Pre-Halloween madness, Sublime, Societal Standards, and Lady Gaga

Hm, sooo, it's the day of Halloween. From the blog I posted two days prior, I gave the impression that I wouldn't be writing much until AFTER Halloween, but unfortunately my brain really never stops talking. Consequently, I still have much to say.

One night Alex (my roomie) posted a status with a line from "Santeria" by Sublime.
I've always really liked this song, but now I'm kind of addicted to it. I love how it's got this really catchy melody, but the lyrics are so spiteful. Love the irony. When I listen to it, I always think of all the people I hate, and I feel a little better. I guess "hate" may be too strong a word... perhaps, more accurately, I think about the people who have in some way wronged me.
Whatever.

This song is so good. I adore it. I was attempting to learn the solo on guitar, but I am really not a proficient guitarist. I could learn it in time. I took the chords to the piano and I had much more progress with said solo.
The solo in this song is really such good musical material. I love all these little folk songs I'm able to play, but I need complexity. I want to move beyond three or four chord songs. I like real bluesy solos like this.

I dunno, maybe it's weird of me to like this song. I'm not sure if Sublime is a kind of druggie's band or not. I was reading about the lead singer on Wikipedia, and apparently he died of a drug overdose... Sigh. Why are so many potentially great men privy to such desires of the flesh? Imagine if he was still alive, and the awesome music he could be making.
But, some might argue, that if he had not been a crazy druggie, perhaps he would not have been able to write the great music he did. But this kind of leads to the idea that drugs are a must in creative expression, which is something I strongly disagree with.
I'm not entirely savvy on Conor Oberst's biography, but I'm fairly certain that he has experimented with drugs at some point in his life.
I wonder, however, if perhaps he touched on this point in "The Big Picture:"
"So go ahead and lose yourself in liquor, and you can praise the clouded mind, but it isn't what you're thinking - no - it's the course of history, your position in line. You're just a piece of the puzzle, so I think you'd better find your place. And don't go blaming your knowledge on some fruit you ate."

Eh, I really don't know.
I really think it's fascinating to talk about drugs and their effects on the arts/life in general.
Sometimes I wonder why certain drugs are considered socially or legally acceptable (caffeine, liqour, tobacco, etc) while others are not. I hesitate to even bring this argument up, because I think some potheads use it to justify marijuana. but it is a perfectly valid question.
Then again, the answer could be fairly simple: The drugs that are socially acceptable don't impair the mind as much as those that are illegal. But, this too can be debated.

PLEASE NOTE, I don't plan on doing drugs nor have I ever done them in the past. But these are interesting questions to consider. Society is fascinating. This is one of the reasons why anthropology is so interesting to me. So that I could see how certain taboos developed. How one thing became the norm and something else became abnormal.

WOW, I REALLY DIGRESS. Then again, I didn't really come here with a set topic. Just wanted to say that "Santeria" is a kick-ass song. and it's awesome. and some background info.

whatever.

In regard to my future, I've been SOMEWHAT proactive the past few days. I've been looking through the majors/schools catalogues for Madison, checking certain requirements, etc. Some of them are so intimidating. Some sound lovely. Some sound horrible.

I had a dream that I had decided to go into Art Education. Which is strange because that night I had looked up that exact major in the Catalogue...
I think Art Education would be fun. Or Music Ed. The only problem with Education of any kind is that a) I really lack patience b) if I'm allowed to say this without saying vain... most things sort of come naturally for me, so it'd be difficult to try to explain HOW I understand something. but who knows. It's something to consider.

Someone is listening to Lady Gaga down the hallway, so now I want to too... (Wow, ADD...)

Liberal Arts Degrees and 98 Degrees

Since coming to college, I've become more and more acquainted with the distinct possibility that higher education nowadays is pointless.

Don't get me wrong; I love education. I love being in school, and I love to learn. I wish I could just stay in school forever and continue to learn. but unfortunately no one would really want to sponsor my indefinite learning--unless of course, I proved some remarkable genius for it, which won't likely be happening. I have to face the fact that I need to one day assimilate into "the real world."

