the Me and the I

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the me and the i. Essentially, George Herbert Mead stated that, the 'me' is the socialised aspect of the person. It is what is learned in interaction with others and (more generally) with the environment. This includes both knowledge about that environment and society, but also about who he or she is: his or her 'sense of self'. This is because the person learns to see who he or she is (man or woman, old or young, etc.) by observing the responses of others to himself/herself or his/her actions. If others respond to the person as (for instance) a woman, the person develops a sense of herself indeed as a woman.

The 'I' is the active aspect of the person. This acts creatively, though within the context of the 'me'. (Mead notes that it is only after we act or speak that we know what we were going to do or say.) People, he argues, are not automations. They do not blindly follow rules. They construct a response on the basis of what they have learned, the 'me'.

Taken together, the 'I' and the 'me' form the person or the 'self' in Mead's social philosophy.

I find this incredibly interesting. Right now, I am simply applying it to myself, but I think that once I've got the concept figured out applying it to everyone else would provide intersesting things to think about.

I am going to try more drawing, more art making, more creating.

Fifteen minutes and everything will be switched from my old laptop to the new laptop and life will be back to normal.

Happy Holidays.

Kar is so sick.

So the only news that I have is that, upon arriving in my fair prarie city is that I have been attacked by the flu. I spent the entire day yesterday throwing up every half an hour. It got to the point that I was simply drinking water because if I didn't there was nothing to throw up when my silly body decided that it needed too. It was the most pitiful state I've ever been in.
My poor mother wasn't very good yesterday either, like most people, the sight of another throwing up causes her to throw up, so yeah, we were a pitiful pair.

In other news, being in the west again is a culture shock I wasn't prepared for. It feels like my house is simply a building, which isn't far from what it felt as a child, but never the less, I was expecting something more homey. I'm trying to not be so Garden State about it all, but really, I just want to go home to Halifax.

My father is a bit unbearable. I just can't deal with him unless I have all my resources in tact. Today, while I was sprawled on the couch in a state of semi consciousness my father wanted to know what I learned in my english class. Of course I couldn't come up with any coherent answer, so he started quizing me on what I liked so much about Halifax. That is something that I just can't answwer. I just love it there. I love who I am there, what I do there, who I am with there.

On that note, it is a bit painful how much I miss my girlfriend. She is amazing and lovely and I don't know what I was thinking being away from her for so long.

I am going to go watch some more tv now.

Kar is crazy.

Oh man. I am at the Halifax airport. It is five thirty in the morning. I have yet to sleep since I woke up on Sunday. Life doesn't really feel life like, but more like a never ending sitcom, with cast members who never get to rest. Hours melt into day, days melt into hours. People come and go, interact in both the meaningful and meaningless ways. Suddently you wake up and the leading lady is graduating from university, getting a real job and a grown-up life where it will no longer be acceptable to stay up all night waiting to board a plane in a abandoned nurses residence after everony has left.

Good lord.

I do believe that in the near future I should probably:

Pack lighter bags,

Be kinder to my body,

Get more regular sleep,

Eat.

If I do these things I may feel more human, less dizzy and disconnected, less empty physically and less letargic.

I hope.

Goodnight world, for I believe I will sleep on the plane, and awake in a different universe.

The weather is unseasonably warm.

this is why kar sometimes goes crazy.

last week was spent pulling my hair out over my final web page assignment. You can view it here. That is like... 60+ hours of work. No kidding. I spent about 40+ hours trying to get a drop down navigation bar to work, and of course that didn't work at all. So I ended up going to see my prof about it and he solved all my problems, and told me to give up on the drop down bar because hardly anyone can get those to work. Yay. Also, he said he'd grade me kindly for trying what I was trying to do, and for getting as far as I did.

In any case. Go look, it's rad.

oh you won't find me.

