I love sushi. It seems only natural. What was once a strange and questionably disturbing dish served in Japan has now been adopted by Westerners, particularly by 20-something hipster kids who will latch on to anything unusual, like me. There is something about fish being kept raw that preserves the real flavor of the meat. The texture is tender and pleasant, and the cold temperature at which the fish is kept makes sushi a soothing treat on a hot, humid summer day.
My mother knows my love of the dish, and while she doesn't quite understand it, she accepts it and even goes to the restaurants with me on occasion, though her strictly vegetarian diet steers her more in the direction of avocado rolls and tempura vegetables.
Unfortunately, my grandfather is not as open-minded, and also unfortunately, my mother doesn't always know when to keep her mouth shut. One day as I sat at the table eating a piece of cooked tilapia and my grandfather commented on the distinct smell, my mother decided to offer a little too much information: "This girl eats fish raw!" My face fell automatically, knowing exactly what was in store for me.
My grandfather is a product of the Depression-era southern United States. He is set in his ways and he is always right. You cannot convince him otherwise, because his only reasoning will be, simply, that you are absolutely wrong. My grandfather attends church three times a week and criticizes those who don't do the same. The Bible, in his mind, is 100% correct and meant to be taken completely literally and obeyed to the letter; if you fail to agree, no matter how deep your relationship with God, you are living in sin and must repent. He lives on a highly German, utilitarian diet of root vegetables, cabbage and sausages. Basically, if you don't share his religion, his lifestyle, his dietary choices or any of his aesthetic preferences, then you are absolutely, positively, hopelessly weird and wrong. But, bless his heart, he means well.
As I sat there with my tilapia, trying to be invisible, I could feel his judging eyes boring into me. "You know," he started with an incredulous and almost angry tone in his voice, "I used to go deep-sea fishing and those fish are completely full of worms!" After I explained meekly to him that sushi-grade fish is inspected thoroughly and thus there should be little to worry about, he paused, shook his head and took another bite out of his sausage.
I was relieved that his reaction was this mild. I have passed the phase of being upset about the disappointed look on his face; after all, I don't go to church, so my diet is the least of his worries. Despite that, I would not want to trouble him further, so the next time I go to indulge in my favorite food (while trying not to think of worms) he will be blissfully unaware of the fact.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
First lines to essays I want to write
(Note: These are not necessarily the same essay topics which I mentioned in my last post.)
1. I will never forget the first time I laid eyes on the man who would, as it turns out, be the one to drive me completely insane.
2. All my life it seems that nothing in the world has quite fit right on me.
3. Of all the places to observe the ubiquitous stupidity that runs rampant throughout humanity, perhaps the least expected place I have found it is in regards to the cell phone.
4. In my adolescence, I spent countless hours traveling across the state and beyond to concerts and events in an attempt to find a "scene" that I liked; that is why it is ironic that I found it right here in Ada, Oklahoma, once a month in a small club off of Highway 99. [Note: I don't like this one much, but this is brainstorming, after all.]
5. It is surprising what nature can offer in the way of imparting knowledge on the spiritual world to those who will simply stop and listen.
1. I will never forget the first time I laid eyes on the man who would, as it turns out, be the one to drive me completely insane.
2. All my life it seems that nothing in the world has quite fit right on me.
3. Of all the places to observe the ubiquitous stupidity that runs rampant throughout humanity, perhaps the least expected place I have found it is in regards to the cell phone.
4. In my adolescence, I spent countless hours traveling across the state and beyond to concerts and events in an attempt to find a "scene" that I liked; that is why it is ironic that I found it right here in Ada, Oklahoma, once a month in a small club off of Highway 99. [Note: I don't like this one much, but this is brainstorming, after all.]
5. It is surprising what nature can offer in the way of imparting knowledge on the spiritual world to those who will simply stop and listen.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Five titles I would like to write about
1. "On Individual Thought"
2. "Life, the Universe and Everything" (I'm ambitious, OK?)
3. "Stupid People and the Stupid Things They Do"
4. "On Language"
5. "The Lost Art of Prudence"
2. "Life, the Universe and Everything" (I'm ambitious, OK?)
