In Which I Make it Really Hard to Come Up With Titles for My Entries Due to Their Random Contents

2 degrees off

You did more than a 180,
turned further from me
than opposite can imply,
and now suddenly
we joke and such
like 360 happened
and it’s okay again.

But really it’s a 358
or so, since there’s a gap
I’m not sure we can close.
2 degrees of difference
between the way we were
and now, slightly askew
2 pointer fingers trying to meet
with one eye closed
and depth perception a bit off.

Poem:
I'm constantly fascinated with other people's ability to put things behind them. I am not that sort of person. So when people pretend that things are okay when I know they're not, I try to play along, but always feel what I hope this poem conveys. And the worst part is, I'm pretty sure everyone feels this way during these awkward situations where we all pretend things are okay, but nobody can break the facade. Nobody wants to, I guess. So we just keep going, a bit off, until we forget. Except I rarely forget.

Observation:
In the class that I dropped (Philosophy of Technology), my professor said that we students were part of the computer generation. He said he had experienced the boom of computer use, but that we were the ones raised on it. I found myself questioning this. It may be true that I am quite dependent on computers. I take them for granted, use them constantly, and understand almost nothing about them. But I look at the people these days who are even more attached to their iPods and phones than I am, and I wonder whether there will ever be an actual computer generation. I remember when the internet was relatively new. I remember using floppy disks that stored almost nothing. Compared to what the kids today are used to, that stuff is ancient. And I'm sure it will be the same when those kids age ten years. My dad remembers when calculators were a ridiculously expensive commodity, and he's obviously lived through everything I have. Sure, if it's understanding how computers work that defines the computer generation, he's not a part of it, but then neither am I. And neither are the kids today. As technology becomes more prolific. complicated, and specialized, the number of people who understand all of any single thing diminishes. Programmers understand software (though not usually all the programming languages involved), developers understand hardware (and hardly ever all hardware), and the common people understand what's still wrong. So if there is a computer generation, it's certainly not mine, or if it is, I'm not part of it.

Exercise:
Your Mom at Five"
Imagine you are your mother. You're five years old. What are you seeing / thinking / doing?

I just finished watching a nature show, and oh my goodness the animals and the trees and the water and the grasses and everything looked so interesting. I've never seen anything like a crocodile here, but I guess they wouldn't like the ice very much. They would look so funny slipping around on their short legs! I guess I'll just take it for granted that huge things like rhinos and elephants exist. I know monkeys exist, because people have told me not to act like one, but they look like they're having so much fun that I don't want to stop. But the best part was the giraffes. I'm even less sure they are real. They're taller than my house, and their colors are like the fieldstone of the walls around me, all spotted with brown. They look so funny when they bend down to drink, front legs splayed open and maybe one good shove could send them tumbling. But I love them, and when people ask me what I want to be when I grow up, I know exactly what to tell them. "I'm going to be a giraffe," I say, and I stretch my neck as far as I can. I dream big.

Me:
And now you all know my mom wanted to be a giraffe when she grew up. True story. At least nobody told her she couldn't be. I actually have no idea how that came about, or at what age, so forgive my inaccuracies. But it's worth a story, I think.
Brownies were made at my apartment recently, which is an event I have mixed opinions on in retrospect. See, I eat an unhealthy amount every time they come out of the oven, which is obviously terrible. But on the other hand, I then feel sick for the rest of the night, which prevents me from eating as much quantity-wise as I might normally. Yes, this is a horrible thing, and bad for me in that it stops me from eating vitamins and results in me eating unhealthy or useless calories, but by the time I went to bed, I actually did weigh a bit less than I normally do at night.
And the last thing I have to say: the deaf girl I wrote about a while ago was gone from my last class. I really hope my blog had nothing to do with it. I'm quite confident it didn't, since according to the statistics it shows me readership peaked about a week ago and has been declining ever since. So I guess this is my desperate plea for you to spread the word if you enjoy reading. Thanks (both for reading, and in advance for any readers you might send my way).