After waking up at 5:15am, . . . and then turning off the alarm clock only to fall easily back asleep for what I hoped would only be ten minutes (but actually turned out to be forty-five minutes!) I walked down the still dark hallway from my cornered room in a still semi-drowsily fashion, to the silent and empty kitchen, to whip myself somethin’ to eat.
I had the wheatiest of breakfasts if I may say: sugar-free apple cinnamon oatmeal with left over frosted mini wheats, bite size, (whatever’s left at the bottom of the ceareal bag) – yes, the sugar in this cereal totally cancelled out the sugar-free-ness of the oatmeal packet (guilty as charged for wanting something sweet in the morning – like the sweet, little nap after the alarm clock went off!) – with even more cinnamon in the form of extremely fine grandules, blue berries and lots of fat-free milk. Me loves me some milk, ever since my mom got me addicted to it. Oh yeah, the wheat germ!
I felt this breakfast was the best way to prepare myself for the first day of classes, granted I don’t have any today for this week only. But I still chose to go to school, carpooling with Ate Sherry and Steph, just to re-familiarize myself with everything I had so eagerly forgotten when the motions of summer break were overtaking my zealous self.
With the start of school signifying the end of summer break, I must look back and see if I accomplished any goals I had set for myself at the beginning to middle of summer break. If I’m not mistaken, my goals were:
1. Learn to drive. If I do, my dad promised to get me double bass kick pedals for my drum set. Digididigididigididigididigidi. That’s how they’ll sounds like, except with a deep tone.
2. Make at least one drum cover to post on youtube. Also, continue practicing/learning the drums.
3. Make at least one piano cover to post on youtube. Also, memorize the scales (I haven’t memorized all of them yet, if that even interests you, I don’t know).
4. Improve in tennis.
And the verdict? I learned to drive and my road test is on September 22. I’m thinking I’ll not get double bass kick pedals because I had bought cymbals in advance instead (right now, the cymbals are more essential to my kit than the kick pedals), although I had bought the cymbals with my money from my savings account. Nope, I didn’t do a drum cover, because I can’t record anything, at the moment. But I’ve been practicing all summer. I did in fact make a piano cover, but it’s in Ate Sherry’s laptop and she’s doesn’t know how to put it on youtube and neither do I . . . and nope, I didn’t memorize the scales. Yes, in my opinion, I did improve in tennis.
But my summer was more than just these goals, no matter how much I talk about them. I had so many good times, just chillin’ at home at night with my parents, watching rented movies from our public library, (sci-fi and scary movies). The last movie we watched was The Prestige. It is now my new favorite movie. Watching scary movies with Kuya and Liz is especially fun. Man do they love scary movies; I bet you they’ve watched all the scary movies you can think of. I also loved the loaded weekends spent with Kuya and Steph, playing basketball, tennis and running. Oh, and that one random night dancing with them to club-like music from my keyboard in our den. Steph’s got some moves. Yes, I actually did enjoy driving my mom around to all her errands when she couldn’t because she had hurt her knee; that was how I learned to drive and it was good timing too because it’s about time I learn.
So while it seems that I didn’t fully accomplish some of my goals, I don’t mind it at all because what really matters is that I made the most out of my summer and from the looks of it, I’d say I did!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
School's a-comin' =(
So what’s been happening? Well, I finished my junior year in college and in just a few days, I’m going to embark in my senior year in college, and with a teacher whom I don’t really like, but am forced to learn from nevertheless. I will forever dislike her -- sorry ma’am, it’s a personality thing. I never really thought you liked me anyway, but thanks for accepting me into the program, you don’t know how much that means to me; heck, it’s because I always thought you could care less about me and might have even thought had no potential in your class (I know I didn’t impress you one bit). But you still accepted me into the teaching program. I don’t know if it was my grades for every other class other than the one I had with you that made you turn, ever so delicately and unexpectedly for me, for I certainly didn’t shine very well whenever you tested me in your class. I made a fool out of myself in my shy ignorance and inexperience compared to all the other English teacher wannabe’s who were already ahead of me in the game (they were all already in the program whereas I wasn’t yet at the time because I had applied late. That just means I’m going to graduate an extra semester late). Or maybe it was pity that led your mind toward my acceptance? What did Will say from Fresh Prince? He was always behind, rollerblading with one skate but then the Banks family helped him with another. I guess I should say thanks but I know you still hate me for Lord knows what reason. Darn, I will never know. Perhaps our student-teacher relationship will mend itself in due time; come on, I’ve got three more semesters and then grad school for my masters.
So anyway, besides her, I want to talk about two other professors whom I love for their ways of teaching. They are Professor Haralson and Professor Scheckel. I think they are the best professors I’ve had in Stony Brook because I love their teaching methods (not to hard and yet not too easy) and I love their enthusiasm in literature and their entertaining personalities.
You know what Professor Haralson did on the first day of school last semester? It was raining and he came in with a big, yellow raincoat matched with what looked like a fisherman’s rubber boots and a huge opened umbrella. He walked down the aisles of desks shaking everyone’s hand, engaging in small talk around the whole room with each student he passed by. Then he made a sarcastic joke about the lousy weather while standing on top of his desk, still carrying the opened umbrella, that is of course until he threw it across the floor. Did I mention that he is quite an old man? Probably in his high fifties. I’ve taken his several of his courses before. The semester before last, you know what he did on the day of our final? He wore a Hawaiian shirt (with sunglasses hanging from the collar) with white shorts and sandals, all accompanied with a hat that looked like a sombrero. He wanted us to finish the final already so he can sit in the sand grading whatever bs we had come up with (it must have amused him; he’s a light grader, which is also why I keep taking his classes) during those last two hours of his class sitting for the final essay. What did my teaching all add up to? -- I bet he was asking himself that while enjoying the summer beach.
It was not only his personality that kept me coming for more, it was also the material he taught. He made me absolutely love contemporary short stories. He made me love short stories period. And how? Being an old man with many years of experience in teaching college students, he learned how to keep us entertained. He made us read short stories with sexual content in it. I know it’s kind of implicit that most college students and really, come to think about it, teenagers and adolescents, think about sex a lot more than older adults. I must admit this with my own experience backing me up. And it wasn’t totally rated R because it was literature; there was substance in addition to that sexual content. Like a mother giving her baby medicine in their apple sauce. It’s a disguise that works. Who said sex had no meaning in it anyway? Writers are very creative, I realized, in the different ways they described it, in the different ways they used it to convey other themes that aren’t necessarily about love. Or they described it in ways that made you truly think about what love actually means to the specific character, what’s boggling the narrator’s mind. I can remember him saying in his jocular way, “So your homework is to read this three times before you go to bed, ha!”
So anyway, that’s Professor Haralson. Professor Scheckel’s a whole other story that I’ll save for another blog.
Freakin’ school’s about to start in just a few days (next Monday to be exact) and I’m absolutely dreading it. Excuse the minor curse word, it’s just that when I’m in summer mode, I absolutely HATE the thought of going back to school mode. I mean deep-seated distaste. I can’t lie, the start of school cramps my summer style. I once told Steph that school bothers me. That is until it becomes interesting and (oh, you know I love using this word) entertaining.
I stay for the juicy short stories that I get to read in some classes -- the stories with broken or uneven love relationships that become unraveling maps to nowhere really (in the air, up for interpretation - somewhere there; you catch my drift); but, if they're lacking, I'm likely to fall asleep or slip if it were not for my robotic ability and last minute desperation (oh procrastination, what a shocker) that jumps in on time to save me from an absolute, total wreckage that is a pure failing grade, or even worse -- a sinking reputation.
