Late Night Ramble

It's eleven at night where I'm at, and I don't really have much to talk about, but I told myself that I would try to update more regularly. So, I apologize in advance if I ramble or this post makes little to no sense.. 

Have you ever had a day that felt like it took ages to end? That's been today for me. It's a Wednesday, and it absolutely felt like a Wednesday. I told myself last night that I would be productive today, that I would get everything on my immediate to-do-list done. I started by going to bed early and making myself get out of bad long before I really needed to. 

I have to admit, I did get everything on my to-do list done, but that was the problem. I had a whole bunch of stuff to do, some of which I had been putting off for awhile, and it got done in a fraction of the time it should have. Both my roommate and I experienced this. 

Time was going by so slowly that, by noon, we had almost everything done. So, we took an hour and went out for lunch and Starbucks. Then I wasted an hour waiting for work and ended up having to waste time at work because I finished everything on my list there before my clock-out time (it didn't help that one of the things I had to do couldn't be done until the very end of my shift...so I had to literally waste and hour and a half between finishing everything else and that thing). 

Then, after work and classes, and lunch, and all that good stuff...I realized that I had nothing else to do. So my roommate and I cleaned our dorm room. And I'm talking about deep cleaned. The only thing we didn't do is vacuum and that's because I have to get a new belt for the faulty contraption. 

So, yeah, that's how my day's been; super productive, but still insanely long. Now it's a bit past eleven and I've completely ran out of things to do. Any normal person would think, "Bed, sleep sounds nice," but I swear I'm nocturnal. By the time it hits ten at night I'm wide awake. Can't sleep. Sometimes I have to write until I'm mentally exhausted in order to sleep, because -no shocker here, most likely -my brain won't shut off at night. It seems to think the dark hours are the perfect time to think about every little thing. Which is kind of why I'm writing to you now instead of laying in bed, staring up at the boring ceiling of my dorm room. This post may have no real point to it, but it keeps me occupied. 

Anywho, this day's been long and I hope tomorrow goes by quicker. I just want the weekend. Got something fun planned. Going to go shopping with a couple friends, and to get some iHop. Really looking forward to that. I need it too. All three of us need it. Some girl time. Sometime to push aside the worries of school, work, love, and life. Sometime to just be us and buy ourselves something (because we're awesome and we deserve it). That's what I keep reminding myself is ahead of me. That's what's getting me through this week. 

Before I go, let me leave you with my favorite quite of the day. My College Algebra professor said this today in class. "That's why you go to college, kids. To learn that zero doesn't equal thirty-six." On a side note, it is slightly humorous that he called us kids, because he's only like two/three/four years older than me.

Jingbang

Jingbang (n.) \ˈjiŋ¦baŋ\:\

 A slang word meaning a company of a crowd.

 Such as in, "The whole Jingbang is here." 

Jingbang is a word that my English major friends and I have recently discovered. Our professor informed us of its existence and we've taken to calling ourselves the English Jingbang (or The Jingbang). It has easily found its way into our vocabulary. Of all the words we are exposed to daily, none have found a place in our everyday talk as easily as jingbang has. At least, none have found their ways so easily in all of our vocabularies. 

Why is this? 

How is it that such a silly word could be adopted so quickly by us while words like esoteric and abderian are known but not used, not adopted?  (In case you don't know, esoteric means, "something that is understood -or known by -a small number of people." Abderian means, "foolish or prone to incessant laughter.") 

Perhaps it is because the word jingbang is so silly that we became fond of it so quickly. It sounds hippy, cool...it's obvious that it's slang. It's a fun word to say. A unique word. A word that -somehow -relates to our personalities. Somehow the word is both fun and scholarly. It's not the most attractive word, but it's a beautiful one.

If you're not in love with the English language, or language in general, (Or if you don't have some sort of wonder and respect for it) you may think me crazy. But, I find Jingbang to be a beautiful word and it's words like it that constantly leave me in awe. Leave me wondering about the mystery of how such words were created. 

I love words; from all languages. So, when I find a new one I tend to look into it. It's definition and origin are the first things I want to know about new words. Naturally, when I heard of Jingbang, I did some research. Sadly, I found no known origin. By the way it sounds, I can only guess at what its origin is.

