Driving

I'm hoping to have my driver's license by the beginning of August, so recently I've been getting behind the wheel a bit more. The difficulties that I've been having are almost all small things that I never would have anticipated - stopping, for instance. The first time I stopped I stomped the brake so hard it was whiplash-inducing. I have graduated to slowing for traffic lights with success, and am presently struggling with lane changes. (I'm CONVINCED that I'm missing something. I don't care if I've mirror-checked and shoulder-checked! Someone is going to run into me!) I guess this is a rite of passage into adulthood? Learning to tell between the gas and the brake?

At some point I'm also going to have to buckle down and actually get my taxes done, another delightful part of entering the age of majority. Last Sunday afternoon I forgot I was supposed to work and nobody was responsible for my schedule or my subsequent apology but me. It's a little uncomfortable to be accountable for these larger things; to keep track of my finances, to make sure I know where to be and when and how I'm getting there, to be the person I'm accountable to.

If I think about it too much, I get intimidated considering how much more independent I'll be next year. I'll have to balance a budget, get homework in on time, work and save, and make sure I do random things like go to the dentist. I'll have to make my own grocery list and pay for my own food - what I don't eat in the cafeteria, where I'll have to watch the balance on my student card. I'll have to make sure my credit card is paid off. It's startling how much I didn't realize I had to be aware of, to be independent. It makes me uncertain that I want to be, sometimes.

In essence, a lot of the time I find myself saying, "I guess I'm driving?" instead of, "I want to drive!"

Constantine I

I got my first laptop around Christmas of 2007. It would not be an exaggeration to say I have it with me in almost every single picture. It (he, Fitzwilliam I) was a white iBook G4 that I received secondhand from my uncle, and the feeling of having a laptop for the first time was similar to what I imagine getting your first car must feel like. Since February of 2007 I'd been spending a lot of time instant messaging various online friends, and eventually got to the point where I was dissatisfied with having only an hour of time on the computer per day (our family rule at the time). I worked out a deal with my mom, and every night I'd do the supper dishes and make breakfast for the next morning, and often spend the rest of the evening on the computer. My internet acquaintances have, I'm sure, very clear memories of the times I had to beg and plead to use the computer and be forever negotiating with my siblings for fifteen more minutes and the like. It was a huge relief to finally be able to do my own thing where I wanted and when I wanted. To this day, NOBODY but me uses my computer. (Well, okay, with a very few exceptions.) It was almost literally my best friend.

I enjoyed Fitzwilliam I until April of 2008, when water got splashed on his keyboard and he spluttered and died over the course of a (very unpleasant) few days. I cried. A lot. My uncle tried valiantly to fix him, but water is to electronics as Kryptonite is to Superman, and Fitzwilliam I was relegated to the back of my closet, where he still resides. I spent a month reliving the begging-and-pleading-for-15-more-minutes days.

In May of 2008, my mom (fankoo mommy) bought me another laptop, also a secondhand iBook G4, who was christened Fitzwilliam II and kept far away from any spillable liquid. Perhaps due to how much more careful I was, Fitzwilliam II lasted all the way until April of 2010, a respectable two years for an already secondhand laptop. When his screen began dying with increasing frequency, it was agreed that money spent fixing him was not money spent well, and on May 7, 2010, Constantine (Connie for short, after Robin McKinley's vampire) arrived in the mail.
Connie has a webcam.

He is a white MacBook, widescreen, brand spanking new, and already sporting several stylish Fringe-themed desktops. I have reveled in his ability to play flawless video (by viewing, over and over, the preview for the Fringe finale) and played with the iPhoto face recognition technology, and watched the strange ways PhotoBooth can deform my pictures, and moved all my music into iTunes. Connie also comes with a 1-year warranty, which I may end up extending.

I am very happy. Long live Connie. (Vampires are immortal, you know.)

Countdowns

On April 3rd, I realized that it was exactly 3 months until our missions team to Mexico (which I am on) leaves on July 3rd. Since then, I have been fervently wishing it were the end of June already: the beginning of my (fun!) summer, and almost the end of my working year. In the spirit of enjoying life how it is...but also looking forward to things coming:

22 days until I take the SAT on May 1st (and move one step closer to acceptance into university).

75 days until I leave for Mexico on July 3rd (returning home on the 11th).

122 days until I see potr/Jamie on August 9th!

126 days until my birthday on August 13th (it's a Friday again this year. It was a Friday the year I turned 13, too).

151 days until September 7th, the day I move into residence at Ambrose.