Lately, I've just been under this sad impression that a Liberal Arts degree--that thing which I had longed for so long in high school--serves relatively little purpse in "the real world."
Let me explain. The other day, my friend Sami and I were discussing possible majors, future plans, etc. We were saying something about how Grad school is becoming more and more of a necessity.

"You know, what," I had said, "it seems that liberal arts degrees are just a means to an end. They don't hold the same value they once did."
"I remember one time we had a speaker come to our high school," Sami replied, "and he said that a Liberal Arts degree nowadays is basically what a High School Dipolma used to be."

What she meant was that so many people have College Degrees, that they are virtually meaningless in gaining an "edge" over others. If you want a real "edge," you've gotta go to grad school or something like that.


I went to a CCAS (Cross-College Advising Service) meeting the other day, which was by all accounts pointless. However, I did glean a little bit from it. The lady said that "A liberal arts degree, in classical times, was something that only the extreme elite would receive!"
I thought about how much of a joke that is now. "Extreme elite"? Everybody gets a degree...

This is partially the reason I am looking into so-called "Pre-professional" programs--ie, Engineering. Or possibly Medicine (which would involve getting an undergrad and THEN moving on to Med school) I guess it'd just be nice to know that I'm working toward a tangible goal, and that I have a basic idea about the type of career I'm going to have.
I would absolutely love to major in English or Philosophy or Linguistics or any of those things, but career possiblities are so broad that it scares me. I don't want to graduate with an English degree and end up selling cars. I don't want to get a Philosophy degree only to become a manager of some business.
Do you see what I'm saying? At least with engineering, or medecine, I know exactly where I'm headed. Maybe it's not EXACTLY how I had pictured my future, but it is a pretty exact picture OF my future.
I really do love the idea of a Liberal Arts Degree. I think it's fantastic--studying a broad range of topics, taking a broad range of courses.
I like taking lots and lots of different things just because I love learning. I really don't want to narrow down my course range to what's required for some pre-professional degree.

and I guess the main question is this:
is remaining in school and getting some degree that I'm only half sure of worth it? financially? I am not a materialist person. Money is meaningless to me so long as I am doing what I love to do.


I don't know. I don't mean to crush anyone's dreams or to appear so pathetically jaded. I'm just expressing some doubts I have.
I'm definitely not going to just drop out of school either.
I just need some direction. I am in this gigantic research institution, with lots of great programs, but I'm not sure exactly where I'm heading. and I have not the time or the money to flounder around searching for it.


HM, Well this was not a very optmistic or cheery blog! so, here is a STEAMY PICTURE OF 90's BOY BAND, 98 Degrees! I searched for "degree" in Google images and this picture came up. hahaha. it was pretty amusing. enjoy.

I swear I won't say what happened that night.

WARNING, DISTURBING IMAGE WILL FOLLOW:

(view at your own risk)

I've attached a photo of the burn I mentioned in the previous blog, so that everyone can see how B-A it is. It's amazing that WATER could wreak

such havoc...

To balance it out, I've also attached a really pretty photograph from one of those girly photo blogs I have been obsessing about lately! I don't know what it is about such blogs, but they are so addicting. They have such wonderful photography and art and pithy little life sayings. It makes me want to take an art class again. :(

Additionally, I'm sorry if the layout is a little out of whack. I am really not HTML-savvy, or any of those things, so some of the spacings/alignings may be a bit off.

Mm, anyways, I was just listening to "Cross My Heart" by the Rocket Summer, and I don't really care what anyone says about it. That will always be one of my favorite songs ever. It just reminds me of youth and freedom and being so wistful and naive. and it's just such a feel good song!

mmmm, endorphins...

Don't have much else to say, but I'm sure I will after this weekend. Saturday will be my first Halloween on State Street! haha, I should probably be a little scared.

My friend Sara is being Juno, and I'm going to be Bleaker, HER BABY'S DADDY. I'm really excited. We went out to Ragstock today to purchase some yellow running shorts and a red/maroon sweatshirt. We tried modeling our respective costumes, and it looked pretty stellar, if I do say so myself. Pictures will be an absolute must, of course. :) :)

The stars have aligned in such a fashion that I have no classes tomorrow!, but sleep sound so lovely. This week has been utterly exhausting.