Wow, that's one long sentence!
And it seems that I’ll be getting less of those short stories and more classes based on teaching. It’s a shift that’s bound to happen. Once we learn the literature/grammar part, we have to learn the ways to teach it.
So yeah, school and I don't mix until about the second or third week in, where I'm forced to share my life with it.
So anyway, besides her, I want to talk about two other professors whom I love for their ways of teaching. They are Professor Haralson and Professor Scheckel. I think they are the best professors I’ve had in Stony Brook because I love their teaching methods (not to hard and yet not too easy) and I love their enthusiasm in literature and their entertaining personalities.
You know what Professor Haralson did on the first day of school last semester? It was raining and he came in with a big, yellow raincoat matched with what looked like a fisherman’s rubber boots and a huge opened umbrella. He walked down the aisles of desks shaking everyone’s hand, engaging in small talk around the whole room with each student he passed by. Then he made a sarcastic joke about the lousy weather while standing on top of his desk, still carrying the opened umbrella, that is of course until he threw it across the floor. Did I mention that he is quite an old man? Probably in his high fifties. I’ve taken his several of his courses before. The semester before last, you know what he did on the day of our final? He wore a Hawaiian shirt (with sunglasses hanging from the collar) with white shorts and sandals, all accompanied with a hat that looked like a sombrero. He wanted us to finish the final already so he can sit in the sand grading whatever bs we had come up with (it must have amused him; he’s a light grader, which is also why I keep taking his classes) during those last two hours of his class sitting for the final essay. What did my teaching all add up to? -- I bet he was asking himself that while enjoying the summer beach.
It was not only his personality that kept me coming for more, it was also the material he taught. He made me absolutely love contemporary short stories. He made me love short stories period. And how? Being an old man with many years of experience in teaching college students, he learned how to keep us entertained. He made us read short stories with sexual content in it. I know it’s kind of implicit that most college students and really, come to think about it, teenagers and adolescents, think about sex a lot more than older adults. I must admit this with my own experience backing me up. And it wasn’t totally rated R because it was literature; there was substance in addition to that sexual content. Like a mother giving her baby medicine in their apple sauce. It’s a disguise that works. Who said sex had no meaning in it anyway? Writers are very creative, I realized, in the different ways they described it, in the different ways they used it to convey other themes that aren’t necessarily about love. Or they described it in ways that made you truly think about what love actually means to the specific character, what’s boggling the narrator’s mind. I can remember him saying in his jocular way, “So your homework is to read this three times before you go to bed, ha!”
So anyway, that’s Professor Haralson. Professor Scheckel’s a whole other story that I’ll save for another blog.
Freakin’ school’s about to start in just a few days (next Monday to be exact) and I’m absolutely dreading it. Excuse the minor curse word, it’s just that when I’m in summer mode, I absolutely HATE the thought of going back to school mode. I mean deep-seated distaste. I can’t lie, the start of school cramps my summer style. I once told Steph that school bothers me. That is until it becomes interesting and (oh, you know I love using this word) entertaining.
I stay for the juicy short stories that I get to read in some classes -- the stories with broken or uneven love relationships that become unraveling maps to nowhere really (in the air, up for interpretation - somewhere there; you catch my drift); but, if they're lacking, I'm likely to fall asleep or slip if it were not for my robotic ability and last minute desperation (oh procrastination, what a shocker) that jumps in on time to save me from an absolute, total wreckage that is a pure failing grade, or even worse -- a sinking reputation.
Wow, that's one long sentence!
And it seems that I’ll be getting less of those short stories and more classes based on teaching. It’s a shift that’s bound to happen. Once we learn the literature/grammar part, we have to learn the ways to teach it.
So yeah, school and I don't mix until about the second or third week in, where I'm forced to share my life with it.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Hopes and Fears
Recording drum covers is a difficult feat, especially for a person like me, who is, I must admit, a bit technologically inept (yes, when talking to me about technology, I'd prefer that you pretend I'm five years old). Part of the difficulty, aside from all the tech stuff, spews from the fact that recording decent drum covers is very expensive. I don't mind the practicing part; although it's time-consuming the fun I get out of it cancels that out. However we all know that money doesn't grow on trees no matter how much we wish it did. After talking with a friend with much experience in this field, I learned a thing or two about the materials I'd need to have in order to record drum covers that are not rough on the ears.
With all this said, I'm sad to say that I won't be able to make drum covers just yet. And I really wanted to so badly. It's just not financially possible to make decent covers at the moment. That and I need time to learn and familiarize myself with an audio mixer, among other recording equipment.
In order to make decent (meaning that it's not unclear and really poor quality on video) drum covers I'd need to have microphones (at least four of them for main drums/cymbals), cables, speakers, an audio mixer, a laptop that isn't broken (mine has a virus still -- shouldn't have seen that unrrated video! Just kidding (about the video) -- or am I??!!), as well as a certain music program and a video camera.
All that comes out to at least one thousand bucks. Lord knows that's not lying around anywhere, at least not under my foot.
But out of all those audio/recording equipment, the one that excites me the most is the audio mixer. Roughly, I think (remember I'm not a tech buff), this is how it outlines. I have to attach the microphones to the snare, floor tom, bass drum and overhead for the cymbals and tom-toms. With the cables, I'd attach those mic's to the audio mixer. What the audio mixer does (again, I think) is that it takes the sound that the mic's pick up from the drums/cymbals and I could create the listening experience for the listener, should the listener be wearing headphones/earphones. For example, I'd want to give the most authentic sound by making my hi-hat sound more to the left on the headphones because that's where my hi-hat is. The snare, a major part of the drum set, would most likely be centered. I'd make it so that low pitched sounds are on the bottom right when (you'd hear those sounds on the bottom right with your headphones)and nice splash cymbals and crashes on top, just like my real drum set. That audio mixer would be attached to speakers in which I would plug in my headphones so I can hear what I'm playing. The mixer would also be attached to my laptop which would have installed in it a music program in which I can edit the sound coming in. As for the video, well that's what the video camera is for. I'd video tape me playing to the drums and when it comes time to putting everything together, I'd mute the sound from the camera and replace it with the results of the editing in the music program. Then all I have to do is sync that up. If my friend could actually teach me all this, to be honest, I'd think a miracle just happened or a musical magic trick.
Does this all make sense? Am I boring you? It's all so interesting me; I've always wanted to organize sound and play around with it. I just never had the guts and determination to do it, nor the equipment, money and person to help me. But suddenly that all seems closer than I could have hoped for mostly because my determination to audio mix songs has peaked to an all time high.
And I wouldn't only have to use the audio mixer for my drums. I could use it with the piano too. Perhaps I cold make songs on the piano, record it and mix it up with the mixer and then add the drums for my own song. Now all I need is a guitar (preferably electric but it could also be acoustic), lyrics and a singer. but now I'm just asking for a. . . band!
Oh my--
Oh my goodness--
That'd be . . .
Sorry, just had a near uncontrolled ecstatic/excited moment; I had to let the feeling run through me.
