Absense makes the heart grow fonder

I have been away from this blog for far too long. It's not that I haven't had things to talk about (I've had plenty) I just found myself busy with other things - summer classes, novel writing, gallivanting about Minneapolis, musing greatly on the elegance of hedgehogs (both blog-wise and novel-wise). I've also found myself thinking greatly about change and feeling much more accepting of it than in the past. Especially as one of my friends from high school got married this summer and, as she was the first to do so in my group of friends, it was a big leap for me mentally. But if there are perfect couples in the world, [action is eloquence] and her husband are it.

www.facebook.com/pages/J-May-Images/142770071996

Also, some time ago I was nominated for the Most Versatile Blogger award by MAG (many thanks for this!)

And I am thus-wise required to provide a list of 7 bloggers who are relatively new to blogging. I don't really have any, so I'm just providing the links to 7 blogs I really love:

1) The Slow Show  / /The Pochyemuchka Diaries  (same blogger, two blogs, so I'm going to count it as one :D)
2) The Black Hole Symposium 
3) Recalculating Route
4) The Jane Austen Film Club
5) Valknut
6) Hollywood Hates Me
7) Atalanta's Antics

I love them all. :D

So that's all for now. More updates coming soon, I think with school starting up again I'll have random stuff to yammer about. But if I'm not around, feel free to check out my other blog: Martin Freeman is not a hedgehog. Cheers!

Pride

So, for the first time I went to Minneapolis's Pride a couple of weekends ago. I have one thing to implore the city of Minneapolis: Why can't you be this warm and welcoming all the time?

http://images.stuffofawesome.com/minneapolis-pride-1309122003-1014.jpg

Really, people were so happy and delighted to be out in the bright summer weather, walking up and down Hennipen and talking to one another when most of the time walking down Hennipen results in people ignoring you or walking into whilst talking on their cell phones. Also, the mayor of Minneapolis rode down the street on a motorcycle. I think this should definitely happen more often. 

http://metromag.com

I was also at the Saloon's block party that evening (after getting terribly sunburned watching Italy win in the quarter finals of soccer/football/calcio on the rooftop of a pub in Minneapolis called the Brit) and was reminded of how short I am after being surrounded by guys all over six feet tall. I also met a guy from Canada who remarked on our voting situation this fall. Come November, Minnesotans are voting as to whether marriage is defined as a union between a man and a woman or not. The "not" refers to supporting gay marriage. So, basically, in order to support GLBT rights, one has to vote "no" which feels very, very bizarre. However, the man from Canada I was talking to found the whole idea of voting on human rights more bizarre. "They kept asking me to fill out these pledge cards," he said, "and I just couldn't understand the idea of voting on human rights. I mean," he turned to me, "that's like voting to allow women to vote."

This just in: Canadians are freaking brilliant.

Overall, it was a marvelous weekend. I also saw the movie Brave, which was fantastic (you can read a review of it on my sister blog, Martin Freeman is not a Hedgehog. Yep, that's actually the name of my blog. Weird, I know).

The War Between Us

I meant to write a post on this ages ago but never got around to it because... well, because of reasons. But I saw this Facebook post from my friend and former flute instructor [Mickie] and felt that I should definitely get around to writing this:

Let me give the back story on this: last year, [Mickie] lost her job at the local middle school she'd been working at since I'd first met her (and long before that too). Despite tenure, despite her obvious skill and talent, she lost her job along with my high school band teacher and choir directors. Aside from hating to see such talented people unfairly lose their jobs and having some of the strongest bonds to my hometown cut through, it was another warning sign of what's happening to music programs in the US. One hidden blessing from my failed audition to the School of Music at my university is that I don't have to worry about the difficulties of finding a job in that field, which are scarce and far between, even for people with a lot of experience.

But fortunately for [Mickie], she was able to find another job at a middle school in a nearby town. Sadly, she also lost this job this year due to, what else, budget issues and staff cutbacks. Because the fine arts are "expensive" and reap less benefits to a school district than, say, football, fine arts programs are the first to go.

Also, articles like this don't help. As if "determined by science" could mean anything here.

I hate it when people play the "art vs. science" card. They've been designed to be opposites for ages, even though they got together like peanut butter and Nutella (this is the best thing on the planet. Trust me). Art can't function without science and science can't function without art. Need proof of this? Take a look at your common household plant. Aesthetically, they've very pleasing; artists have been painting still lifes of flowers and plants for many a century. But plants are also scientifically brilliant, with their photosynthesis and fertilization structure. And did you know they can get fevers? (I learned that from a Snapple cap). Point is, there is no reason for anyone to argue that art and science don't work together.

But somewhere, somehow, the philosophy behind these two fields found themselves apposed and now we're in a war between the two of them, staking claims between what can be known and what can't, what is real and what isn't, what can be created and what can't. Really, I think it's all a communication issue. Because I mean, look at this:

http://education.ezinemark.com/most-amazing-science-images-of-2010-77369ad98736.html

This is the gene map of a plant called Arabidopsis. Sweet, right?