Such a simple word with a veiled past. I welcome it into my vocabulary.

Weeding out the Pessimism

"Without hard work, nothing grows but weeds." 

~Gordon B. Hinkley 

Last week didn't leave me in an optimistic mindset to tackle this week with. It seemed like I kept messing up all last week. And the bad part was that I knew how to do everything I was messing up on. I just, for some reason, couldn't get anything done right. It was a bad week. That's for sure. But it wasn't the end of the world.

When I woke up this morning, I had to force myself out of bed. No surprise there. It's a Monday and I had been up late the night before (partially because of homework; partially because of an annoying main character that refuses to let me figure out the critical point in her life and has a habit of only talking to me when I'm trying to sleep).  Needless to say, I threw on the first clothes my hands landed on in my dresser this morning, and dragged myself to work. I made it through work, although languidly. I felt like a zombie, sitting at the cash register and watching as my fellow students munched on their eggs and hashbrowns. I couldn't have been more relieved when nine o'clock rolled around and I was able to clock out.

A few hours later, I was trying to waist some time before having to go back into work for my second shift of the day. I wasn't feeling all that well about myself. I was so sure I would find some way to screw up my last shift of the day. My self-confidence was low. My expectations were low. My over all mood was low. Then I looked in the mirror...

...and I noticed that the outfit I had randomly chosen that morning was actually pretty decent...

...and I noticed that my curly red locks were actually tame...

..and I noticed that I felt a bit better.

That's when I decided. 

"Okay," I said to myself. "Time for a little confidence boost."

With a couple tweaks to my out fit and hair, and an hour of jamming out to three of my favorite bands, I was suddenly ready to face work again. In fact, I was excited for it. My energy had shot through the roof as Toby Mac's Steal My Show, played through my mind. Still, I wasn't completely optimistic. I'm ever hardly completely in a good mood. I know that sounds sad, but I can't help but see the bad that accompanies the good. It's like a curse. I see it all the time. No mater what I do, I always have to look at the pros and cons. I always have to examine both side.

When I got to work though...man, nothing could have prepared me for what happened today. It's like Someone, somewhere, knew exactly what I needed that shift to be. I walked into my boss's office, meaning to ask what I needed to do that day, and was greeted by him and my other boss laughing. The grins they wore were so wide that they Put the Cheshire Cat's to shame. 

"That song's still playing," the boss I had gone to talk to said. 

"I know! How long do you think it'll take them to notice?" my other boss said. 

Those two got into their head that instead of an act of kindness they'd do an act of evilness for the day. I'm glad they did though, for it provided quite an amusing scene. They had set the kitchen stereo system to play the same annoying pop-ish song over and over again. It had been on repeat all day, from what they told me, and it led to some friendly joking. 

Then, awhile later, I was in the back of the cafeteria (That's where I work) gathering a bunch of plates and cups for a catering event that's coming up. On the list of supplies I needed to gather for the event, was 100 of these tiny, clear plastic things. I have no idea what they're called. I couldn't pronounce the name of them that was on my list and had to ask where they were. I think, for the sake of this post I'll call them the bowl-cups...because they were sort of like the love child of a cup and a bowl. 

Anyway, I digress. The bowl-cups that I needed were on the top shelf of a rather high shelving unit. And I'm a fairly short girl. There was no way I could reach them. For a moment I considered climbing the shelf to get them, but I didn't really want to fall...or drop the box on my head. So, I turned to my boss -who was still back there from showing me where the weird things were located -and asked him if he knew where a ladder was:

"There's a ladder over there. But there's also a step-stool...somewhere."

"I'll just go find the step-stool (I'm afraid of ladders, okay? I'm weird like that.)."

"Or you could just climb and get them."

"But I don't want to drop the box on my head."

"But I want to see you drop the box on your head."

That sounds like a mean remark, but it was honestly spoken in good humor and he and I laughed about it for a bit. 

The point is, the entire time I spent at work this afternoon was nothing but great. I didn't screw up once, I felt confident the whole time, and it got me to thinking. That happens a lot. 

I'll be having a horrible day or be feeling down, then I'll go to work and -after some time there -everything's better. I asked myself, why that was. The answer's so obvious though. To me, it was, anyways...

...Whenever I'm stressed out, I have the urge to clean..

