Computers, Typewriters, and Hot Pink Elephants

Today’s Fun Fact: I learned how to type on a typewriter.

No joke. When I was in high school, Mom got a well known typing program for the computer. I HATED it. It made me want to chuck the computer out the window, or smash it with a baseball bat. (The theme of my adult life; in college, I had dreams of throwing my demon possessed laptop from my 3^rd story window and watching it smash into a million pieces. Someday…)

My Mother, the human recipient of my ire, decided a switch needed to be made. So she got out her old college typing book and the typewriter. I was much happier. I’d actually work on it and not just avoid/ignore it like math.

The interesting thing about typewriters is that your mistakes are harder to correct and much more noticeable. Even on the new ones that let you go back and white-out your mistake, there’s still an imprint of the letter. With a computer, you can erase mistakes like they never happened.

So much of our lives revolve around computers. Take me for instance, I’ve had extra time on my hands so what do I do, spend lots of time on Facebook, responding for once, and write multiple blog posts because it gives me something to do and lets me feel creative and connected.

But every word, even the tone can be edited and dictated. To be real, completely manipulating our image would be too much work for most of us. At least it would be for me, but we do it self consciously to a lesser extreme. We edit our lives, showing the fragments we want others to see; in both good and bad things.

If we decide a comment, status or photo was a mistake we delete it and hope not too many people saw it. Poof problem gone.

Sadly, life isn’t as convenient as a computer. People are more like typewriters. You have to adjust the tabs to match the form, and the mistakes never seem to fully go away. They may be covered and like a zit fade with time, but the evidence faintly remains.

My problem, I like being able to Photoshop my life, I’m afraid to be less than perfect. By perfect I mean, my life is together, I have a noble ambition and direction. I am confident in my ability to handle any situation that may come up in work or life. I have the answer you’re looking for, the solution. I’m the one you want on your team because I’m that dynamic individual who will get stuff done and always knows the right thing to say.

 But I’m not perfect. I might pretend to be, I might come across as sarcastically cocky or self-confident, ok, maybe I sometimes am, but I am also very aware of my faults. However dwelling on those in a job interview is not ok. The golden rule of interviewing, turn a negative into a positive. Let’s face it, who wants to hire someone with no self confidence, and is going to mess up all the time. That get’s you fired, not hired.

So we edit our resume, our Facebook, our interactions at work or church. Hide our doubts, fears and pain and turn that negative into a positive. Not that that’s a bad thing, trust me, staying cynical doesn’t help you move on. But the reality is my life looks more like a glue job by my 5-year-old self. The pictures are slanted and the paste is all over the page, and my mouth; (yes, I was the kid that ate paste), a page of crooked text, covered in mess ups, full of white-out.

The thing I can’t always wrap my head around is God is like a mega computer. He sees the mistakes, and doesn't mind. He doesn't expect us to be perfect, that's why Jesus died, to permanently erase the splotches. Instead of saying, "call me when your act's together" He proudly hangs my failed “art project” on the wall and says, “Now, draw me an elephant.”

I sit there wallowing, glaring at the garish eye sore I worked so hard on. “I can’t draw an elephant; I couldn’t even get the stick figure right.”

He grins, “But I can, I did invent them after all.”

“Even with your help, this is going to be a scribbled disaster.”

“Maybe, but I want you to learn to draw an elephant.”

“Why?”

“Character building.”

“Seriously?”

He simply smiles as I moodily eat the words I told my 10-year-old sister all summer in the field. “Fine, give me the crayon; I’ll try to draw a stupid elephant.”

He hands me hot pink. I shoot Him a glare that would have done my teenage self proud, “Pink, really? I hate pink.”

“This is the color I have chosen.”

“It’s a crummy color.”

“I don’t remember asking your opinion.”

Grumble, mumble, colorful metaphor or 6.

He ignores it and hands me a new sheet of paper. “Shall we begin?”

When Pictures Speak Wrong 1,000 Words

Several nights ago I was unfortunate enough to wake up around 4:30 am, moonlight shining brightly through the window by my bed. As my bleary eyes squinted at it I saw a jumble of what looked like 4  blurry, bright objects overlapping. Somehow, my sleep filled brain reached the conclusion that I needed to take a picture of this phenomenon because there must be some heavenly body shining near the moon, nearly as brightly, and how often to you see that!

So I rolled out of bed, grabbed my camera, and somehow managed to get several “clear shots”. For those who don’t wear glasses, this was no small feat, especially considering I was still half asleep.  Then I put the camera up, and went back to sleep, with pics to prove it happened….yeah.... Next day I was quite excited to tell my Dad and sister I had seen “two moons” in the wee morning hours. (Dad started humming Star Wars). However, I grew concerned when I realized I was the only one who had witnessed this. There were no pictures on the internet.

Confused and feeling like I dope, I was wise enough to quietly share this tale with the physics grad student (aka Leila) to see if she had an idea. Thankfully, after seeing my photos she was able to explain it was the reflection through the window, (something Joey basically said in 2 seconds said a day later when I showed him a picture) and admitted she’d been tripped up the first time she’d noticed something similar through a screen door.

Must admit, I felt kinda stupid, and rather disappointed, but I was glad to have discovered my mistake BEFORE I made myself into a complete idiot. 