(And 6 days until the next episode of Fringe, White Tulip. Simple pleasures.)

Excuses, excuses...

My blogging constancy lately has been about the same as my journaling constancy, which makes sense, since they come to the same thing--one more private and one less so.

I got a gorgeous journal for my birthday in August. It looks like a ship's log and is made of leather and thick, parchment-y paper, and it sat in my room for months unused because I couldn't make up my mind about what epic purpose suited this wonderful thing. Eventually I decided that I was being silly and started using it as a journal, which I solemnly promised myself I would not neglect.

Ha ha.

What you have to understand about this (and what is part of my feeble defence) is that I am supremely bad at journaling. I'd like to think I'm good at it, since yeesh, if I can't write about my own life, what CAN I write about? But my entries tend to descend into tedium like, "Today I woke up and did not want to get out of bed. But I did. Then I went to work. Zia told me she hated Piglet. My feet have been hurting after work lately. Anyway, it was a long day and" then I'm distracted by something else. I did manage to be semi-consistent for about a month, and then I can cite to you a host of excuses about ceasing to be consistent, but the point is, I've been horrible at any degree of regularity since about October. I meant to memorize quizzing verses. I meant to play the piano every day. I meant to learn some degree of Spanish for the missions trip in July.

I meant to...wait for it...blog! Consistently!

The reality is that until I'm done working shifts at two jobs, shifts that are different every week, and juggling that with church involvement and studying for the SAT in May (which I should be doing as I am typing this) and getting the last bits of my university application ready to go (if you're curious, that's going well and I have residence acceptance. Also the director of the English Lit program emailed me and we used Elvish. I feel at home already) I won't be regular or consistent at anything except that necessary stuff.

It's not too much longer; we're almost into April (oops. Header.) and come next year I'm pretty sure I'll HAVE to blog or I'll be bombarded with questions about how university is going.

All that to say, please forgive me. I'll be here. If you're really curious about how I'm doing, fire me off an email or message me on facebook. But I can promise nothing, blog-wise, of a terribly excellent degree of regularity.

Tolerance in Action

A couple days ago a blog I follow, FringeTelevision, posted some photos of Anna Torv (who plays Olivia Dunham in Fringe) from Esquire's "Women We Love" feature that FringeTelevision described as 'racy' and my mom described as 'salacious'. (I had to look it up too. My mommy is smart.) There were mixed comments on the post, some disappointed that Anna had allowed herself to be portrayed that way, some supportive. I was the eighth commenter, and I said:

It seems ridiculously incongruous to see these in conjuction with the Olivia we know from Fringe.

It's not that I'm surprised, or that I'm really disappointed in Anna Torv, but I object to the way she's sexualized like this. Is this really the only thing we look for in 'women we love'? What about intelligence or confidence or humor? Are near-nude photos the only thing that will make us sit up and pay attention? I think not.

Given what a few of the previous commenters had said, I surmised that I was not without support in my opinion. Another reader said she'd been "endorsing [Anna Torv/Olivia Dunham] as a role model to my teenage girls. Now she is just another Hollywood nobody who hasn't the good sense to retain part of herself, for her and her husband."

However, immediately after my comment, two others added their opinions:

I'd love to see the reaction you conservative nutjobs would have had if you saw Anna on "Mistresses" where she shared a steamy kiss with... a woman! (gasp!) Wake up, people. It's 2010; teenagers on myspace post more suggestive photos than the ones of Anna in Esquire. Just because she portrays a buttoned-down FBI agent, doesn't mean she is one. These pictures are tastefully done, playful, and show Anna for the stunning beauty she truly is. I will appreciate the photos for all you uptight people that can't.

and

You people live in a highly disturbed state of mind.Anna is an actress not some doll that you can dress up and pretend to be something you like.And when someone touches your doll, you start to feel very offended about it.Stop filming your life, yes the show is great, but Anna is a living person and she can do whatever she wants without asking some old fashioned idiots like you for approval.

Fun stuff. Now I'm a 'conservative nutjob', I'm 'uptight', I 'live in a highly disturbed state of mind', and I'm an 'old fashioned idiot'. Surmising that from their opinions, these individuals supported the popular definition of 'freedom of expression', I came to the not unreasonable conclusion that they probably also bought into another popular 'value'...

Boy. Apologies for expressing my opinion. Thanks for your thoughtful tolerance of my views! :D

Emphasis added.

Yay tolerance?

UPDATE: I've now also been accused of ignorance regarding what goes on in magazines. Aren't they just so polite?