...Whenever I'm feeling down, I have the urge to clean...

...Whenever someone really ticks me off, I have the urge to clean...

...Cleaning...working...is coping for me. 

When I work, I don't worry. My brain blocks out all other problems, locking them away in a closet and declaring them dead. And, I throw all my emotions from those problems into cleaning and organizing. And, in the end, I'm left feeling content. After a good cleaning or work session, I feel pride. I can look around and see that I accomplished something. And that's a great feeling. Especially after a week where everything went wrong. 

I have three main outlets in life. Three main ways that allow me to step away from the world and think; that allow me to weed my mind until only roses and morning glories are left. Those three ways are:

1. Walks 

2. Cleaning/working

3. Writing 

All three of those are normally accompanied by music of some sort. Take this moment, for instance. It's eleven at night. I should be sleeping because I have another work shift in the morning, but my mind is busy. So I'm writing. I'm blogging and listening to music. And I can almost guarantee you that when I'm done here, my mind will feel like a weight has been lifted from it and I'll be able to sleep. I already feel more relaxed than when I started writing this post.  

This post may not be turning out the way I thought it would. It may not be deep and profound, but -you know -that's okay. What maters is that it's written. 

I opened this post with a saying by Gordon B. Hinkley that says, "Without hard work, nothing grows but weeds." That statement was true for me today. It's been true in the past and I'm sure it'll be true in the future. When you work hard, you get good results. I got optimism out of it. I got confidence and laughter. Those weeds that Hinkley's talking about...don't let them overgrow the lawn of your life. Don't let them strangle the optimism out of you. I guess, what I'm saying, is find an outlet. We all need outlets. We all need ways to cope. Ways to escape and think. I've found some that work for me and every time I use them I'm left to marvel at all the good they do for me. 

I don't know who you are. I don't know your stories or what plagues your life. But I do know the help a good outlet can be. Notice I said GOOD. Find a positive outlet to let out your stress and, every time you rise above the darker emotions, rejoice. 

Removing the Mask

Someone, somewhere, once said that it's the little things in life that mater the most. That when we're down for the count, and the whole world's been raining on our parade, it's the little things that have the power to put a smile on our face. I wish I could tell you who that person was, but I can't. I don't know, and I'm not going to pretend to. Whoever that Aristotle was that first spoke those words is unknown to me, but I do know that he -or she -was a wise person. 

I'm as human as the next person. I have a heart, a soul, and a mind. I smile and cry. I get excited and depressed. I'm confident and self-conscious. I have to make hard choices and live with the consequences. That's just the way life is for us humans. We go through things. we experience things. And, we react to them. Often times, we pretend to be people we're not, so that others don't know how broken we truly are.

We like to think that we're supposed to have it all together. We like to think that we're supposed to have it all figured out.  But, part of the human experience is figuring it out. It's experiencing and learning. It's choosing. And sometimes we need help. Though most of us don't like asking for aid; we see doing so as a weakness. Yet, sometimes all you need to solve life's puzzles is a friendly ear. 

I'm one of those people that consider asking for help to be a last resort. I don't ask for it unless absolutely necessary. I figure it's my life and I'll be the one to handle what happens in it. But, you know what, I don't know everything. I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. I get caught in society's snares. Sometimes it even feels like all I do is make mistakes.

We can't let mistakes hold us back though. And we can't hide behind masks. Those oh so beautifully decorated masks that we make for ourselves in order to keep our true selves safe from the judgmental eyes of the world. The world is judgmental, that's something I believe every human can agree on. We may bicker over religion and rites, but we can't deny that humankind likes to judge each other. And, knowing this, we fear being found out. We fear allowing ourselves to open up to the world. So we carve our masks and hide behind them. 

In the late 1800's a poet named, Paul Laurence Dunbar wrote a poem titled We Wear the Mask. Said poem captures the human need to wear a mask perfectly. Granted, Dunbar wrote it -according to critics and professors -about slavery, but I believe it speaks for all mankind. After all, we're all slaves in a sense. All slaves to the need to show ourselves to society as she deems fit. All slaves to the fear of being ourselves (At one time or another we all had to chose weather we'd conform or stand out). 