Imagine - no seriously - imagine if I were the audio mixer in a band I'm in! I'd love to be the drummer/audio mixer/song writer/co-composer of a rock band (alternative or not, whichever, or a hybrid of both). Just short of that I could just make songs myself (if I had the proper recording equipment and mixer). I'd do the drums and piano (yes, it'll be piano rock) and maybe get Kuya to do the electric guitar, unless it's acoustic (but then it wouldn't get the effect of a real rock sound) or I could do the electric guitar sound using my keyboard (it'd be on a different sound other than grand piano). Yeah -- baby this could work! I just need the time and the dough.
Here I go again, talking about my hobby and totally ignoring what I really should focus on, my English teaching career. You know what I noticed? When people ask (particularly the elderly), what I'm taking up, and I'd respond with "English," the first thing that comes to their mind is grammar; but that's not all it is. it's a whole lot of writing and literature and they don't even want to stress grammar (unless it gets to the point where it gets in the way of great essay content). That's why lately I've been answering people with, "English and literature." Sorry for that random bit - it just popped in my head. So I myself absolutely love my hobbies more than my planned career. If only I were as enthusiastic in teaching as I am in recording (which I haven't done yet and still so want to do it) music and creating music, then I'd get better grades I bet. I must admit it's been slowly declining (just a tad) as my love of music has increased tenfold these past few school semesters. Oh man. then there's writing short stories. I find that more fun than learning about teaching even if it's time-consuming. it tests my creative writing skills and makes me appreciate short stories more now than ever. I love writing - creative writing - because it's like creating music.
And tennis. That's a whole other story. I love tennis and it's probably the oldest of all my hobbies. Tennis has been there since my junior year in high school. Yes, the explosion of interest in writing and music came with the college package. So what was I before tennis? An obedient nerd in school, purely academic. Nope, didn't play sports, didn't work out at the gym. I started working out/running in college too. It seemed like I experienced a late growth spurt in college in terms of my hobbies. Late bloomer is what I am -- better late than never. And yet for some this isn't late at all.
Music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, watching Whose Line is it Anyway?, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing.
That's all I think about. My love life is dry, though. Some may say it's nearing a confirmed non-existent status that begs for me to get out more (a breath a fresh air and hope and potential, away from a rusting dungeon, I might add), but to me it's more of a void-turned unconscious/conscious urge. Think of a reserved seat. It'll happen; it's there and yet it's not. I want it to materialize, for sure. Then again, who's totally sure about anything, you know? When will I finally record drum covers? That question gets annoying sometimes when other things are pestering my mind.
I feel like I'm spreading myself over too many slices of bread. I once wrote a birthday poem for Ate Sherry, in which I told her how life is a balancing act. Oh, the metaphors I think up. But seriously, I've never meant it as strongly as I do RIGHT NOW. Oh my God, how am I going to balance everything? School is going to start soon. I'm going to have to work extra hard in school to compensate for my declining interest in it (I'm heavily relying on the "I hope I get back in the zone - the one where I have a deep desire to teach" wagon). I'm going to have to get a part time job and schedule work hours (hopefully I get a job in a music store) so that I can earn money and save it up for audio/recording equipment (from here on out you ain't gonna see me touch my savings account except only to add to it). I'm going to have to find time to work out and stay in shape and I'm going to have to find time to continue writing (I'm thinking I should continue what I've been doing during my school semesters, which is generating ideas to write while I work out or have them magically appear at my doorstep in my mind right before I sleep).
I'm spreading myself, spreading myself thin. Balance . . . Bern you have to balance. But it's so hard, sometimes I can't. Yeah, but you have to if you really want to do everything you love (I wonder how far I can go without sacrificing anything . . . oh I'm pushing boundaries, baby). But it's so hard . . but you have to, you've got to -- and that's the last word, like fists climbing up the handle of a baseball bat.
You know what I really want? I just wanna . . . I just . . . I wish I could improve in all aspects of my life simultaneously. I wonder if that's possible (if it is, I'd be on cloud nine instead of in my troubled mind). I just need time to be kind to me and to cooperate with me. Oh, and good people - supportive and inspirational - to surround me. And I need the skills to perform the best balancing act I can ever pull off; that'll be my physical rendition of life. And the end result? My personal satisfaction and I hope the enjoyment of others from it =).
With all this said, I'm sad to say that I won't be able to make drum covers just yet. And I really wanted to so badly. It's just not financially possible to make decent covers at the moment. That and I need time to learn and familiarize myself with an audio mixer, among other recording equipment.
In order to make decent (meaning that it's not unclear and really poor quality on video) drum covers I'd need to have microphones (at least four of them for main drums/cymbals), cables, speakers, an audio mixer, a laptop that isn't broken (mine has a virus still -- shouldn't have seen that unrrated video! Just kidding (about the video) -- or am I??!!), as well as a certain music program and a video camera.
All that comes out to at least one thousand bucks. Lord knows that's not lying around anywhere, at least not under my foot.
But out of all those audio/recording equipment, the one that excites me the most is the audio mixer. Roughly, I think (remember I'm not a tech buff), this is how it outlines. I have to attach the microphones to the snare, floor tom, bass drum and overhead for the cymbals and tom-toms. With the cables, I'd attach those mic's to the audio mixer. What the audio mixer does (again, I think) is that it takes the sound that the mic's pick up from the drums/cymbals and I could create the listening experience for the listener, should the listener be wearing headphones/earphones. For example, I'd want to give the most authentic sound by making my hi-hat sound more to the left on the headphones because that's where my hi-hat is. The snare, a major part of the drum set, would most likely be centered. I'd make it so that low pitched sounds are on the bottom right when (you'd hear those sounds on the bottom right with your headphones)and nice splash cymbals and crashes on top, just like my real drum set. That audio mixer would be attached to speakers in which I would plug in my headphones so I can hear what I'm playing. The mixer would also be attached to my laptop which would have installed in it a music program in which I can edit the sound coming in. As for the video, well that's what the video camera is for. I'd video tape me playing to the drums and when it comes time to putting everything together, I'd mute the sound from the camera and replace it with the results of the editing in the music program. Then all I have to do is sync that up. If my friend could actually teach me all this, to be honest, I'd think a miracle just happened or a musical magic trick.
Does this all make sense? Am I boring you? It's all so interesting me; I've always wanted to organize sound and play around with it. I just never had the guts and determination to do it, nor the equipment, money and person to help me. But suddenly that all seems closer than I could have hoped for mostly because my determination to audio mix songs has peaked to an all time high.
And I wouldn't only have to use the audio mixer for my drums. I could use it with the piano too. Perhaps I cold make songs on the piano, record it and mix it up with the mixer and then add the drums for my own song. Now all I need is a guitar (preferably electric but it could also be acoustic), lyrics and a singer. but now I'm just asking for a. . . band!
Oh my--
Oh my goodness--
That'd be . . .
Sorry, just had a near uncontrolled ecstatic/excited moment; I had to let the feeling run through me.
Imagine - no seriously - imagine if I were the audio mixer in a band I'm in! I'd love to be the drummer/audio mixer/song writer/co-composer of a rock band (alternative or not, whichever, or a hybrid of both). Just short of that I could just make songs myself (if I had the proper recording equipment and mixer). I'd do the drums and piano (yes, it'll be piano rock) and maybe get Kuya to do the electric guitar, unless it's acoustic (but then it wouldn't get the effect of a real rock sound) or I could do the electric guitar sound using my keyboard (it'd be on a different sound other than grand piano). Yeah -- baby this could work! I just need the time and the dough.