Moral of the story, sleepiness, and blurry eyes can convince the brain of almost anything; even hours later when you’re more “awake” and “rational”.

On a different note, can I just say, every time I see how I reformatted this blog I get excited. Like a kid with a new toy, I can’t quite believe it’s mine.  Then again, as I can convince myself I’ve seen two “moons” I’m sure the disbelief will be short lived. 

Anyway, that's my story, and pathetic as it may be, I'm sticking to it. A picture does indeed speak a 1.000 words, however, in this case they were the wrong ones. I guess our eyes aren't infallible witnesses or the ultimate proof we tend to make them after all. 

Desolate?

Some days, the umbrella just hasn't quite gotten there yet. 

10 Years Back

In fine sister bonding, I dug out an early assignment to my English 1A class to show Suzi who's started her illustrious Merced College career this week. I'd run across the other day when weeding out old college papers and the post-it-note from the teacher caught my eye. It ran as follows:

8-21-03 (yes, I'm dating myself)

"Nicole,

Welcome to Merced College. You may need awhile to feel settled in as you make the transition from high school. Anyone who voluntarily reads Ivanhoe must really love to read!

Thanks for your comments."

(Suzi says Ivanhoe has to go in italics 'cause its the name of a book. Truthfully I forgot MLA format as soon as I possibly could. My poor English teacher would weep).

Naturally, this made me curious to what I actually wrote, and why in the world I mentioned Ivanhoe. I mean I like the book, but unless I had just been reading it, I have no idea why I would mention it. Sadly, I still have no idea because I don't have the answers to the actual survey, however assignment it was stuck to had some interesting, entertaining answers of it's own.

For those who didn't know me at that time, here is a glimpse of Nicole Alvernaz, barely 18, at the beginning of her college education, typed word for word. I even left the spelling the same.

6. Make a list of at least ten things that you are curious about:

I am curious of what my major is, how my grades will be in college, and will I attend a four year university.  If I do continue my education where will [I] continue it.

I am curious to know when I will finally get my licence. I wonder what color my parents are going to paint the knew car. 

I desire to know how car engines and other things work.

I am curious about what went on in my grandfathers life.

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in my baby sisters head. [That would have been Heidi].

Most of all I am curious to know what my next meal will be. 

It's nice to know, that no matter the passage of time, some things remain the same. I know the answer to some of these questions, others I may have given up on, like Heidi's head, but I still can't spell and I still wonder about food. 

Copy Cat

http://godlovesleila.blogspot.com/2013/08/life-stinks-by-nicole.html

Dang right I'm being a copy cat. Since I wrote it I can re-post it. But for those of you who already have seen this, which is most of you, an extra nugget.

A quote for digestion, told to Roy Hobbs in The Natural. “I believe we live two lives. The one we learn with and the one we live with after that.” 

My Blog is Making Me Face Palm

I hate to say this, and they will probably hate me if they ever find out, but some of my brethren are anime freaks. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Despite what some of them try to claim in ridiculous fashion that, “they’ve seen the least, and they don’t know what you’re talking about…”

The bug apparently bit in college, I’m not sure what started it, but it became very infections. When I found out I said “WHAT?!?” I’ve never desired to watch it; the drawings themselves made me dislike it and the few random episodes I watched with a friend I didn’t really appreciate. I mean it was ok, but not really my cup of tea.

But as time went my siblings started nagging me to watch it, I didn’t want to, but they were inviting me in so, in solidarity, decided to give it a try. I wouldn’t call myself a “fan”, (of course some may say I’m simply in denial), but true confession, I’ve actually found myself enjoying it some. (Insert face palm here). 

I have now seen enough episodes that I understand why people like it. It’s because if you can get past the drawings and silliness, anime has a lot of depth to at least the ones I’ve seen. (Unfortunately some of the series are very long. Very, very long, unending as it were, like the Wheel of Time, but it does allow for a lot of character development).

Most of the characters have pain somewhere in their back story. You may not know it at first, they may be the “privileged” or “lucky” one when first introduced; an “antagonist” to the main character who’s trying to overcome the crazy odds, (the main character always has something tragic in their story). But as the tale unfolds, you learn most characters have pain. The stories are generally along these lines: No family, a loved one has died, they are ostracized in fear, they never felt loved, they’ve failed to live up to expectations, they’ve become cynical and jaded, they are rejected, want revenge for the hurt, they have no talent and just aren’t quite good enough.  

They are trying to find somewhere they fit in, to be accepted, and that’s the other half of the show. Someone reaching out to them, making them feel valued. Whether it’s a bad guy who twists that affection and warps the person (usually as a child) or the hero reaching out and “rescuing” people from the darkness and solitude.

In essence, anime depicts living in community with people who care about you despite your quirks, (and some of characters have some really, really annoying, borderline disturbing quirks), who you might fight with, but when push comes to shove they’ve got your back, who challenge you to excellence and encourage you to go beyond your breaking point to get stronger.  

It’s a reminder of people’s stories may not be what you think. Everyone has baggage they carry with them, some is just darker than others. People crave community; everyone wants to be accepted. In short, it’s a picture of “the Church”. 

Don't believe me, I can't blame you. But I can challenge you, watch a few episodes and see. You might be surprised at what you discover. 

Oh and for the record, if you do try it and don't like it it's ok, really. In this I will support you fully.