The first time I read Dunbar's We Wear the Mask was my sophomore year of college. I had found it intriguing then and actually spoke about it in class (to the great shock of my professor). After the recent events that have taken place in my life, it has crept it's way back into my mind. I've been reciting it to myself for awhile now, and I feel the need to share it with you: 

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, -
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, 
And mouth with myiad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while 
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath out feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask! 

There are very few people that I completely remove my mask for. Most people I come in contact with only know bits and pieces of me. Only one of my friends knows every little thing about me. After making a particular hard decision, I called this friend to talk. I removed my mask and told her everything that was troubling me, and there's been a lot lately. 

Like the true friend she is, my friend listened to me and offered advice. A couple nights later I sent her a text, asking her why I felt the way I  did concerning the situations I had told her about. Her response was simple, but it was the best one she could have gave. She told me, and I quote, "Because you're human." 

She wasn't the only one that's given me advice lately. I've been told a few things that will stay with me forever. But what she said got me thinking and I realized that somewhere over the last year (not even a year, the last six months) I had decided to replace the mask on my face that I had removed. I had decided to play it cool and be a people pleaser. And I wasn't happy with that. I wasn't content playing a role that wasn't mine to play. And when I read her words, I thought....

She's right. I am human. And this is my human experience, and I'm going to experience it the way I want to. The way that I feel is right. Thanks to her, and some others, I was able to make a difficult choice and feel content with it. 

As soon as my Christmas break is over, I'll be retieing (Yeah, I don't how to spell that word) on the Never Take It Off bracelet I bought. Not because I need to retie on the vow that I made when I first put the bracelet on, but because it'll serve as a reminder. Every time I feel down, feel like I can do something, feel like life's against me, and every time I start questioning myself and the choices I've made, I'll be able to look down at my right wrist, see that dragonfly bead, and remember my vow. 

You may be wondering what my vow is, but I can't tell you. That's sort of the whole point of the bracelet/vow. It's a personal vow. Know one needs to know what it is except for me (though I've given you enough clues as to what it is). With that vow, though, and some help from my friend, I'm going to make 2014 a great year. I'm going to say no to the mask and allow the little things in life to lift me up when I'm down. I'm done pretending. I was done along time ago, but this is me reclaiming myself. This is me standing up, taking my vow, and facing the world head on. 

Here's to a great 2014, everyone. Let's make it the best. Together. No more masks. No more pretending. Let's rise up and celebrate. Let's be the outcasts. We are empowered.

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NOTE: Never Take It Off is an online shop that's about making personal vows and keeping them. To read more about it, check out their site http://nevertakeitoff.bigcartel.com/

The Monster Inside Us

" We stopped checking for monsters under our beds

when we realized they were inside us."

 ~The Joker 

 In the world we live in, it isn't an uncommon thing to be obsessed with monsters. Everyone has their Zombie plan, their  knowledge on how to kill the children of the night, and -really -who doesn't love a good monster movie? Vampires, Zombies, Witches, Warlocks, ghouls, Wendigos, Banshees...what ever your brand of monster, there is some book or movie that has been made to cater to your obsession. The world loves monsters. It always has. But, the question is, why? Why is it that we love what's meant to frighten us?

I've been interested in monsters since I was a little girl. Of course, until I hit high school the only monsters I liked were aliens. Then I heard about a movie that was supposed to be taking over the theaters...that movie was Twilight. Before you Twilight haters click the 'X' read on for a bit. I'm not one of the movie's hardcore fans, I promise. When I first heard of Twilight I was curious and asked a friend about it...she introduced me to the books and I flew through the first three in two days, then proceeded to wait-quite impatiently -for the forth. I loved the books...until the movies came out. I'll admit I watched the movies, I actually liked the first one, but lost interest in them.

Not long after discovering Twilight, I started researching Vampires. What I found ignited a spark within me. I instantly became hooked. I set aside Twilight and began watching other monster movies. They weren't hardcore movies. Not much blood and not at all what I would consider scary. I wasn't yet seventeen though, so my parents still had full control over what I viewed. The two movies I watched almost all the time were Van Hellsing and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I still love those movies.

After I got into vampires and realized there were thousands of other monsters out there to learn about, my high school English teacher had us read Mary Shelly's Frankenstein. By that point, I was really into the monster world. I did my research, read stories about them, and watched movies. I was irritated when I found out that Hollywood didn't accurately portray Frankenstein and that the world had bought into the false representation they had been given.