Goodnight

he took one look at my face and said "I can fix that hole in you"

THE FOLLOWING POST is a little lengthy, and it is much less philosophical than the last. It's much more in the nature of storytelling. Today was a day worthy of such a blog post, as you'll see...


If there is some kind award for the most awkward freshman, I think I should win it.
I'm beginning to wonder whether or not I have the adaptability to handle enormous transitional periods...

I don't think there was a more horrible way to begin this day.
So, first I woke up to some banging down the hallway, about an hour before my alarm went off. It was incessant. Apparently, someone had been locked out. But how he managed to wake me up without waking his roommate up is beyond me...
But, this wasn't a huge deal; I fell back asleep and woke up on time.
I headed over to Frank's for some breakfast. I even brought my Chemistry notes so as to utilize my time wisely! (unfortunately, as you'll see, this hindered me more than anything...)
I had just finished paying for my food at the cashier station and was about to sit down. I grabbed my cup filled with hot water (for tea!), but I must have been moving ENTIRELY too fast, and it consequently spilled all over my right hand.
"Oh my, are you okay?" the cashier had asked dispassionately.
"Yeah, I think I'm fine," I said, somewhat nonchalantly. I was going to add that spilled water was the least of my worries today. Unfortunately, the opposite would be true.
As I was walking away, I started to lose grip of my tray with my left hand. I don't quite remember how it happened, but I dropped my entire tray of food. It was horrible. And there I was, in the cafetria, the shattering still resounding among the superficial din of the room. I wanted to fucking cry. I was so incredibly stressed out, and that was the last thing that needed to happen.
I immediately set my books down on a nearby table, and ran back to my dumped tray. Thankfully, a student-employee had already begun to sweep it up. He told me not to worry about it.
I later found some friends from my dorm, and asked them what I was supposed to do now. They said I could take a new tray of food at no extra charge; it wasn't a big deal. However, in this short conversation, I noticed that the skin on my hand had begun to tear and fold away, exposing the delicate pink flesh underneath. Oh shit.
"That looks really bad," Alyssa, a girl from my dorm, had said.
"Yeah, I'd definitely get that looked at," Joey added.
"But I have lecture at 9:30. I don't really have time!"
"Skip it, you need to get that looked at."
I stirred over the decision in my mind and got a new tray of food.

This was the worst possible ultimatum ever: miss my LAST Philosophy lecture before the exam on Thursday and get my hand taken care of, or show up to it in immense pain.
I urgently ran to some other friends in the dorm. I went to Rachel first because she seemed knowledgeable on First Aid procedures (she had taken care of me on a prior date).
Even she said I should go to UHS (University Health Services) to get it looked at. If I tried to treat it myself, it could get infected.
This is also coupled with the fact that I had no freaking clue how to treat a burn.

So, I made up my mind to skip lecture and go to UHS.

...

"Just so you know, this isn't a walk-in clinic..." the receptionist had said to me.
It's amazing that she still had the audacity to mention this valuable little tidbit while my hand was still oozing pus. I understand that my situation wasn't exactly an emergency, but Christ, did I need to be having a heart attack in order to get some medical attention?
"I'm sorry, but the nurse is with someone else right now. You can wait, if you want."
"Well, I really don't have time..." I replied.
"Well, you know, these are decisions we all have to make... it's your own health care...."
I almost lost it at that point. I walked out, took the elevator all the way down to the first floor (in tears, mind you) and called my dad. I had no idea what to do at that point.
"Well, how bad is it?" my dad asked.
"I don't know, but I look like fuckin' Freddy Krueger with this hand... I've never had a burn like this before..."
Eventually, my dad convinced me that it'd be better to go and get it taken care of, since I was already there.

The nurse, when she was finally ready, was actually really sweet.
The only horrible part was when she had to peel off the excess skin with a tweezers. It wasn't horrifically painful, but I couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like if she had kept peeling my wound, till she had covered my entire arm, and then my torso, and then my entire body...