3. "Stupid People and the Stupid Things They Do"
4. "On Language"
5. "The Lost Art of Prudence"
Favorite first lines
"What a strange, demented feeling it gives me when I realize I have spent whole days before this inkstone, with nothing better to do, jotting down at random whatever nonsensical thoughts have entered my head." --Kenko, "Essays in Idleness"
"To the extent that useful thoughts are fuller and more solid, they are also more absorbing and more burdensome." --Montaigne, "On Some Verses of Virgil"
"There is a spider crawling along the matted floor of the room where I sit (not the one which has been so well allegorised in the admirable "Lines to a Spider," but another of the same edifying breed); he runs with heedless, hurried haste, he hobbles awkwardly towards me, he stops -- he sees the giant shadow before him, and, at a loss whether to retreat or proceed, meditates his huge foe -- but as I do not start up and seize upon the straggling caitiff, as he would upon a hapless fly within his toils, he takes heart, and ventures on with mingled cunning, impudence, and fear." --William Hazlitt, "On the Pleasure of Hating"
"M. Bergson, in his well-known essay on this theme, says ... well, he says many things; but none of these, though I have just read them, do I clearly remember, nor am I sure that in the act of reading I understood any of them." --Max Beerbohm, "Laughter"
"I had strongly hoped that they would say sweetbreads instead of testicles, but I was wrong." --Sara Suleri, "Meatless Days"
"To the extent that useful thoughts are fuller and more solid, they are also more absorbing and more burdensome." --Montaigne, "On Some Verses of Virgil"
"There is a spider crawling along the matted floor of the room where I sit (not the one which has been so well allegorised in the admirable "Lines to a Spider," but another of the same edifying breed); he runs with heedless, hurried haste, he hobbles awkwardly towards me, he stops -- he sees the giant shadow before him, and, at a loss whether to retreat or proceed, meditates his huge foe -- but as I do not start up and seize upon the straggling caitiff, as he would upon a hapless fly within his toils, he takes heart, and ventures on with mingled cunning, impudence, and fear." --William Hazlitt, "On the Pleasure of Hating"
"M. Bergson, in his well-known essay on this theme, says ... well, he says many things; but none of these, though I have just read them, do I clearly remember, nor am I sure that in the act of reading I understood any of them." --Max Beerbohm, "Laughter"
"I had strongly hoped that they would say sweetbreads instead of testicles, but I was wrong." --Sara Suleri, "Meatless Days"
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Personal essay questions
I. The Conversational Element (xxiv-xxv). Would you describe yourself as someone who often feels ambivalent about issues? Are you the kind of person who has lots of doubts? Do you make a habit of examining your doubts?
I would not call myself ambivalent, per se. I love to have intellectual conversations with anyone who is willing (and capable), and I consider myself open minded to others' views. I am opinionated and persuasive, but also not too resistant to persuasion myself if the argument is good enough. Throughout the course of an argument I might adjust my viewpoints due to either external or internal input -- that is, through another's persuasions or my own counterpoints in a stream of consciousness. I am not so much doubtful as a thorough thinker.
II. Honesty, Confession, and Privacy (xxv-xxvii). Would you describe yourself as a private person or do you tend to be more of an "open book"?
Like most people, I cannot fully place myself on one side of the fence. On one hand, I like to talk about myself as much as I like to hear about others. On the other hand, there are some things about me that some people don't need to know. For the most part I am honest about myself -- or at least how I perceive myself -- but the amount of information I withhold from others depends on to whom I am talking. Also, I find it much easier to talk about who I am than what I have done. Characteristics are easier to admit to than actions because they are generally more consistent.
III. The Contractions and Expansions of the Self (xxvii-xxix). How comfortable do you feel about talking about your flaws or things you've done in the past that embarrass you now? Are proud of your knowledge of a particular subject?
Things that happened in the far-off past are fairly easy to talk about when served with a healthy dose of humor. Sometimes it is difficult to get an objective view on more recent embarrassments and flaws when there is not enough time to think past the emotions involved. I prefer to discuss things when I can think rationally about them.
As for knowledge, I am proud of my amount of knowledge on etymology for someone who has not taken lots of classes on the subject. I feel like I have a fairly good grasp on words and their origins, and I am actually weighing my options as to how I can expand on that and use it in my future career, whatever that may be.
IV. The Role of Contrariety (30-31). How comfortable do you feel expressing an opinion that you know others will disagree with?
This is a funny subject. At first I am excited to express my viewpoints. Then, right after I've said it, I realize that people don't actually like my opinions and I often instantly regret saying anything ... and yet I do it again without thought next time.
Actually, this is not always true. My willingness to offer my opinions is usually dictated by how intimidated I am by the party. Usually I am not, but every now and then someone comes along that really kind of scares me. Maybe the person is adamant in the fact that he or she has the only correct opinion in the universe, or maybe they just don't seem like the type that would like to talk to me in a civilized manner. Whatever the case, I would rather keep my mouth shut in fear of getting my feelings hurt. Perhaps this makes me a coward in some sense, but in the case of self-preservation it's a character flaw with which I am willing to live.
I also realize that not everyone disagrees with me. It is astounding how many likeminded individuals I have found -- in college, especially -- when I am someone with such a strange combination of conservative and liberal ideals. However, there seem to have been more people than not who would rather boisterously put down the opinions of "that weird chick" than discuss things rationally.
I would not call myself ambivalent, per se. I love to have intellectual conversations with anyone who is willing (and capable), and I consider myself open minded to others' views. I am opinionated and persuasive, but also not too resistant to persuasion myself if the argument is good enough. Throughout the course of an argument I might adjust my viewpoints due to either external or internal input -- that is, through another's persuasions or my own counterpoints in a stream of consciousness. I am not so much doubtful as a thorough thinker.
II. Honesty, Confession, and Privacy (xxv-xxvii). Would you describe yourself as a private person or do you tend to be more of an "open book"?