My love for monsters has always kind of set me apart from my family. I grew up in a good Christian home, was taught that angels, demons, and witches exist, but Halloween was never a looked forward to tradition. There were always those Fall Festivals at church to attend, and we loved those, but trick-or-treating wasn't done. Before you start thinking I had super strict puritan-like parents, I didn't. Okay? They brought me up right and they did take me trick-or-treating once. I think I was about eight when my siblings and I were allowed to try trick-or-treating...and I hated it. I honestly didn't understand why anyone would want to dress up in costumes and go door-to-door taking candy from strangers. It wasn't something I was into. I've only been trick-or-treating once since then, but I still do enjoy the monsters that run the streets the night of October 31st.

For the longest time, I had no idea what it was about monsters that intrigued me. I just knew I was fascinated with them. Sometime during high school, though, is when I figured out just what it was that drew me to them. I was sitting in my Cults and Religions class (I went to a Lutheran high school and yes, this was a required class) learning about demon possession. Most of what was taught wasn't new to me, but the movie that was shown to our class was.

The Exorcism of Emily Rose was played in class for four days. During those four days I got absolutely no useful sleep. I slept maybe an hour a night and would normally end up sitting on the couch in the living room, scared of the shadows around me. Those of you that have seen that movie may or may not find it frightening. It wasn't really the movie that scared me. It was one specific scene that shook me to the core and left me with nightmares for months. I'd give you a YouTube clip of it, but frankly I never want to see any part of that movie again so I'm not going to go searching for what I consider to be the worst scene in it.

The scene was right before Emily get's possessed. She's aware that something's after her and leaves her dorm. She runs across campus, through the streets, and to a church. Flinging the doors open, she sprints down the aisle of the church, heading straight for the cross seated on the alter...and the demon possess her. Right there,in the church, the demon gets full control over her. In the church. A CHURCH! The idea that such a creature could take over a person on holy ground scared the living daylights out of me. That something so evil could stand in the presence of God and have power frighten me to no end. It also didn't help with my fears any when my teacher informed the class that Emily's story was real and showed us articles about the real Emily Rose (She's actually German and I know I'd butcher her first name if I tried to spell it, but you can Google it if you're really curious).

After that freaky encounter with that movie that shall never ever, ever, ever, ever be in my possession, is when I began wondering why I liked monsters. Why, even though that movie terrified me, I still wanted to know more.

Just yesterday I read an article on DeaviantArt.com that spoke of the answer I discovered (http://techgnotic.deviantart.com/journal/The-Monster-in-The-Mirror-407706062?utm_source=elnino&utm_medium=messagecenter&utm_campaign=102813_NET_MonsterInTheMirror&utm_term=title). Said article spoke of how we -humans -love monsters because they are the embodiment of what we fear. They symbolize the fears of our times. And even though they scare us, we relate to them. They are our way of explaining our fears.

The Joker (From Batman) had it right when he said that, "We stopped checking for monsters under our beds when we realized they were inside us." Those monsters we fear; they aren't the blood sucking vampires on TV, or the boogy man hiding under our beds and in our closest, they're us. They're our society. They're the world we live in.

That article I gave you the link for talks about how each generation seems to have their favorite monster and how that monster shows the fears and life at that generation's time. At the end of the article, it posses an interesting question. The monsters that overrun our minds now days are the Zombies....so what are we scared of? What fear, what aspect of life, are we portraying with our love for zombies?

I honestly don't know. And I don't think we'll know. It'll be future generations that will look back and say, "Oh, the Zombie's came from this historical event." Whatever the reason though -and I'm sure if we created a list of the possible reasons it could take a full notebook -there is obviously more to the monsters that meet the eye.

Our love of monsters isn't physical. We like their supernatural abilities, we enjoy the stories they're in, but really the reason we like monsters is all psychological. It's because of something within us. Something that relates to that monster's symbolism. For me, I can watch any kind of monster movie and not be freaked out except for two.

Ghosts movies, I can handle in moderation. Your basic ghost movie won't scare me, but when you get into child ghosts that want to kill people it's time for me to leave the room.

