November 30th, 2001

reeciebastion

White from the sky...

It's snowing.

There's drunken football players cheering and making other assorted loud noise outside my window. Thursday is the first night of the weekend here, since there are few classes on Friday. Which means that everyone with few or no classes goes out and gets gibbered on Thursday night. Fun, really. For them, I must assume.

Wow. More. They've seen my light, too, and now they're yelling up at my window. >.< *closes the window*

I watched both versions of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas tonight. The Jim Carry one (which I have to say, I didn't really like - they made it rather over-complicated, and slapstick kinda ruins the Grinch's typical charm... also, why does the Grinch need a love-interest with silicon implants?! Well... I'm sure they *tried*... o.O) with my floor, and after that, with Carolyn, Keltie, and most of Third, the original. Which is Good. The version we watched also had that short about the elephant talking to a speck of dust on a clover which just happens to be an entire Universe. You know; and all the other animals in the jungle try to lock him away for talking to non-existent Whos? And try to boil the speck of dust?

Heh heh. We were watching the bit where the monkeys are singing about free enterprise and Keltie and I, in unison, said something to the effect of: "Oh, no; this isn't political at *all*...", dripping with sarcasm.

Seriously, though, Seuss was like a somewhat more subtle Orwell, but for kids. Sort of. I mean, look at that one about the two guys on either side of the wall, each holding a weapon that could totally destroy the other's country. No; no Cold War references at *all*... I could be mistaken, but wasn't most of Seuss written in the fifties and sixties? Seriously, someone tell me. I'm not sure.

Third floor, I assume, went out and had a snowball fight at like eleven PM. When it started. Actually, it started around ten. It's been snowing for *checks watch* more than four hours now, and it doesn't show any signs of stopping. In fact, it's getting heavier. Gods, is it ever going to be deep when I get up tomorrow...

...good thing I'm closer to Nicholson now. o.O

Keltie and Carolyn were trying in vain to get me excited about the snowfall. I'll give them this; they tried bloody hard. But snow doesn't really cheer me up anymore. Especially when I know it's still gonna be there in like two weeks, and that snow here actually comes hand-in-hand with *actual* cold. Blech.

Yeah, Lise was right, West-coasters are pansies. ;)

It is pretty - I tried to take a bunch of pictures from the laundry room window (the one room on the floor with no lights and a lovely broad windowsill), looking down on the hundred-year-old courtyard with all the stone angels in it. Well, my camera sucks. So do the pictures. Ah, well. I tried.

For some reason, though, frozen white stuff falling and covering everything with cold sort of depresses me. No, wait, not some reason. I know the reason.

My mind tends to wander. I should be more careful with where I let it go. And I should stop dwelling on things I can't change. I know that. Really, I do. It's just that when I get into these particular states of mind and can't even go out and run it off, it being so cold I'd probably get pneumonia (gods, I can't wait 'til the Milennium Centre is finished... 24-hour indoor track, yeah...), I sort've have to dwell.

Distraction, that's what I need. Exercise, also. And... y'know... solutions. Damnitall.

Nobody seems to have noticed that I posted more Demon's Blood. Ah, well. That wasn't really the good bit, anyway.

And I will *not* go trawling through old SubCafe list posts, viewing old feedback for the sole purpose of patting my ego. I. Will. Not. Nope.

Nope. I'll go to bed instead and have that freaky dream again. Maybe when I wake up I'll be able to write something vaguely worthwhile.
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reeciebastion

Hobbit Names

My real name got me:

Orangeblossom Gamgee Whitfurrows (I didn't know they had oranges in Middle Earth... o.O)

And my other name got me:

Petunia Broadbelt of Buckland

I think I like the first one better...

They're drilling in the hallway. >.
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reeciebastion

In matters of faith and cheesecake...

...I think I scared Carolyn today.

We argue a lot. Not real arguing, more like hashing-out arguing. Arguing about conflicting points of religion. I'm (for the most part) Wiccan. She's Catholic. Really, really Catholic. (Except; she went to a Catholic high school in Ottawa. Which I think makes her a "special" Catholic. ;) You know, not a raving lunatic Catholic. Just really... sorta... well, anyway...)

We have these arguments - she calls it "God-wrestling", which is kinda cute, actually - but just when I feel I'm making a point, she gets all worried-looking and sputtery, like she's running out of arguments and is really distressed about it. This is usually, in most discussions of the type, the moment where she'd come up with something else or change the topic. Which usually, is what happens. Because Carolyn, faithful as she thinks she is, doesn't really, I think, define most of what she believes by anything completely definite inside herself. Which I find kinda sad, but that's largely the way it works on that side, and I guess I can't pass judgements.