Like most people, I cannot fully place myself on one side of the fence. On one hand, I like to talk about myself as much as I like to hear about others. On the other hand, there are some things about me that some people don't need to know. For the most part I am honest about myself -- or at least how I perceive myself -- but the amount of information I withhold from others depends on to whom I am talking. Also, I find it much easier to talk about who I am than what I have done. Characteristics are easier to admit to than actions because they are generally more consistent.
III. The Contractions and Expansions of the Self (xxvii-xxix). How comfortable do you feel about talking about your flaws or things you've done in the past that embarrass you now? Are proud of your knowledge of a particular subject?
Things that happened in the far-off past are fairly easy to talk about when served with a healthy dose of humor. Sometimes it is difficult to get an objective view on more recent embarrassments and flaws when there is not enough time to think past the emotions involved. I prefer to discuss things when I can think rationally about them.
As for knowledge, I am proud of my amount of knowledge on etymology for someone who has not taken lots of classes on the subject. I feel like I have a fairly good grasp on words and their origins, and I am actually weighing my options as to how I can expand on that and use it in my future career, whatever that may be.
IV. The Role of Contrariety (30-31). How comfortable do you feel expressing an opinion that you know others will disagree with?
This is a funny subject. At first I am excited to express my viewpoints. Then, right after I've said it, I realize that people don't actually like my opinions and I often instantly regret saying anything ... and yet I do it again without thought next time.
Actually, this is not always true. My willingness to offer my opinions is usually dictated by how intimidated I am by the party. Usually I am not, but every now and then someone comes along that really kind of scares me. Maybe the person is adamant in the fact that he or she has the only correct opinion in the universe, or maybe they just don't seem like the type that would like to talk to me in a civilized manner. Whatever the case, I would rather keep my mouth shut in fear of getting my feelings hurt. Perhaps this makes me a coward in some sense, but in the case of self-preservation it's a character flaw with which I am willing to live.
I also realize that not everyone disagrees with me. It is astounding how many likeminded individuals I have found -- in college, especially -- when I am someone with such a strange combination of conservative and liberal ideals. However, there seem to have been more people than not who would rather boisterously put down the opinions of "that weird chick" than discuss things rationally.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
On Writing
I have an odd relationship with writing. The best way to explain would be through examples.
At the age of five, I had finally learned how to write, kind of. As soon as I was able to put together somewhat coherent sentences, I begged my mother to take me to a local stationery store to buy a diary. As a child growing up in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood in southern California and thus one of the few in my class who did not converse in Spanish, journaling was how I expressed myself in my early youth. Even after moving to Oklahoma, I have kept at least one journal at a time throughout my whole literate life.
And then there was school work, in which writing became little more than a chore. Teachers seemed impressed, regardless. It seemed writing was the one thing I was good at; too bad I hated the academic style.
Thus, I made a foray into creative writing ... and fell flat on my face. My fiction lacked development. My poetry was just plain bad. Though I used creative writing as a mode of expression for a time, the constant dissatisfaction I felt toward all of my work led me to stop for the sake of my own sanity.
Right now I sit at a crossroads. Writing is still one of the only things I do that makes me feel competent. This has led me to write for the university's newspaper every week. Composing news stories often still feels like a chore, but the writing of critical entertainment reviews is probably the most liberating thing I could imagine doing in a professional setting. I have always been opinionated to a fault, so getting paid to express my opinion through a safe and familiar medium -- the written word -- is basically a dream come true.
Until I can reconcile my mixed emotions on the act of writing, I will most likely continue to experience a love-hate relationship with it. I love the English language. I hate time-consuming, scholarly obligations. For now, I stand somewhere in between the two in the worlds of mass media and journaling.
At the age of five, I had finally learned how to write, kind of. As soon as I was able to put together somewhat coherent sentences, I begged my mother to take me to a local stationery store to buy a diary. As a child growing up in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood in southern California and thus one of the few in my class who did not converse in Spanish, journaling was how I expressed myself in my early youth. Even after moving to Oklahoma, I have kept at least one journal at a time throughout my whole literate life.
And then there was school work, in which writing became little more than a chore. Teachers seemed impressed, regardless. It seemed writing was the one thing I was good at; too bad I hated the academic style.
Thus, I made a foray into creative writing ... and fell flat on my face. My fiction lacked development. My poetry was just plain bad. Though I used creative writing as a mode of expression for a time, the constant dissatisfaction I felt toward all of my work led me to stop for the sake of my own sanity.
Right now I sit at a crossroads. Writing is still one of the only things I do that makes me feel competent. This has led me to write for the university's newspaper every week. Composing news stories often still feels like a chore, but the writing of critical entertainment reviews is probably the most liberating thing I could imagine doing in a professional setting. I have always been opinionated to a fault, so getting paid to express my opinion through a safe and familiar medium -- the written word -- is basically a dream come true.
Until I can reconcile my mixed emotions on the act of writing, I will most likely continue to experience a love-hate relationship with it. I love the English language. I hate time-consuming, scholarly obligations. For now, I stand somewhere in between the two in the worlds of mass media and journaling.
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