I drink, therefore I am...

lol. Wow. I'm sure Descartes would love me right now. So, here's my theory, and stick with me, all you budding philosphers. In 1637 Descartes realized that in his dreams he appeared as real to himself as he was in life. Ergo, a question arose: was his waking self merely dreaming of a life-like Descartes? Or was the life-like dream the reality, and life the fictional part? He concluded, "Je pense, danc je suis". Because he only considered the paradox in waking hours, he decided that life must be the reality. "I think, therefore, I am". He was not the first philosopher to think so. Zhuangzi first brought it up in 300 BC--he dreamed he was a butterfly, and upon waking wondered, is Zhuangzi the man dreaming of butterflies? Or a butterfly dreaming of men? (word out to my chinese homies--this chinese philosophy shit rocks -_-) Anyway, back to my point, which albeit a long time coming, is this: when is the truth most revealed? In a waking state, or in dreams; in confusion or clarity? I made some observations over this incredibly drunken Chinese New Year that people act considerably different while inebriated than at any time while sober. And although I doubt you've entertained this philosophic plane, I imagine you've had a version of this conversation before. It's a common party topic. Do people really do what is true to them when they're wasted? Are they really normal people that are affected by alcohol, OR...are they really themselves when drunk, and only "normal" when under societal constraints (i/e: the judgment that can only be ignored while under the influence, etc). I ask myself this question because I notice that I act radically different in drunken situations. Amplified in some ways, but, perhaps revealed in others. Hence my conclusion to the question: "I drink, therefore, I am". I think to some extent our true selves are the drunken ones (much we hate to admit it). When I remember the drunkest, craziest, most embarrassing times, I really can't remember why I drank that much or acted that way, except, maybe in some way, I needed to. The repression of self is a powerful thing, and what better to release it than a medium that A) Doesn't let you realize you're doing it and B)Lets you forget most of it later. = ) Why not let ourselves go when we can blame it on the bitter dregs later: no one the wiser to whether it really was the alcohol, and whether we really don't remember. It's pretty safe to dream about being a butterfly when you know you'll wake up on the ground.

Still freaking out about this. This final personal statement I have to do needs to be one page, single-spaced. My English teacher in High School got mad over one of our papers once. It could have been any length, but at least two pages double-spaced, reviewing one of the books we read. Being the slackers that we were, most kids only wrote the minimum two pages. He never yelled, really, but you could tell he was upset at our lack of effort. He said something to the effect of, "I expect whatever you write to be well thought-out, intensely reviewed, and deeply felt. If you think you can give that to me in only two pages, then it had better be pure poetry". Pure Poetry. That's what I hear in my head as I try to cram every inch of my hard work and worth and God-I'm-Trying effort into one single-spaced, single page statement about myself.

"But words came halting forth,
Wanting invention's stay,
Invention, nature's child,
Fled step-dame Study's blows,
Biting my truant pen,
Beating myself for spite,
"Fool", said my Muse to me, "Look in thy heart and write".

When I was growing up my sister had a paper cutout pinned to the wall, "You miss 100% of the shots you never take". She was a basketball player, so I think she orinigally put it up there for the game, but it's kind of always echoed in my head. Especially this year. 2006's been a hard year for me--putting myself out there, taking some risks. Now, risks concerning my safety don't bother me so much. Tell me you're sending me to a war-torn or high-risk country; I'll ask how soon I can leave. But...the whole being rejected thing is SUCH a different risk. I'm sitting here, for the second time this year, filling out an application. Totally frozen. It just freaks me out to think that you could put everything you've ever done on the line, put yourself out there, and have some institution tell you you're not good enough. But I guess shit happens. You can't judge yourself on the random things that happen in life. I don't necessarily believe in fate, but I do think that as humans we won't let ourselves remain in a position that isn't what we want. If I want a high-paying job, then no matter what degree I get or where I go, somewhere, somehow, I will find a way to get the money, because that's what's important to me. Same with anything else. I think we all eventually end up somewhere around the mark that we want to be, because we can't stand to be anywhere else. It might not be where we thought a few years ago, but nonetheless it works out. So I guess our conclusion is SUCK IT UP. You miss 100% of the shots you never take, and what's the point of playing the game if you aren't going to take any shots. Wish me luck.

PS- I've got a great and slightly dark quote from Kipling this week. He was speaking in response to what happens to man when he feels free even from his own morals, "Who watches the Watchmen?"; meeting Kurtz, sort of thing....

Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst,
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an' a man can raise a thirst;
For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be --
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, looking lazy at the sea
--Kipling, Mandalay

Semester at Sea

So, everyone has those random little ideas that you think, "hey, I'd love to do that". Well, my problem for the most part is that I do them. Like flying to New York for four days with no money just to see if I could do it. Or deciding within two weeks of departure that, sure, I'd spend the summer in Peru. And now, it's come to this. At WSC the other night, MI went around the table and said our New Year's resolutions. I decided that besides the normal boring stuff, I should pick some really random thing that I've always wanted to do, and just throw it out there. So I did--A Semester at Sea. Have you ever seen White Squall? Seriously, I have this weird, constant dream of someday being on a boat like that, learning how to sail. 110, 120 foot schooner made out of wood, with a handful of students like myself. Of course, I've never thought if it's feasible or not, but thanks to my big mouth and bigger love of the unknown, I did some research. Turns out, this is definitely possible. Not exactly for this year, because the semesters have already started and the berths are full. But no joke, if I really wanted to, I could get on the 80 day voyage for next summer, 2007. It sails from Togo to Figi to Bora Bora and some other random islands. I could earn 12-16 credits. With that much time in advance, I could apply for financial aid and other resources to cover the $15,000 expense. I could really spend a semester at sea (and wouldn't have to miss my "real" classes back at the U, since I'd go in the summer). How freaking awesome is that? The only other plans I had for Summer 2007 was a TN to China. But I was also playing with the idea of doing that in Summer 2008 after I graduate. You know, when I can't find a job around here so I'm forced to use AIESEC for 18 months to get my feet on the ground. =) Seriously, I could do this. It wouldn't fulfill this year's resolution, but it'd certainly be checking something off the "Things to Do Before I Die" list. Ships ahoy, maties. All hands to starboard....

A-Team!!!

DAMN RIGHT. = ) Wow, WSC was such a freakin blast. Good times, good times. It's always crazy good to see everyone that you haven't seen in a year (or a few months, for the Rowdies). Very cool to bring 5 newbies to conference and show them the CRAZINESS that is our world. Hanging out with OOOOOO AUSTIN-ites the last few days--Clarali and Rusty hanging out at my place. Yeah, that's right. We took a 6 hour bus ride home from Dayton just to go to class...and...drum roll please....I went to all of them!! Damn. Don't even do that on the average day. Now I'm home, trying to figure out anything that'll resemble a major, and just chilling with some sweet books. Reading everybody's blog. Etc. Blah. Take 9. *click*
Wow
STAY FLY!
(jeff d. rocks....even if he is a crazy cubs fan....;P)
AIESEC TAKES FLIGHT.