I am having a fabulous much needed relaxing break from the hustle and bustle of Halifax life. Early saturday morning, in what felt like a dream-like state I crawled onto a whale like smt bus and was lulled to sleep by the end of Barrinton St. Destination: Fredricton. I awoke in Moncton to be hustled off one bus onto another, and was rocked to sleep once again. Waking in the midst of the Gagetown training area I thougt of Nicola and how I mean to send her family a note. I don't know what kind of note, because how do I, a 19 year old, write a letter to one of the most inspirational families I've ever had the privlidge of knowing. How do I say I'm sorry for your loss?

In anycase, the weekend has been spent sleeping off the stress of the past few weeks. My body craves a normal sleeping schedual, and if I do nothing else while I am home I will have a normal sleep cycle.

I am terribly excited about going home. Travel requires lists, lists of things to do before the travel, things to take, things to leave, things to gather while traveling, things to do, places to go. It's fun to think of going home as a vacation. It's comforting to know that I won't be stuck there, that I can come back to this new home that has welcomed me with open arms, to this girl who loves me when I forget to love myself, and who I love with equal passion and admiration.

I have found some new friends. The social group I always longed for in my isolation. These girls are all very different, but each is accepting of me, and I of them. I have adopted their kitten, I have been welcomed into their home. I have been worked into their schemes and when they say "we" or "our" I am included in that. It's a wonderful feeling, and happened so easily, I sometimes wonder what I was missing in Calgary not having this security.

I have been studying like mad. Well, my idea of studying like mad. I wish sometimes, that I had the powers to study to the point of knowing everything. Some kids have the planning, the time, the desire, and I simply do not. I will be happy with any passing grade in this class. In fact, anything above a pass is a bonus. I've given up on being perfect, being amazing. I would rather have a life.

Yesterday Nicole and I set up her new chirstmas tree. New Tradition #1. I think every year I will plan to arrive on her doorstep before I head home for Christmas and we can listen to music and eat junk food and decorate her tree, which, being decorated by the two of us looks like a magazine tree. It looks nothing like my tree at home, haphazardly decorated with everything we've collected over the years, matching or not. Red white and blue garland, Disney ornamnents and ten year old candy canes. I'm not sure which is better. I try for the magazine tree every year, being the only one interested in tree decoration. Christmas is usualy a dramatic event around my house. There is shouting, moping, sickness, crying, sobbing, yelling, throwing, temper tantrums and lots and lots of food. This year there will be four extra guests underfoot and I am excited beyond belief. I will be evicted from my bed, most likely, and our small house will be full of stories, and laughter to keep the tears and sadness at bay.

I anticipate many long phone calls to parts in the east, and tears may be shed over the phone, lost grandparents, aunts, uncles and now girlfriends who I am not spending the holiday with will be wrapped up in my distracted thoughts the whole Christmas season.

On a different note. I had a dream I had blonde hair again. I liked it. I am thinking of going back to blonde, but really, I'm only thinking.

I'm off to study some Sociology and watch the end of 21 Grams. That is one movie that if you don't have everyone you love in the room with you while watching it you really start to freak out. I need to see the ending though.

Love.
Kar.

[Music: Laura Peek - Starlight Ball]

Okay, so, there's this band, called The Stolen Minks, and this other band, called Sharp Like Knives, and the girl in the photo Steph, and the boy in the photo Paul, are in these bands, respectively. Now, Sam, the apartment cat of 2010, and fuzzy companion of Miss Erin, loves Steph, and doens't much like Paul, [Steph and Paul are a bit of an item on the HFX music scene.] We think Sam is jealous of Paul. In anycase, to get to the point. By means that shall not be mentioned the residents and adoptees of 2010 came into posession of the passport photos of paul and step and thought it would be hilarious to give to Sammy. Chaos ensues.

After all that mauling of Steph and Paul Sammy needed a break.

The Kitten!

Adorable. Because not only am I the type of person who puts photos of their cat on their blog, I am also the person who puts other people's cats on my blog.

mission

It is one thirty am. I have been awake less than 12 hours.

