note to self

"If we truly love people, we will desire for them far more than it is within our power to give them, and this will lead us to prayer." -Richard J. Foster

Definitely Fancy

I am fascinated with words. Endlessly fascinated, to tell you the truth. I love to know every definition and etymology. As a result, I am going to begin making semi-regular posts dedicated to this passion (?) of mine: words.

Today's word is fancy. Certain words appeal to me because of their multifacetedness. Fancy is one such word.

Fancy [fan-see] (Some but not all of the following is taken from Dictionary.com)

The most common use of this word is as an adjective.

Definition: ornamental; decorative; not plain: a cake with a fancy icing.

  
It can also be a noun.

Definition: desire; preference; whim: he took a fancy to driving in the country.

It makes a great interjection.

Definition: An exclamation of mild surprise: Fancy that!

But where this word really goes bonkers is when it is used as a verb.

Definition: to take a liking; to form a conception; to believe without being absolutely sure or certain; to breed to develop a special type of animal.

For each of the previous definitions I used one example which summed up the most common uses of the word. That is just not adequate when this word is used as a verb.

I fancy jello pudding. I would fancy some right now as a matter of fact.

I fancy myself quite the nautical expert. (That is, based on the fact that I study sailing and navigation.)

I fancy you are some kind of robot. (That is, assuming without knowledge.)

I fancy animals. (I don't know; I mean, I had never even seen this definition before. I guess it means I breed them. Like if I bought a male and a female gazelle and made such conditions as would lead to them making more gazelles. I guess that would mean I fancy them. But gosh it sounds weird.)

Isn't this a ludicrously versatile word?! And it's not even two different words which happen to be spelled and pronounced the same. Oh no. It is one and it is many. Maybe there's some kind of analogy for the Trinity in here. Or maybe that's heresy. I won't press it.

My Internal Clock (Fancies Carsten Tice)

I have a fine-tuned internal clock. When I want to take a power nap in the afternoon, I will wake up precisely 20 minutes after I lie down. When I set an alarm for the morning--regardless of what time--I will wake up 1-10 minutes before the alarm 90% of the time. So long as I have a definite idea of the time I need to be awake, I typically will be.

And then there are Mondays. On Monday mornings I am scheduled to begin work at 7:00am. It takes me fifteen minutes to eat breakfast, ten minutes to shower, five minutes to shave/brush teeth/deodorize, and ten minutes to get to work. That means I should be out of bed by 6:20am to make sure I can accomplish everything and be to work on time. I set my alarm to make sure I am up by 6:15am. However, for whatever reason (it's neither here nor there) my body has decided that I should wake up at 5:00am. No matter when I set my alarm, it seems, I will wake up at five on Mondays.

There is a definite benefit here, however, and I believe it is partly to blame. If I had nothing better to do with my morning I would definitely try to go back to bed; but waiting at my place of work is a groggy, loopy, eccentric and fantastic* individual named Carsten Tice who is counting down the minutes until the end of her** grave shift, and as soon as I am awake enough to produce a coherent thought it comes to mind that I could either a) attempt to go back to sleep or b) go to work early and be entertained, encouraged, and overall made a better person. Clearly the latter wins out. Plus it's an excuse to have doughnuts and hot chocolate for breakfast. There is no negative here.

This blog could alternatively have been titled, "How I Spent My Morning (Minus the Doughnuts)."



*I realize that my choice of this word is precarious. To call a person fantastic does carry a certain weight, but based on these synonyms I believe I am fully justified. 95% of the words in that link accurately describe Carsten Tice. Ignore all words with negative human connotations (e.g. artificial, massive, and grotesque).

**For those who have never come in contact with the name, Carstens can be found in both the male and female variety (much like gazelles and other animals). This particular one is female.

Statal Inception

Have you ever watched a movie that so engrossed you that it took you time to recover from the state of mind brought on by the film?

For example, when I saw the original Pirates of the Caribbean for the first (and probably second and third) time, I walked out with a swagger. I was under no illusion that I was Captain Jack Sparrow (I'm not so far gone as that--at least not yet), but I was completely taken captive by the uniqueness and winsomeness of his character to the extent that I adopted his mannerisms for about thirty minutes after we left the theater. (My girlfriend was kind to put up with me that day.)