Demon movies...now those are what freak me out. And yes, I know why. I've figured it out. What fear it is that makes them unbearable for me to watch. I can enjoy the other monsters simply because I understand their symbolism but are not directly effected by it. Demons...possession...that's one thing that hits home. I fear the loss of complete control. I fear the thought of being in Emily Rose's situation; of being stuck in a place in life where nothing, not even my faith, can save me.

Of course, I believe that no mater what God is there. That He'd save me from such a circumstance. But that doesn't prevent the idea from completely freaking me out.

I'm reminded of a scene from Cassandra Clare's City of Glass (SPOILER ALERT: FOR THOSE READING THE SERIES), where the character Simon is trapped in prison. At that point in the story, he's been recently turned into a vampire. As a human, he was from a Jewish family. He believed in God and participated in all the stuff his religion required him to...and guess what it is that the Shadowhunters use to trap him in the prison? They carve the symbols of his religion into the bars. It's the Star of David that keeps him there (END OF SPOILER). I cried when I read that scene, simply because I couldn't imagine being in his position. Being stuck in such a state and trapped by your own beliefs. It would feel awful, wanting to believe but being rejected by those beliefs.

Now, I've said a lot in this post, and some of you will probably question my mental state or my spiritual state after reading this, but I assure you I'm find. Both mentally and spiritually. The point of this post was to discus monsters as being symbols. As being representations of our fears. I've spoken on the mater before, and many people disagree with my opinions, and that's okay. Feel free to disagree, but don't be close minded.

Monsters are more than scary shadows that go bump in the night. They're the shadows the lurk in our minds, tearing us apart at our weakest and darkest moments. They are symbols of psychological themes. The following song by the band Skillet, really shows this point. I'm going to leave you with this song and I encourage you to go ahead and take a few minutes to listen to it. Listen to the lyrics, don't just watch the video.

Poorly Greet Each Other, We Do.

Have you ever noticed how people have a strange way of greeting each other? If you haven't, you may want to start paying closer attention to what people say to you. I was sitting at work the other day, bored and watching the cashier when something caught my attention. My job, when cashiering, is to scan ID cards and be polite to the customers (a task that is sometimes easier said than done), so -naturally -a lot of people greet me. When they hand me the card, the first hing out of their mouths is normally some sort of greeting.

While I was sitting there, scanning cards, I noticed something about the way I was being greeted. Maybe it's just my generation, or maybe it's a lack of education (Which I doubt), but my generation seems to have forgotten that there is a difference between saying, "Hi," and saying, "How's it going?" 

I've compiled a list of the most common ways I've seen my fellow students greet each other (at my on-campus job, in class, and around campus). Here's the ones that seem to be exceedingly popular around the university I go to:

1) "Hi"

2) "Hello"

3) "What's up?"

4) " 'Sup?"

5) "How's it going?"

6) "How are you?"

7) "Hey."

8) "Hey!" 

Now, these greetings should look familiar to you. I'm sure that you've heard all of them at least once, but have you ever actually thought about what they mean? Some of them aren't even really greetings. They are, but they aren't. They're greetings in the sense that they can start a conversation and acknowledge the existence of the person they're being said to, but they aren't in the sense that they don't actually mean the same thing as, "Hello". For the sake of understanding my point, let's take a few moments to actually break down theses greetings.

1) "Hi": "Hi," is the little brother of "Hello". It means the exact same thing. It's merely a way of properly greeting someone. It's hard to misinterpret the meaning behind it, unless the tone it is spoken in is one of the darker emotions (i.e. anger, spite, depression...ect...). It's simple. It's straight forward. It doesn't need ask for anything more than an acknowledgement of it being spoken...which can be given in the form of a nod or a returning of the word.

2) "Hello": Is the exact same thing as "Hi", but more proper. "Hi" is the slang version of "Hello". It's the shortened version.

3) *** "What's up?": This is a question, not a greeting. Yes, it is used as "Hi" but it doesn't mean "Hi". It means, "I'm wondering how you're doing, why don't you tell me what's going on in your life." This one is one of the ones I see most commonly used wrong. I'll give you an example as to how it's used wrong after we're done breaking this list down. (NOTE: The greetings with *** fall under the example that will be given) 

4) ***" 'Sup?": Like "Hi" is the slang brother of "Hello", " 'Sup" is the slang brother of "What's up?" It means the same thing, yet it is more often times used as meaning "Hi" then actually used to wonder about what's going on in someone's life.