Here I go again, talking about my hobby and totally ignoring what I really should focus on, my English teaching career. You know what I noticed? When people ask (particularly the elderly), what I'm taking up, and I'd respond with "English," the first thing that comes to their mind is grammar; but that's not all it is. it's a whole lot of writing and literature and they don't even want to stress grammar (unless it gets to the point where it gets in the way of great essay content). That's why lately I've been answering people with, "English and literature." Sorry for that random bit - it just popped in my head. So I myself absolutely love my hobbies more than my planned career. If only I were as enthusiastic in teaching as I am in recording (which I haven't done yet and still so want to do it) music and creating music, then I'd get better grades I bet. I must admit it's been slowly declining (just a tad) as my love of music has increased tenfold these past few school semesters. Oh man. then there's writing short stories. I find that more fun than learning about teaching even if it's time-consuming. it tests my creative writing skills and makes me appreciate short stories more now than ever. I love writing - creative writing - because it's like creating music.
And tennis. That's a whole other story. I love tennis and it's probably the oldest of all my hobbies. Tennis has been there since my junior year in high school. Yes, the explosion of interest in writing and music came with the college package. So what was I before tennis? An obedient nerd in school, purely academic. Nope, didn't play sports, didn't work out at the gym. I started working out/running in college too. It seemed like I experienced a late growth spurt in college in terms of my hobbies. Late bloomer is what I am -- better late than never. And yet for some this isn't late at all.
Music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, watching Whose Line is it Anyway?, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing, music, tennis, writing.
That's all I think about. My love life is dry, though. Some may say it's nearing a confirmed non-existent status that begs for me to get out more (a breath a fresh air and hope and potential, away from a rusting dungeon, I might add), but to me it's more of a void-turned unconscious/conscious urge. Think of a reserved seat. It'll happen; it's there and yet it's not. I want it to materialize, for sure. Then again, who's totally sure about anything, you know? When will I finally record drum covers? That question gets annoying sometimes when other things are pestering my mind.
I feel like I'm spreading myself over too many slices of bread. I once wrote a birthday poem for Ate Sherry, in which I told her how life is a balancing act. Oh, the metaphors I think up. But seriously, I've never meant it as strongly as I do RIGHT NOW. Oh my God, how am I going to balance everything? School is going to start soon. I'm going to have to work extra hard in school to compensate for my declining interest in it (I'm heavily relying on the "I hope I get back in the zone - the one where I have a deep desire to teach" wagon). I'm going to have to get a part time job and schedule work hours (hopefully I get a job in a music store) so that I can earn money and save it up for audio/recording equipment (from here on out you ain't gonna see me touch my savings account except only to add to it). I'm going to have to find time to work out and stay in shape and I'm going to have to find time to continue writing (I'm thinking I should continue what I've been doing during my school semesters, which is generating ideas to write while I work out or have them magically appear at my doorstep in my mind right before I sleep).
I'm spreading myself, spreading myself thin. Balance . . . Bern you have to balance. But it's so hard, sometimes I can't. Yeah, but you have to if you really want to do everything you love (I wonder how far I can go without sacrificing anything . . . oh I'm pushing boundaries, baby). But it's so hard . . but you have to, you've got to -- and that's the last word, like fists climbing up the handle of a baseball bat.
You know what I really want? I just wanna . . . I just . . . I wish I could improve in all aspects of my life simultaneously. I wonder if that's possible (if it is, I'd be on cloud nine instead of in my troubled mind). I just need time to be kind to me and to cooperate with me. Oh, and good people - supportive and inspirational - to surround me. And I need the skills to perform the best balancing act I can ever pull off; that'll be my physical rendition of life. And the end result? My personal satisfaction and I hope the enjoyment of others from it =).
Friday, August 13, 2010
Homosexuality
Why can’t you love someone you love because they’re the same sex as you? Wouldn’t forbidding this be an act of sexism, then? “You’re not allowed to love her because she’s a girl,” that’s sexism right? But then you look at the bigger picture and they say, “And you’re also a girl.” Then conservative people squirm in disgust. If homosexuality’s been around for so long, why can’t we just accept it and get along? Basic questions, people, the defending answer to which would humor me. What’s sinful about this kind of love? The fact that it doesn’t lead to producing children which is what God intended sex for? You may say, “Exactly!” but that doesn’t cut it for me. Would it make a difference if it didn’t say in the Bible that homosexuality is sinful? Would people since the beginning of the Bible accept homosexuality as normal, or was the taboo set in society even before the Bible? There are so many questions I . . . I . . . I have a headache.
I recently took a survey that was used for scientific research in the field of psychology and it was about immorality. The survey had grounds on personality and basically what it was all about was to see where my boundaries are as far as what I consider to be immoral – where is my borderline in terms of immorality, I guess I should say. One of the main issues on the survey was homosexuality or just sexuality in general – premarital sex, causal sex, masturbation, hetero/homosexual sex. Are all of these immoral and to what degree (extreme, so-so, not really, etc)? Other issues included smoking, pollution, littering, the use of curse words, all of which are out of this topic though. As a result of the survey, which I must say was rather intriguing to me because I never really analyzed this side of myself, I discovered that I’m pretty liberal. I’m permissive, tolerant of what most others would forbid, particularly in terms of sexuality. But that contradicted with my religion, which is why I decided to label myself a liberal Christian, if such a thing can exist.
Oh hypocrisy. Don’t kill yourself over it. Everyone is a hypocrite and we can attribute that attribute to the fact that we have feelings and opinions and then we have deeper and truer feelings and opinions. We could try to not be hypocrites but we’re all mixtures of a little of many beliefs and values that may get entangled. So what if they do? Don’t get me wrong. It’s worth trying not to be a hypocrite, you gotta try your strength, but in my opinion, it’s not something to die over. Circumstances change and we find that we’re not as constant as the sun. We’re more like moons because we have phases. Let’s face it, we’re lunatics at heart because we’re not perfect but imperfect hypocrites who are just trying to do the right thing, which is following our hearts whichever way it sways. All I’m saying is that you should live by who you are even if that means being a liberal Christian. Take what you like and leave what you disagree with.
I was kind of hesitant to post this because I realize it is a bit personal, but it was kairotic and therefore somewhat appropriate. It was also interesting, at least for me, to explore. I thought what harm would it do me? None, right? – so long as every sets aside differences and practices tolerance contentedly. I mean, I have obviously.
No, I’m not homosexual myself, at least I don’t think I am.
I recently took a survey that was used for scientific research in the field of psychology and it was about immorality. The survey had grounds on personality and basically what it was all about was to see where my boundaries are as far as what I consider to be immoral – where is my borderline in terms of immorality, I guess I should say. One of the main issues on the survey was homosexuality or just sexuality in general – premarital sex, causal sex, masturbation, hetero/homosexual sex. Are all of these immoral and to what degree (extreme, so-so, not really, etc)? Other issues included smoking, pollution, littering, the use of curse words, all of which are out of this topic though. As a result of the survey, which I must say was rather intriguing to me because I never really analyzed this side of myself, I discovered that I’m pretty liberal. I’m permissive, tolerant of what most others would forbid, particularly in terms of sexuality. But that contradicted with my religion, which is why I decided to label myself a liberal Christian, if such a thing can exist.
Oh hypocrisy. Don’t kill yourself over it. Everyone is a hypocrite and we can attribute that attribute to the fact that we have feelings and opinions and then we have deeper and truer feelings and opinions. We could try to not be hypocrites but we’re all mixtures of a little of many beliefs and values that may get entangled. So what if they do? Don’t get me wrong. It’s worth trying not to be a hypocrite, you gotta try your strength, but in my opinion, it’s not something to die over. Circumstances change and we find that we’re not as constant as the sun. We’re more like moons because we have phases. Let’s face it, we’re lunatics at heart because we’re not perfect but imperfect hypocrites who are just trying to do the right thing, which is following our hearts whichever way it sways. All I’m saying is that you should live by who you are even if that means being a liberal Christian. Take what you like and leave what you disagree with.
I was kind of hesitant to post this because I realize it is a bit personal, but it was kairotic and therefore somewhat appropriate. It was also interesting, at least for me, to explore. I thought what harm would it do me? None, right? – so long as every sets aside differences and practices tolerance contentedly. I mean, I have obviously.
No, I’m not homosexual myself, at least I don’t think I am.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Resources
Two days ago, I bought new cymbals to replace my old ones. I’ve had cracked ones for a few months and the cracks just kept running deeper and deeper into the cymbals away from the edge. It started to affect the sound quality of the cymbals and I started getting scared that it would get to the point where it wouldn’t just be loud; it would be loud and annoyingly awful to hear.
So, with that said, I had decided to continue to use my cracked hi-hat (it’s the cymbal I use the most) and replace the crash cymbal with a pillow hanging on a tall chair. My parents don’t really need that pillow anyway.
However, the pillow obviously didn’t give the same effect as a real cymbal. It’s doesn’t make a noise except for a soft “pad” kind of sound. It was funny. I kept cracking up when I was practicing songs because I’d do a fill to transition from one part of a song to another and I would end with a confident crash and all I hear, in anticipation of the crash is, “puh,” from the pillow. Still, even if the effect wasn’t the same, the feeling of hitting something was, so the pillow made do.
That pillow kind of reminds of a quality of mine that my brother pointed out to me. He said once that I was resourceful. When I think back, I kind of see where he got that from. I think of all the things I made out of household objects to simulate musical instruments or music equipment when they were lacking or too expensive to buy at the time. I once made a djembe drum out of a peanut can. It sounded good too, would you believe! There was a time when I lost my guitar pick, so I made one out of a credit card that my dad didn’t need anymore. Then there was the whole makeshift drum set that I made out of my bed. I think I said this in an earlier blog before and I’ll just repeat it here: I would use the bed as the bass drum, a leather address book as a snare, a bean pillow as a hi-hat and my drum sticks were the legs of an old wooden stool that was rendered too risky to use (like a totaled car). Then, when I learned that the bass drum was supposed to be used with a kick pedal, I – no I didn’t create a kind of pedal (that was a bit far-fetched) – I simply laid down a hard-covered text book (linguistics, by the way) on the floor and stomped on it to create a solid sound. Or I would sit down with a tin can in between my knees that would act as a snare drum, the bean pillow on a chair to my left for a hi-hat and I’d just put that text book bass drum under my right foot – the simplest drum set I’ve ever made.
So, um, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, new cymbals. Got’em and I’m so excited to use them. They came in a package – three zildjian (a very reputable company) cymbals: a crash, a ride and hi-hats. All for around $174 or $190 with tax. To be honest, I thought I’d have to buy them separately and when I was researching how much different cymbals cost, I saw prices that made me think I’d never buy them. I’m talking about seeing prices as high as $200 for just one cymbal! I don’t have that kind of money lying around and the money I used to buy all my drum stuff so far came out of my savings account and my parent’s money. Needless to say, I was very, VERY relieved to find that package deal.
Now, about covers of songs to post on youtube. I made a cover of a song on the piano and I recorded it on Ate Sherry’s laptop. However, I haven’t had time to post it on youtube yet because I used Ate Sherry’s laptop (not mine) so I have to post it when she wants to, which is when she has time and Ate Sherry’s a busy lady; a very busy lady indeed! As for a drum cover, what you gotta understand is that recording drums, at least for me, is a lot more difficult than recording piano covers simply because drums are a lot louder, which makes it hard to get a good recording without the sound quality being very poor. As of right now, I absolutely have no idea how to record drum covers. I don’t have a stereo that plays the music loud enough that I could hear my drums over them because the stereo I have is old and it broke, and I’m not . . .what’s the word? Technologically savvy (which is why Ate Sherry always helps me with the piano covers). All I know is that I’ve seen enough drum covers on youtube and all those drummers used headphones and either synced their music (I have no clue how) or had microphones for their drums. I do believe both options would involve some tech knowledge and money, both of which I don’t have. But, I do have some potential, not definite, connections with some people who may or may not help me. I will try to get a drum cover up before school starts or in some time in September! And no, it’s not an obligation for me because I’ve always admired those people who do drum covers and I’ve always wanted to create lots of them. I have a couple songs that I’ve been thinking of doing by Keane and The Fray. Should I do a solo? I don’t know. The first thing to think of is how to record it and that’s a big step for me.
So, with that said, I had decided to continue to use my cracked hi-hat (it’s the cymbal I use the most) and replace the crash cymbal with a pillow hanging on a tall chair. My parents don’t really need that pillow anyway.
However, the pillow obviously didn’t give the same effect as a real cymbal. It’s doesn’t make a noise except for a soft “pad” kind of sound. It was funny. I kept cracking up when I was practicing songs because I’d do a fill to transition from one part of a song to another and I would end with a confident crash and all I hear, in anticipation of the crash is, “puh,” from the pillow. Still, even if the effect wasn’t the same, the feeling of hitting something was, so the pillow made do.
That pillow kind of reminds of a quality of mine that my brother pointed out to me. He said once that I was resourceful. When I think back, I kind of see where he got that from. I think of all the things I made out of household objects to simulate musical instruments or music equipment when they were lacking or too expensive to buy at the time. I once made a djembe drum out of a peanut can. It sounded good too, would you believe! There was a time when I lost my guitar pick, so I made one out of a credit card that my dad didn’t need anymore. Then there was the whole makeshift drum set that I made out of my bed. I think I said this in an earlier blog before and I’ll just repeat it here: I would use the bed as the bass drum, a leather address book as a snare, a bean pillow as a hi-hat and my drum sticks were the legs of an old wooden stool that was rendered too risky to use (like a totaled car). Then, when I learned that the bass drum was supposed to be used with a kick pedal, I – no I didn’t create a kind of pedal (that was a bit far-fetched) – I simply laid down a hard-covered text book (linguistics, by the way) on the floor and stomped on it to create a solid sound. Or I would sit down with a tin can in between my knees that would act as a snare drum, the bean pillow on a chair to my left for a hi-hat and I’d just put that text book bass drum under my right foot – the simplest drum set I’ve ever made.
So, um, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, new cymbals. Got’em and I’m so excited to use them. They came in a package – three zildjian (a very reputable company) cymbals: a crash, a ride and hi-hats. All for around $174 or $190 with tax. To be honest, I thought I’d have to buy them separately and when I was researching how much different cymbals cost, I saw prices that made me think I’d never buy them. I’m talking about seeing prices as high as $200 for just one cymbal! I don’t have that kind of money lying around and the money I used to buy all my drum stuff so far came out of my savings account and my parent’s money. Needless to say, I was very, VERY relieved to find that package deal.
Now, about covers of songs to post on youtube. I made a cover of a song on the piano and I recorded it on Ate Sherry’s laptop. However, I haven’t had time to post it on youtube yet because I used Ate Sherry’s laptop (not mine) so I have to post it when she wants to, which is when she has time and Ate Sherry’s a busy lady; a very busy lady indeed! As for a drum cover, what you gotta understand is that recording drums, at least for me, is a lot more difficult than recording piano covers simply because drums are a lot louder, which makes it hard to get a good recording without the sound quality being very poor. As of right now, I absolutely have no idea how to record drum covers. I don’t have a stereo that plays the music loud enough that I could hear my drums over them because the stereo I have is old and it broke, and I’m not . . .what’s the word? Technologically savvy (which is why Ate Sherry always helps me with the piano covers). All I know is that I’ve seen enough drum covers on youtube and all those drummers used headphones and either synced their music (I have no clue how) or had microphones for their drums. I do believe both options would involve some tech knowledge and money, both of which I don’t have. But, I do have some potential, not definite, connections with some people who may or may not help me. I will try to get a drum cover up before school starts or in some time in September! And no, it’s not an obligation for me because I’ve always admired those people who do drum covers and I’ve always wanted to create lots of them. I have a couple songs that I’ve been thinking of doing by Keane and The Fray. Should I do a solo? I don’t know. The first thing to think of is how to record it and that’s a big step for me.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
The Killers are not a sellout
What is a sellout. First define it. A sellout is a band that becomes popular and in the process loses touch with their “vision.” Or the kind of band they are. Deviating from their roots. What are The Killers roots? Synth rock band. But who says a band has to stick with what they made up at the beginning? Most bands transform as they mature. Take Keane for example, they were a piano rock group that, in their third album, experimented with some 80’s styles. Sure they’ll lose some fans, but that’s the risk they’ll take in order to still do what they want, despite what people want, which is what the band originally was like. Now look at The Killers. With each new album, kind of, they’ve deviated from their first album. Why? Because they want to experiment, not to please the people. With Day and Age, they probably lost many fans who wanted to hear more edge, rock and synth, but hey, let The Killers do what they want to do. Those fans are going to be the fans that will think The Killers are a sellout. But how could they if they’re keeping touch with their vision, which is ever changing. You know nothing is ever constant and with changing times it’s inevitable. The Killers are maturing and experimenting, not caring what others would think of them. Heck, you can see that in Brandon’s outfit – a jacket with feathers at the shoulders or penny loafers and tuxedo with a bow tie. They dress however they want to dress; they change however they want to change in terms of musical style. True fans are those who love The Killers for who they are and their music despite the change. The real sellouts are those fans who start to trash talk their favorite band like a group of complaining sissy girls once they see something “off” or, dare I say, “popular,” or not as “pure, small time and independent” as they used to be. Oh please, you girls just want some juice to gossip about. Grow up.
On the plus side, you know what kind of power you have if you’re popular? Like The Killers, you should use that role to spread goodness in the world, like promoting peace. That’s why, although The Killers have gain a certain amount of popularity, they’re not as popular as artists you hear on a daily basis on the radio. Most of those artists sing songs around the same theme, which is usually love/relationships. In fact the only popular killers songs that have made it on the radio, such as “Smile like you mean it,” “Somebody told me,” and “Mr. Brightside” were about love/relationships, and that’s what made those songs popular. If it’s not that theme that makes some of their songs popular, then it’s their catchy tune. But it’s only catchy because it fits what the song conveys, like “All these things that I’ve done.” It basically talks about looking back at your life with a positive attitude. Of course it’s going to use that popular chord progression, it’s only fitting. It’s only if you use that chord progression with every single song, despite opposing moods and meanings of the lyrics that you become closer to being a sellout. Then you’re just using that chord progression for the sake of the ears of many instead of the song. The Killers don’t do that; they write their song and then the melody that would fit it best. If The Killers are sellouts, then they are intelligent ones, at best, unlike most. I’d rather have that in my ears to listen to that than to other sellouts.
In continuing with experimentation, just as an important side note, The Killers have covered so many subgenres of rock. All the way from classic rock, synth rock, pop rock, country rock, to alternative rock (with some reggae). They just do whatever they want, so long as it’s still under the umbrella of rock – they are a rock band in almost every possible way they can and want to be, as far as their capabilities can take them.
Let them do whatever they want. Why you gotta complain when they don’t do what you want? So what if they become successful, aren’t you supposed to be happy for them? They are, after all, successful and NOT superficial. I think that’s where the problem lies. Too many think they are, but they’re not listening – I mean really listening – to The Killers lyrics. Did you know "Believe me Natalie" was about a girl dancer with AIDS? And did you know that "Leave the Bourbon on the shelf," "Midnight show," and "Jenny was a friend of mine" were all part of a murder trilogy that The Killers purposely put on separate albums? Did you know "Dustland Fairytale" was about the fact that Brandon Flowers's mom was diagnosed and suffering from cancer? Just a few examples of The Killers songwriting/musical style creativity in rock. In fact, the article, "The Killers and Patti Smith receive songwriting honors" states that, "The American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers named Dr. Luke songwriter of the year and The Killers were honoured for their musical impact. Rock legend Patti Smith won a lifetime achievement award, while Jason Mraz won song of the year for I'm Yours." I think you should listen and interpret, people! If only more people were less ignorant . . . But hey, I’m not here to impose opinions, just state them like I state facts.
Good job, Jason Mraz and The Killers -- my two favorite musicians. Coincidence? I think not.
To be honest, I wish The Killers were more edgy with their recent material, which is why their fourth album, Day and Age, is my least favorite. But I still love them. You ain’t gonna to see me call them sellouts; I’m not that ignorant.
This blog was a response to this article:
http://www.themiamihurricane.com/2010/01/10/sell-outs-are-cop-outs/
On the plus side, you know what kind of power you have if you’re popular? Like The Killers, you should use that role to spread goodness in the world, like promoting peace. That’s why, although The Killers have gain a certain amount of popularity, they’re not as popular as artists you hear on a daily basis on the radio. Most of those artists sing songs around the same theme, which is usually love/relationships. In fact the only popular killers songs that have made it on the radio, such as “Smile like you mean it,” “Somebody told me,” and “Mr. Brightside” were about love/relationships, and that’s what made those songs popular. If it’s not that theme that makes some of their songs popular, then it’s their catchy tune. But it’s only catchy because it fits what the song conveys, like “All these things that I’ve done.” It basically talks about looking back at your life with a positive attitude. Of course it’s going to use that popular chord progression, it’s only fitting. It’s only if you use that chord progression with every single song, despite opposing moods and meanings of the lyrics that you become closer to being a sellout. Then you’re just using that chord progression for the sake of the ears of many instead of the song. The Killers don’t do that; they write their song and then the melody that would fit it best. If The Killers are sellouts, then they are intelligent ones, at best, unlike most. I’d rather have that in my ears to listen to that than to other sellouts.
In continuing with experimentation, just as an important side note, The Killers have covered so many subgenres of rock. All the way from classic rock, synth rock, pop rock, country rock, to alternative rock (with some reggae). They just do whatever they want, so long as it’s still under the umbrella of rock – they are a rock band in almost every possible way they can and want to be, as far as their capabilities can take them.