In a similar way when I first saw The Dark Knight I walked away feeling that the world was a sinister place beyond hope; it was not until I got home and was back in my apartment that I smiled at the charade. In this movie it was not a character which was so alluring but the theme.

So tonight I saw Inception. The result? My mind was complete mush for a good half hour or so.

Have you had experiences like these? What film did it for you? What was the resulting state or feeling?

Free Verse

About a month ago I attended something my church does on a regular basis called Open Studio. Here artists of all types can come and practice their craft and collaborate with fellow artists. Once there I realized that I had a very hard time relating to the artistic types present--those free to express themselves through unfamiliar mediums. Someone was drumming who had never held a stick; someone was painting who had never held a brush. This concept was foreign and scary to me, but in the spirit of things I pulled out my moleskine and began to write. This liberating expression was the result.


"I'm Missing The Point"

Tat. Beat. Smash. Miss.
Crash. Tat. Beat. Nonsense.
You flail like a child. You care like a child.
What I (boom boom tat). What I think does not matter to you.
Your tempo is deviant. You skipped a beat.
I'm missing the point.

Color. Color in my mind. Color in abstract expression.
Blue, teal, brown, black. These are not art.
From your mind, out your hand, dipped in true color, you express your thoughts that words fail to represent.
Anger, fear, calm, bliss. A beautiful afternoon.
I am limited. You are free.
My words fail.

I must be right. It must be flawless.
In silent corners where no one sees--for goodness' sake they'd better not hear--there I will compose for you a symphony.
It will have major and minor. It will follow the rules. It will be right.
You will tell me I'm missing the point.

"What do you feel? How do you feel?"
Beige. Diminished. Almost there. Wide-brush.
No. Minor four. A reddish green--ugh. That's brown.
Are you sure? Is everyone equipped for this?

Oh don't read this. It's wrong. I really shouldn't have written it. Tear it out if you find it.
The best thing you could do right now is forget about it and really never bring it up because I just exposed something silly and I think I'm safer just reading a book or something.
Or composing my silent symphony. Just don't tell anyone.



Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Getting Out By Diving In

Everything in me wants to stop writing. "Give me time. Let me think, let me edit." I know that, given a day or two, I could present you thoughts and feelings that would reflect someone a little more clearheaded and articulate. They would be crafted to show a down-to-earth individual of whom it could be said, "He is sensible and well thought-out."

Yeah, but anyone given 48 hours to present on a topic would be expected of as much. In the end what was written would represent thirty percent of the person's true thoughts and seventy percent of what the individual believed his audience wanted to hear.

Take a look at this counterexample to my point. Here is a journalist who wrote his honest opinion about the 2010 Electronic Entertainment Expo without regard for his audience. The author spent three days at the expo, took a day off, and then wrote his article. (As far as modern journalism goes, that's as much objective distance as you're allowed before your topic has become passe.) Through sitting in those showrooms, and I'm sure he did a little online reading of his own as well, he must have known his audience. Now, if you have not already done so, read the comments beneath the article. Poor Chris--he got lambasted for writing an article which did not appeal to his audience. Original thinking be damned.

I got off topic, but pressing on will actually help to make my point. I am paralyzed by the thought of writing something which might not appeal to you. You, of course, are rather ambiguous, and that's the real issue here. As soon as I begin writing to you, I remember that you might read this too. And then there's you, and the thought of you reading anything I write makes me feel a little sick inside.

To put this more negatively (and accurately), I am a people pleaser. I feel like I just made my initial introduction at an AA meeting.

The purpose of this blog is to share. I want to share my thoughts. I have two hopeful outcomes for this: 1) I need to learn to be honest. In my attempts to hide my true thoughts and feelings I have done you as much of a disservice as I have done myself. 2) I want to know what I think. I have kept this up so long and so determinedly that there are many areas in which I have not allowed myself time to stop and ask, "How do I feel about this?" So, that's why I'm here.

Future posts will not be so self-deprecating and awkward. Except maybe the next one. If the operation goes as planned, this will be your average journal/blog about my daily life and musings. But this is unfamiliar territory for me, so I really shouldn't be making any promises :)