Sometimes, though, at that point, I actually get to *make* my point. Sometimes she even agrees with me. I admit, most of my argumentative victories over Carolyn are theoretical ones; more along the lines of "accept the possibility, not just consider it". And I like that, I like to win, because I feel a little like I'm helping to expand her horizons. Her high school did a lot of visiting other-denominational churches and studying other religions - but what I think she doesn't understand is that of course, a Catholic school would have taught these things through a Catholic eyeglass.

And there's nothing wrong with that. Except that Carolyn thinks she's open-minded about other religions, and she's really not. Not... not really. She says she's open-minded, I think (I don't *know*, mind you) because it's *right*, by her definitions (also, politically correct, since she lived in Ottawa for four years) to *say* that, it's *right* to be that way, at least to try. She's very firmly-engrained, and takes her dogma seriously even if she doesn't take it literally. (*That's* good, I'll give her.) She can argue for her point of view, but only to a point, within certain parameters. (I, on the other hand, tend to argue past the point of insanity. ;) And, most importantly (and what I despair of finding a way to explain to her without sounding like a self-righteous bitch) is that just because she studied it in high school does not make her an *expert*. That just because she studied other religions, other cultures, does not mean that she *understands* them. I know she knows what ethnocentrism is - we did it for two weeks in the same Sociology class - but she doesn't really *understand* it on a deep-down level, because she's been learning how to mentally solidify her own ethnocentrism in terms of her religion for her entire life.

It wouldn't be so bad if she could just *admit* it.

(I wasn't raised in *any* specific religion. *Any*. That gives me either a skewed or slightly less biased - I'm not really sure which - point of view as far as religion is concerned. I think. I *chose* the one I sort of follow, and I see it more as a philosophy than a religion. Religion is political. My beliefs aren't. My beliefs are based on what I see as reason, and some big chunks of instinct.)

I keep trying to get her to accept the concept of non-culture. The idea that before you can fully understand other cultures, other religions, you have to drop all pre-conceptions, all of the perceptions of your own culture. And I won't deny that that's a horribly difficult thing to do, especially if you've been raised Catholic. It's highly dogmatic, very structured. But traditionally it makes it difficult to see anything from a different point of view. (I'm quoting Durkheim. Gods help me.) Ideally, in order to prove yourself right, you have to accept not only the possibility, but the probability, that everything you believe is wrong. Completely. The only way, in my opinion, to affirm your faith is to constantly question it. That's why when she shoots back at me that I'm being hypocritical for not accepting Catholicism as the theoretical "one, true way" I say that I can accept the possibility, not the probability. Because there being no absolute truths, it can't be impossible that she's right. But I don't believe it's likely. Improbable. Not impossible.

At lunch today we had one of our more rousing arguments - except Keltie and some guy from her floor (whose name, I'm afraid, I can't remember, even though he was a good debater and seemed, somehow, to be on my side, sort of) were there too, and every time I started to reach one of the points where with just Carolyn and I, we would simply go to a new level. But at those points, the ones where you have to throw Carolyn a curve ball to get her to take the next step in consideration, take that little leap people usually need to take in order to really understand something (even just a *theoretical argument, damnit...*) Keltie would scold me for being narrow-minded. Which is just the exact *opposite* of what I was doing.

I get that from a lot of people. I wonder if that means something. o.O

Carolyn likes to toss about moral absolutes like they're absolute to everyone. The challenge is to get her to see the possibility that she's mistaken.

I mean, sure, as far as this particular reality goes, there are some things that can be *considered* absolutes. Like, for example, you shouldn't kill people for no reason. But there's really always a reason, whether that reason is because the person is a serial killer, because the victim "deserved it", or because someone just thinks killing is *fun*. But there's always extenuating circumstances. I admit there are some things where I wouldn't stop to even *consider* the extenuating circumstances involved, because of personal inclination. Some things are just... well, just wrong. But still, that's *my* absolute. A personal one. And personal beliefs are... well... personal. Belief is just that. Not really an absolute. I...

...I have gone off on a twisty, spirally tangent. Yikes. Back to it...

I try not to make absolute statements. And if I did, I did it by accident. But nowhere did I say that I was right and she was wrong. The entire PREMISE of the ENTIRE FREAKING ARGUMENT was THEORETICAL. Ergo, no absolutes. Sigh. I hate it when people sit on the edge of conversations for the express purpose of picking at the flaws in someone's argument.

I know how paranoid it is to think that once I left them after lunch they were talking about me - in an unflattering light. Really, I *know* that.

Possibility and probability. Sigh.
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reeciebastion

My head hurts...

...along with my neck and my shoulders and most of my upper back. I have *no* idea why. But it really hurts. *frown* I took ibuprophen, I've got a Magic Bag on it, nothing. Ow, ow, ow... I think it's a stress headache. From many, many things.

Argh. Somebody shoot me in the head, please?
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