5) *** "How's it Going?": This one has the exact same meaning as "What's up." Again, a question, not an actually "Hello" 

6) "How Are You?": This one tends to be used properly. Though, sometimes it is misused in the same way as (3), (4), and (5). Normally -from what I've observed -when someone says this they actually are curious about how you are and are not just trying to do the socially acceptable action of acknowledging your presence.

7 and 8): "Hey." and "Hey!": There is a difference. "Hey." is spoken much like "Hi" and "Hello" are. It has the same meaning. However, "Hey!" is a prompt for conversation. If someone energetically says "Hey!" to you then the chances that they want a conversation are pretty high.

Now, with that being said, here's the example I promised you. This is an actual conversation that took place between me and a customer at work. Pay attention to what we're saying and see if you can catch on to why I decided to write this blog.


Customer: "How's it going?" 

Me: Well. You?

Customer: 'Sup?

Me:...um...nothing. You?"

Customer: Eh, can't complain.

Can you spot what's wrong with that conversation? If not, allow me to help you. The customer greeted me with a question, the question "How's it going?", and I answered said question before returning it to him. He them asked me another question...it becomes clear that he meant his first question to mean "Hi" and to not be answered. I still answer the second and again return it to him...then he responds as if I had asked him the first question again.

My question for you is why? Why in the world do we communicate like that? Surly we know our language better than we appear to...or are we really that horrible with our own words? We really need to start paying attention to what we say. To how we greet people, because we aren't greeting people properly.

My challenge for you is to start listening to what people are saying to you -to what you are saying to others -when you greet each other, and to try greeting each other in a proper manner.

The Wine Press Incident

On Tuesday the first of October, at 2:00 am, my friend and I found ourselves wide awake and discussing ZIP codes. Why we were discussing ZIP codes is a story in and of itself, but this story focuses on the results of that one. When one finds something interesting, they look into it. When two find the same thing interesting, they discus it. So, my friend and I discussed ZIP codes after an interesting textbook reading (yes, textbooks can be interesting). The results of such conversation, however, lead to an interesting event in the following hours.

The sun had not yet risen when I had awoken from my four hour slumber. I was groggily, like most people are when they first wake up, and hurried to get ready so my friend and I could get breakfast before classes started. We made it to breakfast and it was obvious that neither of us were fully awake, but we had no plans on skipping classes. We're at college to learn, not sleep, so we dragged ourselves to our classes.

My first class that day happened to be at 8:00 am, and was an Art History class. All seemed to be going well. I didn't need to talk much, but I did have to keep myself from dozing off when the professor shut the lights off to show some pictures on the projector.

We were talking about Martin Luther when it started. The Professor asked a simple question, "What are indulgences?"

No one answered. We sat in silence for a minute or so before I raised my hand. As many of you know, I'm an English major. I love the English language and know the definitions to many, many words. The professor called on me and I gave him the correct answer. "

"Indulgences are something, like a slip of paper, you buy that's supposed to get you or a loved one into heaven."

Class continued and we were talking about how the printing press started and what the inspiration behind it was. On the screen, in front of the class, appeared a picture of an old wine press.

The professor asked, "Can anyone tell me what this is?"

Again no one answered.

I stared at it for a bit, knowing what it was but finding myself unable to produce its name. Then I was called on.

"Ashley, what is this?"

For the life of me I couldn't recall what the name of the object was, so my brain seemed to decided the best option was to just give it's description.

"Um, it's the thing where you turn the handle and it drops that thing that falls and squishes grapes."

The professor stared at me for a moment before cracking a grin and saying, "You mean a wine press?"

"Yeah! That thing!" I exclaimed. That was the name I had been searching for.

Not my finest moment, by far, but definitely an mildly humorous one. I've shared the story with my friend, who I was awake with the night before, and she's determined not to let me live it down. I deserve it though. Seriously! A wine press! I should have known that! I did know that, but for some reason I couldn't say it.

Thus was discovered that I can't name objects in the early hours after late night conversations...I can only describe things using juvenile language.