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a smile from a veil

June 19, 2012

I am feeling pretty incredible. Not the simple dopamine dumping automatic kind of incredible that rings itself into existence on a sunny day or after sex or during caramel apples; it’s this double helix of greater complexity and gentler payoff that apparently rears its magnificent head only after you work your ass off and probably do some things you have no inclination for, in the name of greater good and staunch spined self sufficiency. I, even I, am the owner of a sensor socket.

I have a sensor socket because tomorrow I am going over to my dad’s friend’s house, and I will probably get lost because it is on some strange cross section of McLoughlin that I have not dared to tread since my return from SF or really even before if I am being perfectly honest, and he is going to teach me how to change my oxygen sensors and my mass air flow sensor. The mass air flow sensor is easy, you just more or less pop the old one off and pop the new one in, just like that, pop pop. Robert says it will probably take three minutes and I could totally do it myself, but because it is my car and the delight of my eyes I would like someone who knows what they are doing in a muscle memory sort of way instead of just an I saw it on the internet sort of way show me how to do it the first time. The oxygen sensors are supposed to be awfully easy to change also, unless some dumbass that went before has welded the wrong type in. I think about the patch job my car’s roof had when I first bought it, and I shudder just a bit. FINGERS XING.

In other news, it is finished.

Selah.

Spring is dead long live the summer.

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On days like today I really do wish that there was something printed somewhere that would give me exactly what I need, which is some motherfucking direction on this motherfucking plane. It’s not like I am changing my major (again) or quitting my job or going directly off the edge of some other crazy cliff, it’s just that my life is currently to the point where most shit is handled and everything there is to do is either one of two finals or not very important. And this is making me squirrelly. As much as any theist I enjoy the presence of some automatic purpose in my life. Some people get off on doing what ‘god’ ‘says,’ other people get off on working body mind and soul into the ground for the thrill of the challenge and the love of the game. My number one game is going on summer sabbatical, and suddenly I’m looking around wondering what the damn hell I’m going to do for the next three months that can help me keep as self actualized and fulfilled as a stable school load. Because there is no way I am going to spend this summer simply dicking around. As soon as that last test is conquered I am going to go out in scandalous clothing in extravagant colors and whoop it the fuck up, but the entire point of whooping it up in the first place is that you just got out of something important and you’re heading right back into it. I can’t deal with a summer of insignificance, is what I think. I want to go chop wood or something. Make sandworlds for small children. Deliver breakfast burritos to homeless folk. Squeeze an entire tube of toothpaste into the sink.

I am too a merry sunshine.

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a magnetic mix tape

June 8, 2012

Hey Kate, I took the boots out.

This is what they saw:

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anyway the wind blows

June 8, 2012

Today as I was driving to work I suddenly realized that I was fantasizing about being pulled over by a cop. I realized this after about three minutes of unencumbered stream of consciousness imaginary law enforcement discourse, which had apparently begun with oh hey officer and dwindled immediately into a tale of woe about my car. I think I may need a special kind of therapist. My relationship with my car is certainly one of the most complex in my life, and an awfully lot of my stress level and damn cash dance attendance on her like wishes in the wind. Huh.

So I stopped having my imaginary discourse with Deputy Hammer, and I turned on the radio. This does not always happen when I go to work in the morning. It’s always super hard for me to decide between the sounds of outside and music when I’m in the car or walking; I love the sounds of outside and I work bravely and in near perfect satisfaction without them for eight hours a day, but then – sometimes you just HAVE to have something to groove through as you move. So this morning I turned on the radio and it gave me Free Falling and I almost cried because god I love that song. And it had just started, and it got me halfway to work, and it was awesome. AND THEN the radio gave me Come Sail Away and I have been headbanging ever since. It is my opinion that all Fridays should begin with headbanging.

ALSO: (possible source of current office chair crash dance) I have had a Lucky Charms Marshmallow Bar for breakfast. If you don’t believe that these exist, which I have to admit I also had a hard time with momentarily even with the damn thing in front of my face,

BAM.

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leaves on the scene

June 4, 2012

And I’m just dying for some chaos. I feel like my life is currently a perfectly executed house of cards, and with good reason. I’ve been holding my breath placing each layer just so for months now and suddenly it’s perfect and I’m bored. It’s not that I want the whole thing to come tumbling down, really, it’s just that I don’t like it standing there all symmetrical and completely alone day after day. I truly am as fickle as the breeze that I long for, to take the perky peak off the top of my cardboard castle.

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May

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I definitely feel most at home in the humanistic theories of personality psychology. Although it’s easy to see the effects of biological and behavioral etiologies on human development, I think that the majority of positive development springs from the human will to evolve and improve and the motivation to actually carry these desires out through action. One of the reasons I am interested in psychology in the first place is that I think that all or at least most ‘evil’ behavior has its roots in a complex tangle of genetic inheritance, environment, and experience; and I think that most if not all dysfunctional behavior can be understood, empathized with, acknowledged and overcome. These beliefs keep me going when the world seems too harsh and ugly to love, and I have never found a situation that refused to eventually respond with a stream of cracked open positivity to compassion and a genuine desire to understand and love.

I think that there are obvious learned mechanics to each personality, because we are all to some extent the products of our environments. But I am a flower through the sidewalk believer. I am inspired every day by stories of people who had no support or encouragement and even faced consistent, devastating obstacles and yet survived, flourished, and triumphed. The human being is not merely a product of its environment because there are so many situations in which a person is in all logic set up to fail from childhood onward and instead uses each obstacle as a stepping stone toward greater experience and deeper understanding of the world. There are also people who have been given it all from day one, people who from a behaviorist perspective are set up to succeed brilliantly and widely, and instead squander their resources and opportunities. The mechanical behaviorist process has its place within all of us and should never be underestimated, but there is no way it will ever encompass the indefinable, indefatigable human spirit.

Maslow’s hierarchy of needs completely resonates with me. The concept that basic needs must be met first in order to achieve the highest human potential is for the most part painfully accurate. For example, it is very difficult for me to study if my house is not clean and it is almost impossible for me to go to a party and enjoy myself if my homework isn’t done. None of these things go well if I’ve neglected my eating and am riding the edge of a hypoglycemic crash. The hierarchy of needs as posited by Maslow is very accurate in my opinion. However, I just want to point out that again, it cannot account for the human spirit and will. Not every hero, known or unsung, has had all of his basic needs met before he committed himself to acts of soaring beauty and altruism. Some of the most amazing wisdom and works the world has ever seen have come from the poorest, most desperate places. I agree with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs but I do not deem it to be absolutely necessary to achieve the highest personal potential; necessity after all is the mother of much invention.

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