico and the United States?
What did you learn while you were there?
Are you experiencing reverse culture shock?

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I. Don't. Know.

"You've changed in ways that nobody can expect or understand, and your friends are more interested in their breakfast than in hearing about it." Clare is an absolute Godsend in this house. Not only does she show concern for me, listen to me, and understand me better than I do myself: she does it all while having a British accent.

I'm not sure whether I want my friends to be more interested in my stories than their breakfast. The fact is, I don't know what to stay. I'm sure I have a story to tell, but I don't have the words to tell it, or the patience to look for them. I don't really understand what I'm feeling. I don't know if I miss Mexico or if I'm glad to be back. I've been pushing myself beyond my limits, doing everything I possibly can for fear of wasting my time... or maybe for fear of stopping to reflect and realizing how unhappy I am.

What I'm really dreading, though, is going back to Manchester. I've always been ready to go back to school at the end of a summer... even in high school, which as some know was a pretty bad time for me. But now, I don't want to go back. I don't want to be there, at all. I don't want to see all the people I left behind. And honestly, I would not be going back if it weren't for this scholarship... I feel like I'm obligated now. Like I would be an awful person if I left Manchester now, even if I worked to pay back the money.

What is all this? I don't know. I'm not liking it.

More required reading!

I firmly believe that everyone planning on voting in the upcoming election should be reading FactCheck.org on a regular basis. They call the candidates out on the misinformation they love to spread. And I'll happily note that, true to form, the Republicans tend to be a lot deeper in it than the Democrats.

Summer dreaming

I'm aware of my lack of posting frequency... I've been devoting most of my blogging energy to my summer internship blog because that one's an obligation.

Stacey visited last night/today!  I was pretty stoked about that... we make our ways from Mexico and Korea to meet in Indianapolis.

Tomorrow starts the very last week of the regular program, after which Casey and I will have our own nine-bedroom house.  We're already planning which rooms and bathrooms we're going to lay claim to.

No further comments at this time.

Space

Sometimes I live in the abandon, the vacuum that happens when all other life is pulled from a room, a conscientious soul extinguishes the light and I am all that is left, sitting on the dark carpet with near-invisible smiles and anarchy signs drawn in the fibers, peacefully awaiting the approach of the dogs that were once wolves circling in the shadows just beyond the recognizable.  The abandon is a respite and a curse at the same time, because nobody seems willing to share my solitude.  All paths lead away from me.

Kapoomf

Nobody loves on my blog no more.

Today I really coulda punched a kid in the mouf, which would have been hella ironic cuz of the "no fighting" lesson we's tryin' to give.

I felt like not writing properly.  I don't know why.

Yesterday I blew up about someone and remembered how witty I am when I'm really ticked off.  Also, I need to tell a different someone to be nice to me before I blow up at her.

Today I was driving home and I saw a guy standing by the road with a sign advertising $5 pizzas with no wait.  Domino's advertising strategy, while simple, cost me five dollars.  But it also gave me my next two meals.

Delusions

I wonder are you proud, cowering beneath the stairs as an unseen foe that you probably just made up walks the halls and keeps you from poking your privileged head out and seeing what the world actually looks like beyond your cute little corner with a comfy chair and a TV that only shows the McDonald's channel.  You hide from the truth, or pretend not to see it with its chewed up styrofoam cup jingling with what to you might as well be pocket lint because you're as likely to lose it between the cushions of your world as you are to get any use out of it, or you say that you don't want to make things worse as an excuse to refuse to make anything better, or you just flat out deny it by turning tragedies into numbers.  Drink the poison and eat the masks and pretend you live somewhere you don't and maybe the truth will go away.  The lie is better anyway.

Schools, not missiles

Read this one too.

Another NYTimes article

I am interested in law.  I am very interested in international law.  And I am absolutely fascinated by the jumble of criminal activity that is the Bush White House.

That is not a political statement.  This is separate of my political opinions, which are largely conciliatory these days in regards to President Bush.  It's just plain fact that the current administration is suspended by a web of misinformation and crime, and the web is coming apart strand by strand.

Anyway, here's a great New York Times article about this stuff.

Family and personality

"You and your mother carry yourselves in the same way," Clare told me over watery American beer. "You don't have to be talking or doing anything to establish your presence in the room."

"It's a good quality for a pacifist," she added.

I thought that was cool.

Accidental social commentary

Seen at a Salvation Army women's home, summer 2007.  Documented with camera phone.

In the last ten and a half hours

1. I biked to the BMV and renewed my driver's license.
2. I got my hair cut.
3. I closed a bank account.
4. I played my guitar.
5. I went to the dentist.
6. I saw Indiana Jones with Dad.
7. I had pizza and beer with my family.
8. I played X-box.
9. I got coffee with Liz.
10. I went to the bar with Andrew.

And, for good measure, 10.5: I wrote this blog.