Okay, okay, so it's easy to find art in science. But what about science in art? Harder, admittedly, because certain kinds of science have tried to firmly drawn the line between what is actual science and what is... well, not. This was something my research methods class really shoved down our throats, which I think is fascinating considering my favorite parts of psychology are admittedly very unscientific. But look at any painting and you can see how visual perception and geometry and balance play vital roles. Music of course is highly based on physics. And acting... God, acting is a science of itself, doing a case study to figure out how another human being lives and become them on stage or screen.

http://nerdnirvana.org

I could meander on about the importance of arts but there's already this brilliant post on it. So read that, because it's really really good. It's a shame that things like subjects listed on Newsweek's Tumblr are thought of as useless because they were never useless to me. What surprises me are things like philosophy and architecture and history, for God's sake, and political science being useless. Really? Are you kidding me? When we have a million nurses and but no one understands how to communicate with each other or understand where we're coming from, don't say I didn't warn you. We need nurses, yes, but we also need them to understand bedside manner and the way people think and why, sometimes, you just need to sit back and think, "Jesus, a century ago we couldn't remove limbs without being terrified that the patient was going to die of gangrene and now we can do heart transplants. DUDE."

In order to really appreciate science, you need art. In order to really appreciate art, you need science. They aren't art war; they're two sides of the same coin. So stop making them fight - they belong together more than I think we'll ever completely understand. Give our artists and writers and thespians and historians a chance - you never know if they'll win a Nobel prize for physics or find the cure for cancer. And you never know if your med student is going to win a Pulitzer or and Grammy.

http://www.business-strategy-innovation.com/uploaded_images/Art-Science-773522.jpg

Why the USPS is dumb

So I'm supposed to be getting rent checks from tenants who aren't living on site right now and they haven't come through. Fearing it may be due to my change of address (I literally just moved down the hall from one apartment to another) I decided maybe I should do a forward address thing on the US Post Office's website so I could actually receive mail.

I filled out all the lines on the online form and was about to submit it when the last page told me it would cost $9.99 for the post office to "handle the change." Also my debit card had to be billed to either my old address or my new address, otherwise the card would be declined for me doing something fraudulent. This angered me for several reasons.

1) I'm pretty sure that my debit card is "billed" (because debit cards don't have bills) to my parents' house, which is technically still my permanent residence. I could change this, except the last time I checked, TCF Bank doesn't recognize that I have an actual account with them because I have this weird debit card program through the University and my card actually expires when I graduate so I should probably look into getting a different card... The point is, the USPS fails to take into account the weird living situations of college students. Which is kind of annoying.

2) I am not changing the billing address for my debit card for 12 months when there probably isn't any actual mail to forward and whatever I was supposed to get probably just got lost because -

3) The post office sucks. Really. WHO CHARGES 10 BUCKS FOR A CHANGE OF ADDRESS? "We need ten dollars to process your change." Really, do you? REALLY? Isn't dealing with change just what the post office is supposed to do on its own? People move! It happens!

So, US Post Office, I am not giving you $10 because I moved one unit over and I have a different mail box. If I don't get my Minnesota Opera updates, oh well. If there's anything else important I'm supposed to get, hopefully you will realize that I am still in this building and, though the apartment number is different, it should still be delivered here. Or just give it to 202. The girl living next door is very nice and I'm sure she won't mind giving me my mail. But for the love of God, please deliver the checks. They've been resent to my new address and I still haven't gotten them.

Screw you, USPS. Screw you.

Don't Let It Break Your Heart

Generally I wouldn't write a blog post about this sort of thing, but perhaps it's best to get it off my chest than trying to avoid it. It's easier for me to work through writing anyway, so here it goes.

Back in early April, while my parents were coming back from a spring break trip to visit family in Indiana, my mom had a heart attack. Fortunately enough they were back in Minnesota when it hit and somehow (miraculously, perhaps) they were able to find a clinic to stop at, where she was airlifted to Abbot Heart Hospital. I'd never visited anyone in the hospital before this and it is the strangest feeling, especially when it is one of your parents. She had three stents placed in her heart and found has a heart condition that is hereditary (and it's likely I have it too) called hypertropic cardiomyopathy that causes higher risk of heart attacks (yes, I like using big words). It was really serious, really scary, and really shocking, but my mom made a completely recovery. I spent my Easter there, playing Clue with my parents and watching the Twins lose their season opener and, while it was a little strange, it was okay. My mother was doing really well and, with medication, diet, and cardio rehab, things were great.

Then over Memorial weekend, another completely unrelated event sent my mom to the hospital. She had an umbilical hernia that was causing blockage and she needed immediate surgery. Again, it was serious, it was scary, and it was surprising, but she's out of the hospital as of Saturday and doing just fine. It's all a bit of a shock, made all the more surprising by how few health problems we've had in our family before. Sure, we have a long history of health problems (I have a great uncle who died at 10 of a heart attack; if you look up stuff on the heart condition that my family has you'll understand why) but nothing that's immediately affected either of my parents. It's been kind of rough.