Let them do whatever they want. Why you gotta complain when they don’t do what you want? So what if they become successful, aren’t you supposed to be happy for them? They are, after all, successful and NOT superficial. I think that’s where the problem lies. Too many think they are, but they’re not listening – I mean really listening – to The Killers lyrics. Did you know "Believe me Natalie" was about a girl dancer with AIDS? And did you know that "Leave the Bourbon on the shelf," "Midnight show," and "Jenny was a friend of mine" were all part of a murder trilogy that The Killers purposely put on separate albums? Did you know "Dustland Fairytale" was about the fact that Brandon Flowers's mom was diagnosed and suffering from cancer? Just a few examples of The Killers songwriting/musical style creativity in rock. In fact, the article, "The Killers and Patti Smith receive songwriting honors" states that, "The American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers named Dr. Luke songwriter of the year and The Killers were honoured for their musical impact. Rock legend Patti Smith won a lifetime achievement award, while Jason Mraz won song of the year for I'm Yours." I think you should listen and interpret, people! If only more people were less ignorant . . . But hey, I’m not here to impose opinions, just state them like I state facts.
Good job, Jason Mraz and The Killers -- my two favorite musicians. Coincidence? I think not.
To be honest, I wish The Killers were more edgy with their recent material, which is why their fourth album, Day and Age, is my least favorite. But I still love them. You ain’t gonna to see me call them sellouts; I’m not that ignorant.
This blog was a response to this article:
http://www.themiamihurricane.com/2010/01/10/sell-outs-are-cop-outs/
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Dream, featuring Sue Sylvester and Jesus
Dreams have always interested me since the beginning of college when I skimmed over that topic in my psychology textbook for my PSY103 class. Every night, after succumbing myself to a restful state, I close my eyes and say the Our Father. Most nights, I don’t even get to finish it because I fall asleep, or I get distracted in my imagination and fall asleep then. But every night, I have a dream and the next morning, whether I want to or not, I actually remember it for a good thirty minutes or so. Some say they don’t dream, but I learned that we all do. It’s just a case of whether or not you remember your dream. Is it a case of whether you chose to remember it or not? I don’t know. Now we’re really hitting Freudian stuff. I surprise myself whenever I remember mine because in my waking state, I always forget things and past events. That family vacation to Florida in ’98 is out the window. I don’t even remember going there at all, not even with the pictures in front of me.
The dream I had just recently had me looking back in that psychology textbook to catch up on my knowledge of dreams besides the classic Freudian theory where dreams represent what you are unconsciously repressing, sexual or not. Part of what I re-read includes contemporary theories of dream content. According to contemporary theories:
"One of the functions of sleep is to draw together ‘an individual’s recent experiences of the past few days along with their goals, desires, and problems.’ According to this view, the story of the dream reflects the brain’s attempt to weave a narrative around the recent fragments of a person’s life that become most prominent during REM sleep. Studies of dream content confirm that content of dreams shows a good deal of continuity with dreamers’ waking concerns."
I couldn’t agree more with this theory as I retrospect back to a plethora of dreams.
However, a few nights ago I had a dream that, if I were to totally put myself in the hands of contemporary theories of dream content, I’d be very confused because I don’t see how it has to do with recent events in my life, other than the fact that my future will involve the field of education and my dream took place in a school. It was a very odd dream. The weirdest by far that I’ve ever had and it had the most celebs that I’ve ever had in a dream; well not celebs per se, at least I wouldn’t call one of them a celeb; instead he’s a pretty important figure in the biblical sense.
As I said, the scene of the dream was a high school. It was summer time, so there were no classes going on. However a movie was being shown in the auditorium and food and refreshments were in the gymnasium, meaning that one would have to walk from the gym to the auditorium to bring food back to their seat. So that’s exactly what I did before the movie started. During the movie, I had to get up to use the bathroom. I walked out into the hallway and was about to go down the stairs. Blocking the steps was none other than Sue Sylvester from Glee. She was the gym teacher at the school with all the attributes she harbors as her character in the show. Who else could she be? She fits that role so perfectly. So anyway, I was intimidated to go past her because she’s kind of scary to cross, that meanie of a coach. But I had to go to the bathroom, so I thought I’d silently pass her. However, that wasn’t likely to happen. She stopped me. That’s when I noticed that I was wearing some type of mascot two-piece suit of an indistinguishable animal. She took hold of my shoulders and said, “Let me help you; we don’t want you to trip down these steps now do we?”
“Ok,” I said.
So she stood behind me and I thought she was just going to guide me down the steps, holding my shoulders, but instead she gave me the roughest wedgie in the world. Once a fox, always a fox. At the bottom of the steps, she gave me a pat on the butt and said, “Now get to class.”
“But we don’t have class,” I mumbled as I uncomfortably walked away from her as fast as I could.
As I continued down the hallway, I had a run-in with another teacher. Only, something was peculiar about him. It was as if he were a lenticular print revealing a teacher who looked like Hans Landa from Inglorious Basterds and, if you angle your head a little, Jesus. Just like a super special basketball card or pokemon card that has a picture that morphs into another picture if you look at it from a different angle. I saw a Hans Landa teacher who morphed into Jesus.
He asked me to do him a favor. “I need you to go to the cafeteria and get me a fork.” I think he said fork. It was either that or a spoon. In any case, he wanted an eating utensil. I looked toward the cafeteria and saw that I would have to cross the tracks in a subway to get to it, and there were no stairs to go around and over the tracks. The only way to get to the cafeteria was to jump down onto the tracks, climb out, get the fork, jump back down and then climb out again to get back to Jesus. Easier said than done. I was scared to hell that I wasn’t going to climb back out in time before a train comes and kills me. The teacher/Jesus, sensed my fear in hesitation, partly because I told him how I was scared. He looked at me, straight in the eye and held both of my shoulders and said, “Bern, I’m Jesus, of course you’re going to make it across. Please get me a fork.” I looked back at the tracks and saw how deeply below my floor level they were.
“Ummmm . . . fine, ok.” He was, after all, Jesus. I hope he wasn’t Satan in disguise.
No longer wearing a mascot suit, I looked down at the tracks and jumped. Just as I jumped, I heard a train and looked to my left. The light of the train was shining in the tunnel and I was so panicked and short of breath. “Oh God!” I thought. The train was so loud.
I woke up sweating with my cell phone ringing and that was that. Incorporated dream (when something in real life is incorporated in your dream) in the end.
What could this dream mean? When I woke up, I couldn’t help thinking about how Harry Potter was the “chosen one.” Why did Jesus pick me to do him a favor? Does he expect me to become a saint? What qualifies someone to be a saint anyway? I don’t even know that! I’m guessing you have to be pure to be a saint, like nuns. I don’t think I’m pure, trust me. And who says I’m trying to be a saint? There’s already a Saint Bernadette anyway. Or do you have to be really religious to be a saint? I’m not religiously religious, but I do believe in the man upstairs and if there’s one person to thank for all the goodness in the world and for fate, I’d think it’s him. Why me? – Besides the fact that it was my dream. This was the first time Jesus was in any of my nightly unconscious flights.
The dream I had just recently had me looking back in that psychology textbook to catch up on my knowledge of dreams besides the classic Freudian theory where dreams represent what you are unconsciously repressing, sexual or not. Part of what I re-read includes contemporary theories of dream content. According to contemporary theories:
"One of the functions of sleep is to draw together ‘an individual’s recent experiences of the past few days along with their goals, desires, and problems.’ According to this view, the story of the dream reflects the brain’s attempt to weave a narrative around the recent fragments of a person’s life that become most prominent during REM sleep. Studies of dream content confirm that content of dreams shows a good deal of continuity with dreamers’ waking concerns."