This evening, [today actually, but it didn't really start until this evening] was dedicated to completing my webdesign assignment three and thus completeing my last class of the semester. Now I figured it wouldn't take very long, most of the hard work is already done, or so I thought. But after reviewing the requirements it turns out that I need three "self taught" elements in my website. So being me, I figured I'd just add some javascript dropdown navigation bars. Easy right? no. Not so much. I started this at 8 this evening and I have just completed an operational navigation bar, and it's only truly operational in Firefox and completely useless in IE. Igads. What is the world coming to?

So anyway. I have consumed two cups of Stanfest coffee, four packages of chewy fruit snacks, two packs of M&M's and a bag of Garden Salsa Sun Chips. I have listened to two Aquarium Drunkard Podcasts and sent two e-mail during "sanity breaks."

This is going to be a long night. I feel a sore throat coming on.

slow shutters -- quick beating hearts.

This is my favorite picture that I've taken in quite a long time.

Taken by Miss. Shannon

Lighting

Miss Shannon.

I have a fascination with the lighting in this place.

The Shoeshop.

Owen at St. Matthew's

Ms. Dobbin at the Fabulous Economy Shoeshop.

*random guitar riff*

I woke up in the early afternoon to the sound of silence. I was thinking, oh glorious! wonderful! life! It's truly amazing this place I've found here.

I feel like wandering to the grocery store and stocking up on unhealthy snack food. Pop tarts, granola bars, chips, ice cream bars. Who knows if I'll actually do it. Last night I made noodles in my coffee pot. Who knew the universality of such an inauspicious appliance?

[Music: CKUA.ca]

pull yourself closer to this radio.

Also, of slightly more, possible, interest to you dear reader. Today was my last day of my first semester of university. Landmark I think. I remember hours spend pouring out my thoughts of this proposed life I'd have, university, dorm, friends, communal living, learning great and marvellous things. I must say, it's incredibly different than I imagined, and yet, at the same time, I am trilled with this life I have.

Today I went to school, handed in two papers, wrote one test and one mid-term exam, watched a Nazi propaganda film and sung emily Dickinson poems to the tune of The Yellow Rose of Texas. I don't believe I've ever really listened to that song, but I know it simply from singing Emily Dickinson songs along to it.

Tomorrow, is spent web designing. It will also be spent dining with fabulous new lady friends, taking in Sarah Slean, [hopefully there will be photos] and getting up to some other mischeif. Depending on how well the website works out, I may lounge in the children's section of the library with a pile of old memories by my side, or engage in some chirstmas shopping.

Just thought I'd update you. In a coupld of weeks I fly home. I'm both nervous, excited and dreading it. I am afriad that everything will be different and I won't know how to cope with that. I am excited to see my bestest of best friends and get up to absolutely no good with her. I am tingling with the anticipation of cuddlying my Boo, and I am dreading the frost biting winter cold. However, it is comfroting to know that there is a girl waiting patiently with her love and her open arms upon my return, that I have a home here now, that it's okay if Calgary no longer fills that role.

If you would like to have coffee, tea, alcohol, dancing, talking, walking or skaiting with me while I'm home send me some sort of message.

Love, Kar.

These currents pull us cross the border steady your boats, arms to shoulder, till tides are pulled hold our grounds making this cold harbor now home.

With each passing day I find myself fonder and fonder of this girl who I find so frequently in my bed. With an equal frequency I find myself in hers. Wrapped up in eachothers comfortable yet akward limbs. I am elated when she is near, life is soft and fuzzy, her words fill my mind when she is away from me. I remember that distant, miserable girl I have been, and I lock her away. She is not part of this, not part of now.

The little bit of me that was killed so many years ago, first with depression, next with drugs has been revived. Her kisses breathe life back into pieces of me that had long ago forgotten the warmth of the world. I was terrified, too scared to explore, afraid I'd find myself [to quote miss erin:] dead inside.

The releif I find with each emotion that I feel, each reaction I have to her touch, laughs in the face of these drugs trying to kill that which makes me human, the part that makes me animal, the part that makes me alive.

Life is too good for words some days. Some days I am so happy that I can sleep the day away with a contented sigh and be alright with such a response.

[Music: Sarah Slean - Me & Jerome]