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More quizzes. Don't shoot me! A real entry is ... below the quiz crap.
( Me, me, oh please analyze ME! )
You're sitting on a bus. A girl gets on. She's carrying several things, one of which is a sandwich wrapped in Saran Wrap. She's juggling her ID and trying to unwrap the sandwich at the same time. She sits down, still struggling with the wrap, and after a moment you realize that, for whatever reason, she isn't tearing into the Saran Wrap. She's trying to unfold it from the sandwich without ripping it at all. You watch her for a few minutes. She gently tugs at the edges, trying to figure out which parts are wrapped under which other parts. Soon enough she manages to open the Saran Wrap enough that she can get to the sandwich. To your utter surprise, at this point she ignores the sandwich completely and focuses on straightening out the remaining edges of the Saran Wrap, unfolding the folded bits and smoothing out the wrinkled bits. No sooner has she flattened the plastic to a rectangle than she refolds it around her sandwich again, this time so she can hold it without getting her hands greasy, ignores the folds of the Saran Wrap, eats the sandwich, and crinkles the Saran Wrap up in her hand, completely ignoring the fact that she just spent ten minutes trying to make it smooth.
Now, what crosses your mind?
Because what crossed MY mind, even as I was trying to smooth out the stupid piece of Saran Wrap, was that it was a waste of my time. I could have just ripped into the damn thing. Except that I couldn't just rip into the damn thing. Couldn't make myself. So I sat there, hungry, flattening this stupid piece of plastic, and thinking to myself, "Everyone on this bus must think I'm neurotic."
In other news, my bike got stolen Tuesday. So I've been a bit of an emotional wreck again this week. I really liked that bike, so I'm sort of grieving for it. That, and it now takes me a full hour to get from my house to campus, despite the fact that campus is only about 8 miles away. Grrr.
In other other news, today is the 1 year anniversary of the day I broke up with Jamie. I bought a sweatshirt.
I think those two sentences might not be related to one another.
Then again, you never know.
I've decided that since my science classes are MWF and my Gen Ed (Body Art of Oceania, or the Pacific) is TT, Tuesdays and Thursdays are just going to become my all-around Art Days. I'll take my sketch pad (I bought a sketch pad before finals) up to campus TT, and I'll try to be more of what Pirsig calls a "romantic" ("what's on the surface, is it pretty" type) on those days. On MWF I will be what Pirsig calls a "classic" (analytical scientist type) and we'll see if, by the end of the quarter, the two types haven't completely melted into one another.
I really hope they do. I'd like to inject some art into my happy little science world. And I'd really like to inject some science into Santa Cruz's art world, because it seems to me a lot of the art hippies don't understand science, and therefore dislike it. My Gen Ed professor is one example. I may end up doing my research paper for that class on something scientific, to show her that science isn't all bad, and art isn't all good. Because neither world is pure anything. They're just different.
I really like spring. I just wish my bike was here to like it with me.
Remind me to go swimming.
( Me, me, oh please analyze ME! )
You're sitting on a bus. A girl gets on. She's carrying several things, one of which is a sandwich wrapped in Saran Wrap. She's juggling her ID and trying to unwrap the sandwich at the same time. She sits down, still struggling with the wrap, and after a moment you realize that, for whatever reason, she isn't tearing into the Saran Wrap. She's trying to unfold it from the sandwich without ripping it at all. You watch her for a few minutes. She gently tugs at the edges, trying to figure out which parts are wrapped under which other parts. Soon enough she manages to open the Saran Wrap enough that she can get to the sandwich. To your utter surprise, at this point she ignores the sandwich completely and focuses on straightening out the remaining edges of the Saran Wrap, unfolding the folded bits and smoothing out the wrinkled bits. No sooner has she flattened the plastic to a rectangle than she refolds it around her sandwich again, this time so she can hold it without getting her hands greasy, ignores the folds of the Saran Wrap, eats the sandwich, and crinkles the Saran Wrap up in her hand, completely ignoring the fact that she just spent ten minutes trying to make it smooth.
Now, what crosses your mind?
Because what crossed MY mind, even as I was trying to smooth out the stupid piece of Saran Wrap, was that it was a waste of my time. I could have just ripped into the damn thing. Except that I couldn't just rip into the damn thing. Couldn't make myself. So I sat there, hungry, flattening this stupid piece of plastic, and thinking to myself, "Everyone on this bus must think I'm neurotic."
In other news, my bike got stolen Tuesday. So I've been a bit of an emotional wreck again this week. I really liked that bike, so I'm sort of grieving for it. That, and it now takes me a full hour to get from my house to campus, despite the fact that campus is only about 8 miles away. Grrr.
In other other news, today is the 1 year anniversary of the day I broke up with Jamie. I bought a sweatshirt.
I think those two sentences might not be related to one another.
Then again, you never know.
I've decided that since my science classes are MWF and my Gen Ed (Body Art of Oceania, or the Pacific) is TT, Tuesdays and Thursdays are just going to become my all-around Art Days. I'll take my sketch pad (I bought a sketch pad before finals) up to campus TT, and I'll try to be more of what Pirsig calls a "romantic" ("what's on the surface, is it pretty" type) on those days. On MWF I will be what Pirsig calls a "classic" (analytical scientist type) and we'll see if, by the end of the quarter, the two types haven't completely melted into one another.
I really hope they do. I'd like to inject some art into my happy little science world. And I'd really like to inject some science into Santa Cruz's art world, because it seems to me a lot of the art hippies don't understand science, and therefore dislike it. My Gen Ed professor is one example. I may end up doing my research paper for that class on something scientific, to show her that science isn't all bad, and art isn't all good. Because neither world is pure anything. They're just different.
I really like spring. I just wish my bike was here to like it with me.
Remind me to go swimming.
