lazy bitches

does no one post any comments on my blog because they are too lengthy and you get bored reading them, or does no one post anything because i never post anything on anyone else's blog?
its the question of the hour.
if i don't get any responses to this, i'll assume that the apparent laziness i observe is actually backlash from my negligence, and will therefore begin being a supportive blogger.

i'm an idealist

well, i just took the kiersey personality test thing that suzanne suggested. some of the questions were tough because i needed to really think about what the question was trying to ask and then try to figure out how i should answer. this is always my problem with personality tests, i tend to overanalyze them to the point where i'm not exactly sure if i'm answering honestly. so, as i'm finishing up the test, wondering if it will yield any type of realistic assessment of my personality, i think that maybe i have answered the questions well.
when my scores were calculated i came up as "an idealist." i guess i answered the questions truthfully because the thing sums me up pretty well i think. and if it doesn't sum me up well, it at least sums up what i hope to accomplish, but basically it nailed me down pretty well. saying how i'm struggling with self identity and personal growth so that i can become my best possible self. sometimes it doesn't really seem like i'm motivated by that particular goal, but somewhere inside, i'm still trying to figure it out. anyway, here's a couple paragraphs about me that someone else wrote based on a bunch of obscure questions. when things like this can be this seemingly accurate, i'm really impressed with the field of psychology, and it kinda makes me wish that this sort of stuff still existed. i guess that's why i want to be a philosopher, so i can just try to figure this stuff out without the pressure to perform all those tests for empirical evidence and stuff. anyway...hineni, the idealist.

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Idealists, as a temperament, are passionately concerned with personal growth and development. Idealists strive to discover who they are and how they can become their best possible self -- always this quest for self-knowledge and self-improvement drives their imagination. And they want to help others make the journey. Idealists are naturally drawn to working with people, and whether in education or counseling, in social services or personnel work, in journalism or the ministry, they are gifted at helping others find their way in life, often inspiring them to grow as individuals and to fulfill their potentials.

Idealists are sure that friendly cooperation is the best way for people to achieve their goals. Conflict and confrontation upset them because they seem to put up angry barriers between people. Idealists dream of creating harmonious, even caring personal relations, and they have a unique talent for helping people get along with each other and work together for the good of all. Such interpersonal harmony might be a romantic ideal, but then Idealists are incurable romantics who prefer to focus on what might be, rather than what is. The real, practical world is only a starting place for Idealists; they believe that life is filled with possibilities waiting to be realized, rich with meanings calling out to be understood. This idea of a mystical or spiritual dimension to life, the "not visible" or the "not yet" that can only be known through intuition or by a leap of faith, is far more important to Idealists than the world of material things.

Highly ethical in their actions, Idealists hold themselves to a strict standard of personal integrity. They must be true to themselves and to others, and they can be quite hard on themselves when they are dishonest, or when they are false or insincere. More often, however, Idealists are the very soul of kindness. Particularly in their personal relationships, Idealists are without question filled with love and good will. They believe in giving of themselves to help others; they cherish a few warm, sensitive friendships; they strive for a special rapport with their children; and in marriage they wish to find a "soulmate," someone with whom they can bond emotionally and spiritually, sharing their deepest feelings and their complex inner worlds.

Idealists are rare, making up between 20 and 25 percent of the population. But their ability to inspire people with their enthusiasm and their idealism has given them influence far beyond their numbers.

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not quite as rare as 2 percent, but i'm still special, as i'm sure any of you would attest to.

what an emotional day

i'd like to start off this post by aknowledging the fact that i basically just spew anger on this page whenever i get depressed. after i do that, i rarely come back to consider blogging again with newfound insight, and therefore neglect to respond to people's comments, namely bevin regarding my last post. for this, i truly apologize, as the best intentions are usually carried in responses to such posts, and such courtesies should not go unrecognized.
the problem is, i struggle with writing sometimes, mostly because i can't really handle making my thoughts tangible like this. i know its important because if i don't do it, i don't really concentrate on what i'm thinking, and then i just end up coasting through life without a care in the world. while this is an effective coping mechanism, i realize that its faulty and i hope to overcome it soon.
anyway, i've been really emotional lately. whether its a response to recent discussions with suzanne or some sort of looming depression that i'm going to have to deal with soon, i've decided to try to deal with it now, while its happening, rather than later, when i have a breakdown. breakdowns are bad, introspection is good.
back to me being emotional...and incapable of carrying a train of thought. anyway. i got into rochester yesterday morning, and since i caught the red-eye out of san diego, i was traveling all night and therefore quite exhausted upon my arrival. i came home, threw my things to the floor, and collapsed on the couch. after a brief conversation with my dearest, i proceeded to waste the rest of the afternoon watching rubbish on tv. hbo had a fascinating documentary on head trauma, and the teenage victims of such trauma as a result of underage drinking. i don't know what it is about hbo, but i found myself moved to tears as a result of this program (last time i remember this happening i was watching harry potter on hbo...go ahead and laugh, but when he's looking at that mirror, wishing that his parents were actually by his side instead of just in the mirror, its damn depressing). anyway, the only reason i mention this is because i am very rarely moved to tears. its like a long time ago i turned off my empathy, and it only chooses to come out at the strangest of moments (example, harry potter).
well, today my brother graduated from syracuse university, and i found myself again moved to tears, and not just once because i was proud of him (which incidentally, i really am. valedictorian of his class, university scholar, and elected representative of the university scholars to give the only student speech during the convocation of the entire graduating class of syracuse university 2005. do you know how many fucking schools are in this university...35 million), but actually crying several times after the initial pride. i didn't know what the hell was going on. i didn't even get this emotional at my graduation. well, after the fourth or fifth time that i had to wipe my eyes, i decided that my journal would be a good distraction, so i started writing to try and understand what was going on inside of me. my brother gave his speech, which was truly impressive, not just because he's an engineering student, yet surprisingly articulate and poignant, but also because it wasn't just a speech that's like, "syracuse rocks, we all had good times here and now we're gonna go rock the world." my brother actually considered a lot of weighty global issues, and furthermore successfully recognized that there was a room full of budding potential without getting cheesy.
it didn't hit me at first, it wasn't until much later in jane goodall's speech (that's right, their convocation speaker was jane "25 years in the jungle with chimps" goodall) that i realized what was really getting to me. a convocation is a celebration off a big old room full of potential. we celebrate this potential because there are so many horrible problems in the world, and we're hoping that maybe one out of the 3,500 people in the room will make a magnificent, positive contribution to society. this is beautiful to me. it almost makes me want to cry right now. one person, who cares enough, and tries hard enough, might actually make a difference one day, and really anyone can do it, we just need to figure out how. maybe the fact that i think this concept is so beautiful should further elucidate the love i have for a certain leftist, anarchist activist that i like to call my own. i think this is so beautiful to me because i'm just so convinced sometimes that it doesn't matter what i do with my life. today i realized that it really does matter, and that i really do want to make a difference. much like my dear suzanne, i can feel the pain that surrounds me, and now, all of a sudden, i want more than anything to be able to do something to make it better.
my mind is just swelling right now with an array of unintelligible and depressing thoughts, and thus the problem i always seem to run into. the more i write, the more i think, the more i want to cry because i feel helpless.
this is too longwinded right now, but if anyone is interested, i have further stories regarding today that involve FDR and a sad little imprisoned chimpanzee that almost drowned. it all ties together, i just couldn't fit it all here right now.
whew...it feels good to get all that out.