Blood

Caution: This blog contains graphic descriptions and coarse language. (Sorry Sal)


We were supposed to blog about "A Bronx Tale" so i'll make my connection right off the bat. I know what it feels like to get the shit kicked out of you (or at least your mouth.)

I play water polo. Today I went to a men's practice because I wanted to pass more. I passed, I played, and then in the last five minutes of virtual nothingness a decent sized man accidentally hit me so goddamn hard in the face that I saw stars. I saw stars, and then I let my tongue drift around, and I could feel two goddamn teeth sitting halfway in the roof of my mouth. When you near pass out of shock it's hard to feel pain but that doesn't stop the blood from coming.

It bled like a shot artery, and when I saw myself I didn't give two shits about the fact that my lip was partially torn or that I needed to go to the ER- I just thought about my boyfriend and my beauty. Will he love me? Will I be able to get some serious dental surgery by tomorrow morning? And even now at 12:17 AM after spending some quality time with my pops at Highland Park Hospital I can only feel vain.

I'm still bleeding hard, and there's not too much on my lip to stitch anyway. I have a 7:30 A.M appointment with a dentist, and so much hate in the pit of my stomach that it's unbelievable. My gums are completely fucked up, and I can't look at myself in the mirror because I become completely overcome with disgust.

People say that love is everlasting. Through thick and thin the one that loves you will stay. I don't want to be with me right now so how could I make my boyfriend look at me. Maybe i'm writing a blog this open because i'm suffering a mild concussion, but as I sat in Highland Park in a wet swimsuit in the middle of Febuary covered in blood- I could only think: will he love me?

What is this sociological dilemma?

I wish I knew.

I can feel my mouth coming apart against the backs of my freshly crooked teeth.

I'm going to go get some legal drugs.

Goodnight.

I Really Want Brownies

It's Valentines Day, and I feel fine.

I'm in a steady relationship so there's no reason for me to go home, eat my feelings, and watch lifetime like all my Valentines Days past- but yet there is something missing.

I really want a brownie.

I don't want chocolates or roses.

I just really want a brownie.

My soul is empty and hungry.

I need this baked good.

What does this mean on a sociological level? Most likely nothing, but if anyone is reading this and by any chance is holding (brownies) please let me know.

Some Kind of Strange

There was a raging debate on the ethics of swallowing your own spit today; i'm not sure how pleasant it would be to do a double take with my own bodily secretions but I think I could lap my own spit back up if need be...

Now someone else's loogy? I don't think I could make myself down a stranger's spit unless I was offered a reward. For cash money anything can be done.

I think that's such an ironic thing about our society. We've set all of these social standards and stigmas around things we claim to be absolutely volatile, but if you give someone just the right amount of cash nearly all societal rules can be broken.

We're only willing to make changes within ourselves and our beliefs for a prize. If a teacher told me that a worksheet was optional and virtually irrelevant to the material needed for a test or quiz I would probably throw the worksheet out almost immediately. It doesn't even matter that I could've learned something new and interesting- all that matters is that the sheet doesn't offer me any reward so why bother?

Unless we can learn to break out of this constant rewards system much of our social progress can seriously be halted. We've reached an era where most of us refuse to do things unless they can benefit us in some sort of way.

I am totally guilty of playing a role in this system, but I hope that I can find ways to break my needy habits. We have become a very self centered society perpetuated by our personal greed. Of course we'd all suck someone's spit back up---the only difference is our price.

Silence is Golden

I am a firm believer in silence. Whether it be awkward or not- keep the silence going.

"Awkward silence" is just a ridiculous term. You can't characterize the lack of noise as anything but a lack of noise. Going along with the whole idea that this is a Sociology class i'm going to say that silences only seem awkward when they occur in situations that we don't find to be normally silent in our societies. Of course complete silence on the first day of a class seems strange because we've been trained to think that a situation like that requires some kind of verbalizing.

So, silence isn't anything but silence...the awkwardness is all in the mood that the lack of noise creates-- not in the noise itself.

In my opinion silence is golden, and sometimes it's just better when people don't speak; the constant need to talk can create a mood much worse than awkwardness, and excess noise can bring forth the following: extreme headaches, waves of nausea, and pure unadulterated annoyance.

Keep yourself and your classmates educated,
Embrace the "sound of silence."

Straight Blogging

It's the computer age so blogging seems logical in and out of the classroom. I'm not sure how much i'm going to be willing to say for thirty kids I don't really know, but what the hell. I'm rewriting this whole entry at 5:53 P.M, and i've only got about seven more minutes before I disengage from the computer to enjoy some television. I'm sure that in the years to come things will be even easier for me--i'm talking comcast internet TV.

It's 5:55 P.M and i'm ready to check my email, my facebook, and get out of here.

Yeah technology...!