I couldn’t agree more with this theory as I retrospect back to a plethora of dreams.
However, a few nights ago I had a dream that, if I were to totally put myself in the hands of contemporary theories of dream content, I’d be very confused because I don’t see how it has to do with recent events in my life, other than the fact that my future will involve the field of education and my dream took place in a school. It was a very odd dream. The weirdest by far that I’ve ever had and it had the most celebs that I’ve ever had in a dream; well not celebs per se, at least I wouldn’t call one of them a celeb; instead he’s a pretty important figure in the biblical sense.
As I said, the scene of the dream was a high school. It was summer time, so there were no classes going on. However a movie was being shown in the auditorium and food and refreshments were in the gymnasium, meaning that one would have to walk from the gym to the auditorium to bring food back to their seat. So that’s exactly what I did before the movie started. During the movie, I had to get up to use the bathroom. I walked out into the hallway and was about to go down the stairs. Blocking the steps was none other than Sue Sylvester from Glee. She was the gym teacher at the school with all the attributes she harbors as her character in the show. Who else could she be? She fits that role so perfectly. So anyway, I was intimidated to go past her because she’s kind of scary to cross, that meanie of a coach. But I had to go to the bathroom, so I thought I’d silently pass her. However, that wasn’t likely to happen. She stopped me. That’s when I noticed that I was wearing some type of mascot two-piece suit of an indistinguishable animal. She took hold of my shoulders and said, “Let me help you; we don’t want you to trip down these steps now do we?”
“Ok,” I said.
So she stood behind me and I thought she was just going to guide me down the steps, holding my shoulders, but instead she gave me the roughest wedgie in the world. Once a fox, always a fox. At the bottom of the steps, she gave me a pat on the butt and said, “Now get to class.”
“But we don’t have class,” I mumbled as I uncomfortably walked away from her as fast as I could.
As I continued down the hallway, I had a run-in with another teacher. Only, something was peculiar about him. It was as if he were a lenticular print revealing a teacher who looked like Hans Landa from Inglorious Basterds and, if you angle your head a little, Jesus. Just like a super special basketball card or pokemon card that has a picture that morphs into another picture if you look at it from a different angle. I saw a Hans Landa teacher who morphed into Jesus.
He asked me to do him a favor. “I need you to go to the cafeteria and get me a fork.” I think he said fork. It was either that or a spoon. In any case, he wanted an eating utensil. I looked toward the cafeteria and saw that I would have to cross the tracks in a subway to get to it, and there were no stairs to go around and over the tracks. The only way to get to the cafeteria was to jump down onto the tracks, climb out, get the fork, jump back down and then climb out again to get back to Jesus. Easier said than done. I was scared to hell that I wasn’t going to climb back out in time before a train comes and kills me. The teacher/Jesus, sensed my fear in hesitation, partly because I told him how I was scared. He looked at me, straight in the eye and held both of my shoulders and said, “Bern, I’m Jesus, of course you’re going to make it across. Please get me a fork.” I looked back at the tracks and saw how deeply below my floor level they were.
“Ummmm . . . fine, ok.” He was, after all, Jesus. I hope he wasn’t Satan in disguise.
No longer wearing a mascot suit, I looked down at the tracks and jumped. Just as I jumped, I heard a train and looked to my left. The light of the train was shining in the tunnel and I was so panicked and short of breath. “Oh God!” I thought. The train was so loud.
I woke up sweating with my cell phone ringing and that was that. Incorporated dream (when something in real life is incorporated in your dream) in the end.
What could this dream mean? When I woke up, I couldn’t help thinking about how Harry Potter was the “chosen one.” Why did Jesus pick me to do him a favor? Does he expect me to become a saint? What qualifies someone to be a saint anyway? I don’t even know that! I’m guessing you have to be pure to be a saint, like nuns. I don’t think I’m pure, trust me. And who says I’m trying to be a saint? There’s already a Saint Bernadette anyway. Or do you have to be really religious to be a saint? I’m not religiously religious, but I do believe in the man upstairs and if there’s one person to thank for all the goodness in the world and for fate, I’d think it’s him. Why me? – Besides the fact that it was my dream. This was the first time Jesus was in any of my nightly unconscious flights.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Personality quizzes
I took a quiz today that told me what my personality is like, based on my birth month. This is what it read:
“Determined. Hopeless romantic. Industrious. Warm and compassionate. Patient and tolerant. Do or die attitude. Inquisitive and intuitive. Faithful friend. Sharp thinker. Emotional lover. Secretive. Active. You like to enjoy life to the fullest. Easy going. Attractive personality.”
I kind of like that. It’s got a little truth in it, I must say. Funny, how one of the words is inquisitive, for I do in fact ask many questions. That is to say, I am, as dictionary.com puts it, eager for knowledge. I would say I am secretive -- for reasons that will remain un-divulged, of course. Active: tennis/drums/some running. When I finally do find that special someone, I would like to be an emotional lover, not a bland piece of human creation made to mitosis the heck out of myself. Enjoying life to the fullest would be my supreme occupation, however boring my particulars would be to others. I don’t know about sharp thinker, but I like to think I have an imaginative mind. You tell me if I have an attractive personality, Lord knows I don’t have to attract myself!
I’ve always enjoyed taking personality quizzes, ever since I was young. There’s something in the act of finding out more about yourself through a medium other than your thoughts. Almost like a confirmation of what you’ve always wanted to hear, or sadly expected to hear (or happily expected to hear). The more knowledge you have of yourself makes you feel more in control. And who wouldn’t want that? After all, at least for me, one of the scariest feelings is the feeling of being at the entrance of insanity or is it the jump off from sanity? However way you look at it, the feeling is just as scary as the feeling you get going to bed in a dark room just after watching a scary that movie that you’ve realized was a regret.
“Determined. Hopeless romantic. Industrious. Warm and compassionate. Patient and tolerant. Do or die attitude. Inquisitive and intuitive. Faithful friend. Sharp thinker. Emotional lover. Secretive. Active. You like to enjoy life to the fullest. Easy going. Attractive personality.”
I kind of like that. It’s got a little truth in it, I must say. Funny, how one of the words is inquisitive, for I do in fact ask many questions. That is to say, I am, as dictionary.com puts it, eager for knowledge. I would say I am secretive -- for reasons that will remain un-divulged, of course. Active: tennis/drums/some running. When I finally do find that special someone, I would like to be an emotional lover, not a bland piece of human creation made to mitosis the heck out of myself. Enjoying life to the fullest would be my supreme occupation, however boring my particulars would be to others. I don’t know about sharp thinker, but I like to think I have an imaginative mind. You tell me if I have an attractive personality, Lord knows I don’t have to attract myself!
I’ve always enjoyed taking personality quizzes, ever since I was young. There’s something in the act of finding out more about yourself through a medium other than your thoughts. Almost like a confirmation of what you’ve always wanted to hear, or sadly expected to hear (or happily expected to hear). The more knowledge you have of yourself makes you feel more in control. And who wouldn’t want that? After all, at least for me, one of the scariest feelings is the feeling of being at the entrance of insanity or is it the jump off from sanity? However way you look at it, the feeling is just as scary as the feeling you get going to bed in a dark room just after watching a scary that movie that you’ve realized was a regret.
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