Somewhere in the midst of all this, I also couldn't help but think, "Wow, this will make great blogging material, eh?"

...

Ah, yes, but I guess I'll just rack up the whole experience up on my list of awkward freshman moments. I have many. I may compile them on here some day, for giggles. or to recount my misery... whatever you prefer, really.


Additionally, I guess the decision was made on my roommate:
He will be moved to another dorm if a room opens up. To be honest, I'm a little scared. I don't want him to leave. We aren't BFFs or anything, and we did have a bit of a falling-through when he made some rather insensitive comments about me, but all in all, we coexist. I trust him with my stuff in the room. He trusts me. It's all good.
The whole concept of some random straggler moving in with me is kind of frightening.
It could be infinitely horrible, or infinitely wonderful too, I guess.

I feel that their reasons for kicking Alex out are a bit faulty. They think he's going to be a "bad influence" on the dorm. But I think that's a complete crock. Yes, Alex drinks a lot, but if you don't drink, his mere presence won't make you WANT to drink or to completely disregard your morals. Additionally, everyone in the dorm LOVES him. I feel bad that he's going to have to start over entirely in a new dorm. Though I'm sure his new living mates will be equally as ENAMORED with him...

His ability to make people like him is something I still cannot completely understand. But that is a separate topic entirely, and I need not divulge at this moment.


...

ANYWAYS,
other facets of college life are going well. I'm doing pretty well in my classes.
I have A's in French and Linguistics (which, frankly, I'd be suprised if I DIDN'T have A's in those classes, since they are so easy) and a B in Chemistry. I didn't do AS WELL as I had wanted on this last Chem exam, but eh, I still have time to fix the grade. I'm not sure what exactly I'm getting in Philosophy, because we've only had two assignments... The prof didn't send out any six week grades.

I am not auditioning for the School of Music in November. I realized that I simply do not have enough time to prepare a well-polished audition in time. I still may audition for next year, but I don't know quite yet.

In all honesty, I'm still so confused about even broader ideas about the future. I don't even know if I want to stay here at Madison. Yes, it's a school of great quality, but there are many things about it I don't exactly dig. First of all, the whole party-school image is a little frustrating. Secondly, Madison is not a city. Madison is a college town. Despite whatever you hear, it is most definitely a college town. I miss the feel of that true urban landscape... I miss Milwaukee. I know for many Milwaukee is a pathetic little wisp of a city, but I had grown to love it in time. It's also a "city" in the truest sense. It is not a mere college town.
I miss Brady Street and Rochambo and the Hookah bar. I miss the Lakefront. I miss the Starbucks on every corner. I even miss West Allis and Johnny V's.
I always have these brief moments of epiphinal understanding, where my future just seems so simple and clear. A few minutes ago, for example, I was just sitting at my desk listening to Acid Tongue by Jenny Lewis (whose lyrics are affixed to the title of this entry) and suddenly, everything seemed clear. I imagined myself back in Milwaukee. I imagined myself attending UWM. I imagined myself happy and free in the urban setting, not trapped inside this gigantic research institution.
In a way, I feel slightly ungrateful. I know many who would KILL to go to UW-Madison, but I am just not entirely sure yet if it is for me. It very well could be, for all I know. Just at the moment, I'm struck with this city-allure that only the warmth of Milwaukee can truly cure.

And other times I have moments where I think that remaining here in Madison wouldn't be so bad after all. In fact, it could be wonderful. I could rent out apartment next year with some good friends. I could study some more languages, because the language program here is pretty stellar.

but I waver constantly. It would help tremendously if I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to major in. but alas, this issue is so complex and constantly evolving that I cannot fully answer it yet.


I think I am finished divulging every mundane detail of my life for you.
French exam tomorrow, Philosophy on Thursday. Lovely.

Au bientot!

begin.