But I can't let it get me down. Things could be worse. I'm just so grateful that my mom is such a strong woman and has dealt with all this marvelously. She amazes me.

That Year

It's hard for me to believe that just a year ago, I was in Scotland right now (I include the above song because I heard it in a clothing store in Glasgow. Every time I hear this cover, I think of that city). And now, here I am, sitting on my parent's deck, having weird sensations of déjà vu, drinking a gin and tonic, worrying about things (as always), and watching postings come up on Tumblr about the BAFTAS (because, sadly, they are not live-streamed).

I just can't believe it was a year ago.

I've changed so much since then. I've gained and lost so much since then.

Yet some days it feels like it was just yesterday.

And now I miss it more than ever.

Which is why, shortly before the end of the school year, I decided that when I graduate I'm moving to the UK. Unless something un-forseen happens, I plan on finding a flat in London for next September, a city I haven't been to since I was sixteen and have missed ever since. I miss these places, in all honesty, more than I miss some of my friends. I feel like a stranger in my own hometown and, if song lyrics are to be regarded as philosophy, perhaps that means it's time to leave.

I guess I finally decided to post this today, thought I've been meaning to for weeks, because I've hit some sort of resolution. Some of my friends are no longer my friends. Bad things happen, whether you're here or there. It's your life and you should do what you want. And I want to go to London.

Although, goddammit, New York is trying rather hard to seduce me too. :)

The thing is, in one year I'll be leaving Minneapolis.  I love this amazing, brilliant city, but my heart is being called elsewhere. Somewhere I can easily take a cab, where there are so many opportunities to do things I never dreamed of, where I can have good reason to feel like a somebody and a nobody all at once. Minneapolis will always be my first real home, but I'm the sort of person that has more than one. And while I love New York, I feel my heart drawn across the pond for reasons I can't really describe. I just want to experience, long term, what it feels like to be a foreigner. I want to know what it's like to find oneself in a country you weren't born in. I want to make mistakes and sound funny and dream of improbable things. I want to have one of the largest cities in the world become everyday to me and yet never lose its magic.

I want to do something people didn't expect of me. Because I am more than one person's expectations. Maybe I'll be back in Minneapolis after a year or two, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll settle down in London, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll publish a book before I graduate and settle down in Chelsea and live in a posh little flat with a view of the Thames. Maybe I'll be broke and living in Kelvingrove Park in Glasgow. Who knows?

But let's find out, shall we? :D

Extremely Loud and Too Close

Have you ever had one of those friends you wonder how exactly you end up hanging out with them because you don't really like them and yet you enjoy hanging out with them because they're totally insane?

This is essentially how my acquaintanceship/ friendship with [slightly pansexual, mostly annoying] works. He awkwards me out, he makes an average situation suddenly far more complicated than it needs to be, and you can't walk down the street without him talking to random passerbys. However, he has fantastic stories about drunkenly driving golf carts into ponds and getting multiple DWIs. I'm not saying he's a good, safe person to be around. But he is... interesting.

A few weeks before school got out, I went to an Eric Hutchinson concert at First Avenue with [save the panzer], his brother, another friend, and [slightly pansexual, mostly annoying]. After the phenomenal show, they decided to get food at a nearby Rainbow store. One of the automatic doors wasn't working and [slightly pansexual, mostly annoying] ran into it. He confusedly followed us into through the exit. He then loudly shouted to the store employees whether the store was open, since the entrance doors were locked. They responded that they were in fact open (which was assumable, as we were standing in the store now) and we slowly gathered our food items.

Now, apparently upon entering the store, one of my classmates was at the checkout and I must have looked right at her. I didn't see her, as I was trying not to die of embarrassment. A week or two later, she asked me if I'd been at that Rainbow lately. At first I was confused and realized what she must have been talking about. "Wait, was I with a really loud guy?" I asked. "Yeah," she replied, "he seemed really drunk." "Oh, he wasn't drunk. He hadn't even had anything to drink yet. You should see him when he's drunk," I assured her astonished expression.

And trust me, I have seen him drunk. This guy is the sort who makes vodka and juice concoctions with so much more vodka than juice the ice cubes go glassy and clear. He was pretty wasted on [save the panzer]'s birthday. So much so that he started humping a vace-shaped sculpture on Nicollet Mall. So, sorry, people of Minneapolis, if this man has been responsible for making your average night strange and uncomfortable. I am not responsible - he is a fully grown man who is entirely capable of following his own guidance. And it is a free country. Why he continues to hang out with younger people, I don't know. I actually don't know how old he is; he jokingly told the cab driver on [save the panzer]'s birthday that he was 45. His age and/or birth year are not on Facebook so doing the math to figure it out is no good. Doesn't matter. He could be from the 51st century for all I know.

That would be rather awkward.

Much like this photo.

Yeah, that pretty much says it all. Me laughing and crying at the same time. Accurate.

Catching Up

I've been away from here for quite a while, with the end of the semester and moving into a new apartment. I've got a series of half-finished posts but I just haven't gotten around to finishing them. They will get finished, but until then, here's an earworm I can't get out of my head: