Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Looking back and sorting through

Over the last couple of days I have been going through a lot of files and papers to shed some of the bulk before I move (ever so soon). In the process, I've discovered a couple of things. First, I've read a lot of papers about a lot of different things over the years and had a lot of ideas about a lot of stuff. For the last several months I've been so busy working to finish the code for my dissertation that I haven't had a chance to actually do any research. I'm really looking forward to getting back into research when I start at GMU.

I also came across an old story that I wrote when I was in college. There has been some talk lately about how much I've changed since I first started at Penn, so the general theme of it kind of echoed for me. It makes me wonder how much the core of a person actually changes versus how much they just adapt a few behaviors to fit the circumstances they find themselves in. Or is there even a difference?



"Chameleon"

She walks home from a business luncheon at a chic new low calorie French restaurant. The sun reflects off her shiny metallic sun glasses like the glare off a saber. Her spiked heels try to pierce the sidewalk with every step. Her electrified hair juts from her head like miniature swords. Her make-up can be seen from further away than her canary yellow dress. Her fingers, tipped with long, pointed finger nails, curl around the handle of a snake skin brief case.

As she passes a construction site, she whistles and makes rude comments to the workers. One of the workers becomes distracted by her, and drives a nail through his thumb. She sees this mishap, but walks on. The man's screaming cuts through the air, as she reaches the door to her town house.

She unlocks the door and goes in. As she passes through the kitchen she lays down her briefcase and picks up a bag of marshmallows. She enters the bedroom and closes the door. When she emerges a few minutes later, she is completely changed. Her canary yellow dress has been traded for a pair of faded blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Her spiked heels are now bunny slippers with floppy ears. Her make-up has been replaced by soft, smooth skin. Silky auburn curls cascade over her shoulders.

She takes the bag of marshmallows into the backyard. She sits in the cool shadow of an elm tree to eat. Sunning himself on the stone beside her is a snake. When she sees him, she almost jumps out of her skin. She goes back into the house closing the door behind her.

She turns on her favorite soap opera, and relaxes on the fluffy, powder blue sofa. A tear runs down her cheek when Steel breaks up with Jessica for the fifth time. She blushes when they renew their relationship for the twenty fifth time this week.

The telephone rings. It is her mother calling from Iowa. She turns off the television. Her mother tells her about the Simpson's divorce and the Harting's new baby. Then she asks about her daughter's adventures in the big city. In a timid voice, she begins to tell her about the luncheon. Her mother scolds her for talking to softly, and begins her weekly lecture about protecting herself in the big city. Only her mother knows the scared little girl that trembles inside that ferocious business woman. Her mother's pies are burning, so they hang up.

The low calorie lunch did not tame her hunger, and the marshmallows are gone, so she puts a frozen pizza in the microwave. The buzzer sounds and she take it out. She grabs a knife and tries to cut it, but the knife is too dull. She tries another. It is too dull. She tries another and another. All of them are too dull to cut the pizza, so she folds it in half and takes a bite.

When she is done eating the pizza, she calls her accountant and demands the figures on the Manson account be finished by tomorrow. If they are not, she personally will toss him and his calculator from the window of her fiftieth floor corner office. Then she hangs up with a sigh.

She cannot allow him or any one else to know what she is really like. She is afraid they will not like her. She does not know if she likes herself. The personality she has adopted does not care whether or not any one likes her. It protects her from all of the harshness of other people, from their actions and their brutal, cutting words. She tries to cut other people so they cannot cut her.

Her adopted personality protects her from a cruel business world. When it closes another factory to cut costs, the people it sees sleeping in boxes on the street do not make a difference. It does not hesitate, when it tears down an orphanage, and the children are moved to a crowded inner-city facility. It allows her to separate herself from the cruelties of her job, and the cruelties of life. Her second personality is the shield that protects her from all of the swords of this world, but how deep has she been cut by her own sharp edges?

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Another rainy day

Today was yet another rainy day. I spent much of it programming, but took a break to try to take some pictures of the rain.





Then later in the afternoon, I decided to take another break and go for a walk. This is actually I very interesting tree...
I tend to like leaves too.
Bees were out and about in between showers too...

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Home for the weekend

I went home to the farm for the weekend.

I spent one afternoon sitting on the patio with my laptop and camera. I did some programming and took some pictures while waiting for the code to compile.


I played a bit with lack of focus...
The entire time a cute, little kitten was keeping me company and meowing constantly...
In the evening, my younger brother, Kevin, and his family came up. Here my dad, brother, and nephew are playing tractors in the yard. Oh, and of course there is that kitten...
When he noticed I was taking pictures, Grant started making faces at me, but I got a fairly normal shot in...
Next to the patio, there always seem to be a few hummingbirds...
And Sara likes to be where the people are...
Grant took a short break...
Before racing his dad...


Not exactly a fair race.

I think this was the only moment the kitten was quiet the whole weekend...
I got a couple of more pictures in as the sun set...

The next day more lounging on the patio and roaming into the yard now and then to take a couple of pictures...
And in the two seconds I was gone to drive my older brother, Ed, over to pick up the dump truck, our neighbor dropped off 3 quarts of freshly picked strawberries...
If you haven't eaten them just minutes after they left the vine, then you haven't really tasted nice ripe juicy strawberries.

All and all, not a bad weekend even though my code isn't quite fixed yet.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Letting go

I rediscovered this old radio while looking for things to take to GoodWill in preparation for my impending move. I believe I've had it since the 3rd grade or so. I remember carrying it around the playground a fair amount during the 4th and 5th grades and spending hours in my room and in the barn recording songs from the radio. It was a great little radio. It still is. It may be a little rough around the edges, but it functions just as well as the day I got it. Should I return it to its trunk coffin as a memeto of days gone by or should I give it away and hope that it find a new kid to entertain? I take a few snapshots of it and let it go.


And what does one do with an old gum wrapper chain that is hundreds of feet long?
Throw it away, I guess.