Hello, sir or madam.
Allow me to introduce myself:
My name is Dan, and I’m a freshman at UW-Madison. I’m a million little conundrums packed in one little boy, so I won’t even begin to divulge… well, we’ve got time. A little divulging is all right…
I’m 18 years old. I am agnostic. I am gay. I am a moralist, in the sense that I am genuinely concerned about the consequences of my actions... though it's near impossible to separate what I truly believe from what I've been brainwashed to believe. I write very often; it's not so much a hobby as it is sustenance. I tend to ramble. I write as the thoughts occur to me. I never use outlines. I am always late. I lose things often... iPods, calculators, religious beliefs, dignity. It's just a matter of misplacing them, you know.
I typically keep a journal to myself on my laptop (since coming to school, I’ve filled some 50 word documents…) However, I decided to open up a bit more. And to become a bit more refined. Sometimes my private journal is so disgustingly sad-eyed and pathetic that I don’t even want to read it. So, here is my attempt to reconcile the wild pathos of my brain with calm communication with the real world… we’ll see how it goes.

I have many, many ideas as to what I want to major in here at UW-Madison, but I’m unable to zone in on any one. Don’t even get me started on this train of thought, because I probably will never shut up. I consume vast amounts of mental energy TRYING to figure out what exactly I want to major in. I’d say about 80% of the day is spent worrying. I won't get EXTREMELY in depth on this topic right now, since this is just an introductory blog. and also because I am certain that there will be many blogs to come which address the issue with more complexity. but, to give you a vague idea, here are some things I've been considering: engineering, pre-med (biology, whatever), piano performance, one or more foreign languages. journalism. education. philosophy. Clearly, I am a mess. I am strongly leaning toward auditioning for the school of music for next semester. It seems to make the most sense. If I don't get in, it wasn't meant to be. If I do get in, awesome. If I get in and I don't like it, I can easily switch. or double major.
Other college information: a boy in my hall hung himself during the first few weeks of school. since then a pair of new guys have been moved into his room, one of which threatened the other's life. I'm not sure what to think anymore. Some people are saying our house is cursed. I feel that's a bit disrespectful.


IN MORE RECENT NEWS, for those of you who are not up to date on my Facebook statuses, my Chemistry notebook was found! I was about to begin studying for an exam yesterday, when I noticed that it was MIA. I WENT INSANE. It was really an ugly moment… lots of illogical strings of cuss words, spewed out in attempt to rest my uneasy mind. It was really frustrating, all the more so because I DO THIS ALL THE TIME.

However, I checked my e-mail today, and a TA had found my notebook!
The first thing I said was “Thank God!”
And for some reason, it actually resonated inside of me, as ludicrous as that sounds.

I’m not sure what this means. But as I was walking toward the Chemistry building in the rain, I was suddenly struck with this absurd feeling that yes, yes, yes, there is indeed someone watching over me.
This is either a testament to the fickleness of my beliefs, or to the fact that my faith had not wholly disappeared in the first place. I’m uncertain. And frankly I’m sick of worrying about it. Tomorrow I may wake up and still feel confused.
These arguments about God are beginning to tire me. I can’t stand them anymore. Mostly because both sides are so COCKSURE in their beliefs. They think all else is foolishness. An atheist thinks that believing in God is the most ludicrous thing ever. In fact, they even find agnosticism (which one normally considers neutral) to be absolutely ludicrous too. But Christians are the same way. They think that NOT believing in God is the most ludicrous thing ever (“The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’”) With this constant polarization, I am completely at a loss as to what I actually believe. I think I still am agnostic, despite this little felicitous happening.
but eh, I digress. This is quite possibly the most scatter-brained blog ever, usnure as to how I moved from introductory material, to lost chemistry notebooks, to arguments about the existence of God... but I figured I needed to start SOMEWHERE. so, glean whatever meaningful facts you can. future blogs will hopefully be more topic-oriented.

I have three exams this week. Cheers!

and a final comment, about the title:
Lento ma non troppo is a musical marking for tempo. Literally it means "slowly, but not too much." It is also affixed to one of my favorite pieces by one of my favorite composers: Chopin's Etude op. 10 no. 3 in E major. If you don't know me very well, I am a stressed out mess 99% of the time. I guess, in some roundabout way, this little Italian phrase offers some kind of comfort or inner-peace for me. It's also slightly ironic, because it is the exact opposite of how I actually live my life. I never move slowly, ever. And perhaps that just adds to the beauty of it